Chapter 68: The Unknown Demon

Chapter 66

“The cold killer,” Blaze said.

He did not sound impressed. He sounded cautious.

He has the highest kill count among the Five Terrors. And the worst part was this. Those kills were not just demons. Demons were the majority, yes, but humans too. Mostly rogues and Shurals who strayed off the path.

Blaze did not let Gazel interrupt. He kept going.

According to him, the Itsuki family was once one of the greatest Shural families to ever exist. Still, they never came close to the Ochang family. Blaze’s family. At that point, Gazel was almost certain Blaze was spouting bullshit about his lineage.

Almost.

Still, the information painted a clear picture.

Ashiro was a cold blooded killer. A man said to have no emotions whatsoever beyond killing his enemies and targets in cold blood. Unlike other Shurals, he radiated cold. He was unapproachable. The only people he was ever seen with were the other Terrors. His only friends in the entire organization.

Gazel found himself pitying the man.

That feeling lasted barely a minute.

Blaze began listing his accomplishments.

Ashiro was by far the most competent Silver Shural in the entire organization. He was said to have never failed a mission. Not even once. His name struck fear into the hearts of enemies and brought relief to the hearts of allies. Theoretically speaking. He mostly fought alone and only on rare occasions fought alongside the other Terrors.

“That’s all you need to know about the Five Terrors,” Blaze said, finishing his report.

Gazel nodded.

The four starred silver badges on their chests already told him they were ranked above the Nightflash, yet their power was on a completely different level from ordinary Silver Shurals.

The implication was heavy.

Being suspected by Ashiro, someone even more dangerous and ruthless than Gazel had once imagined, was terrifying. Gazel was certain of one thing. He was being watched. He would have to keep his guard up around that man if they ever crossed paths.

He had no doubt about it.

Once Ashiro was fully certain Gazel was a demon, no one would be able to save him. There was one thing everyone knew about Ashiro.

His hatred for demons.

The duo went silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

Then the last people everyone had been waiting for finally stepped forward.

Gazel and Blaze’s hearts raced uncontrollably.

Standing at the center of the three was the man who genuinely wanted them dead.

Master C.

The worst part was his gaze. The moment he stepped onto the platform, his eyes locked onto the two of them. Dark. Sharp. Dangerous.

There was no doubt about it.

He knew them.

And nothing in that gaze promised mercy.

Heat surged through Gazel’s body. Sweat broke out instantly.

Master C suddenly flashed a bright smile at the crowd. To the duo, it was not a smile. Honestly, not just to them. To the entire gathered crowd.

After all, Master C was one of the most popular Shurals in the entire Ayde Kingdom, despite rarely leaving his research lab. For those who knew him, he could be described with one word.

A lunatic.

A damn overpowered lunatic.

Before Gazel and Blaze could spiral into a nervous breakdown, the oldest woman Gazel had ever seen stepped forward.

Truly old.

Gazel had barely seen elderly people before. A few times, maybe. But all of them paled in comparison to this woman. Unlike the Shurals dressed in black, she wore white that flowed like candlelight. Her body was wrinkled, fragile looking, as if time itself had tried to crush her. She seemed well over a hundred years old.

If Gazel knew her true age, he would have been stunned.

She had lived far beyond a mere century.

When she spoke, her voice carried no cracks, no weakness. It came out smooth and pleasant to the ear. Warm. Calm. As if the speaker was not an ancient woman at all, but a mature one in her prime.

“Welcome, all, to the summit,” she said.

As most of you have already guessed, you were brought here for a very important reason.

Her slit eyes opened fully as she continued, her voice low but deep, calm yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

“We lost a few Shurals yesterday. They died inside the organization.”

The words drew murmurs from the crowd. Gasps. Uneasy whispers. Those who already had the news stayed silent, their expressions sharpening as they waited to see what the higher ups planned to do.

The third man Blaze and Gazel recognized stepped forward. The same one who had taken the beating from Master C instead of them.

Gazel’s eyes dropped to his silver badge.

Five stars.

It clicked.

So the Five Terrors were not the peak of the Silver Shurals after all. These three were.

