Satyr-Stalkers. They're demons that work in perfect coordination. They don't have ears; they feel the ground beneath them.
And a B-ranked stalker is strong enough to kill a tempered or a beginner emenant ranked knight. They're strong, fast, and silent.
Their muscles are actually bundles of vines.
This makes them incredibly resistant to slashing damage. Their most unique feature is the ocular cluster, the Grapes.
These eyes perceive heat, mana-flow, and even the intent.
There's a saying. 'Never engage a stalker alone. If you see one, five are already behind you.'
But this time, there were tens of thousands of them. They had moved fast from where they previously hidden, and surrounded us in seconds.
They were following someone's orders.
And in the outskirts of hell, there's only one kind of demon that can make them follow his command.
The Fallen King. Sommelier.
"We're gonna die…there's no way we can outrun them, there are so many. This rift's rank is beyond S; it's something else, entirely," Alistair, the support magician cadet, kept murmuring, feeling the dread of death.
"Keep calm, everyone. No one's going to die here, we'll make it back…" Jose tried to reason the children, but he was terrified himself. Jose was a war veteran, he too was an emenant ranked knight, but he knew that death was imminent.
"They're watching…Stalkers will move once we do," Robert spoke.
"So, ready yourself, we'll make a run for it, knights will surround the cadets, magicians students will form an impenetrable barrier, and none of you will stop running," Robert stood in front of Jose and looked at the cadets.
"A sommelier loves to hunt its prey from afar; it won't make a move unless it feels the need to, so we'll run for the rift, and our goal will be to reach the rift before the sommelier expects us to,"
"How long do you think it'll take for him reach here?" Hedge spoke, scoffing at Robert's words. He was slightly drunk on the air of wine. "Sommelier is S-ranked. He can reach here in less than ten minutes. It will take us an hour, even if we run while burning our aura. We're dead, Ser Robert,"
"Just don't lose hope, that's the only way you can survive," Thomas replied to Hedge's words.
"These are demons either way. Mindless demons, you can outmanoeuvre them, or do you think of yourself as a weak child?" Geoffrey added.
"…"
No one responded. They already had their mind made up about death.
And I couldn't blame them for it.
Even if I use shadow style, I doubt I can outrun thousands of stalkers and a sommelier.
"It'll take one hour because of the terrain, right? What if it were a straight road ahead?" I asked, looking at Thomas.
"What do you mean?" Robert asked, as everyone looked at me.
"I mean…what if there were no mountains, just a straight path to the rift?" I asked.
"Is that even possible?" He asked back.
"Just answer my question," I said.
"It will take less than ten minutes, or just five to reach the rift," Robert replied.
"Is that so…?" I murmured, walking past the cadets, standing at the cliff of the mountain peak we were on.
It takes a lot of power to perceive an opponent stronger than me. Sometimes perception doesn't even work.
But mountains and the stalkers in my line of sight aren't strong.
"It's worth a try," I murmured.
"What're you suggesting, Count Rile?" Henry asked, looking at the still-standing stalkers.
"The moment I clear the path…ask no questions, just make a run for it," I said. "And Jose, and Robert, pick two magician cadets while you run, Thomas and Robert will pick up knights, and your complete focus will be on the run, pour all your power into your legs. You all are emenant ranked knights, burst the fucking ground up, but don't compromise your speed,"
"That feels ominous, Count," Robert spoke.
"What about you?" he asked.
"Just focus on the run, Robert, get the children out, and don't look back," I said, concentrating on the scenery ahead.
"The sommelier won't move for a minute, trying to process what has happened, and you have enough power to cover the distance within a minute."
My focus completely drifted to the thousands of stalkers and the piles of mountains of vines.
Perception cannot affect someone powerful or equal in power to me. But mountains are lifeless, and stalkers are B-ranked.
<<
I closed my eyes, and in the split of a second, the world ahead of me turned into black and white, as if drawn on the canvas.
<<
I brought my index finger in front of my face. As a mass of liquid blank ink started forming in the tip of my finger.
It rotated intensely with its ink absorbing the white light of my canvas world.
<<
I marked the black dot in the centre of the mind canvas.
Black aura manifested in the real world, devouring every piece of existence as it launched forward in straight path.
One third of the stalkers were caught in the collapse along the lines of mountains that now created a straight path to the rift we had entered from.
**Boom**
Without a word, Thomas, Robert, Henry, Edmund, Geoffrey, and Jose picked up the cadets and ran, creating a disastrous boom on the peak of the mountain I was standing on.
They didn't ask what had occurred; they just vanished even before the stalkers or the sommelier could process what had occurred.
I stumbled back on my legs, and layed down on the ground. I will power had exceeded by hundred folds with the death loop training of Orochi, but my aura reserve was still the same.
And it would take me a minute to calm my mind.
*---------Shriek----------*
A deadly scream shook the whole realm. It was powerful enough to bring me back to my senses, as I manifested my katana in my hands and stood up.
*---------Shriek----------*
The stalkers surrounding me convulsed and squirmed in pain; they weren't able to handle the scream, as their vines started shedding and tore apart from the frequency they took in from the ground.
Then, everything turned silent.
Dead silent.
Not a single body of a stalker, or the vines of the mountain, made a pulse. It was an eerie silence.
Sensing something, I instinctively raised my katana in front of my face to block something.
*Bang*
A severe shockwave of a punch, as if a high-speed truck had slammed into my body, sent me flying backwards.
I balanced myself, feet dragging on the ground, and stabbed the katana into the ground to halt the drag.
I still hadn't come to my senses properly. Perception had taken a deadly toll on me.
I looked ahead. A demon with no face or neck.
In place of his head was a cracked crown fused to his shoulders.
He was terrifyingly tall and skinny. His chest was wide open, with ribs that stuck out like the legs of a dead spider.
Inside his chest, I could see his organs convulsing, a disgusting purple liquid.
He had two legs that looked like rotten deer legs.
"Oh, hello there~" I voiced out barely above a whisper.
He was a sommelier. Also known as the fallen King of the fringes.