Chapter 503: Sleep In Peace II

The forest answered his call. He’d woken up and now, it would keep him awake.

They came crashing through the trees in waves, dark shapes tearing through foliage, snapping branches, uprooting roots as if the land itself were too fragile to stop them.

Damien stood at the center of the clearing, the corpse of the scaled beast still half-devoured behind him, Luton pulsing beside it like a living shadow.

These weren’t mana beasts.

Not anymore.

Their forms were wrong.

Some resembled wolves, but their limbs were elongated and bent at unnatural angles, joints popping audibly as they moved. Others crawled low to the ground like oversized lizards, yet their hides bled black essence that smoked faintly when it touched the air. Horns, claws, jagged teeth—every demon looked as though it had been hastily stitched together by malice itself.

Their eyes locked onto Damien. Hunger, recognition, and something else.

Hatred.

“So you’re the backup,” Damien said calmly, rolling his shoulders. “Took you long enough.”

The first demon leapt.

It moved fast—faster than most Grade Four beasts—closing the distance in a blur of blackened muscle. Its claws slashed toward Damien’s throat.

He sidestepped.

The claws tore through empty air, but Damien was already inside its guard. His fist drove upward into the demon’s jaw.

CRACK!

Bone shattered. The demon’s head snapped back unnaturally before its body even realized it was dead.

Luton surged forward, engulfing the corpse in an instant, the demon vanishing into the slime with a wet, muffled sound.

Damien was already moving.

Two more demons lunged from opposite sides. One was airborne, wings tattered and leaking black mist; the other low, skidding across the ground with blades of bone protruding from its forearms.

Damien ducked under the airborne one, seized its ankle mid-flight, and slammed it headfirst into the earth.

Booom!

The ground cratered.

Before the grounded demon could recover, Damien stepped on its spine and twisted.

Kraaa!

A sickening snap echoed through the clearing.

Luton devoured both bodies before their essence could even dissipate.

The rest of the horde howled.

They rushed him all at once.

This time though, Damien didn’t retreat. He charged.

The forest exploded into chaos.

Damien weaved through claws and teeth, his movements sharp and economical. Each strike was deliberate. He went for lethal parts like neck, joint, and skull. He didn’t waste energy on flourish. He didn’t give the demons time to adapt.

A demon swung its barbed tail toward his midsection.

Damien caught it.

The barbs ripped into his palm, drawing blood—but he didn’t flinch. He yanked hard, pulling the demon off balance, then drove his knee into its chest with enough force to cave it inward.

Another demon tried to bite his shoulder.

He headbutted it.

The impact crushed its snout, spraying black blood across the ground.

Luton followed him like a living tide, absorbing corpses, severed limbs, even demons that weren’t fully dead yet. Some struggled inside the slime, thrashing wildly, only to dissolve moments later as their essence was consumed.

The ground became slick with demonic ichor.

Trees fell and roots were torn from the earth.

At some point, Damien stopped counting.

Ten.

Twenty.

Thirty.

They kept coming.

A larger demon pushed through the horde—a hulking brute with four arms and a torso plated in thick demonic armor. Its presence alone crushed the weaker demons around it, forcing them aside.

Kreeeiii!

It roared and charged.

Damien met it head-on. Their fists collided.

Bang!!

The shockwave blasted outward, flattening everything within several meters. The brute staggered back a step—just one—but its eyes widened in surprise.

Damien didn’t give it time to recover.

He stepped in, fists blurring, each punch landing with concussive force. The demon tried to counter, swinging two arms at once, but Damien ducked and slid between them, driving his elbow into its ribs.

Cracks spread across its armored torso.

The brute roared again and slammed all four fists into the ground.

The earth buckled.

Damien leapt back as jagged spikes of corrupted stone erupted from beneath him. One grazed his leg, tearing through fabric and skin.

He hissed softly.

“…That’s new.”

The brute charged again.

This time, Damien sidestepped and grabbed one of its arms, twisting violently. The limb tore free with a wet rip.

The demon screamed.

Luton surged forward, devouring the severed arm midair.

Damien used the opening to drive his fist straight through the demon’s chest.

The brute froze.

Black blood poured down Damien’s arm as he ripped his hand free.

The body collapsed.

Luton swallowed it whole.

Damien exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling as he surveyed the clearing.

It was devastation.

The forest floor was unrecognizable—flattened, cratered, stained black. The air was thick with the stench of demonic blood and ozone from clashing essence.

But the sounds hadn’t stopped.

More were coming.

From deeper within the forest and from multiple directions.

Damien cracked his neck once.

“Good,” he muttered. “I was hoping you’d bring friends.”

Another wave burst through the trees—leaner, faster demons this time, moving in coordinated patterns rather than a mindless rush.

Smarter.

Damien’s eyes sharpened.

He shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity.

Luton pulsed beside him, larger now than before, its surface rippling with stored essence.

The demons attacked.

Damien moved.

The night swallowed the clearing once more as claws, fists, and shadows collided—man and monster locked in a brutal dance that showed no sign of slowing.

The forest screamed.

That was the only way to describe it. The sound of trees splitting, earth tearing apart, and demons howling as they poured into the clearing from every direction. The night itself seemed alive, writhing with shadows that moved too fast and too wrong to be natural.

