Chapter 11
All who tried to hurt his family deserved death.
That was the verdict Sorial had already passed.
And that was exactly what he was going to serve them.
He raised his hand.
Several ters away, back at the Shural outpost, among the scattered belongings of his family, the white odachi he had left behind trembled. Then it scread through the air.
It flew at a terrifying speed. Demons in its path were cut apart before they could even react. Flesh split. Bodies fell. In seconds, it crossed the distance and slamd into Sorial’s waiting grip.
His icy blue eyes radiated a subtle chill as he spoke.
"The last ti I was forced to use this was in a battle with the devil himself."
His fingers tightened around the hilt.
"Now I will use it to kill all of you."
He turned his gaze to Scar.
"You damn pawn."
Sorial unsheathed the odachi.
The soft white hilt glimred. For a brief mont, the blade seed stuck, as if the world itself resisted its release. Then it slid free.
The pressure around Gazel and the others lessened instantly.
The pressure on the demons multiplied.
The blade shimred deep blue, its edges dark and sharp, and etched at the center was the sigil of a white dragon.
Bakaros’s smile froze.
The crushing force slamd into him. He blinked.
When he opened his eyes, Sorial was already there.
The blade ca down with brutal finality, aid straight for his throat.
A hand yanked Bakaros backward at the last instant.
Ti seed to pause.
Then it resud.
Bakaros was thrown far back as Scar appeared beside him, having saved him by a hair’s breadth.
Bakaros clutched his neck, staring at the blood staining his fingers. The sword had not fully struck him, yet the wound burned like hellfire.
That was what terrified him.
It was a shallow cut.
And it hurt this much.
His face twisted as realization set in.
"That sword..." he muttered. "It’s not ordinary."
Far from it.
It carried the power to kill a corruptor.
If his head had been taken, he would have truly died.
"We must go all out," Scar said, his voice tight, unsteady. "If we don’t, we won’t survive long."
In any other situation, Bakaros would have laughed at him.
Now, he did not.
The task they had been given was above their level. Far above it.
But there was no ti for doubt.
No room for hesitation.
Even a mont of uncertainty would cost them their lives.
"...Fine," Bakaros said. "No more restraint."
Scar nodded.
Imdiately, his body began to change.
Everything about him warped and hardened. His very being reshaped itself.
In monts, he no longer looked human.
He did not even look demonic.
He looked like an obsidian samurai.
His entire body and clothing beca hard black tal, gleaming with condensed power. At his sides hung two blades, each a different color, humming with lethal intent.
One blade was black.
The other was strange, unsettling. It looked like a mirror, reflecting the world’s destruction straight back at itself.
Bakaros’s body shimred. His face twisted, losing every last trace of humanity as it transford into a head made entirely of raging flas.
Fire writhed and fud with maddening frenzy. His red fingernails elongated further, reshaping into burning claws ant to rip and incinerate.
They were holding nothing back.
Even faced with their epic and terrifying transformations, Sorial’s gaze did not waver. He glanced back at the four, his voice warm but cautious.
"Stay away from the battlefront. I will handle this."
Then he vanished.
What followed was a deafening explosive shockwave where the obsidian samurai had stood.
The samurai reacted in ti, barely avoiding a fatal slash, and together with Bakaros they counterattacked.
The city scread.
What followed was a cacophony of destruction.
The already ruined city was torn apart even further. Flas rained from above, obliterating countless buildings.
Shockwaves rippled outward with such force that even kiloters away, Gazel felt them slam into his chest, sending chills down his spine.
Jarren shuddered beside him.
He turned toward Gazel, opening his mouth to say sothing, anything, to give his little brother courage. Then he stopped.
He fell silent.
How was he supposed to console soone when Gazel looked like he was handling it better than he was?
If this could even be called a situation.
It felt like the world itself was coming undone.
Like gods were fighting.
No, not really gods.
Demigods.
Gazel thought that the chaos would have swallowed the entire city if not for his father. Even in the middle of such a monstrous battle, Sorial was still containing it. Still protecting them.
