The journey stretched on as the moon endlessly blended into the night sky.
The crescent moon hung faintly in the sky, offering meager light that struggled to penetrate the thick canopy of the forest they now treaded through.
Towering trees stood like silent sentinels on either side of the narrow dirt path, their leaves rustling softly in the cool night breeze. Shadows danced across the group as they walked, their voices low but lively, exchanging jokes and banter to stave off the eerie quiet of the forest.
Arielle was animated, feeling the most alive, chatting with Axiom and Vel about random adventures they’d been on, while Ryn and Jallen walked a bit further back, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts.
Jallen, however, had his focus entirely fixed on the small red slime perched atop Damien’s head.
Luton.
For all his knowledge as a beast tamer, Jallen couldn’t make sense of what Luton truly was.
It didn’t fit into any classification of mana beast he’d ever encountered. Its absurd abilities—the speed, the devouring, and now its eerie sentience—set it apart from anything he’d studied or tamed.
He found himself puzzling over the creature, his mind racing with possibilities.
“Damien,” Jallen finally called out, breaking his silence. “Where… where did you find that thing?”
Damien didn’t even glance back. “I didn’t find Luton. It came to me.”
Jallen frowned. “Came to you? That doesn’t make sense. Mana beasts don’t—”
“They don’t normally bond without reason, right?” Damien interrupted, his tone even but curt. “Luton is an exception. Don’t try to understand it. You won’t.”
Jallen fell silent again, frustration mounting as he watched the seemingly innocuous slime wobble slightly on Damien’s head, as though taunting him.
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It was Jallen’s intense focus on Luton that made him notice it. Just a few dozen meters ahead of Damien, nestled in the shadows between two massive trees, he saw them—six faintly glowing pairs of eyes. The lights were dim but unmistakable, moving ever so slightly in the darkness.
“What…?” Jallen whispered, narrowing his eyes at the unusual sight.
At that exact moment, Damien stopped walking. His voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the quiet night.
“They’ve been following us since we entered the forest,” Damien said, his tone cold.
Arielle and the others immediately froze, their relaxed demeanor replaced by heightened alertness.
“What are you talking about?” Axiom asked, his hand already reaching for the hilt of his sword.
“Demons,” Damien answered simply, turning his head slightly. “There are about forty of them. Weak, but persistent. They think they’ve cornered us here in the forest.”
A shiver ran through the group as they instinctively looked around, the dense foliage and shadows playing tricks on their eyes.
“Cornered?” Axiom raised his brow in shock and intrigue.
Damien didn’t answer but instead nodded.
“Forty?” Vel asked, her voice cracking slightly.
“Give or take,” Damien replied casually. “They’ve been waiting for the right moment to strike. Now they think it’s time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Jallen hissed, his voice low but sharp.
Damien shrugged. “I wanted to see if they’d stay hidden or attack sooner. Besides, they’re not much of a threat. They’re exactly what I need right now.”
“Not much of a threat?” Ryn asked incredulously.
Damien ignored her, his silver eyes scanning the darkness. “Here’s the deal. I’ll handle them, but I need you all to keep them occupied for a bit. Just stall them. Let me finish this. I have… goals to meet.”
“Goals?” Axiom asked.
“I’m close to hitting my target,” Damien replied cryptically. “So, delay them. Don’t kill too many, just keep them busy.”
The group exchanged uneasy glances. The thought of going against forty demons, no matter how weak, wasn’t exactly comforting.
“Wait,” Arielle spoke up, stepping forward. “Damien, you can’t seriously—”
But before she could finish, Damien moved.
Vwooooosh…
“Damnit!” She cursed under her breath.
His figure blurred, vanishing from where he’d stood. A gust of wind rushed past the group, and within seconds, the forest erupted into chaos.
The demons attacked.
From every direction, dark, grotesque figures emerged from the shadows. Their twisted forms were illuminated only briefly by the faint moonlight that pierced the canopy.
Karrreeeii!!
Their guttural growls and screeches filled the air as they charged toward the group with clawed hands and glowing eyes.
Arielle barely had time to react before the first demon lunged at her. She instinctively drew her blade, parrying its claws and countering with a swift slash that sent it reeling.
Around her, Axiom and the others scrambled into formation, weapons drawn as they engaged the oncoming horde.
In the midst of it all, Damien was a whirlwind of destruction.
He moved through the demons with precision and ruthlessness, his silver blade flashing as it cut through their ranks.
Each swing was calculated, every movement fluid and efficient. Heads rolled, limbs were severed, and bodies fell in rapid succession.
Luton, too, joined the fray. The small red slime shot off Damien’s head and expanded, its body snatching up nearby demon corpses and devouring them in an instant. It moved with terrifying speed, its gelatinous form wrapping around its prey like a predator with no equal.
Arielle fought off another demon, her breathing heavy as she glanced toward Damien. He was in his element, completely focused on the task at hand.
“He’s… incredible,” Axiom muttered, cutting down a demon that had gotten too close.
“Understatement,” Jallen added, struggling to fend off another.
Despite the overwhelming number of demons, the group managed to hold their ground. Each of them fought with skill and determination, pushing back the tide of enemies as Damien had requested from them.
Only now did they understand that it was easier to face demons when the goal was to kill.
Now that they were fighting to stall the demons, it felt extra hard.
Still, it was clear that Damien was the centerpiece of the battle.
Minutes passed, and the tide began to shift. The demons, sensing the futility of their assault, started to hesitate. Their movements grew erratic, their attacks less coordinated.
Damien, covered in blood and breathing steadily, stopped in the middle of the battlefield. His sword hung loosely at his side, dripping with black ichor.
“Is that all?” he asked, his voice cold and mocking.
The remaining demons, just over a dozen of them hesitated, their glowing eyes darting between Damien and the group behind him. They seemed to realize that they were outmatched.
Luton bounced back to Damien, perching itself on his shoulder this time.
“Pathetic,” Damien muttered.
