Chapter 56: Predator's Feast
Clinging to the ceiling, Azakh-Tur's eyes tracked the fight below. No lull, no breath between clashes...just fire, steel, and beasts ripping at each other.
Even climbing into position had been a crawl through hell. Explosions painted the dark in bursts of red and green. Insects glimmered across the chamber, thick in the pit and scattered along the stone walls. Their glow scratched at his vision like a plague of tiny eyes.
'Humans truly are interesting… Even Dirk. Shame he couldn't show me more.'
That experiment had given him plenty. The truth of it? He had a problem. No matter how he tried to stay focused on plotting the death of the hunters and their quarry, part of his mind was stuck on one thought: the Dead Hands.
A streak of black flames split the chamber, forcing his focus back. Hellfire, the other humans hadn't balked at it. No panic. No rage. That only made his problem worse.
Dirk's crew had shown what he already suspected—humans turned on demons the second the mask dropped. Even the loyal ones. But they also showed him another truth: push them far enough, grind them down until survival's the only thing left, and they'll bend.
Yet here these hunters stood, treating one who reeked of demons as one of their own. His confusion sharpened. He'd need to experiment more.
Seo-jin's memories whispered the lesson, but first-hand proof always tasted better.
Keeping watch, Pain and Panic skulked along the wall, their restlessness bleeding through the link. Patience was not their strength. He could feel them twitch with the urge to leap.
'I can't hide them forever. Every skill of mine screams demon anyway. No disguise covers that... I know you're listening. Any suggestions?'
[User could always abandon this identity and start again elsewhere.]
He'd considered it. But loss didn't sit right. This body, this face, the weight of what he'd already claimed—it was his now. And he wasn't giving it up.
BOOOM!
The battlefield split with beast-fire. A massive blast from the scorchclaw tore across the chamber and smashed against a wall of green system light.
Jackle, half-man, half-dragon, planted his hammer deep in the stone. His roar cut through the blast as steel rails bent and rock split beneath his heels.
"Dammit! This is taking too long!"
The pressure broke, and instinct took over. He ripped the hammer free, spun, and slammed its head into the paw attacking through the smoke.
The impact blasted the haze apart.
The female Scorchclaw stood revealed—burned, half her face melted off, blood sizzling in the hellfire that still clung to her hide. She staggered on her broken paw, the sound of its bones breaking ripped from the impact.
"Clear!"
Nox's voice rolled out heavy, guttural, like something dragged up from Hell.
Jackle leapt back with everything he had, clearing forty feet in one bound.
"Hey! Ugly!"
Nox's eyes burned black, his body cracking apart at the seams. He'd triggered his ultimate—one shot, twenty-four hours of cooldown, no second chance. The beast wasn't dying fast enough.
His arms rose high, skin splitting, embers bleeding from the cracks. His voice shredded his throat.
"Burn, bitch!"
A red demonic circle erupted under the Scorchclaw. In a heartbeat, a column of flame speared upward, swallowing her whole.
The chamber lit in blood-fire.
Nox trembled under the weight of the skill, every muscle locked, mana pouring out of him in torrents. His face twisted with strain. If this didn't kill her, he was finished.
Both Baba-Yaga and Cloud turned, shielding their eyes from the inferno.
"That boy was hiding his strength. Seems his father didn't fail him in everything."
Baba-yaga's attention snapped back almost instantly. Half her swarm was ash, the rest injured. Only two still held fast...her true children.
Crimson Cythaloids. Giant centipedes bred inside her gut, birthed through blood and agony. Ninety-seven generations refined in her flesh, until these two crawled out, stronger than any before. Her pride. Her weapons. Her precious.
"Cloud. If my children die, I will hold you, and that boy, responsible."
Her words came soft, but Cloud felt the knife buried in them. He spat into his hands, rubbed them together, his body shaking with fatigue.
"Yeah, I should've asked for more."
His aura broke wide open. No mist this time, water fell in torrents, raging around him in streams that bent like serpents. They twisted, coiled, until three vast halos hung at his back.
"Ha!"
