Chapter 467: Traveling And Hunting II

The next morning broke with a cold, bleak wind rolling across the plains. Damien stood on a ridge of gray stone, Skylar perched beside him like a silent sentinel while Luton rested lazily on his shoulder.

The summon , Luton, barely cost much magic essence to remain here and so he didn’t mind keeping it with him most of the time.

The sky was pale, washed-out, with streaks of faint gold that promised a long day ahead. It was also tinged scarlet to an extent, warning if the impending war but they all knew there was still some time till the full scale war between humans and demons would begin.

As for Damien, he welcomed the war. And most of all, he welcome this new day. A long day meant a long path to power. And that was the path he was currently on.

“Let’s go,” Damien murmured.

Skylar launched into the sky with a deep, echoing screech that rippled through the valley. Damien followed at a light run, boots crunching against frost-tipped grass. Today, he was going to run rather than fly stop Skylar as he had done the previous day.

The world around him shifted slowly as he traveled. Forests thinned. Hills rose and fell like the spine of a sleeping giant. The air grew colder, carrying a faint metallic scent—one he recognized instantly.

Blood.

And more than that… demonic essence.

Skylar landed in front of him, wings folding, body low as it hissed toward the western slope.

“You sensed it too,” Damien said.

Luton quivered eagerly. The summon’s body seemed to boil with excitement as it prepared to devour.

The group of three continued to advance.

It didn’t take long to find the source.

A clearing opened between two sharp ridges, littered with uprooted trees and gouged earth. A battle had taken place here—violent, recent, chaotic. Blood was splattered across boulders. The corpses of mana beasts lay in piles. The ground was scorched black in places.

But amidst the carnage lay something else.

A demon’s corpse—larger than most normal variants. Its arms were armored in jagged bone, its spine protruding outward like a row of sharpened stakes. Its eyes had melted into its skull, leaving dark sockets that still smoldered faintly.

Damien crouched beside it and touched the cooled ichor.

“Hm.”

The demon twitched.

Not alive—just a lingering reflex caused by unstable essence still circulating through its flesh.

Damien stepped back.

“Luton.”

The slime launched forward without hesitation.

CHRKK!

The demon was devoured in seconds, its essence pulsing briefly through Luton’s form before settling like something that never existed.

Skylar nudged Damien once, drawing his attention toward the ridge.

Another scent.

He nodded. “More?”

Skylar gave a low rumble.

“Good.” They processed towards the ridge with Skylar also deciding not to fly.

The ridge opened into a narrow canyon where sunlight struggled to reach the ground. Shadows twisted strangely here, and the air felt heavier—like the world itself was waiting to breathe again.

Damien felt it instantly.

Pressure.

Not enough to threaten him, but enough to signal danger ahead.

“Stay close,” he whispered.

Skylar’s body tensed while Luton bubbled quietly.

The deeper they moved into the canyon, the stronger the scent became—demonic, yes, but mixed with something else. Something earthy. Wild. Familiar.

Mana beasts.

A lot of them.

When Damien reached the end of the canyon, the terrain widened abruptly into a hollow basin surrounded by towering cliffs. And there, spread across the basin floor, dozens of beasts clashed with a swarm of demons.

Normal demons—thin, ash-skinned, armed with bone blades and dark flame.

But also several new variants—leaner, faster, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles as if they had been reshaped by some external force.

Some variants flickered with unstable mana. Others shifted forms rapidly, sprouting claws, then losing them, then growing bone armor in jagged bursts. Their bodies weren’t complete.

’Still works in progress, huh?’

Damien’s eyes narrowed.

“So the group that created Ivaan or rather, the one he worked for… their experiments are spreading far and fast.”

He didn’t wait any longer.

He leapt down into the basin.

Skylar swooped low, diving into the mass of demons with a shadow-wreathed roar. Luton flung itself off Damien’s shoulder and rolled eagerly into the carnage, devouring anything its surface touched.

Damien landed between two wolves locked in combat with a demon. The beasts skittered away from him instinctively.

The demon didn’t. This worked even better for him since he was here for them anyways.

Damien’s fist pierced its chest like a hammer through wet clay. The corpse collapsed before it even registered its death.

Another variant screeched and lunged. Damien grabbed it by the skull mid-charge and slammed it into the earth, the impact shattering its spine cleanly.

