The forest had gone quiet again but it was not in any way peaceful. Not in the slightest.

This was the silence that came after prolonged slaughter, when even the predators chose to stay still and listen. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and burnt mana.

Broken trunks lay strewn across the clearing like fallen spears, and the ground had been churned into a mess of craters and blackened soil.

Damien stood at its center, chest rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm.

Two hours.

That was how long he’d been fighting.

Not constantly though. There had been brief lulls but long enough that his muscles burned and his bones hummed with residual force.

Sweat ran down his back, mingling with streaks of demon blood. His knuckles were raw. His forearms bruised. His breathing steady.

Around him, Luton pulsed contentedly, its surface darker than before, dense with stolen essence. Corpses, or what little remained of them, were vanishing one by one into its body, devoured without ceremony.

Damien rolled his neck once, listening.

He frowned.

Something was wrong.

Not the absence of sound, he’d learned long ago that quiet often followed carnage, but the quality of it. The forest wasn’t holding its breath out of fear.

It was waiting.

“You’ve been busy,” a voice said.

Damien turned slowly.

The demon stood atop a broken stone outcrop at the edge of the clearing, silhouetted against the fractured canopy.

Humanoid in shape, but taller than the last intelligent one he’d fought. Its frame was lean, corded with muscle that looked almost refined rather than grotesque. Black, vein-like patterns crawled beneath gray-red skin, pulsing faintly with demonic essence.

Its eyes were wrong. Too calm and sharp.

“Over an hour,” the demon continued, tilting its head slightly. “Killing without rest. Without retreat. Without fear.”

It smiled, lips peeling back to reveal rows of flattened, carnivorous teeth. “I wondered what kind of human would cause this much noise.”

Damien didn’t respond immediately. His gaze swept over the demon. Its stance, posture, the way its weight shifted subtly as it spoke.

‘Stronger than the last one,’ he concluded. ‘And smarter.’

“Another Intelligent one sent for me?” Damien asked.

The demon chuckled softly and stepped down from the outcrop. The ground cracked under its weight, but it moved with unsettling grace. “Sent? No. Drawn.”

Its eyes flicked briefly to the scattered remains littering the clearing. “Your scent is loud. Essence burning hot. Demons died screaming for over an hour. Of course something like me would come.”

It had no idea that this was the human it had been sent to destroy.

Luton rippled faintly, sensing the threat.

Damien raised a hand, signaling it to stay back.

The demon noticed and laughed. “Are you still going to rely on that thing? Or have you finally grown confident enough to die alone?”

Damien’s lips twitched. “You talk more than the last one.”

“And yet I’m still alive,” the demon replied pleasantly. “That should tell you something.”

They moved at the same time.

The demon vanished, not leaping but sliding through the air, its body blurring as demonic essence surged. Damien barely had time to raise his forearm before claws slammed into him, sending him skidding backward through broken earth.

He twisted mid-slide, dug his heel in, and stopped just before smashing into a tree.

The demon was already there.

A knee drove into Damien’s ribs, knocking the breath from his lungs. He countered instinctively, elbow snapping upward. The demon twisted aside, but not fully—bone cracked as the strike glanced off its jaw.

It grinned wider.

“Oh,” it said, voice vibrating with excitement. “You are different.”

They collided again.

This wasn’t like the last fight.

The previous intelligent demon had been confident—arrogant even—but this one tested, probed, retreated when necessary. It struck from angles designed to bait counters, feigned openings, then punished Damien for taking them.

A claw raked across Damien’s shoulder.

A tail he hadn’t noticed it before, lashed out and caught his thigh, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

Damien adjusted, reinforcing his body with essence, his movements tightening. He landed a solid punch to the demon’s abdomen that sent it flying back through two trees.

It flipped mid-air and landed cleanly, barely staggered.

“Yes,” the demon said, rolling its shoulders. “That strength… you’re close. Very close.”

Damien didn’t answer.

He attacked.

The ground shattered beneath his feet as he closed the distance, fists blurring. The demon parried, redirected, absorbed blows that would have pulverized lesser beings. Their strikes echoed through the forest like thunder, each impact tearing more of the clearing apart.

But slowly—imperceptibly—the demon began to change tactics.

It stopped meeting Damien head-on.

Instead, it dragged the fight outward, maneuvering him toward uneven terrain, shattered stone, and broken roots. Each step Damien took became a calculation. Each missed strike punished.

Then the demon vanished again.

Damien spun… too late.

Pain exploded across his back as claws tore deep, nearly severing muscle. He stumbled forward, barely keeping his balance.

The demon was behind him now, breath hot against his ear.

“You’re tired,” it whispered. “You’ve been fighting too long.”

Damien felt it then—a subtle pressure pressing against his senses. Not raw demonic essence, but something sharper. Something focused.