The head healer did not waste time on words. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device. His thumb pressed down on the red jade set at its center.

A projection burst into the air.

A handsome youth appeared, no older than his late teens. Short black hair, slightly perky. Clean face. Alive.

One of the victims.

Relatives in the crowd reacted instantly. Eyes reddened. Fists clenched. Some trembled as they received the confirmation they had been dreading.

Gazel reacted too.

His eyes widened slightly as a fuzzy memory surfaced in his mind.

He saw himself holding the head of the projected teenager. The boy’s mouth was frozen open in an eternal scream of agony.

Gazel sucked in a sharp breath and shook the image away.

What the hell was that.

He did not even know who this guy was. How was he supposed to have killed him.

Before he could fully push the thought aside, the head healer spoke.

“The victim known as Rasno Sorak was found with his head ripped apart. His body was marred beyond words.”

Gazel’s mind jolted.

What were the odds that the image he saw was real.

Surely it was not.

The projection vanished and was replaced by another man. Older. Bald. Clearly in his twenties.

His relatives and friends reacted violently. Some cried out loud, their grief breaking through the hall.

At the same time, another image slammed into Gazel’s mind.

The man knelt at his feet. Both arms sliced clean off. Begging for mercy.

Gazel saw himself pierce the man’s throat without hesitation.

Dead on the spot.

“What the hell is this,” Gazel thought, squeezing his eyes shut to force the vision away.

“He is also dead,” the head healer said, then switched to the next projection.

Relief washed over Gazel when the healer did not confirm what he had seen.

What he did not hear were the thoughts running through the healer’s mind as he moved on.

The bald man’s death had been brutal. Both arms severed. Signs of deep, unnatural torture. His throat pierced by unnaturally sharp claw marks.

The head healer chose not to describe it to the crowd.

Instead, he moved to the final victim.

A younger man appeared. Brown hair. A small, gentle smile. He looked peaceful. Kind.

Those who knew him felt their hearts tear apart. They already knew what this meant.

And at that exact moment, another vision rose in Gazel’s mind.

Clearer.

Closer.

Too real.

He saw it clearly.

The youth clawed backward in pure terror, his body soaked in blood. Gazel walked toward him. One step at a time. Slow. Unhurried.

The boy pleaded for mercy. He said somethings. Words Gazel did not understand. Or maybe did not care enough to understand.

In the end, he killed him in cold blood.

Gazel snapped back to reality, drenched in sweat.

They were just thoughts. Just visions. Right?

His hands trembled.

Then why did they feel so real.

Why did it feel like memory instead of imagination.

Before he could steady himself, another vision slammed into his mind.

A figure stood there.

A girl.

Short black hair. Dark eyes. Empty. She watched him slaughter the group without a flicker of emotion. No anger. No fear. No hesitation.

Nothing.

Gazel’s eyes widened as he turned sharply to his right.

She was still there.

Those same dead eyes were staring straight at him.

It’s her. She’s there.

His thoughts spiraled.

What if the visions were not visions at all.

What if they were real.

What if all of it was true.

His lips quivered as a thought crossed his mind. One so drastic he would have only imagined it in a nightmare.

The conclusion settled in his chest like a blade.

I think I killed them.

I killed the three Shurals.

Just then, the head healer stepped aside.

The old woman moved forward once more. Her expression was serious. Unyielding.

“Based on all the clues and the state of the victims,” she said, “it has been confirmed that they were killed by a demon.”

A suffocating silence fell over the gathering.

A demon.

How could a demon kill a Shural inside the Bulwark.

It shattered every line of logic they knew.

The old woman, known to all as the Oracle, continued.

“That is not all,” she said calmly. “I confirm to every one of you that the demon is still within the Bulwark.”

Her gaze swept across the crowd.

“And more importantly, that demon is in this very gathering.”

A ripple of shock surged through the hall.

“We will fetch it out. Right here. Right now.”

Gazel felt his heart sink hard against his chest.

Three words echoed violently in his mind.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

He was in danger.

Real danger.

To be continued.

Author’s Note

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