Above the ruined cottages and stalls surrounding the town square, the sky burned red.

One would think this was an omen, a sign of something malevolent about to fall. However, it was the opposite. Tonight was a night of celebration.

After all, the infamous Incubus King was about to be executed.

Torches threw wild shadows across stones of muddy walls as a chorus of rage filled the air. Hundreds had gathered, not merely common folk but even kings, barons, warriors and the holy priests of the land.

They weren't here just to get rid of the demonic sovereign who had brought chaos onto their land. They all had their personal reasons.

As unfortunate events would have it, each one of these men had suffered humiliation at the hands of the Incubus King. He didn't hurt them—not physically at least. He didn't steal their land or kill their men, he never even waged a war.

No. He had done something far worse.

He had slept with their wives.

A mere mishap would never have caused such retribution against him. Perhaps if he had spent a single night with each of their wives, these men would have thought of him as a mere gigolo; a man harlot who served royal women.

But that was not what happened. The Incubus King didn't serve these women.

They served him.

He turned them to submissive pets, burning away their loyalty to the kingdom and replacing it with loyalty to him… and his satisfaction—his desire.

He had taken them night after night, twisted the shape of their once delicate sheaths into dens for his demonic manhood.

Even worse, they had loved it. So much so that their husbands could not recognize them. Hence, the kings and lords and warriors—by the gods—even the common folk, they all lost their wives.

And the Incubus King's harem expanded, growing even bigger than a lord's army troop.

Until now.

Now, it was over.

The Incubus King knelt before them, wrists shackled in enchanted chains, his bare chest marred with sigils meant to strip him of his strength. The scent of blood and smoke thickened the air.

"Velkar, the Whoremonger!" a voice roared, thick with fury and deep contempt. King Aldros of Verrenth, his heavy armor gleaming in the firelight, spat toward the ground.

"You defiled our homes! You stole our wives! You turned our queens into your simpering playthings and laughed as we begged for their return!"

A storm of voices followed from men who had gathered to witness the execution. "Filth!" "Monster!" "Castrate him!" "Burn him!" Their roars were fueled by vengeance, by the shame they had swallowed for years.

Velkar found it disgusting. These men had all cowered in silence while he took their wives in front of them, and now they howled for his destruction.

Just like humans to only find courage in vengeance.

Velkar lifted his head, golden eyes gleaming, unfazed. Even bound, even stripped of his charm, he radiated something greater than the men who surrounded him. Power. Confidence. The knowledge that, despite everything, he had won long before they ever held a blade to his throat.

"So many of you," he mused. His voice was so beautiful, so evil that it made birds sing… and die right after.

"All so eager to stand together. How touching. Where was this unity when I took your women to my bed?" He grinned, teeth bared. "Did they moan for you as they moaned for me? Did they whisper your names, or was it mine on their lips?"

Aldros pierced the tip of his enchanted blade against Velkar's cheek. "Enough! You will speak no more, you vile creature!"

One of the lords held up a hand. "Let him speak. Let the world hear his last words and know him for what he is! A snake writhing even as we cut off its head. A beast who believes himself untouchable, even now."

Velkar chuckled, shaking his head. "I may not be untouchable, Lord Dunkard. But I am... unforgettable."

"Just ask your wives."

He turned his head to the group of women who were held back by chains. These women supposedly were nobles, yet their demeanor, it was nothing more than obsessive submission.

They were crying, stripping their clothes, cupping their large breasts as they begged for Velkar to be released. They even swore to take revenge on their own husbands if they dared to kill their beloved 'master.'

Lord Dunkard burned with rage. "You demon scum! We should strip him! Take away his wretched beauty. Let him die as nothing."

A priest in silver robes approached, cradling a vial with liquid silver in its content. "The Nectar of Erasure," he intoned. "A single drop, and his cursed charm will be undone. His power, his allure, will wither, leaving him nothing but the rotting thing he truly is."

Velkar looked at the vial and smirked. "I remember claiming your wife, priest. The nun. I will tell you now, there was nothing holy about the way she rode my enormous shaft."

The Priest's eyes flashed red. "You bastard!"

"Go ahead now," Velkar said without care. "Even without my charm, I'll still have had them. Nothing you do now can erase that."

The priest's fingers trembled as he poured the vial's contents over Velkar's skin. The moment the liquid touched him, pain lanced through his body.

He gritted his teeth, muscles clenching in pain. That silver liquid was not like any magic he had ever felt. It was actually hurting him, making this body weak and exposed to harm.

A wave of satisfaction rippled through the gathered men as his body spasmed, as his breath turned ragged.

"Does it hurt, devil?" King Aldros sneered, stepping closer.

Velkar forced a grin through clenched jaws. "Funny. I remember asking your wife the very same thing when I took her anal virginity."

"You foul mouthed bastard!" Aldros struck him so hard his head snapped to the side, blood trailing from his lip. The crowd roared their approval, their lust for vengeance reaching its peak.

Seeing the blood in his lip, Velkar realized that the silver liquid had worked. And now he knew for certain he was going to die. His body had been weakened.

This death was his fault. He had been trapped by the same thing he conquered: women. In the end, he let his lust control him rather than the opposite.

It was a lesson learnt.

"Enough!" Another lord barked. "This farce has lasted long enough. Let him die."

The headsman, a brute clad in blackened iron, stepped forward, gripping his axe. Velkar was hauled to his feet, but he did not struggle. There was no need.

His neck was placed on the execution block where the blood of past sinners gleamed under the moonlight.

"Will you divorce or execute your wives?" he asked the noblemen with an evil smile. "How are you going to find any other? In the back of your minds, great kings and lords, you will always wonder if the new woman you share a bed with had ever shared one with me!"

The noblemen all had a ghastly look on their faces. This demon scum really knew how to get into their minds.

Aldros leaned in. "We all feared you once, demon king. But why fear a lust-driven man? A man with no motives but pure depravity? Hmm? You lived by your cock, demon king, and now... your cock has been the end of you."

Velkar chuckled, deep and dark. "I'm afraid I have to agree with you on that one, your Majesty."

Slink!

The axe fell.

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