A mental attack.

His vision swam for a fraction of a second.

The demon moved to capitalize.

That was its mistake.

Damien let himself fall forward, just enough to sell the stagger. The demon lunged, claws aimed for his spine and Damien twisted violently, dropping low as his elbow slammed backward with everything he had.

The blow connected squarely beneath the demon’s ribcage.

The sound was wrong.

A hollow crack, followed by a wet tearing noise.

“Arghhh!!” The demon screamed as its breath left it in a rush, its body folding around Damien’s strike. It staggered back, clutching its side, black blood spilling freely.

Damien straightened slowly, chest heaving, eyes locked onto his opponent.

“I was wondering,” he said calmly, “when you’d get careless.”

The demon snarled, fury replacing its amusement. “You baited me.”

Damien wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Like I said, you talked too much.”

The forest trembled as the demon’s essence surged violently, its wounds knitting slightly as it prepared to unleash something far worse.

Damien tightened his stance.

The forest no longer resembled a forest.

What had once been dense canopy and layered undergrowth was now a broken arena of splintered trunks, gouged earth, and drifting motes of unstable essence. The air vibrated with pressure, every breath tasting of iron and scorched mana.

Damien and the demon stood facing each other across the ruined clearing.

The demon’s earlier composure was gone.

Its chest rose and fell unevenly, black blood dripping steadily from the cracked ribs Damien had caved in. Demonic essence writhed beneath its skin, pulsing harder now, forcing regeneration at the cost of control. Veins bulged, muscles swelling unnaturally as it poured more power into its body.

“You think you’ve won something?” the demon snarled. Its voice echoed oddly, layered with something deeper—older. “I was born to hunt beings like you.”

Damien said nothing.

He rolled his shoulders once, ignoring the pain screaming from his back and ribs. His body answered him faithfully, essence flowing cleanly through muscle and bone, reinforcing what flesh alone could not withstand.

Luton hovered nearby, pulsing but restrained, awaiting command.

This was Damien’s fight.

The demon moved first.

It didn’t vanish this time. It charged head-on, essence detonating beneath its feet as it closed the distance in a heartbeat. Its fist came down like a falling boulder, demonic energy screaming around it.

Damien met it.

Their fists collided.

The shockwave ripped outward, flattening what little remained of the clearing. Trees snapped like twigs. The ground cratered beneath them, fissures racing outward in jagged lines.

Damien slid back several meters, boots carving trenches in the earth.

The demon barely moved.

It grinned.

Strength surged through the demon’s frame, its muscles ballooning grotesquely as it laughed. “Yes… that’s it! Fight me properly!”

It attacked again.

This time, Damien didn’t retreat.

He stepped in.

The demon’s claw tore toward his neck—Damien caught the wrist, twisted violently, and slammed his knee into the demon’s elbow. Bone cracked, but the demon powered through, swinging its other arm in a brutal arc.

Damien ducked under it, drove his shoulder into the demon’s chest, and lifted.

The demon slammed into the ground hard enough to leave a crater.

Before it could rise, Damien brought his heel down on its throat.

The demon caught his leg.

Its grip was crushing, demonic essence flaring as it hurled Damien sideways.

Booom!

He crashed through a stone outcrop, stone exploding around him, his vision flashing white for a moment.

He rolled to his feet just as a spear of compressed demonic energy screamed toward him.

Damien crossed his arms, essence surging outward.

The impact hurled him backward anyway, ripping through his guard and carving a deep trench in the ground behind him. Pain exploded through his arms, numbness spreading instantly.

The demon stalked forward, every step cracking the earth.

“You’re slowing,” it taunted. “Your body is reaching its limit.”

Damien spat blood onto the dirt.

“Maybe,” he said quietly.

Then he vanished.

Not with speed alone. There was intent.

He appeared inside the demon’s reach, elbow slamming into its jaw, fist driving into its sternum, knee snapping upward into its abdomen. Each strike was clean, efficient, and merciless.

The demon reeled, roaring as it retaliated with a sweeping backhand.

Damien ducked, stepped inside the arc, and grabbed the demon by the horn-like protrusions on its head.

He headbutted it.

Once.

Twice.

The third time, the demon screamed again.

They grappled, neither giving ground, muscles straining as essence burned through both of them. The ground beneath their feet gave way, sinking under the sheer pressure of their struggle.

The demon tried to bite.

Damien slammed his forehead into its face again, then twisted sharply, wrenching its neck at an unnatural angle. The demon shrieked but didn’t break. Its spine held, reinforced by demonic power.

It retaliated viciously.

A knee crushed into Damien’s ribs, something cracking audibly. Claws tore across his side, opening deep wounds. Damien staggered, blood pouring freely now.

The demon seized the opening and slammed him into a standing slab of broken stone.

“Die!” it roared.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep