Chapter six

Chapter six

I cannot… possibly kill you my King, " Kendrick stuttered and took a few steps back. He could not be scared of an overly young King, demon or not. But looking into those blue eyes held an inhumane aura altogether.

" Why not, " Abraham seemed offended. He glared at the body on the sand with a bleeding throat shortly just before taking two steps closer, "You killed your very own blood for your selfish pleasures. I don't suppose this demon here holds any essence to you in exchange for an entire Kingdom."

"But Your Majesty…"

"Just do it and that title is yours," he smirked and took a deep tenor to his voice, creating a frustratingly tempting vibe around him, "Put that knife through my heart and you get to give orders to whomever you please. You'll have all the Royal mistresses doing your every erotic bidding. And of course you cannot possibly refuse the servants and luxury you will undoubtedly receive when you become King. "

Kendrick stopped talking and got lost in his own thoughts. It was obvious he was falling when his breathing doubled.

" Come on, " Abraham pushed on," But mind you, I get to defend myself."

The words didn't seem to batter the confidence of his foe, something that was going to go a long way to cause his death.

Instead, Kendrick raised a knife and parted his feet in a stance of readiness. The King was just a lad, how hard could this be?

Abraham was pleased. Slowly, he undid his robe with the most careful finger work, tossing it unto ground afterwards. But even more carefully, he lifted his crown from his head, placing it on a quilt brought to him.

The rest of his upper fabric, he tore in a single yank, displaying strength that surely set his opponent on the edge.

"Shall we," he offered with arms gestured apart.

Kendrick shrieked and surged forward. This was an entire Kingdom they were talking about. The first stab of his blade came with a perfectly timely reaction from the King who jerked away.

After Abraham winked at him in mockery, the event just went on repeating itself. His opponent came at him with more jabs of his knife, all of which he avoided with a fluid, almost effortless sway of his body.

When it came as a slice at his head, he ducked under the blade and twirled around to stand again. And he  swore he saw a hint of admiration in Kendrick's gawk.

But it didn't make the human stop his attacks.

It seemed this man truly wanted to kill him. Or better, he badly wanted to be King.

He knew he shouldn't be burning his energy away to defend himself from a mere mortal. But he wasn't ready to give him the importance of having to use his powers when he was certain he could handle an army of him with fists alone.

With that thought, Abraham caught the man's hand when it came again. Giving it one painful twist, he hit the opponent's face with his clenched hand.

This had more effect than it normally should have. It sent the man off his feet and a considerable distance away.

The King waited with a smirk, pacing to and fro with his eyes preening on his prey and waiting for him to recover. He stood tall with his perfectly chiseled torso gleaming with sweat.

If he wasn't so insolent and dangerous, he might as well have been a nice catch for the women.

Kendrick forced himself up and touched his nose, wincing at the pain and blood he got from it.

Now, he swore he was going to kill the King, Kingdom or none.

He shrieked again and pounced forward; this time, retrieving a dagger.

Abraham blocked the strike and sent a fist to his stomach, smiling when a pound of blood spilled out through the man's mouth. Next, he pulled him over his shoulder unto the floor below.

The laughter he released to the void was a thunderous, wicked thing that caused murmur streak from the audience who had obviously lost their hearts to fear.

Now that he had begun his torture, something inside him refused to stop until he was finished; and now, he let it control him. Just to relish his abilities more, Abraham bent low and pulled the man up by his collar,  looking into those dreadful eyes of his.

But then he felt a blade push into his skin and through to the other side. When he looked down to realise Kendrick's success in stabbing him with the dagger, he gave a low growl.

Anger slashed through him even more than the spike of physical pain he received. It was anger so significant it reached his eyes.

They were no longer the cold shade of blue they used to be. Rather, a flickery light of scorching flame shone in them. And that was all he needed to render his opponent weak with fear.

The King put his hand around the blade and pulled it out effortlessly, although there was a groan or two.

Then right before the eyes of everyone around him, he healed.

Flesh upon bleeding flesh linked together again and again starting from inside, then through him to the surface of his skin.

Now…if there was any wound there before, no one would have guessed. The healing was perfection.

Back to his source of anger…

Abraham Tonnel raised his gaze to the man's face almost at the same rate with which he raised the man off his feet to the air with the hand on his collar.

Kendrick was sure the last thing he saw was the yellow glow rising from the base of the King's throat.

To breathe fire had never existed to most people outside fairy tales until then. They saw the King open his mouth as the glow intensified and continued to rise up the column of his throat.

When it should have emerged from his mouth, it was fire.

Just like the fairy tale of dragons, the young King breathed scorching flames to his opponent's face, not giving attention even when he heard the noisy and desperate movement from his people as they struggled to leave the pavilion.

Suddenly, he cut off the source of fire, which was…well within him.

And the only effect that action had on him was a slight smoulder at his jaw skin.

Satisfied, Abraham tossed Kendrick's corpse away like a bag of filth. He ignored the hullabaloo movements of escaping people in the background and directed his gaze to the Royal foyer and precisely upon his four brothers, a dirty smirk on his lips as he relished the fear on their faces one by one.

He'd been the last for too long now.

Dominating them was that one part of his rule he was going to enjoy.