Page 2 of The Demon God's Desire
I can see right through his weaselly eyes. He doesn’t give a damn about it one way or another. He’s just trying to stir shit up and gain favor with some of the other men.
“Shut up, idiot,” I tell him, shutting it down. “I’m not a sympathizer. Not by a long shot. Humansarebeneath us. But they’re animals. Fucking a human is like sticking your cock into a defenseless dripir. No man that engages in bestiality deserves to wear the miou crest.”
“That’s manure,” Vythor argues back. “You think they’re intelligent enough to be compared to dripir?”
He laughs and many of the other soldiers laugh with him, cheering him on.
“Enough!” I yell. “I won’t tolerate that shit under my watch. So let this be a lesson. If you do it and get caught, I’ll string you up by your dick before I discharge you.”
Frankly, I wish they would give me a reason to beat some sense into some of them. Most of them are half-wits and the lot of them are only slightly more intelligent than the humans they deride.
Not that I give a single damn about humans. I told Vythor I wasn’t a sympathizer and I mean it. I’m not here to save the humans or any other manure such as that.
But I am here to show these half-wits that I’ve earned my rank for a reason. “I can’t do anything about his caste,” I continue. “But I can do something about his position. And I won’t ever tolerate that behavior. Are you a disgusting pervert, Vythor?”
“No, sir,” he says quickly.
“Are any of you perverts? Tell me now so I can boot you out of my sight.”
“No sir!” the rest of my men shout.
“Good!” I stand before them, arms crossed, daring them to challenge my authority. There’s a reason I’m a decorated general. I keep my men in line with an iron fist and a strong will. I know that I’m just like my father before me, who was also highly decorated.
He ruled the home and hearth with an iron fist as well. He made me the man I am today. I intend to make my own legacy and am determined to be even greater than my father.
“But you must agree, sir, that the humans don’t deserve our compassion or pity.”
“I don’t give a damn about humans,” I tell Vythor. “I don’t care if the lot of them fall into the sea and drown. But when you’re in my service, under my control, you’ll do as I say. No questions asked.”
“But sir...”
“Are you questioning my authority, soldier?” I ask, getting into his face. “Are you really going to question my judgment, my command?”
“No sir!” Vythor is quick to say, jumping back. “I just thought...”
“You just thought, what, soldier?” I ask, crowding him out. “You just thought what?”
“Does it really matter if the soldiers do whatever they want to the humans? You said yourself that they’re just animals.”
“Even animals deserve to be left alone,” I tell him. “They work for their masters and they go about their lives like the taura of the field. Would you whip a taura for not sucking your cock?”
“No sir,” Vythor shakes his head, clearly knowing that he’s losing this argument.
“Good,” I tell him. “Now I’m going to sit back down and enjoy my steak and no one better ruin this experience for me. If it’s cold when I sit back down, I’ll stab the next man who approaches.”
I sit back down and my soldiers all seem to collectively hold their breaths until I take a bite of my meal. It’s thankfully still warm and I start eating again, savoring every bite.
My men go back to rabble-rousing and generally behaving as if they have no moral compass, being rowdy, loud and hitting on every female dark elf that passes through. I turn a blind eye, uncaring what they do as long as it’s consensual.
Just as I’m finishing up my meal, I hear a commotion and I whip my head around. Vythor is standing in the midst of some kind of argument with a few of the other men. Why is it that he’s always in the middle of everything?
I stand up and walk over, trying to see what’s up. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Vythor says, trying to reach for something in another soldier’s hand. I realize that the other soldier is one of the messengers to the king and he’s holding a letter.
“We didn’t want to bother you, General Guilri,” Vythor says quickly.
“Let me see it,” I tell the messenger.