Damien stood at the center of it all, shoulders squared, breath steady.

He hadn’t moved from his spot.

He didn’t need to.

Another demon lunged, this one lean and whip-fast, its limbs bladed and serrated, its head split down the middle by a vertical maw lined with needle teeth. It went straight for Damien’s throat.

He stepped forward instead of back.

His palm slammed into the demon’s face mid-lunge.

The creature’s skull collapsed inward as if made of wet clay, its body flipping end over end before hitting the ground lifeless. Luton surged forward and absorbed it instantly, the slime’s surface rippling as fresh demonic essence was swallowed whole.

Damien barely noticed.

Two more demons attacked from behind, timing their strike together. One wrapped elongated arms around his torso while the other raised its claws, aiming for his neck.

Damien flexed.

Mana exploded outward from his core in a violent pulse.

The demon restraining him was blown apart at the seams, its arms snapping and flying off in opposite directions. The second demon was flung backward like a ragdoll, smashing through a tree hard enough to snap it in half.

Before it could rise, Damien was already there.

He grabbed the demon by the face and drove its head into the ground.

Once.

Twice.

The third impact liquefied whatever passed for its brain.

Luton devoured it mid-motion.

The demons hesitated.

Just for a heartbeat.

That hesitation got them killed.

Damien moved like a force of nature. He was unrelenting, precise, and merciless. He wove through attacks that would have torn lesser fighters apart, slipping past claws by millimeters, ducking fangs, stepping into strikes rather than away from them.

A demon spewed corrosive black mist toward him.

Damien inhaled sharply, then exhaled.

His essence flared outward in a thin, shimmering barrier. The mist struck it and hissed violently, dispersing into useless vapor before it could touch him.

The demon shrieked in disbelief.

Damien answered by driving his heel through its knee.

As it collapsed, he crushed its skull underfoot.

Luton absorbed it, growing visibly larger now, its body swelling before compressing again, denser, heavier with stolen power.

Another wave came.

These were bigger.

Heavier.

Their presence pressed down on the clearing, demonic essence thick enough to make the air feel viscous. Horned brutes, twisted quadrupeds, towering humanoid shapes with too many eyes and not enough restraint.

Grade Four.

Several of them.

Damien’s lips curled slightly.

“Good,” he muttered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The first brute charged, swinging a massive arm wreathed in black flame.

Damien caught the arm.

The impact sent cracks racing through the ground beneath his feet, but he held firm, muscles locking as mana surged through his body. He twisted sharply, tearing the arm from its socket, then hurled it straight into the head of another charging demon.

Both went down.

A quadruped leapt, jaws wide enough to swallow Damien whole.

He jumped into it.

His fist punched straight through the roof of its mouth, ripping out the back of its skull as he landed on the other side. The corpse collapsed behind him.

Luton flowed over it.

The ground shook as multiple demons attacked together, coordinating now—one distracting, another striking from the blind spot, a third preparing a charged attack from afar.

Damien noticed all of it.

He always did.

He sidestepped the first, shattered the second’s spine with a spinning elbow, then hurled a chunk of broken stone at the third with such force it pierced straight through its chest.

The demon stared down at the hole in disbelief before collapsing.

Luton devoured all three in rapid succession.

The forest floor was no longer visible.

It was a battlefield of craters, shattered trunks, and blackened earth soaked in demonic blood. The stench was overwhelming, thick enough to taste.

Damien’s clothes were torn, his skin marked with shallow cuts and burns—but none of it slowed him.

If anything, he looked more focused now.

More alive.

A shrill howl echoed from deeper within the forest.

Damien’s head snapped toward it.

More were coming.

Stronger ones.

He cracked his knuckles slowly, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted his stance.

“Still not enough,” he said quietly.

The next group burst into the clearing with terrifying speed—lean, predatory demons whose movements were too smooth, too controlled. Their eyes glowed with intelligence, not mindless hunger.

They didn’t rush.

They circled.

Damien felt it immediately.

These weren’t fodder.

They attacked together.

One feinted high, another low, a third darting in from behind. Damien blocked the first strike, took the second on his forearm with a grunt, and twisted to avoid the third by a hair’s breadth.

Claws grazed his side.

Blood flowed.

Damien smiled.

“There you are.”

He stepped forward, ignoring the pain, and slammed his forehead into the nearest demon’s face. Bone cracked. He grabbed the stunned creature and used it as a shield as the others attacked, their strikes tearing into their own ally.

He threw the corpse aside and charged.

The fight turned savage.

No pauses.

No mercy.

Damien was hit more often now—but every hit he took, he returned twice as hard. His punches carried more weight, his kicks faster, his movements sharper as his body adapted in real time.

One demon tried to retreat.

Luton shot forward like a living net, engulfing it before it could escape.

Another screamed as Luton wrapped around its legs, holding it in place long enough for Damien to crush its skull.

The night stretched on, filled with endless violence.

And still, the demons kept coming.

Damien stood amid the carnage, breathing steadily, eyes glowing faintly with mana as he faced yet another approaching wave.

His fists tightened.

“Come,” he said softly.

The forest answered.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep