Damon took a slow breath as he watched the trolls spreading across the adow.
They moved quickly, cutting off every path of escape. Within monts their group stood in the center of a ring of towering shadows.
The leader stepped forward.
He wore thick red armor, and a crude helt shaped like an iron bucket with horns welded to the sides. Sparks burst from the ground as he dragged a massive mace along the dirt before slamming its head down with a heavy thud.
"Won hand over. Mana cores, mana crystals, money hand over. Then you go. Or kill you."
His voice was rough and guttural, but his massive fra made the threat clear enough.
Damon stared at him for a mont.
Then he sighed.
"Hmmm. And here I thought I’d hear you speak fluent Common." He shook his head slowly. "My disappointnt is imasurable, and my day is ruined."
His casual tone made the goblins behind him grow uneasy. Their shields trembled slightly as they held formation.
Gabo quickly stepped forward, panic flashing across his face.
"Lord Troll," he said hurriedly, bowing his head. "We can offer wealth and mana cores. We only ask that you allow us to leave safely. The won are part of our party. I beg you, show rcy."
Damon raised an eyebrow.
He was actually impressed.
The goblin was well spoken and genuinely trying to negotiate.
I really underestimated goblins, Damon thought.
The troll leader burst into booming laughter.
The other trolls quickly joined him, their deep voices echoing across the adow as they jeered and mocked in their own tongue.
"Foolish goblins. Won will be our playthings."
"Their wealth ours."
"Think we not eat them too?"
"I want mine roasted slightly," another troll said with a grin. "Fresh blood makes it taste better."
"Actually that’s called dium rare," a calm voice replied in perfect trollish. "Personally I prefer mine almost done."
The trolls froze.
Slowly, their laughter faded as they turned toward Damon.
He stood there casually, hands resting at his sides.
"You speak our tongue," the troll leader said coldly. "Man from the holy race."
Damon smiled faintly.
"What do you think?" he replied. "Perhaps your ears are deceiving you."
The troll narrowed his eyes.
If they were ordinary warriors, they would never dare touch won of the holy race. Even bandits hesitated before provoking the demonkin.
Still, these trolls had already decided what they wanted.
The won would fetch a high price in the underground slave markets of the cities.
Damon watched the leader thinking.
Not much thinking was happening behind those eyes, he suspected.
He rembered Renata once explaining sothing to him.
Among the monstrous races, demonkin were often called the Holy Race.
Interesting title.
Still, Damon had no intention of wasting ti.
He tilted his head slightly.
"Actually," he said calmly, "I have a counteroffer."
The trolls leaned forward.
Damon’s smile widened.
"Surrender," he said.
"Or die."
The troll leader frowned.
He could not sense even the faintest aura from Damon.
No pressure.
No threat.
Nothing.
There was no way this man was powerful.
No powerful demonkin would wander the roads with a handful of goblins unless they were using them as servants or cheap labor.
And if this man had the money to command so many goblins...
Then he should certainly have been riding in a carriage.
In conclusion, he was weak with no power. This was the Demon Continent. While it was safe from greater dangers, the trolls still had to make a living.
He raised his giant mace.
"Die."
The wind ruptured as the very ground scread from the sheer impact of the mace moving through the air. The air resistance even made it glow red. That was the amount of force it had built up from the short distance to Damon.
Gabo could already see Damon’s body shattered into a mist of blood, organs flying through the air as the adow was dyed red.
None of that happened.
Damon simply raised his hand and t the mace with a casual expression. The very air exploded, collapsing inward on itself. The ground ford a crater as the troll was pushed back, skidding to a halt. His hands shook from the impact, forcing his joints to reflexively release the mace as he clutched his hand in pain.
The dust settled, drifting away to reveal Damon standing calmly.
"Is that all? You wish to rob with this insignificant amount of power."
The troll’s eyes widened. He still could not feel Damon’s aura.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Damon slowly walked forward with a calm expression.
"Surrender or die."
When he said that, a troll carrying an axe roared and charged at Damon. The axe never even reached him. A wet slashing sound echoed as the troll suddenly fell to the ground, his body ripped into pieces.
No one saw what happened. Only that he died.
Silence followed as the trolls watched in horror.
It was bad enough to see soone killed and understand how it happened. But a death that occurred right in front of you, grueso and sudden, while you never saw the enemy move, was far more terrifying.
Naturally, Damon had used shadow manipulation. Using the shadows of the plants in the adow, he ford thin strings. The troll had simply run into them and sliced himself apart.
The trolls understood one thing, a truth of the Demon Continent that had existed for ages.
There is no hierarchy greater than strength.
Then, like a suffocating wave, Damon’s aura poured out, supported by his two skills.
[On of Dread] gave him an aura of fear like a suffocating fog that reached into your very heart, crushed your lungs, and made breathing difficult.
[Terror Engine] was slightly different; this was a skill that raised his power the more he had.
[Skill: Terror Engine]
[Description:]
Fear — the oldest, most primal emotion. It drives, it empowers. From fear cos the will to destroy that which threatens. Power is born when others tremble before you.
[Effect:]
The more you are feared, the stronger your physical and magical abilities beco.
[Type:]
Passive
[Cooldown:]
0 secs
Fear. That was all they felt.
It was like facing a demon lord.
Thud.
They fell to their knees before this demon.
"We swear fealty. We beg rcy."
Damon felt sothing in his heart stir. His Seed of Depravity trembled slightly, growing just a little.
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