Thaloren lay sprawled on the ground while the noble demon watched him with a hint of disappointment at how the battle had ended. Daion, meanwhile, struggled uselessly against the overwhelming weight of the corrupted. Not even with his enhanced stats could he move an inch. The pain in his neck grew unbearable, as if his skull were about to crack.
The noble regarded them for a few seconds before closing his eyes with resignation. His monstrous form began to fade: the fur vanished, his proportions returned to something biologically possible, and even his clothes reappeared. The wound on his side, however, still oozed blood, staining the ground beneath him. He paid it no mind and began walking alongside the other corrupted, who snickered, mocking the defeated humans.
Daion clenched his teeth. He tried again to break free, to push past that immense force. He knew what they had said: for now, they weren't allowed to kill them. But it was equally clear that, if they wanted to, they could wipe out the entire place in mere minutes.
"Hey…" The corrupted's voice rang unpleasantly in his ears. Daion turned his eyes just enough to see him. The demon hunched down until his face was inches from his own. Daion held his gaze as long as he could. "You're terrified…"
"Well, I could die right now. I'm not sure how else I'm supposed to feel," Daion shot back dryly.
"But…" The demon seemed to fumble for words, as though speaking to a human was strange to him. "Even so, you try to fight. Why?"
Daion blinked at him in confusion, realizing the demon's curiosity was genuine.
"What do you mean?"
"You know we won't kill you. So if you're that scared… why not just stay down?" the corrupted asked.
The summoned warrior looked away.
"The answer's obvious," Daion said, straining his muscles and pressing harder in an attempt to break free. "No matter how much fear I feel, as a human I won't bow to any damn demon."
The corrupted narrowed his eyes, unable to fully grasp the weight of words spoken by someone he could crush like an insect.
Without warning, a chill ran down his spine. Instinctively, he leapt back, slamming Daion's face harder into the dirt. Ken's blade sliced past, close enough to shear a few strands of his hair. The corrupted fell back to the ground, unable to spread his wings in time.
For a moment his attention shifted to Ken, but he had to dodge immediately: Daion's sword had slashed his leg. Dust burst into the air as a trickle of dark blood dripped to the ground. The demon looked at him with renewed interest.
"A human, huh?" he repeated in a low, rumbling voice, his eyes fixed on the sword wreathed in Omega energy. "You managed to wound me. What does that mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Daion lifted his hand, and the sword flew back into his palm. The demon barely managed to dodge as the blade swiped past. "I refuse to die at your hands. Even if this world is as vile as its inhabitants, I'll keep fighting until the very end. It's the only thing I know how to do!"
The demon seemed thrilled, while the noble looked at him in surprise and the other corrupted snickered among themselves. The summoned warriors, however, tightened their grip on their weapons and stepped forward, ready to act.
Then the mid-rank demon broke into a piercing laugh, like a child who had just discovered clay.
"How fascinating!" he exclaimed, turning toward Behemoth. "Tiberius, is this the one you meant? The human who might awaken my will to fight?"
Tiberius smiled faintly and gave a nod. The demon's eyes glowed with intensity as his wings spread and his muscles swelled grotesquely.
"Simply killing is boring. Now I want to see how far your will goes, human. My name is Tinitos… fight me, mortal!"
"Wait—" the noble tried to cut in.
But Tinitos ignored him. Daion raised his sword on pure instinct and, to his own shock, managed to block a direct punch. He felt the metal bending, his body hurled several meters through the air, before he hit the ground and rolled, his bones cracking with pain.
He barely had time to lift his gaze when a shadow fell upon him. Reflex took over—he swung his sword in a quick slash. But he hadn't charged it with Omega energy: the blade stopped halfway, pressing weakly against the demon's skin. Tinitos glanced at it curiously, the edge barely scratching him.
"Try harder!" he demanded, grinning savagely.
Daion grit his teeth, planting his feet into the ground, pouring all his remaining strength into the strike. His effort was cut short by a brutal punch to the stomach. He felt his armor shatter along with his ribs, a shockwave tearing through his body. The demon smiled in satisfaction and, with a casual motion, sent him flying dozens of meters into the air.
Daion forced himself to stay conscious, digging his cracked nails into his palm until blood seeped out. The air roared in his ears as he spun. Disoriented, he managed to glimpse the summoned warriors, frozen in place, unable to follow the demon's speed. Even Ken seemed overwhelmed.
In truth, he could barely see it himself. All he made out was a black blur, but his body reacted on pure instinct: he could feel where the strike was coming from. He twisted in the air and brought his sword into position. As he predicted, the figure appeared right in front of him.
But he had no chance to respond—the kick from Tinitos tore through him like lightning, slamming him back into the ground with a brutal impact.
