Duskfall Fortress, the demon Emperor’s palace, was guarded like an iron barrel.
Multiple layers of fortifications ringed the outer walls. The blood-crystal watchtower at the center monitored everything within three thousand meters; any anomaly would trigger alarms and summon the most elite blood guards.
Three thousand meters outside that detection range, in the cellar of an unassuming residence.
The old demon Latir roughly dragged several bound demons to the ritual nodes, then jerked his head at Tanaka, signaling he could come up.
On the cellar table, an hourglass trickled steadily; the timer the foxkin Kiro had set for them.
Only Tanaka’s Sloth clone stood here. Kiro himself had arranged everything and never even showed up.
Feeling the hair-raising aura seeping from the ritual beneath his feet, Tanaka asked uneasily, “Abyssal magic… will this really work?”
Latir sat outside the circle, glanced at the hourglass (still a little time left), and answered, “Whether it works or not, ask that sly fox.”
“By the way,” Tanaka hesitated, “I never asked. Why are you helping Kiro? Or rather, why do you trust him?”
Latir suddenly let out a rasping laugh that echoed harshly in the cellar. “I’ve only met the guy twice. What trust?”
“Twice? Then why—”
“He showed me what he can do.” The old demon’s smile vanished, eyes flashing with resolve. “I’m just placing a bet.”
“And if he tricked you…”
Latir shrugged carelessly. “Then I only lose this rotten life. At least it’ll cause that traitor some trouble.”
His gaze returned to the hourglass. He slowly stood. “Time’s almost up. Let’s do it.”
“Wait, one last thing,” Tanaka pointed at another abyssal array in the cellar. “What’s that one for?”
Latir grinned, showing teeth. “That one’s for me.”
The runes beneath Tanaka’s feet flared black. Amid the brief screams of the sacrifices, his figure blinked out of the cellar.
Almost simultaneously, several blood guards rushed toward the residence.
…
The scene shifted. Tanaka shook his dizzy head and found himself in a sealed chamber covered in magical runes.
There were no lights, but every inch of wall, floor, and ceiling was etched with faintly glowing runes that provided dim illumination.
Tanaka felt no threat or restraint. As Kiro had said, the runes’ effects were limited to outside the room.
His eyes were immediately drawn to the object on the central pedestal.
A flawless white cube, perfectly smooth, without a single mark. It stood in stark contrast to the dense runes around it; impossible to miss.
“This is the Demon King’s seal?”
Tanaka took a step forward; then his left foot was yanked.
He looked down to find his left sole had fused with the floor.
“What kind of buggy game level is this…” Gritting his teeth, he pulled hard, but his foot didn’t budge; it was as if it had always been part of the ground.
Tanaka clenched his jaw, drew his dagger, and slashed.
Blood gushed from the severed ankle, staining the rune floor dark.
“Damn white-furred fox… this is your idea of perfect preparation?”
Enduring the agony, he hopped on one foot toward the white cube.
But one step away, an invisible wall stopped him.
He pressed against the air wall, face visibly souring. “Didn’t you say there was no barrier inside?”
【Hero, restrictions lifted】
Before Tanaka could react, the resistance vanished. He slapped a hand onto the white cube.
The cube hit the ground. Its shell cracked like an eggshell, pieces flaking away. A pale-blue gelatinous liquid studded with faint points of light slowly flowed out, shimmering like stars in the dim room.
“I… came out first?”
Tanaka stared blankly at the wriggling mass. “A slime?”
“How rude, young man. It’s a Fluxite.” The jelly seemed to realize something. “This room… interesting.”
It floated into the air. Tanaka felt the surrounding mana shift direction. The complex runes on the floor went dark one after another.
This jelly had silently dismantled every seal in the room without triggering any alarm.
Tanaka hastily checked its panel and caught only the most critical details.
【Skill: Pinnacle of Magical Guidance…】
【Titles:
Demon King: Not restricted by racial level limits, may randomly draw one special title or skill (already used)
…】
When the last rune dimmed, the jelly landed lightly. “You have a way to leave on your own, right? In my current state, I can’t take you with me.”
Tanaka nodded reflexively.
Confirmed, the Fluxite’s surrounding mana flashed; it vanished from the room.
The mana ripple from that final teleport finally triggered Duskfall Fortress’s alarm system.
Piercing sirens instantly rang throughout the fortress. Tanaka wasted no time and dispelled his clone.
His body dissolved like morning mist, merging completely into the air, leaving no trace.
When the blood guards burst in, they found only an empty pedestal and a room full of dead runes.
They immediately locked down the entire city and began a carpet search.
In the end, they found only traces of abyssal magic in a collapsed cellar and a missing old demon. Nothing more.
Meanwhile, hundreds of li away in a carriage:
“OW OW OW OW! MY FOOT!”
…
Outside Threehill City, the blood canopy roared and surged.
Mortis sat upon his blood throne. With a lift of his hand, endless waves of blood condensed into countless crimson crystal spears, each brimming with terrifying power.
The spears fell like rain, turning the battlefield into a forest of red lances.
Sharp whistles split the air. The ground shuddered under the dense bombardment.
The lycanthropized Airaven, now three meters tall, darted through the spear forest. His silver-gray fur was dyed dark red by the bloodlight. Every claw gleamed coldly.
At this moment, his claws were the sharpest swords!
The five deep gashes across the Prince’s chest were healing slowly; only because he had reacted fast enough.
The instant the Sword Saint shattered the crystal, he had been the first to charge; and nearly been torn apart for his trouble.
Airaven was extremely cautious now. Apart from [Sword Extremity], he used no techniques.
Even though Mortis wasn’t currently using [Envy] on him, he remembered the fatal moment [Moon Step] had been forcibly interrupted.
The only thing he trusted now was [Sword Extremity]!
He didn’t charge straight at Mortis. Instead he constantly dodged and destroyed the blood spears, searching for the slightest opening.
But the result disappointed him.
With the divine artifact [Blood Calamity], Mortis was completely shrouded in the blood canopy. No gap appeared.
Seemingly tired of the chase, the Emperor pointed lightly.
A heaven-piercing blood pillar descended again, joined by the dense rain of spears. The tempo of battle abruptly accelerated.
At that moment.
A ring on Mortis’s right hand suddenly shattered, its magical glow scattering like stardust.
“The sealing chamber!”
That split-second distraction caused a tiny flaw in the perfect blood canopy.
It was enough!
Airaven became a silver bolt of lightning. His claws rent space itself, aiming straight for the Emperor’s throat.
Almost simultaneously, countless blood-crystal spears condensed above Mortis and shot downward.
When the two figures crossed, three claw marks appeared on the Emperor’s neck, dark-red blood slowly seeping out.
And the Sword Saint, impaled by countless blood spears, fell powerlessly from the sky.
(End of Chapter)
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