There is value in delayed gratification. Don’t eat a cupcake in front of you if you will get two later; only a child would succumb to temptation. Grey was an adult and obviously went for the option to have two elves later instead of one now.


    The problem was that this elf was quite a temptation. The tasty fragrance of magic teased his nose for an entire day. His stomach rumbled out of frustration. The desert was right at his grasp, begging to be popped and eaten. His core throbbed in anticipation. Only his brain, his reason, prevented him from eating his elf-cake. It was frustrating that you can’t eat the cake and still have it. It was one or the other. So he waited until this other elf would materialise in her full elf slave form.


    The wait was painful, agonising and terribly long, almost unworthy for. Simply put he was on edge.


    Grey turned towards the mages and lunged at the older one, the master. The old man was no fool, he grasped an amulet hidden in his pocket and a force field materialised surrounding him and his apprentice. No casting time was needed, hence no delay. Grey slammed into the barrier with his full force. It held, but the force field won’t be there forever.


    Brave Lionhart didn''t idle like a fool. His mace crashed on Grey’s shoulder shattering a scale protecting it. Grey winced in pain, the scale was part of his body but otherwise, he was alright. Attacking him from behind has been the last mistake Lionheart will ever make.


    Grey turned around, the mages were of no threat to him at the moment. Lionheart’s mace was already in mid swing but Grey was quicker. He caught the mace by the handle, Lionheart’s face twisted at the sight he found impossible, and then a fist flung right to the lion’s face.


    Teeth and bone scattered in the air like shrapnel accommodated by fountain of blood. The head of the lionkin buckled back in an odd angle, the blow was so strong the neck snapped. The Lionheart was no more. This was a very pretentious name for such a weak specimen, Grey has concluded while shaking the crimson bits of his knuckles.


    The force field, of course, was still there. The mages might think they were safe behind it, they were, but they were equally trapped in it; unable to release their spells. Grey stared at the two in contempt, he never liked mages, especially men. Men were unpalatable to his refined tastes. Luckily the apprentice was a female. Despite her disguise, Grey was able to smell her feminine scent. The apprentice unfortunately was no elf, hence not as delicious. But magic-infused blood was a rare delicacy. This will do well as an appetiser before the elf dessert.


    The mages returned the stare in equal measure. The quick show of violence didn’t intimidate them. Disappointing. And the pair weren’t idling either, they were no fools. The two were preparing powerful spells which required concentration and time. The time they had plenty, and the concentration was no issue; a sign of competence and talent. Maybe Grey had tried to bite off more than he could chew.


    Or maybe not. The force field flickered and a spear of bright blue shot towards him. A spell capable of piercing a castle wall, too quick to be dodged. And then it hit a hastily formed force shield, the hexagonal construct flickered but it held.


    “Impossible!” The old mage shouted full of disbelief and outrage.


    A shower of needle-like icicles ambushed Grey from the sides, a form of the guided missile barrage. As a low form of magic, it wasn’t very powerful, but the number of projectiles compensated for it. Most bounced off his scales, however, not all of his body was clad in such protection. The needles found purchase in the belly, sides and between the scales.


    The old mage continued to press on with his spear attack turning it into a beam of energy. Grey must have hurt his pride, otherwise, the mage would not have done so. Such an attack was expensive on mana and wasteful, it would have been easier to form a new spell. Grey grinned at the idea of annoying a stubborn old fool. Fool or not, which knew what he was doing. Grey’s shield will not hold for long and Grey knew it. He would leap at the mage if his body didn''t feel cold and sluggish. The ice needles didn''t do much damage but the debuff they inflicted was a real pain. He was running out of options.


    Grey closed his eyes in concentration, his shield flickered for the last time then it shattered like glass. Just before the beam could bore a hole in his chest he had cast a spell of his own. Grey had sent a spell sailing through the very beam the mage was emitting. The spell was an insidious one, it piggybacked on the magic the old fool was casting to empower itself. As quick as light, it propagated right through the beam like a shock wave.


    The result was spectacular. The old master exploded like a popped balloon, literally. Everything was dyed in fine droplets of crimson. A fog of blood lingered in the air but quickly settled forming pools of blood.


    The icicle barrage had stopped. The apprentice stood there frozen in complete shock, disbelief was painted all over her face.


    Grey didn''t come out unscathed, after all, the remainder of the beam had hit him. His chest was burnt black, but at least, there was no hole through him. He eyed the apprentice hungrily. His spell had cost him all of his already barren mana reserves. It even felt like he went negative. His head was spinning, his body even more sluggish. He took the old master but it might have been at too big of a cost.


    The apprentice was putting her proverbial marbles together. She was on her knees and shaking but despite that she was forming a new spell in her palm. Grey had no strength to make it in time before she will finish it. It didn''t mean he will not try. He roared in the animalistic cry and began his slow torpor-addled walk towards the apprentice.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    “Die, you monster!” She screeched in an inhuman voice.


    A slim blue arrow shot from her outstretched hand and pierced Grey''s shoulder. Right to the shattered scale embedding itself in flesh. The arrow was corporeal so it flickered out of existence, but the wound remained.


    One measly arrow was not enough to stop him.


    Another one hit his chest. “Die, die, die!” she screamed. Another and another, arrow after arrow was shot.


    Will he succumb to a measly apprentice? All of his years of life will be rendered mute to his foolish mistake. Grey fell to his knees feeling exhausted. Negative mana was an unforgiving bitch to take.


