Chapter 42: Devoured

On the Western flank of the battlefield, Nathaniel the battle god was tearing through the line of monsters and demons with brutal efficiency.

Apeiron spun within his grasp, the towering glaive cleaved flesh and drew blood.

It had been a little over a week since they started repelling the demon realm forces.

Their plan was simple, Veyre the priestess of the sun had explained to them that the demon generals would be present on the ninth day and without proper planning the humans were going to lose the war.

So they spread their forces out with each of the hero’s cohorts taking a flank to defend.

They had not really intervened the previous days, no, they had to save their strength for the right battle and the right opponent.

So they bid their time, only appearing briefly when things went south or their soldiers struggled in defending the territory.

Nathaniel used the blade of his glaive to sever the head of a retreating kobold.

His gaze swept the battlefield littered with monster corpses, crimson stained the earth while limbs scattered like broken offerings.

He stabbed Apeiron to the ground then leaned against it, watching and waiting for his prey to arrive.

Apeiron’s voice sounded within Nathaniel’s mind, its tone smooth yet urgent.

“Augusta, I sense a disturbance in the plane above our reality, something’s coming, something we can’t handle.”

Nathaniel clicked his tongue in annoyance then replied.

“I’ve told you not to call me that and besides that redhead and the priestess must already have a plan.”

The glaive hummed slightly.

“You mean Loki’s chosen? While I admit he’s rather intelligent, a rare find amongst his delusional peers, aren’t you a little too trustful of that Chaos bringer?”

Nathaniel shrugged.

“Well he is smart like you said, without him we probably would have died a few times over, If he or the princess can’t think of anything… then what’s left to argue? It’s a war, it’s either to kill, or be killed and I… live to fight.”

Crunch!

A wet sound followed by the sickening crack of a skull blared in front of Nathaniel.

Nathaniel’s gaze slowly dragged across the newcomer with lazy interest.

It was a demon with pale blue skin, a makeshift gauntlet made out of crude fabrics covered its hands while a tail protruded from the back of his hakama.

Two horns protruded from a curtain of dark hair covering its eyes and nose, only his lips were visible and they were curved into a satisfied grin.

“Are you strong?” It asked.

Nathaniel froze, stared at it for a few seconds then laughed.

“That’s my line.”

The glaive glowed crimson, then it transformed into a chained sickle.

“Don’t disappoint me.” Nathaniel said.

The demon tilted its head slightly, its grin deepened to a creepy degree.

“Funny human.”

“I prefer battle starved.” Nathaniel retorted with a smile.

And then they moved.

Their fight wasn’t flashy compared to Elias and Kyle’s.

No, unlike them, Nathaniel and the demon’s battle were a brutish display of raw strength.

Nathaniel’s sickle crashed down with thundering force but the demon caught it barehanded.

Seeing the demon block his strike, Nathaniel smiled darkly, chains snapped tight, then his attacks grew faster, heavier and relentless.

The demon responded in kind.

Both of them exploded into a whirlwind of steel and flesh, the cadence of their battle was deafening.

Every hit, every impact, jarring.

The earth below bore the brunt of their battle.

The air reeked of burnt flesh and steel.

The soldiers on the other hand had long retreated far away from the battlefield.

It wasn’t a fight they could take part in anymore.

Even lesser monsters which tried to intervene were turned to paste from the compressed pressure around them.

The demon squealed with joy, its fist heading straight for Nathaniel’s torso.

Nathaniel didn’t linger, Apeiron turned into a round shield, absorbing the impact of the attack which sent Nathaniel skidding back a few steps.

Nathaniel exhaled softly, rolling out taut muscles beneath his robe.

Yes, robe.

Unlike the others, Nathaniel wasn’t wearing any armor, instead he was draped in a gray robe which looked like he’d just casually stepped out of a martial arts class.

Apeiron shifted once again, taking on the form of a katana.

The demon didn’t wait for Nathaniel, it moved forward, arms outstretched into a devastating punch.

Nathaniel sidestepped with ease then flicked his wrist, the katana tore through flesh beneath the demon’s triceps.

It hissed then went for an elbow strike but Nathaniel was faster.

He ducked under the demon’s attack then used the pommel of his blade to slam into its ribs.

The demon let out a frustrated grunt while Nathaniel stared at his blade like he was experiencing a groundbreaking discovery.

“So that’s how it is.” He mused, ” The areas without those strange bandages are vulnerable to attacks, hmm interesting.”

The demon winced.

It spared a glance at its bruised ribs then back to Nathaniel.

“You fight without honor, human.”

Nathaniel exhaled visibly.

“Cry me a river.” He taunted then propelled himself forward.

The demon did the same but their collision never came because at that moment, the air stilled and a rift tore out from reality itself.

It warped and trembled, then collapsed onto itself before exploding outward with a dangerous force.

A cry tore out from somewhere within the peak of a huge mountain.

Veyre clutched her bleeding eyes with agonizing wails while Azazel, the one who actually owned the body, was standing right beside her, protecting the fragile princess frame with a part of his colossal summon, his familiar.

The world snake, Ouroborus.

The battlefield held its breath.

Everything felt wrong, even the earth groaned in response, like it was being invaded by an entity it couldn’t handle.

Nathaniel and the demon stopped in their tracks, eyes wide while their bodies struggled to remain standing.

Elias was on his knees besides Kyle’s body, clearly injured and weakened, his body shook with visible effort.

Tyrisa had released her domain but the armor remained, although the aloof princess struggled painfully, she remained standing

Leona on the other hand was using her chaos attribute to ease the effects but it was looking a bit too unbearable for her.

Beads of sweat rolled down her face in waves while her eyes blinked rapidly as though she was trying to suppress something.

A pale leg stepped through the rift, then the robe followed.

A black robe with embroidered patterns which no human or mortal could ever hope to replicate.

It was beautiful enough to put artisans to shame.

Wings came out next, not one pair but three.

The figure had six wings in total, each one a deep gray which leaned towards the black palette.

As he stepped out from the rift, Azazel felt an agonizing headache split his mind.

His hands reached out to grab his head but then they paused because on his right hand, shadowy wisps of black engulfed it, pulsing with strange markings of violet hue.

Azazel almost fell into panic but then he heard a voice.

A laugh

Not just any, but a dark sinister one which sounded from the depths of his mind.

Akathartos spoke.

“The bonding process has begun, surrender yourself mortal, resistance is futile. Just let me devour you.”

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