Gazel’s heart trembled. His eyes shook.
"Please be safe, Dad," he whispered.
The battle raged.
It felt like hours.
In truth, only minutes passed.
Karren finally had a mont to breathe. The remaining demons had reached the sa conclusion.
Their presence no longer mattered. The battle that decided everything was happening high above the city.
Everyone stared upward.
They could no longer see the figures themselves. Only the devastation their clashes created.
Sound. Flas. Ruin.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, a massive cot plumted from the sky.
It slamd into the city, sending spiderwebs of cracks racing across the ground. A figure landed several ters away from Gazel and the others.
Gazel’s heart thumped violently.
As the smoke parted, a wide smile broke across his face.
"He did it," Gazel breathed. "Dad really did it."
Sorial stood tall, his grip on the white odachi firm and steady. Aside from a few shallow cuts, crimson trickling from them, he looked largely unhard.
He turned toward his family.
Seeing them safe, he released a quiet sigh.
Then he turned back toward the burning spiral of smoke.
His gaze hardened.
Darkened.
A figure staggered out of the smoke.
He struggled to stand. Blood poured freely from the two scars beneath his eyes, the wounds torn open once more as fresh crimson stread down his face.
Both of his hands were gone.
That alone said everything.
The way he stood, hunched and shaking, told the rest. Scar looked at Sorial, and for the first ti, fear crawled through his corrupted mind. Not rage. Not madness.
Fear.
He is strong. Too strong.
Bakaros was already dead. Forced to burn his Ruin to its absolute peak. Even after all that, they had failed to deal Storm Fang a fatal blow. Now Scar was the only one left.
And it was painfully clear.
He would not last long.
Sorial tightened his grip on the odachi, the blade humming faintly as he raised it. One clean strike.
End the corrupter. Take his family and get out of this ruined city.
Just as he shifted his stance, ready to move, it ca.
A presence.
Sharp. Vast. Crushing.
It washed over him like a tidal wave, forcing a shudder through his body. Not just him. It swept across everything. The entire city felt it. Every soul beneath the sky.
A colossal pressure descended.
Sorial’s eyes widened, thoughts colliding in panic.
No. It cannot be.
Scar’s expression changed for a single heartbeat. Recognition flickered through his eyes, burning away the fear.
In the next instant, he collapsed forward, slamming onto his knees. His head bowed so low it touched the ground.
"We welco the Lord."
All around them, demons dropped as one. Knees hit the ground. Heads bowed.
"We welco the Lord."
The words echoed. A chorus. Strange. Reverent. Almost lodic.
Gazel stared at the scene, his mind blank. Questions scread inside his head, but his mouth would not move. Then the presence hit him fully.
Fear. Malice. Dread.
Sothing ancient and absolute wrapped around his body and froze him in place. His limbs trembled violently.
What is this?
His entire body shook.
Footsteps followed.
Soft. Steady.
Yet each step seed to press down on the ruined city itself.
Gazel forced his head up.
His family looked just like him, frozen, trembling, crushed beneath invisible weight.
Even the demons were not spared. The only one still standing was their father.
And even Sorial was not untouched.
That expression on his face.
Dread.
Fear.
Terror.
He whispered sothing under his breath. Gazel could not hear it, but he read his lips easily.
Two words.
"He’s here."
A figure erged from the smoke.
Black shoes glead, polished to perfection.
A white suit and trousers, no inner black cloth beneath. Both hands rested calmly in his pockets. A pristine white hat sat neatly atop his head.
He walked toward them with casual confidence.
The demons parted before him without a word. He did not acknowledge them. He simply passed through, indifferent.
As he drew closer, his face remained hidden by his hair. Only the lower half was visible.
Human.
Too flawless. Too perfect to be a demon.
Then he smiled.
Quick. Sharp.
No malice in it.
Yet Sorial froze.
Gazel’s skin crawled.
The figure lifted his head.
Two crimson eyes glowed unnaturally beneath the moonlight.
"Long ti no see," he said softly.
"Little Sorial."
TO BE CONTINUED.....
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