– Father, do you hear yourself? – Sylvia said quietly. She walked over to her father, knelt down in front of them, and took his palm in hers. In her nineteen years she knew that pride was the worst counselor. – I beg… I beg you: go to the king of men and ask for peace.....

– Never! Sylvia, my daughter… You know they are not worthy of it.

– Unworthy or not… It doesn't matter!" Sylvia stroked his hand and smiled bitterly: "Now is not the time to hold on to our pride and former greatness. Soon enough, the humans will attack, and we won't be able to repel them and defend ourselves. You know that.

Lamar turned his face away from her and said nothing.

– Father? – The girl called softly again.

– There is nothing we can do now," he said in a confident tone. – Let them attack. Soon their defense against our magic will fall, and we will destroy them. We will wipe out every human being, down to the last infant, and turn their land into a desert.

Sylvia knew her proud father's temperament, and she foresaw that he would respond to her request for peace with the enemy in this way. But she did not lose hope, because she knew: if he did not compromise his pride, the race of demons will be exterminated and will be just a story, just a terrible tale that people will scare their naughty children.

– You've been saying that since the war began, but we've never found out what secret the humans are keeping and how they stole magic from us," she said softly.

– Go to your chambers," Lamar ordered her instead of answering: his daughter's words, so true, were burning his mind with hot coals.

– Father, go to the king of men. Go before they attack…" the girl began, but her father released his palm from her hand, rose abruptly from his throne, and hurried out of the hall.

Lamar did not want to listen to his daughter. He was sure that his spies would bring him happy news, and he had no intention of going to the world. His wife, who was as proud as she was arrogant, supported him and said she was sickened by the thought of even nagging pathetic people for peace. And only their daughter realized that as soon as the human army surrounding the walls of Røvann received reinforcements, (for the capital of Flammehav was difficult to take, even though it could not defend itself with magic) a battle would begin that would be the last for the once prosperous and majestic demon kingdom. But Sylvia was only a young girl, and while her father had always listened to her opinion in matters of politics and running the kingdom, this time he would not consider anyone's opinion, not even that of his favorite daughter. And the Flammehav heiress knew that her father's stubbornness would lead them all to their inevitable doom, but she could not change his decision.

***

– Reinforcements have arrived, Your Majesty," Bergil announced loudly as he entered the king's large black tent, where he and his warlords were discussing a plan to capture Røvann.

There was merriment in the human camp: the warriors knew that after they had destroyed Røvann, slit the throats of everyone they could get their hands on, hung the bodies of the Rossi family – the lords of Flammehav – and taken with them all the vast wealth of the royal palace without leaving even a copper coin, they would cleanse Vakkerland of demons, those vile Satanic spawn. They will do all races a great favor and be glorified in songs and ballads for all ages. Besides, back home in their native Kaldwind, their wives and children are waiting patiently for them.

– How many? – Derek tossed to Bergil, standing surrounded by the men of war.

He had no map of Flammehav, nor did any of the other kings of Vakkerland, for none of them had been able to cross the borders of the demon kingdom that terrified their enemies until now. Derek Merkswerd – King of Men was the first and last to reach the walls of his capital.

– Thirty thousand, my king! – shining like a polished coin, Bergil replied.

– Excellent. Just think: perhaps tomorrow we will free the world from demons! – The king laughed, and his commanders shouted with one voice: "Hail Derek, King of Kaldwind!".

– Shall we attack tomorrow, then? – He commanded a large force of spearmen and was terribly proud of his friend's confidence in him.

– Yes, tomorrow," confirmed Derek.

– Must it be at dawn? – One of the warlords asked.

– No, noon. The warriors need to sleep and rest. The demons don't stand a chance anyway. They don't even have a single cannon. Fools never thought they'd have to defend their cities from their enemies," Derek smiled mockingly.

– Lead us, our king! – Bergil exclaimed. – We will follow you to both Hell and Heaven!

– To get there we all have to die first, and I'm not going to die yet! – chuckled Derek. – Andrada, my treasure, deserves the highest honors, and when I return to Sturfjell, I will reward her properly!

– But don't take her to your bed: I don't think she'll like it, for everyone knows she's proud as a wolf! – Bergil laughed loudly.

The whole kingdom knew of the king's love affairs, and he did not hide them.

– Her surname is a fox," the king grinned.

– A fox, then! Such a fluffy, affectionate fox! – Bergil laughed again, but he was the only one laughing: the other warlords stared at the ground, for they dared not mock His Majesty. Only Bergil, Derek's best friend, could afford such liberty.

– My friend, I think it's time for you to get married! – Derek smiled, squinting his eyes. – How do you like our Hedda?

– No way! I'll kill you! I like being a lonely bear! – Bergil grumbled unhappily and hurried to steer the conversation in another direction: "I thought maybe we could give our warriors some wine. They deserve it!

– I want sober warriors," Derek cut him off. – The wine will come after we've won, so tell them that.

– As you say, Your Majesty. – Bergil bowed to the king and left the tent.

– You too are free to go," Derek ordered the commanders, and they left him alone.

"I'll bring my daughters a nice crown each," he decided, sitting down on a roughly chipped wooden chair with a mug of water in his hand. During the war he had always observed a rite of sobriety so that wine and honey would not cloud his judgment. – Lamar has a wife and a daughter, and they must each have a crown worthy of my daughters' heads. I must remember to give orders that Lamar and his family are not to be touched: they will be executed in public, in the main square of Sturfjell, as will their vile relative, the murderer Daryal."

The night passed. The morning came. The warriors, rested and full of vigor, were just waiting for the king's order to storm the hated Røvann. Huge brass cannons were placed in front of the walls of the city, ready to crush the stone with their iron cannonballs and bury thousands of enemies under the rubble of houses and the royal palace. All that remained to be done was to wait for the loud signal of the king's horn, calling for fierce merriment.

At noon the low song of the brass horn blew through the camp of the men who were already standing in squads: the archers, with their large bows and quivers full of arrows, stood before the numerous crossbowmen, whose arrows could fly much farther than those of the archers. Each warrior knew that this would be the last battle, and anticipated celebrating the victory with good wine from the cellars of the demon king's palace.

The cannons were the first to fire: their heavy cannonballs collided with the high walls of the city and broke them, but the men had to spend several hours and use almost the entire stock of cannonballs before gaps were formed in the mighty thick walls of Ryowan.

– Attack! – The king shouted loudly, and the glittering, shimmering army of heavy armor moved against the high walls of the city doomed to destruction.