His arms shot outward. System light ripped across the chamber as the halos launched, snapping onto the centipedes and the male Scorchclaw.
"One minute! After that, it's on you!"
A glowing pot blinked into his hand. He cracked it, drained it in one go, and wiped his mouth.
"Finally you used it."
Baba-Yaga's lips split in a grin. Her children glowed under the halo, their torn shells knitting, their movements sharper. Even the Scorchclaw hissed as the water gnawed its burning hide, eating at its flames.
She pulled a bottle from her inventory, snapped it open, and breathed in the brown smoke. Her aura detonated, orange and violent, washing the chamber in somber light. At the same moment, the Cythaloids surged.
They shrieked as they tore in, pincers splitting hide, legs stabbing like knives. The Scorchclaw bellowed, blood spraying in ropes as the insects ripped and burrowed, the Sentinels body collapsing under the renewed assault.
Cloud's eyes widened.
"She might solo…"
Across the battlefield, Nox's Hellfire finally sputtered out. His arms dropped like dead weight, skin flaking away in black ash. Now back in his normal form, Nox's eyes clung to the flames sputtering out ahead.
"Come on… come on…"
Green light caught his vision...Jackle stepping beside him, hammer raised, jade scales glowing in the dying firelight.
"Get ready. It's almost over."
Nox's shoulders eased. For all his grumbling, Jackle was unshakable when it mattered. Out of everyone here, he was the anchor.
"Three percent left. As soon as she's dead, we—"
The words cut as his hammer flared. Jackle spun, blocking a blow none of them had seen coming, steel and stone cracking under the weight of the impact.
"We're under attack!"
His roar thundered through the chamber. But the voice that answered carried no weight, no fear...only hunger.
"Too late."
[Savage Feed // Activated]
Darkness swallowed. Fangs, endless and gnashing, filled the large man's sight. As Cloud's shout tore out behind them, Jackle vanished—half a body gone in one, bloody bite.
Nox leapt back, barely dodging the second. His skin went white, eyes shaking as he realized the man he was depending on was dead.
"Motherfucker!"
Fire burst from his palms, wild and desperate. Two orbs struck the maw as it shrank, detonating in sheets of flame.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The air roared with fire as he began spamming his skill, but no damage notifications appeared.
Their numbers were dropping, Cloud was already running away from the battlefield. Blood poured from his neck as he held it, his hand glowing as he tried desperately to hold himself together.
"Nuts… all nuts! Should've stayed in—"
An upside-down face dropped in front of him. Rows of teeth.
"Where ya goin'?!"
Panic slammed into him, claws wrapping around his head, dragging him down. They hit the ground hard. Screams mixed with laughter as the broodling stabbed wildly. Pain joined a moment later, crushing and tearing.
Chaos detonated.
Baba-Yaga screamed as her children buckled without healing. One was ripped apart, pincers snapping uselessly as the male Sentinel split its shell. Her shrieks turned into curses, bottles smashing at her feet, smoke rolling as her aura spiked.
"Cloud, get back here, you coward! Nox! What's happening?! Why is Jackle dead?!"
Her voice broke under the noise.
Another scream. Cloud. Wet and short.
Another gone.
She turned just in time to see her child split in two, the Scorchclaw's fangs buried deep, flames carving through chitin.
"Gorra! Damn it! NOX!"
Nox's reply froze her blood.
"Something ate him!"
Nox's fire sputtered out. Sweat rolled down his face. His chest heaved. Still, no notifications.
"No… no way…"
The flames cleared. Horns caught the light. Fangs reflected fire, while a tail cracked the air. Cleavers ready.
"It's impossible."
Azakh-Tur stepped from the blaze, murder in his hands, his body sheathed in bloodlight.
"Flames like yours can't even keep me warm."
[Fire Resistance // 100%]
[Hellfire // Active]
[Fiendskin // Active]
His voice carried like a blade across stone.
"I'll show you true Hellfire."
Only two humans still stood. Both exhausted, both broken. The Sentinels burned, near death.
An easy meal.
"Just don't die too quickly."