Skylar crushed three demons at once with a sweep of its tail. Shadow flame ignited across its wings as it mauled a fourth.

Luton devoured six more without slowing and slowly, the basin became a slaughterhouse.

And for Damien, it was simply another training ground.

He moved through the chaos like a reaper—calm, precise, efficient. Every strike was purposeful, aimed to kill instantly. He didn’t draw a blade or use any flashy techniques. He didn’t need them.

Strength was enough.

Thirty minutes passed before the final demon fell. Its head hit the ground and rolled to Damien’s feet. He nudged it aside and surveyed the aftermath.

Skylar stood proudly among the torn corpses, shadows flickering along its scales. Luton was swollen to nearly twice its size, humming contentedly.

The mana beasts of the basin had all fled. Nothing bad with that besides the fact that Luton had missed out on some opportunities to grow stronger.

This land needed to heal. His job wasn’t to wipe out beasts—it was to wipe out everything that didn’t belong. Demons!

He spent a few minutes ensuring no demonic residue lingered in the basin before continuing on.

The terrain shifted again.

The basin gave way to a stretch of wide, windswept plains that rolled out for miles. The grass was tall, almost to Damien’s waist in some areas, swaying in green waves beneath the afternoon wind.

It was calm.

Too calm.

Skylar’s wings rustled uneasily.

“What is it?” Damien asked.

The wyvern growled softly and turned its head northward.

Damien followed its gaze.

A faint shimmer—like a mirage—hovered above the grasslands. He approached cautiously, senses sharpened.

When he reached the shimmer, he realized what he was looking at.

A nesting ground.

Mana beasts—dozens of them—had created a circular field of flattened grass. But something had disturbed the area recently. Tracks. Broken stalks. The scent of blood.

And demonic essence—faint but unmistakable.

Not fresh.

But not old either.

Damien crouched, touching the earth.

“Someone fought here,” he murmured. “Recently.”

Skylar sniffed the ground and rumbled low.

“Demons passed through,” Damien said. “We’re on the right trail.”

He stood again and continued toward the east.

By late afternoon, the plains shifted into a forest of towering red trees—their bark thick and rough, their branches high above the ground. The forest was calm and smelled faintly of sap.

Until Damien reached its center.

There, among the roots, a cluster of mana beasts lay dead—drained completely. Their bodies were collapsed husks, as though something had sucked out every drop of mana and life.

Luton stiffened.

Skylar hissed.

Damien’s expression hardened.

“I don’t think it’s natural,” he said. “One of the new variants?”

He examined the corpses.

No burn marks. No claw wounds. No bite marks.

Just hollow.

Empty.

Something had fed on their essence directly.

And that meant…

“Another demon variant,” Damien muttered. Maybe a parasite-type?”

Skylar growled and scanned the treetops.

Damien stood slowly, brushing bark off his coat.

“It’s gone. But not far.”

He tilted his head slightly, listening to the forest.

“But I don’t have time to chase it.”

He exhaled deeply, letting the tension flow out.

His goal wasn’t to hunt every single demon. It was to grow stronger. Efficiently. Effectively. Without losing time.

As the sun sank lower, Damien finally reached the end of the red-wooded forest. The trees parted behind him, and the air opened wide into another stretch of plains.

But this time, it wasn’t empty.

Damien stopped walking.

Skylar froze.

Luton went still.

Far on the horizon—so faint at first Damien almost mistook it for a distant storm—rose a vast structure. Walls. Towers. Banners fluttering in the fading light.

A kingdom.

But not a small one.

A colossal one spread across the landscape like a sleeping titan. Walls so tall they cast shadows even from this distance.

Watchtowers stretching skyward like spears. Roads leading toward the gates—broad, paved, unmistakably belonging to a powerful, ancient nation.

Damien felt something shift in his chest.

Finally.

A place to gather information.

A place to acquire maps.

A place where rumors of demons would spill freely from fearful mouths.

A place that could point him toward the next path.

The wind brushed past him, carrying scents of civilization—smoke, forged metal, food, and the faint hum of mana that came from a large population clustered together.

Damien exhaled.

“We found it.”

Skylar rumbled approvingly.

Luton bubbled in agreement.

Damien took one step forward.

Then another.

And his journey toward the kingdom, toward the next stage of his growth plan, began.

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