Demons burst out of the sands beneath the warlord and bite into his mount, tearing chunks of flesh out of its belly. It collapses with him, and he is likewise swarmed. No sound comes from him as the demons take a leg, an arm, a piece of his face, feasting on his bowels. Ilapara looks away just as the woman outside wails like she’s tearing herself apart, the storm of ash and cinders thickening to almost blanket the barrier again. Who knows how long the storm rages, but when it finally settles down, neither disciple nor warlord is there. The demons are gone, too, destroyed by whatever spell the
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