Free Devil's Workday (Devil Aster Days Book 1) by Mitchell Olson

Part One: Sword in the Sand
     
    “Commander Aster!” the soldier cried, “we’re too far out! We should go back!” It was no use. Aster couldn’t hear his men anymore. The soldier’s cries were drowned out by the gale sandstorm and Aster’s own shouts of anguish. One by one, the Commander tore through his foes with absolutely no compassion. After all, they were only demons.
    The number one rule in Hell was kill or be killed. At least for the demons that seemed to be the case. Devils were different though. Unlike the savage demons, devils were people. The descendants of Lucifer Satan’s rebellious angels cast down from Heaven to the sunless bowels of Hell, the devils were actually very similar to the angels. Of course, there were a few key differences between the races.
    Commander Aster stood tall, broad-shouldered and swinging his thick broadsword. His many years of learned swordplay tactics no longer in use, he was now relying on what remaining strength he had to mercilessly cut through his foes in a fashion similar to swinging a baseball bat. The sword was damn heavy, too. Weighing in at nearly 100 pounds, it’d be a feat for a human to even lift it, much less use it in combat. And yet, Aster swung it with angry ease.
    Though his body was physically nearing its limit he refused to stop. Not yet. Not after what those God-forsaken demons did. The devils never meant them any harm, and yet the demons would never stop attacking them. Savage creatures, incapable of being reasoned with, they desired only one thing: food. The devils would never see a peaceful day, not while the demons roamed free. After their last invasion, Aster had had enough.
    That was the reason why he led his team far out into the desert. He knew his men shouldn’t be out that far, but as his rage had not yet subsided and the enemies kept coming, he saw no reason to retreat just yet. As he hacked and slashed still more foes, he frantically scoured the desert landscape. There was something out there, something he needed to see. It became his entire reason for being there.
    “Commander! Please!” the unknown soldier shouted again more frantically this time. He was trying his best to fend off several lesser demons, which under usual circumstances wouldn’t pose too much of a threat. However, as they were no longer within the safety of the city walls, they were deep in enemy territory. The demons had vastly superior numbers.
    The soldier plunged his (much smaller) sword into another demon, only to have it get stuck in the monster’s belly. The demon reared back and fell over dead, it’s soul floating freely away into the night. The sword was still trapped in its carcass.
    Luckily, devils have a particularly amazing and efficient natural self-defense. Stripped of their protective Holy Light, the first batch of devils to arrive in Hell had to come up with a new means of survival, and quickly . Taking their mastery of soul power to the next level, they invented the Devil Flame. 
    Some devils were quite skilled at it and could launch devastatingly powerful flame-based attacks. Others, like the soldier currently fighting for his life, were adequate at best. This was also the reason why he was equipped with a sword. He used his flame the best he could, launching small fireballs at the invading demons, but was eventually overwhelmed by his opponents. He held as large a flame as he could muster in his hand, and made one last desperate call to his Commander.
    “Sir! We’re surrounded! They’re not stopping!” he shouted.
    “You and the others return to the city!” Aster called to him, launching a fireball at a demon that’d had the nerve to attempt an escape. This had become his suicide mission, and dragging his men into it was unfair to them. As the whipping sands momentarily died down, Aster could at long last see the landmark he’d been searching for: a sword, stuck blade-first in the sand. The sight nearly brought a tear to his eye. He needed