The earth shook, but Daion forced himself upright almost immediately. He lifted his gaze: the demon hovered above with arrogant ease. Daion tightened his grip, wrapping his sword in Omega energy. Tinitos tilted his head, then dove at him with a beat of his wings. Daion swung in a desperate arc that missed entirely. The demon spread his arms and engulfed him in a wave of corrupt energy, sending him crashing to the ground.
Daion hit the dirt, gasping for air.
"What a disappointment. Is that the limit of your will?" Tinitos sneered. Daion let his head rest against the earth. "I thought breaking your spirit would be fun, but you're far too weak to be worth the effort."
The demon folded his wings in irritation. Daion struck the ground with his fist and staggered to his feet again. The summoned warriors around him watched in disbelief at his stubbornness. Tinitos narrowed his crimson eyes.
"Well… I'm not broken yet. In fact, you've turned out to be pretty simple," Daion shot back, taunting him. "Don't think you can shatter my will with just a few punches, because…" He faltered for a moment. Despite the horrific wounds he carried from every fight, he always ended up standing again, foolishly. "…because I know I'm prepared to endure any pain. So stop playing around and show me what you can really do."
Tinitos frowned, letting out a frustrated growl. Daion smiled. Tiberius, meanwhile, watched the fight with renewed interest. Ken stayed in the rear, sword ready to intervene at any moment.
The demon stretched out his hand and clenched the air. A hilt materialized in his palm, and from nothing a sword emerged. It was jagged, with strange red markings that pulsed like veins. A single-edged crimson saber, warped and irregular, at least two meters long—yet in his grip, it looked like an ordinary blade.
A chill ran down Daion's spine. Suddenly, Tinitos vanished from sight. For a few terrifying instants, Daion was at the mercy of chance. Acting on desperate instinct, he raised his sword to the side. The demon appeared there, grinning. Daion slashed.
"Stop!" Tiberius barked.
Terror coursed through Daion as the demon's blade shattered his sword in two. The crimson saber carried on, completing a perfect half-moon arc that swept across his neck.
Daion blinked; the summoned warriors froze. He reached for his throat—the blade had grazed his skin. A sickening dampness made his stomach twist. He pulled his hand away and saw crimson staining his fingers.
The demon no longer held the sword; he let it fade away with a sigh of boredom.
"We can't kill a summoned one yet, can we?" he said with a trace of regret, walking away from Daion.
It was only a shallow cut on the side of his neck. Daion fell to his knees in relief. Tiberius glanced at him briefly, then turned his eyes to Thaloren, still unconscious.
"In the end, they're only human. Without the gods' support, they don't stand a chance." He spoke the words like a sentence, then faced his own.
The corrupted regrouped and began withdrawing in the opposite direction. But, as always, Daion wasn't content. He stared at his shattered sword, picked up the pieces as best he could, and with a swift motion hurled it toward the corrupted. The blade whistled past Tiberius's ear and buried itself in the ground. The monsters snarled and turned, but the noble demon raised his hand, demanding silence.
Daion limped toward them, every step painful.
"Hey," he called out. "You're the leader, aren't you? Since you had your fun with us, you could at least answer a few questions."
Tiberius turned fully, one eyebrow arched in curiosity.
"How insolent for a human," he muttered, giving him a closer look. "Why do you think I'd tell you anything?"
"Because I know your kind," Daion answered firmly. "You're bored, aren't you? You win so easily that victory no longer satisfies you. What you're looking for is a real challenge."
Tiberius regarded him with surprise, scratched his chin, then glanced at Tinitos, who scowled at the deduction.
"What are you proposing, mortal?" he asked with interest.
"You shouldn't even be here yet," Daion pressed. "Does that mean you're planning a larger attack?"
"Correct," Tiberius admitted. "Technically, the attack will come in two or three weeks, but I wanted to see if it was worth my personal presence."
"And?" Daion insisted.
"It is worth it… though I don't know. I'll crush you when I return with far less ceremony. Bringing an army bores me." Tiberius spoke with a mix of disdain and cold pragmatism.
"What if you give me a date and tell me how big that army will be?" Daion risked.
The Corrupted glanced at each other, confused by the human's audacity.
"And why the hell would I do that?" Tiberius asked with a disbelieving laugh.
"Because then I'd show you something truly entertaining," Daion replied. "If you give me the date and the size of the army, we'll have time to prepare. Then we can offer you a fight so entertaining that you'll either die or win with a real smile of satisfaction."
The Summoned watched him without understanding what he was plotting. Seraphine looked on in disbelief: Daion was manipulating those monsters, and the worst part was that his strategy was so obvious they couldn't ignore it.
"And why do you think that would happen?" asked the noble demon.
"Because you know Thaloren was holding back," Daion shot back, pointing at the other demon. "And you…"—he looked at Tinitos, who let out a chuckle—"you didn't manage to break me, did you?"
The demon stared at the ground for a moment.
"No," he admitted. "Even terrified of dying, you kept your composure." Tiberius studied him with surprise. "But that's not enough—you're far too weak to sustain an interesting fight."
