Damien and Garrick didn’t see these ones at first.
The shadows themselves moved.
Twin Shade Stalkers erged simultaneously from opposite sides, their forms half-phased, eyes glowing faintly violet.
Garrick barely managed to block the first strike, the impact numbing his arm. The second Stalker lunged for his blind spot and was intercepted mid-air by Damien’s blade.
Damien didn’t kill it imdiately.
He used its montum, twisting and slamming it into the ground hard enough to disrupt its phasing. The creature scread as its form stabilized.
"Now!" Damien called.
Garrick struck, driving his blade through its core.
The second Stalker disengaged, trying to retreat into shadow but Damien followed, his movents matching the creature’s unnatural shifts perfectly.
A single strike ended it.
Garrick laughed breathlessly once the danger passed. "You’re terrifying, you know that?"
Damien sheathed his blade. "So are loan sharks."
They didn’t stop.
From sunup to late afternoon, they hunted relentlessly.
A Thunderjaw Crocodilian that tried to ambush them at a riverbank.
A pack of Ironfur Wolves that tested their endurance.
A malford demon brute that wandered too close to the forest’s heart.
Each fight was harder than the last.
Sweat soaked Garrick’s armor. His arms trembled from exhaustion. But every ti he faltered, Damien was there—not to save him outright, but to shift the balance just enough.
A staggered beast.
A disrupted spell.
A perfectly tid strike.
By dusk, Luton had grown noticeably larger, its surface pulsing faintly as it stored kill after kill within its Universal Space.
Garrick leaned on his blade, panting. "I think... I think we’ve got enough."
Damien didn’t respond imdiately.
He was staring ahead.
The forest had gone quiet again—but this ti, it wasn’t the calm of exhaustion.
It was anticipation.
A slow clap echoed through the trees.
"Well," a voice said, smooth and articulate, "this has been... enlightening."
Damien’s eyes narrowed.
From between the trees stepped a tall figure, humanoid in shape but unmistakably wrong. Its skin bore faint crimson patterns, horns barely visible beneath a hood, eyes glowing with sharp intelligence.
A demon.
Not feral.
Not mindless.
Grade Three.
Intelligent.
Garrick swallowed. "That’s... not normal."
Damien’s grip tightened on his weapon.
"No," he agreed quietly. "It isn’t."
The demon smiled, exposing sharp teeth. "I was wondering who’d been thinning the forest so efficiently."
The air grew heavy.
And both humans knew the hunt was far from over even as the forest seed to hold its breath.
Damien stood still, senses stretched taut as invisible threads, locked entirely onto the figure before them. The demon didn’t move closer, nor did it retreat. It simply observed, its head tilted slightly, posture relaxed in a way that no feral creature would ever adopt.
Up close, the wrongness beca clearer.
Its essence core pulsed with the quantity of a Grade Four demon which Damien could feel that much easily. But the density... that was another matter entirely. The essence was compressed, refined, layered upon itself like folded steel. It felt heavy. Dangerous.
If he went by volu, this demon was a Grade Four.
By essence quality and density, it was a dangerous Grade Three.
Damien exhaled slowly.
A troubleso one, he concluded.
Garrick shifted uneasily beside him, hand tightening on his weapon. "That thing... it’s staring like it understands us."
"It does," Damien replied quietly. "And that’s the problem."
The demon’s lips curled upward, not into a snarl, but a grin—wide, almost amused.
"So perceptive," it said smoothly. Its voice was deep, resonant, carrying a strange echo that didn’t quite belong to the forest. "Most humans don’t notice until they’re already dying."
Garrick stiffened. "It’s talking."
"Yes," Damien said. "Move back."
Garrick hesitated. "What—"
"Move," Damien repeated, firr this ti. "This fight isn’t for you."
Reluctantly, Garrick retreated several dozen ters, positioning himself behind thick trees while keeping his eyes locked on the demon. Luton shifted closer to Damien, its surface rippling faintly, ready but restrained.
The demon watched Garrick go, then turned its attention fully back to Damien.
"You sent the weaker one away," it observed. "Thoughtful. You humans are fragile. Break too easily in the crossfire."
Damien didn’t respond imdiately. Instead, he studied the demon carefully. From its posture to the subtle way its essence flowed beneath its skin, the intelligence shining unmistakably in its eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Damien asked at last.
The demon chuckled. "Straight to questions. I like that."
It rolled its shoulders lazily. "I felt you. Both of you. Two strange essences moving through my territory. One... familiar. One unusual."
Its gaze flicked briefly to Luton, then returned to Damien. "The last human I ate tasted similar. Months ago."
Damien’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"You’ve been here that long?"
The demon nodded. "Sort of."
That answer sent a ripple of unease through Damien’s thoughts.
During my previous stay... I never encountered one like this.
Had it been hiding? Or had sothing changed since then?
"And you didn’t attack imdiately?" Damien asked.
"No need," the demon replied lightly. "I was curious. Humans don’t co here often. When they do, they usually scream."
Its grin widened. "Besides, humans are... valuable. Your kind grants strength. Intelligence. mory. Devouring you would benefit greatly."
Damien’s expression didn’t change. "Then you’ll be disappointed."
"Oh?"
"You’ll serve as our growth instead."
For a split second, the demon simply stared.
Then its expression twisted—not into rage imdiately, but into sothing sharper. Offense.
"How arrogant," it said softly. "You speak as if the outco is already decided."
Damien’s stance shifted subtly, weight settling evenly, body loosening like a coiled spring.
"I’ve decided enough."
The demon’s grin vanished.
The forest trembled as demonic essence surged outward from its body, crushing the air with oppressive force. Trees creaked. Leaves shook violently.
"Very well," it snarled. "Let’s see how long that confidence lasts."
Boooooom!!
The ground exploded.
The demon moved first, vanishing in a blur as it crossed the distance between them in an instant. Its clawed hand swung for Damien’s head, demonic essence roaring as it tore through the air.
Damien ducked.
The claw skimd over his hair, shredding the tree behind him instead. Before the demon could follow through, Damien countered—his fist driving forward with concentrated force.
The demon twisted mid-motion, barely avoiding a direct hit, but the shockwave still sent it skidding backward several ters.
Its eyes lit up.
"Oh?" it said, excitent bleeding into its voice. "You can keep up."
Damien didn’t press the advantage recklessly. He advanced carefully, steps light, movents economical.
The demon laughed, genuinely delighted. "Good. Very good. Killing you will be worth it."
It lunged again, this ti lower with jaws opening wide and teeth gleaming as it aid to take Damien’s head clean off.
Damien reacted instantly.
He stepped into the attack.
His palm slamd upward into the demon’s throat with explosive force, demonic essence rippling violently at the point of impact. The demon’s eyes widened as the blow crushed its windpipe and disrupted its essence flow.
Its massive body flew backward, smashing through tree after tree, carving a wide path through the forest before crashing heavily into the ground dozens of ters away.
Boooooooom!!
The forest shook from the impact.
Damien straightened slowly, rolling his shoulder once as if loosening a stiff joint.
Luton pulsed faintly beside him, eager.
The demon coughed, black ichor spilling from its mouth as it dragged itself upright. Its grin was gone now—replaced by sothing far more dangerous.
Exhilaration.
"Yes..." it rasped, wiping its mouth. "Yes! This is it!"
It laughed, loud and unhinged, demonic essence flaring even brighter around its form. "If I devour you... I’ll beco sothing truly terrifying!"
Damien’s gaze hardened.
"So will I," he replied.
The air between them trembled as both sides prepared to clash again.
And the forest of Twin Disasters watched silently, ancient and uncaring, as two predators prepared to tear each other apart.
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