    An arrow hit him on his face plate disintegrating into motes of light. His body was fighting back, even if passively. Not all the arrows pierced into his flesh, his scales protected him. Actually, some of the arrows didn''t even hit him. The apprentice was flustered, flinging spells haphazardly. The lack of concentration resulted in a lack of accuracy.


    “Why don’t you die!?” The apprentice stepped a few steps backwards, her flight response overtaking her will to fight.


    After all, the sight was terrifying. Her entire side was slick-wet in still warm blood. The floor, the walls and even the ceiling were coloured red. The smell was rich in iron, it smelt nauseating, it smelt raw. And there was this monster. Refusing to die, coming to her. Ever closer. The monster was on his knees but his gaze… There was ungodly hunger in its eyes. She feared not just for her life but her soul as well.


    “Argh!” Grey roared again trying to hype himself. And finally, he stood up.


    ‘Just a few more steps and I will have her.’ – the monster.


    ‘Just a few more arrows and it will die.’ – the human.


    ‘… perhaps?’ -– the half-elf.


    A ball of fire hit the apprentice right on the head. The mage stumbled to the side, she survived but her hood was on fire. She tried to put the flames down in panic. A slight distraction was all it took for Grey to make the final lunge at the mage.


    He descended onto her like a wild starved beast. In one swift motion ripped the still burning robe exposing her tender and pale flesh. The apprentice was a young slender woman with black raven hair and delicate features. She was a true beauty, but that didn''t matter.


    Her scream was cut short by dagger-sharp teeth ripping her throat out. Grey’s clawed fingers ripped at her immaculate flesh cutting it needlessly. Blood oozed all over. Bite after bite he ripped her flesh. He licked the oozing blood savouring every bit of it. He moved down from the neck to the chest and bit greedily into it. The teeth and claws ravished her body. He ripped her open and went inside savouring every bit of it. And in no time he grasped her heart in between his fingers. It looked tiny in his palm, but he could feel remnants of power still coursing through it. Into his mouth, it went.


    His wounds began to visibly close. The vigour returned to his body. The fog of hunger was removed from his mind, but only slightly. Unfortunately, the mage had spent most of her mana fighting him. Ironically she did end up being only the appetiser, he was not satiated. He needed more!


    He stood up towering above the half-eaten corpse to scan the room. Here it was, the body of the Lionheart. The weakling was no mage of course so utterly and completely unappetising. Grey gave a good whiff gauging the scent. Something was missing. There were scents of women on the weakling, many scents but none were that of an elf. The only elf-like smell he could pick up in this den was that of the half-elf who led him here.


    He turned to look at the deceptive she-devil. He was surprised she has stayed. She should have bailed at the first chance. It made no sense to him, if there was no other elf he will eat her. Was she stupid?


    “You!” He growled.


    The woman looked visibly sick.


    “Are you okay? We might find a healing potion somewhere. There should be some.” Her voice trembled.


    “Lier! There is no slave-elf!” He reached out threateningly.


    “No. Wait! Let me explain.”


    He was angry. Rightfully so. And despite his impulsive nature Grey decided to remain calm even if for a minute. He considered himself a tad bit wiser now. The elf was drained of magic so no use for him at the moment. It was better to wait until she ripens up again.


    “Lie and you die!” He warned her fully expecting another lie.


    The woman regardless of her fear, or maybe because of it, paused to think. It was an uncomfortably long moment of silence.


    “Sorry. Sorry! I have deceived you, but didn''t I save your life? That is worth something, no? And, and I didn''t run away or anything. Look I stood and fought with you.” She pointed at the charred corpse, the lackey of Lionheart.


    Indeed there were more people here than just the Lionheart and two mages. They were insignificant so Grey had forgotten about the little fry in the heat of battle.


    “Yes, but there is no other elf here. Never was. Don’t try to feed me bullshit.”


    “That… I… I am sorry! But I still can be of use to you!”


    Only as a meal…


    “Will you tell me about the other half-elves, where are they?”


    “I’ll come clean. There are no other elves I know of. Well, only two. The university professor and the viceroy''s advisor. That is it!”


    This was a wild-goose chase after all.


    “So what use do I have of you? A she-devil?”


    “Why do you even need elves? Look this den is loaded with treasure. It is ours now and the money is the real power. Use it to get the information on elves or something..”


    So she has no use and deflected the question.


    Noticing the hesitation the elf-deceiver continued. “Look, let’s work together. Now I am sure you are new here. And I know this city, I can introduce you to the people. We can work out something beneficial to both of us.”


    “I don’t trust you, I never did, I never will.” Grey spat on the ground in contempt.


    “Just give me a chance. You got nothing to lose here, only win. And win big!”


    “Maybe you misunderstand.” Grey grabbed the elf by her throat and lifted her up. “I own you now! You are at my mercy here! Do not try to weasel your way into pretending something you are not. You are just a snack to me!”


    He dropped the elf.


    “*Cough… *Cough… I understand, sir. As you wish!”


    What a weasel! Grey frowned, his back tingled from the idea of keeping her alive. In the end, it was worth it, maybe. He fancied himself as a hunter, but perhaps farming was the way. He will ripen the elf, make her juicy and full of magic and then he will enjoy the sweet and succulent fruit of his labour. His mana-starved core already was pulsating in anticipation.


    The object he was devouring with his eyes was giving him the look full of terror. Oh, how Grey enjoyed that look, the fear in her eyes, the scents her body was excreting. Delicious – he wiped a glob of drool dripping down his chin.