Chapter Six
"Such insolence… deserves death."
Father Trystan's voice was cold. Absolute. His gaze locked onto the two demons a few meters away, and the air itself seemed to shrink under that stare.
Behind him, the man in black widened his eyes.
He had already counted down his death. Already accepted it.
Those purple, thorned beams had done this to him. Reduced him to this broken, bleeding state. He knew he could not survive another barrage. Yet somehow… he was still breathing.
So this is him.
His gaze drifted to the man standing calmly at the front. Broad back. Straight posture. Not a shred of panic. Not even irritation.
That is him.
The Storm Fang.
The thought echoed in his mind as his eyes locked onto that unmoving figure.
Gazel's father tilted his head slightly, one blue eye shifting to the badly wounded Shural.
"You were sent by the Legion?" he asked.
The Shural stared at him for a long moment with starry, unfocused eyes. Then he nodded.
His legs gave out.
He fell to his knees, blood still oozing from the wound in his side.
"Take care of your injury," Gazel's father, Sorial, said quietly. "I will handle this."
Then he turned back to the demons.
The bulky demon clenched his teeth.
Why… why does he have such a devastating presence?
Humans were supposed to tremble. Humans were supposed to feel dread and primal fear when they faced demons.
But now it felt reversed.
They were the ones afraid.
Sorial spoke again, calm, steady, cold.
"Speak. Who sent you?"
The bulky demon forced his mind to hold together, fighting the crushing pressure gnawing at his instincts.
"As if I'd tell you," he snarled.
He charged.
His speed doubled as he crossed the distance in an instant, arms shooting forward. Thorny claws erupted from his hands, tearing through the air, ready to rip apart anything in their path.
But before he could reach him…
Something was wrong.
"Huh?"
The bulky demon stumbled to a stop, landing on the other side.
He was alive.
No pain.
No blood.
Isn't he supposed to be dead?
Wasn't the arrogant human supposed to be torn apart?
Sorial opened his eyes fully.
"You die first," he said.
He snapped his fingers.
The sound was soft.
What followed was not.
The bulky demon swelled, his body distorting, skin stretching as if something inside him was trying to escape. Then, in a single breath, he was sliced apart into countless pieces.
They burned away midair.
The second demon collapsed to his knees.
Fear rooted itself deep, sinking into his bones, impossible to tear out.
Sorial turned to him once more.
"Who sent you," he asked, "and why are you here?"
The demon broke.
He told him everything.
They were sent by a higher demon. One who went by the name Scar. Their mission was simple. Stop the Shural. Prevent the message from reaching them.
When he finished, the demon looked up, trembling, waiting.
Mercy.
Sorial's first action gave him hope.
He turned his back.
The demon ran.
All restraint gone, he bolted with inhuman speed, desperate to escape, desperate to live.
Sorial's blue eyes glowed faintly.
He flicked a finger behind him.
The wind screamed.
A massive current erupted forward, moving with insane speed, its roar like a raging tsunami as it tore through the air toward the fleeing demon.
The purple thorned demon never got the chance to scream.
The purple thorned demon never got to scream.
The wind current hit him, and what followed was nothing but him turning into bloody gore.
The Shural, still trying and failing to stem his bleeding, watched the scene unfold with stunned disbelief etched across his face.
Two high rank monsters.
Killed in a blink.
And he did not even bat an eye.
So this is the power of an ex Gold ranked Shural…
His gaze drifted to the man now calmly looking back at him.
The Shural smiled and tried to speak, but his body betrayed him. He coughed, a large mouthful of blood spilling from his lips.
Sorial knelt beside him and examined the wound.
"It's deep," he said. "Very severe. You need a healer. Come. I will take you to one."
The young Shural shook his head weakly, a faint smile still on his face.
"No… it's my honor, sir. Storm Fang."
Then his expression changed.
The warmth vanished, replaced by urgency, by fear.
"Don't bother about me," he said, voice trembling.
"I only have a few fleeting moments left. I won't make it. But you can."
He grabbed Sorial's sleeve with what little strength he had left.
"You have to leave. The Devil has found your location. Everyone here will soon be dead."
He kept talking, forcing the words out through the pain. The Legion had prepared a place.
Somewhere he could hide. Somewhere they could buy time until things were brought under control.
Sorial listened without interrupting.
His face showed nothing.
But the subtle tightening of his fist, the oppressive aura bleeding into the air around him, betrayed the truth.
He was not calm.
His mind was in turmoil.
The Devil.
That cursed word had haunted him since his early days.
That cursed existence that had always tried to sink its claws into the Trystan bloodline, for a reason that remained unknown.
The Devil was the reason Sorial quit being a Shural. The reason he disappeared quietly with his family all those years ago.
And no matter how far he ran…
It was still at his heels.
Things were worse now.
Damn him.
Fear twisted into hatred. Hatred into anger.
Then he felt a weak hand press against his knee.
He looked down.
The Shural's eyes were dimming, life slipping away.
"You have to leave," the man whispered. "You have to run. The Devil must not get his hands on the Trystan bloodline. If he does… it will all be over."
He forced one last breath.
"That… is the Master Order."
His eyes went completely dark.
His body went limp.
Sorial rose to his feet.
His expression was cold. Sharp.
He wanted to face the Devil.
He wanted to kill it.
But he knew the truth.
No matter how powerful his aura was. No matter how skilled he had become.
He was not strong enough.
And more than anything else, he had to get his family out of its reach.
Minutes later, Sorial and the rest of the Trystan family were already leaving the ruined city behind, riding far from it on mounts that were anything but mundane.
They reached another city several kilometers away in record time.
Gazel stepped down with the others and looked up at the sign.
Bladyso City.
His eyes lit up.
It was one of the few cities he had always wanted to explore. A place his father had warned him against again and again.
But the excitement died a second later.
Something was wrong.
His father had returned and told them to pack and leave immediately. Gazel had barely managed to grab the present he received that morning.
Today was supposed to be his day.
Everything had been happy. Peaceful.
Until his father came back with that heavy gaze.
And if that was not enough to tell him something was terribly wrong…
The white odachi clenched tightly in his father's hand said the rest.
There was danger.
That much was certain
.
But what kind?
Bandits? A cult?
The family passed through the lively streets of Bladyso City, laughter and noise filling the air, lanterns glowing, people moving freely. Yet Sorial felt none of it.
His nerves were tight, stretched thin, as if at any moment everything would change.
He did not want anything to change.
He wanted his family safe.
Above all else.
That was why he decided to stay at the Shural outpost near the edge of the city.
Jarren walked along, yawning, completely relaxed. Karren looked around excitedly, her eyes shining. She must have felt the thrill of a new place.
Gazel felt none of that.
If anything, the feeling in his chest was getting worse.
A bad premonition.
It crawled under his skin, growing heavier with every step.
They stopped in front of two massive doors.
A scent hit Sorial first.
His eyes widened.
He kicked the large metallic entrance gate.
It tore free.
He stepped inside.
And stopped cold.
Jarren's eyes widened.
Karren covered her mouth.
Their mother pulled little Trent's face into her chest, blocking his view. The baby only giggled, oblivious.
Gazel swallowed hard, a single thought burning in his mind.
This is exactly like my nightmare.
And he was right.
Bodies were piled on top of each other.
Some were headless. Others had limbs ripped away. Blood flowed like a river across the floor.
And among the corpses were several wearing uniforms.
Shural uniforms.
Sorial's grip on his odachi tightened.
"We have been ambushed," he said, his voice low and grim.
As if his words were a signal…
Every light in the city went out at once.
To be continued…....