I lunged forward.
The distance between us shrank with every heartbeat—grass crunched and tore under my feet, women screamed somewhere nearby, metal rang against metal, and the air was already thick with the nauseating stench of fresh blood and sulfur.
The demon watched me calmly.
Even with mild, almost bored interest—like someone watching an insect about to be crushed.
I was almost upon him.
But he zily took a step back.
No.
Not a step.
He glided.
With one smooth, unnatural motion he was three meters away, as though space itself bent for him at will.
I skidded to a halt, breath ragged.
“Boring…” he drawled.
His lips stretched into a zy smile.
“We need to add a little fun.”
Snap.
He snapped his fingers—the sound was soft, but the air shivered with it.
And the world around us exploded with screams.
The women suddenly cried out.
Not the mindless snarling from moments before.
Human voices.
Living.
Desperate.
“Help!”
“Please! Don’t kill me!”
“I have children! I have children at home!”
One of them dropped to her knees right in front of a soldier.
Her hands trembled.
She wept—real tears, hot and salty.
“Please… no…”
But her body kept moving against her will.
The knife in her hand fshed upward and plunged into the soldier’s ribs—with a wet crunch, with a sucking sound.
He gurgled, blood pouring from his mouth.
The woman screamed even louder—raw, animalistic.
“NO! NO! I DON’T WANT TO!”
But her hands struck again.
Tore.
Sshed.
The battlefield turned into a nightmare.
Women wept.
Begged.
Screamed in terror.
And at the same time tried to kill—fingers cwing into eyes, teeth sinking into throats, knives plunging into stomachs.
The soldiers froze for a second.
That second was enough.
One woman leaped onto a fighter’s back and dug her fingers into his eyes—nails sinking deep, blood streaming down his cheeks.
He screamed—a high, childish wail.
Another tackled a spearman and tore into his face—teeth ripping cheeks, lips, nose.
Lohan cleaved the third one in half.
Her head rolled across the grass.
And her lips still whispered:
“Forgive me… forgive me…”
Crunch.
Another.
I didn’t even know who killed her.
Maybe me.
Maybe Corin.
Maybe one of the new recruits who had already forgotten his own name.
Everything blended together.
Screams.
Blood.
Tears.
“DON’T KILL ME!”
Crunch.
The sword fell again.
I didn’t even look at her face.
If I had looked…
I would have stopped.
But stopping was impossible.
Because if I stopped—
they would kill everyone.
They were innocent.
But I could do nothing.
Darkness slowly filled my head—thick, sticky, sweet.
Images fshed before my eyes.
Mother—an arrow through her chest, blood on Father’s hands.
Father—falling face-first into the mud, coughing bright crimson, then still.
The burning vilge.
Faces of comrades.
Those we buried over these five years.
Those the demons tore apart—slowly, with relish.
I clenched my teeth until blood trickled from my gums.
And kept walking.
Toward him.
Toward the demon.
“How quick…” he smirked.
He watched me like a caged animal—with light, almost tender curiosity.
“Pahahaha…”
He stepped forward.
No.
Again that strange gliding motion—reality bending beneath him.
I didn’t even see the strike.
Only the sound.
BAM.
My sword flew from my hands—torn away by invisible force.
I didn’t understand how.
Second strike.
The bde snapped in half.
Metal gave a pitiful crunch—like breaking bone.
The shard fell into the grass.
My sword.
The very one.
That had followed me through five years of war.
With which I had killed hundreds of demons.
Now y broken—like a symbol that I was still too weak.
“GYAAAAA!”
I roared and charged forward.
Without a weapon.
Without a pn.
Just forward.
A woman leaped at me from the side.
I grabbed her head.
Crunch.
Her neck snapped—dry crack like a broken branch.
Another cwed at my arm—nails sinking into flesh down to bone.
I drove my knee into her face—crunch of nose, blood spraying.
She fell.
Crunch.
I broke them like dolls.
Trying not to hear their howls.
Trying not to look into their eyes.
Another one.
Crunch.
Another.
Crunch.
I reached the demon again.
But my strength was almost gone.
I seized him by the throat.
He didn’t even resist.
Just watched me.
From above.
With a faint smile.
“Understand, human…” he said calmly.
His voice was soft.
As though speaking to a child.
“You are weak.”
He leaned closer.
I smelled his blood.
Strangely sweet—like honey mixed with rot.
“And I…”
He smirked.
“…am the son of the head of the incubus cn.”
He kept talking.
Mocking.
My hands trembled.
I tried to crush his throat.
But it was like holding a stone statue.
My fingers slid upward.
And suddenly lunged forward.
Into his eye sockets.
“GYAAAAA!”
The demon screamed.
For the first time.
His body jerked—sharp, convulsive.
He grabbed my hands.
Tried to pull them away.
But I pressed.
Pressed with all my strength.
But it wasn’t enough.
I couldn’t push deeper.
Women threw themselves at me.
Cws sank into my back—tearing skin, flesh, muscle.
They dragged me backward.
By the arms.
By the hair.
“No!” I roared.
“YOU WILL DIE!”
I sank my teeth into his neck.
And suddenly…
I bit through.
The skin was soft.
Warm.
And sweet.
Sweet like honey.
I tore his flesh.
Swallowed blood.
Chewed meat.
It was…
The most delicious meat in the world.
The demon shrieked.
Screamed.
Thrashed.
But I didn’t care.
Everything before my eyes turned red.
My body filled with power.
Bones burned—as though bck fire bzed inside.
Muscles swelled with heavy, dark strength.
I felt…
Hunger.
Power.
And something else.
Something ancient.
Something that had waited inside for a long time.
And now it was waking.
I tore away from his neck—mouth full of blood, chin dripping bck ichor.
The demon stared at me with wide eyes.
For the first time there was fear in them.
Real.
Human.
I smiled—slowly, calmly.
And whispered:
“Now it’s my turn.”
And struck again.
No longer with a fist.
No longer with a sword.
Just with my hand.
Straight into his heart.
And felt it beating under my fingers.
Still.
Still.
And then—stopping.
The darkness inside me ughed.
Quietly.
Joyfully.
And I understood.
This was only the beginning.с