"If you agree, you'll get a real rematch with Thaloren. And you, demon" pointing to Tinitos "You'll be able to fight me with greater force, and if my limit is my current strength, I'll do the impossible to surpass it until I can kill you in a single blow. You won't have any reason to complain." Daion smiled, struggling to breathe; he didn't know where this determination came from, but he saw no other way out: a surprise attack meant instant death. If they could prepare, maybe they had a chance. He would milk the enemy's arrogance for all it was worth. "Does that sound like a good deal to you?"
Tiberius considered it for a moment and stepped toward him; the pressure was so immense Daion had to lean on something to keep from collapsing. The Corrupted tried to protest, but a single glance from the demon silenced them.
Then Tiberius extended his hand toward Daion. The young man looked at it, sweating as though he were in an oven.
"Twenty-two days," Tiberius declared. "An army of about two hundred Corrupted, with Tinitos as my second-in-command."
Daion tensed at the words; it was likely neither of them had even fought seriously yet.
He took a deep breath and clasped the demon's hand. A sharp pain shot through him as the creature crushed his grip and shook it.
"One warning: if this turns out to be boring, or if you try to run, I will know," Tiberius assured him, yanking Daion closer until they were face-to-face. "And then you'll beg for death, because I'll savor your essence for a hundred years. Understood, human?"
"I…" Daion's voice trembled, but then he forced a smile. "Wouldn't expect anything less."
Those present watched the Corrupted walk away. Daion collapsed to his knees; he had been in worse shape physically, but now he had struck a deal with a demon—and he wasn't even sure why.
Ken and Amelie rushed to him; both stared in disbelief. Daion sighed and asked Ken for help. He nodded, letting Daion lean on his arm as they walked. The other Summoned watched them with fear in their eyes.
Daion searched for Loryn—he was smiling, somewhere between astonishment and frustration. Aelith had approached trembling, though Daion didn't know why; the rest stood frozen, not knowing what to do. From the wall, Seraphine pressed her hands against the stone and glared down at him with disdain—the only reaction, to Daion, that was worth provoking.
Meanwhile, the soldiers hurried to aid Thaloren: they shielded his neck, set him on an improvised stretcher, and carried him back to the fortress.
Daion found himself standing before them all; he couldn't tell if they looked at him with contempt or gratitude. He couldn't even say if he had saved them, or simply given them the date of their deaths.
"You challenged a noble demon to a duel?" asked one of the captains—the very same who had always denied him an audience with Seraphine.
Daion shrugged; he honestly wasn't sure what he had just done.
The Summoned glanced at each other; the thought of fleeing grew clearer than ever. Daion knew it: he was damned. No one here had any reason to stay and fight; he would probably be the only fool waiting for them in twenty-two days.
Ken and Amelie guided him back to Loryn, laid him on the ground, and stepped aside.
"Let's check on Brut," Ken said. "If that blast hit him, there's a good chance…" He trailed off when he noticed Amelie clenching her fist. Daion remembered what the Alpha God had said—that Brut loved her. He wasn't sure he believed it; there were no obvious signs, but it startled him to see Amelie so distraught.
The two of them left. Loryn remained silent beside Daion; the high-ranking Summoned didn't know what to say. Aelith moved closer, stood at his side, and also said nothing. Daion sighed and lay back on the ground.
"My sword bounced off his skin," he muttered, defeated. "Will it regenerate?"
"It'll take a few days, unless you ascend in rank," Loryn confirmed.
"I would have killed him," Loryn insisted. Daion glanced at him sideways; Aelith bit her lip in frustration.
Daion pushed himself up and stroked her head; this time she didn't pull away. Her ears even lowered, feline-like.
"How strong can I get in twenty-two days?" Daion asked seriously.
"With luck, you might reach rank D," Loryn replied. "But you're still far from defeating a mid-rank Corrupted."
Daion lowered his head, frustrated. He scanned the battlefield and then looked at Thaloren. A thought crossed his mind: there was one way to win—or maybe the blows had scrambled my brain, he thought bitterly.
He jumped to his feet, pushed past the onlookers, and planted himself directly before Seraphine. From this close, Daion could see her struggling to regain her composure.
"Hey, black-haired bitch!" Daion called. The crowd stared at him in disbelief.
Seraphine lowered her gaze and frowned; she was not the person he should have been provoking at that moment. Neither the Summoned nor the soldiers could believe what they'd just heard. She sighed.
"What do you want, idiot?" she asked.
"I suppose now you don't have any reason to deny me a meeting, right?" Daion mocked; it felt anticlimactic that the fool who had just announced war would react like this.
"I suppose not," she answered curtly.
"Good," Daion said firmly, "because if we're going to win, you'll have to listen to me."
Seraphine's face twisted in disgust. Daion smiled, convinced it would be worth it.
End of Chapter 28.