Chapter 28: Deathly Counterattack
Kurtz sprinted through the forest, branches whipping past his face as the demon's footsteps thundered behind him.
Each breath scraped his throat raw, tasting of copper and desperation.
The good news was that he ran alone; the enemy seemed to have sent most of their forces to deal with Serie.
The bad news was that even with only one demon, Kurtz lacked confidence for victory.
His body burned with a dozen different kinds of pain. Every breath carried the metallic scent of his own blood, and the phantom heat from the explosion still crawled under his skin like living fire.
Just the aftermath grazing him had left his body feeling like a cracked vessel barely holding together.
'At least Serie's safe.'
The thought comforted him as another wave of agony shot through his ribs.
He'd pushed her away just in time, with such a terrifying attack, even her defensive barriers might not have withstood a direct hit.
He wanted to stop, to lean against a tree and just breathe for one precious moment. But the demon's presence pressed against his back like a physical weight.
Every step he took away from that battlefield brought Serie another step closer to safety. Without this demon's control, the remaining monsters would become nothing more than mindless beasts. She could handle them.
"Stop, creature, you can't escape!" The demon's voice cut through the night air, thick with hunger that made Kurtz's stomach turn.
"Your blood smells so good!"
The words hit him like ice water. 'Perverted bastard.'
But even as the disgust washed over him, understanding followed close behind.
Demons ate humans, he knew that much from the stories. But in this mythical era, humans appeared so rare that most demons had probably never encountered one.
No wonder this creature followed him with such single-minded determination. Personal hatred didn't drive the pursuit.
Pure, primal appetite did.
'He wants to eat me.'
The realisation should have terrified him. Instead, it just pissed him off.
'I'm no one's dinner.'
Kurtz pushed his legs harder, ignoring how his vision swayed with each jarring step. The forest blurred past him until suddenly,
A cliff came into his view.
His heart plummeted faster than his feet could stop.
Below, silver moonlight painted a ribbon of water that looked deceptively peaceful from this height. Thirty, maybe forty meters down.
Even with the river as a cushion, hitting water from this distance would feel like slamming into stone.
"Can't run now, can you?" The demon's voice dripped satisfaction as he emerged from the tree line.
Ash-grey skin made him look like something carved from a graveyard, and his smile revealed teeth that had definitely tasted blood before.
The closer he came, the more his control seemed to slip. Hunger radiated from him in waves that made the air itself feel sick and wrong. Kurtz had seen that look before on starving animals backed into corners.
Dangerous didn't begin to cover it.
But as Kurtz looked down at the churning water below, then back at the approaching demon, something shifted inside him.
The fear crystallised into something harder. More useful.
"Who said I was running?"
'All or nothing. Win or die trying.'
The demon paused, confusion flickering across his predatory features. That heartbeat of hesitation gave Kurtz all he needed.
Magic power erupted from his core like a dam bursting. Dozens of thick vines exploded from the forest floor, writhing like serpents as they coiled around the demon's arms and legs.
"Ridiculous trick!"
Even bound, the demon's voice carried no real concern. His muscles bulged against the restraints, and the sound of snapping plant matter filled the air like breaking bones.
Each severed vine sent feedback pain shooting through Kurtz's skull, but he kept his expression steady.
"Of course it's not just this, you idiot." Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his sneer never wavered.
This demon embodied a nightmare made flesh, magic, monster control, and physical strength that could snap a dwarf's neck. The perfect storm of abilities that made Kurtz grateful he'd led the bastard away from Serie.
The last vine snapped. The demon launched himself forward with fluid grace that belonged on something much smaller, clearly intending to take his prey alive.
'Wants to savour the meal, does he?'
Kurtz unleashed a barrage of Light Arrows, brilliant spears of energy that should have turned anything into Swiss cheese.
But this demon moved like liquid shadow, dodging what he could and raising shimmering barriers to deflect the rest.
'Oh, c'mon! He's a close-combat fighter too, as if being a regular demon wasn't unfair enough.'
With the creature bearing down on him, Kurtz reached for his trump card.
The spell he'd saved, the one even Serie had never seen.
He'd planned to show it to her once he'd perfected the technique, maybe earn one of her rare approving nods.
'Guess she'll have to settle for hearing about it second hand.'
He extended his palm, and reality seemed to bend around the complex magic circle that bloomed in his grip. For an instant, the world went black, not just dark, but empty of light, as if someone had erased the concept itself.
Then colour returned, leaving only a tiny point of brilliant radiance floating above his palm.
"Buddha's Fury Lotus."
He still named his attacks, even when no one stayed around to hear. Call it nostalgia for a different world.
The point of light touched the demon's torso, and magic detonated.
The explosion lit up the forest like a miniature sun.
When the spots cleared from Kurtz's vision, half the demon's body had simply ceased to exist—not burned or torn, but gone, as if reality had decided those atoms belonged elsewhere.
The demon's scream tore through the night, raw and animal. For the first time since the chase began, genuine fear flickered in those predatory eyes.
Kurtz staggered backward, his magic reserves scraped so raw he could taste the emptiness.
Loose stones shifted under his feet, and the cliff's edge felt suddenly very close.
'Should have aimed for the head.'
But even as the regret formed, he already looked down at the silver river below.
"Looks like this is as far as I go."
The demon raised one trembling hand, rage overwhelming pain as he gathered power for a final strike. The attack lanced out—not precise, just pure destructive fury seeking any target.
It caught Kurtz in the chest and sent him tumbling backward over the edge.
Wind rushed past his ears as the world spun. Below, moonlight turned the water into hammered silver, beautiful and deadly.
'At least Serie's safe.'
The thought followed him down into the darkness.
Above, the demon's roar of frustration echoed across the forest until footsteps approached from behind.
"Where's Kurtz?"
Serie's voice cut through the night like a blade. She moved with predatory grace; her usually pristine appearance wore the blood of a dozen different monsters.
Most of it wasn't hers.
The demon's remaining eye focused on her with obvious effort.
"Elve's hidden magic? You won't be able to use magic for a while after that display."
"That's not something a dying creature should worry about." Serie's golden eyes held no warmth, no mercy, just cold calculation.
"Where is Kurtz?"
"So that's what they called the human?" The demon's body writhed against the ground, buying time for regeneration that would never come.
Serie didn't give him the chance.
A ring of pure light severed his remaining limbs with surgical precision, ensuring he'd never cast another spell.
Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Answer me, and I'll make it quick."
"He fell! You'll never—"
The demon never finished the sentence. A pillar of light descended from the heavens, engulfing him in radiance that burned away shadow and flesh alike.
In his final moments, emotions he'd never experienced, fear, pain, and regret, crashed over him in waves.
But no time remained to understand what they meant.
Serie watched without expression as the demon crumbled to ash, then turned toward the cliff's edge. Below, the river caught the moonlight like scattered diamonds.
She remembered Kurtz explaining once how water could cushion a fall, how the right conditions might let someone survive what should mean certain death.
"Wait for me."
The words barely formed a breath, but they carried the weight of an absolute promise.
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