– I see you already know that the new king of humans makes friends in such a strange way. – The demon king rose from his throne and picked up the servant's head and began to twirl it in his hands, as if it were not disgusting and creepy, but an ordinary cannonball.

– Strange? He's out of his mind! – Varma exclaimed: her husband seemed to have just added more wood to the fire raging within her, and the demoness could barely restrain herself from wanting to kill one of the servants.

– It's ironic: I was sent the news of my brother's murder, and you – the head of a diplomat. – It was as if Lamar hadn't heard his wife's words. – This Derek Merkswerd is not a cowardly man. – Shrugging his shoulders, the supreme demon deliberately released the head from his hands, kicked it with the toe of his tall red boot, and laughed loudly.

The head bounced into the wall and fell deafeningly onto the soft red carpet.

– I don't see what's so funny! – Varma growled, but her face immediately contorted: "Daryal is dead? But how? – She frowned, but then said confidently: – It can't be. He's a supreme demon, and these people couldn't, wouldn't dare…

– They could and they did. – The grin fell from the king's face, and he collapsed on his throne like a sack full of bones. That was exactly how Lamar felt.

– But that's impossible… – Varma was still unable, unwilling to accept this terrible news.

– Perhaps," the king interrupted her in a grim tone.

– But what about magic? – The queen asked quietly.

– There was no magic. He did not use it – Lamar's voice was dark and cold.

– No… No! – Only now did the queen realize the meaning of her husband's words.

– Yes!" came the queen's harsh reply.

– We must…" the queen began, but her husband immediately stopped her attempt to interfere.

– The war will begin soon. Go back to your chambers and don't you dare disturb me," the supreme demon ordered in a grim tone.

With a huff of anger, the offended Varma picked up the hem of her bright red dress and left.

An hour later, the demon king convened a council and issued an order declaring war. He was firmly convinced that humans, a weak race, would not be able to withstand the might of the Dusk Army, but he had no idea what trump cards humans were hiding and how it would turn out for Flammehav. And most importantly, what the Rossi dynasty would have to sacrifice to preserve the lands, and how in an instant the greatest race of all-powerful demons would turn to dust under the feet of the human king Derek Merkswerd.

The war between Flammehav and Kaldwind broke out three days after Varma, the demon queen, received the bloody severed head of the ambassador. This war was merciless, brutal: blood poured down in rivers, cities were wiped to dust, the bodies of the slain covered more and more devastated lands. But all this horror did not touch the kingdom of men – it was burning and turning into ruins proud and powerful Flammehav. Demons, who started this war and previously had no doubt in their success, suffered defeat after defeat, and this led them to terror, but excessive pride and hatred of people forced the king of demons Lamar to continue the desperate war, which cost hundreds of thousands of lives of his subjects.

On the first night that the demons attacked what they thought was the defenseless border town of Kaldwind Valdal, their attack was easily repulsed by an experienced heavily armed garrison. The very next day many strong reinforcements of horsemen, archers and infantry men arrived in the town, and from that day the fall of Flammehav began. In three and a half months Derek Merkswerd's army had invaded the lands of the enemy, destroyed most of the demons' defenses, left behind the ruins of many cities and the corpses of their enemies, and was now conquering the still vacant remnants of the Fire Kingdom's lands, sparing neither women nor children, taking no prisoners, and plundering houses, temples, and palaces. Since the King of Kaldwind hated demons and everything associated with them, his warriors were given permission to pillage, rape, and kill. The humans were physically weaker than their enemies, but, perfectly trained in the art of battle and with strict discipline on the battlefield, they had a great advantage over their overconfident foes and mowed them down like wheat. King Derek did not hide behind the backs of his warriors and participated in every battle, for which he had the unending respect and loyalty of his large grateful army.

King Lamar of Flammehav could not find a place for himself: unlike King Kaldwind, who led his army with his own hands, this demon hid in his palace, together with his wife and daughter, and only helplessly watched as his lands fell, inch by inch, city by city, under the onslaught of his enemies. And what enemies! The people he had always considered weak, pathetic, despised, and whose race he was about to wipe off the face of the earth when he himself had declared war on their king, Derek Merkswerd! Almost without leaving the huge, red-lit hall, sitting on his high, elegant throne, Lamar was desperately trying to think of a way to take back his lands, but all his plans and orders were only making things worse. And the king knew that the reason for the fall of Flammehav was himself: it was he who did not consider it necessary to teach military tactics and training to his army or himself, because the demons had enough of their magic, which terrified their enemies. Before his army was indestructible, but not because his warriors were skillful, no: the reason for this greatness was their magic. Demons could inspire his enemies anything: penetrating their thoughts, they ordered them to kill their friends, and then themselves, telekinesis taking away from the enemy his weapon, whether it was a sword, axe, mace or knife, they directed it at the owner. Demons had never had to fight physically, for the deadly weapons were their magical skills. But now that, for some inexplicable reason, demons could not kill their enemies with magic, could not penetrate their minds and send fireballs at them, the humans and King Lamar himself were faced with a pitiful sight: the Flammehav army was nothing more than an ordinary collection of awkward individuals who had never held a real weapon. Yes, they were stronger than humans and more agile, but that didn't save them from the professionalism of Derek Merkswerd's rage-obsessed army. Demons were unable not only to destroy the enemy, but also to defend themselves and their homeland from him. These proud creatures, previously unknown to defeat, fell at the hands of mortal men like flies at the hand of a giant. The remnants of Flammehav's army and population, streaming into the capital city of Roevann in search of refuge, were gripped by despair and the sheer terror of being exterminated, which was indeed the goal of their enemy. They pleaded with King Lamar to offer peace to the people, but he stubbornly stood his ground, unwilling to humiliate himself in his own eyes. After all, who would he be, the proud powerful Lamar Rossi, if he signed a peace treaty with the enemy? It will not happen! There is still hope! His army will never give up the great capital of Roevann to the wretched mortals! And, filled with refugees who had lost everything, wounded men screaming in pain, and children screaming in terror, Røvann prepared for battle.

– Father!" young Sylvia, Lamar's daughter, burst into the throne room in a whirlwind. Her beautiful red eyes burned with indignation. – This has gone too far! The men have surrounded Ruwann! They stand beneath our walls, ready to wipe us off the face of the earth!

– I know that," he replied tiredly, lifting his head and looking at his daughter. – But do not lose hope: soon we will find out what prevents us from using magic, and we will drive these mortals away from Røvann, then we will regain our lands, and then we will rush into Kaldwind like a bloody tornado. The people will pay for every life taken from my subjects.