Chapter 95

The pale demon tensed up, gripping his trident tightly as Draven stared down at him with sky-blue eyes filled with apathy. "Hey, hey, this was supposed to be a 1v1. Why did you bring a spirit into this?" the pale demon asked, a bead of sweat trailing down his pale skin.

"Don't worry. I won't get involved. This is between him and you," Orian replied, continuing to glare at the pale demon. "Are you ready to pay the price?" Draven asked—not the pale demon but Orian, his voice carrying an ancient and powerful resonance.

"I am. Just get rid of this creature already," Orian replied flippantly. Draven narrowed his eyes at Orian for a moment before nodding his head, shrouded by shadows, appearing like death itself with only his sky-blue eyes visible.

*I need to attack now!* the pale demon thought to himself, jumping at Orian with his trident ready. However, his assault was halted as Draven raised a half-rotten left hand, creating a barrier of wind that pushed the pale demon away, launching him into the back wall of the estate. "Get this done quick," Orian demanded. Draven nodded, hovering over to where the pale demon had been launched.

The pale demon rose slowly from the rubble of the shattered wall, his left hand gingerly holding his bald scalp. Despite the damage, he didn't seem severely harmed. "That was too tasty for me to eat," he muttered to himself before glancing up to see Draven hovering in front of him, a silent sentinel of death in the chaos. "Come on, let me have a break," the pale demon muttered with a fearful half-grin.

Draven, showing no emotion, raised his seemingly bandaged right arm slowly, his movements deliberate. With a subtle gesture, he swiped with his index finger, and almost immediately, the pale demon's upper half fell to the ground, leaving his lower half still standing amidst the debris. Confusion etched the demon's face as he looked up at Draven, who regarded him with eyes of apathy and complete disinterest. With another wave of his hand, Draven diced the pale demon's remaining body into pieces. The pale demon's death was swift and final.

Returning to Orian's side, Draven remained impassive as Orian leveled a glare at him, his frustration palpable. "Why didn't you do this to the white-haired girl?" Orian demanded, the irritation evident in his voice.

"That girl was far stronger than this demon and stronger than me," Draven explained, his voice echoing with an ancient authority. "If not for the element of surprise, you and I both would have perished in her hands."

Orian's glare deepened as he opened his mouth to say something, only to be stopped as Draven raised his half-rotting arm. "I am not here to answer your questions," Draven said with a barely noticeable glare, his gaze piercing through Orian's defiance. "I am here to defend or attack your opponents. Anything else requires a separate price," he added, his voice carrying a weight that silenced Orian's protests as Draven slowly faded away into the shadows.

Orian clicked his tongue in frustration, muttering to himself, "Arrogant trash," before closing his eyes. He watched through the eyes of his lesser spirits, checking for any other demons lurking nearby. "All clear," he confirmed to himself, his voice barely audible.

Turning away from the scene, Orian began to walk briskly toward where his Wild-Speck was parked. However, before he departed, he cast one final glance at the pale demon's diced remains, his expression a mixture of disdain and grim satisfaction.

"You demons aren't all that strong," Orian remarked with a hint of contempt as he turned away and continued on his path.

**Meanwhile**,

The fight between Arnan and Mincs raged on within the confines of the large bathroom. With a crack of her whip, Mincs launched a sharp burst of flame towards Arnan, who swiftly blocked it with the black, scratchy mist he conjured in front of him. In retaliation, Arnan unleashed a bolt of the same mist charged in his right hand. Mincs bent her body to the side, skillfully dodging the bolt, causing it to shatter a solid chunk of the tile wall upon impact.

"That was scary!" Mincs exclaimed, thrusting forward with her rapier, which gleamed before bursting forward in swirling flames.

"That's not going to work, monkey!" Arnan yelled confidently as he countered, sending a whirlwind made of the black, scratchy mist towards the swirling flames. The arms within the mist reached out towards Mincs, seemingly asking for help as they were burned up upon contact with the flames.

"Hey, could you tell me what you're actually attacking me with?" Mincs asked curiously as she jumped back, seeking cover behind one of the two ornamental pillars in the room.

"The souls of other monkeys, what else?" Arnan exclaimed with a smirk before making a slashing motion with his arm. A strand of black, scratchy mist lashed out like a whip towards Mincs and the pillar. Upon contact, the mist sliced through the entire pillar horizontally, vibrating like a chainsaw. The faces of agony within the mist mixed, letting out a near-silent moan of pain. *Did I get her?* Arnan wondered, but his question was soon answered as he heard something metallic clink against the tile floor. He looked down to see a scale, which started to glow a hot orange. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he quickly formed a small dome of black, scratchy mist around the scale, which was blown apart as it absorbed the explosion.

"That's a pretty cool ability," Mincs remarked, impressed. She attempted to stab him from behind with her rapier but stopped as she noticed thin black, scratchy mist forming underneath Arnan's right foot. The mist suddenly shot up towards her, causing her to lean back in surprise.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed, leaning back as the mist scratched against her armored chest before barely missing her face. "That was close," she said in relief as Arnan tried to swiftly turn around to backfist her, but his attempt was very sloppy. Mincs dodged the swing easily and remarked, "Wow, you cannot fight hand to hand."

She wasn't trying to mock him; she was genuinely surprised. However, Arnan didn't take it like that and yelled, "I'll break apart your soul, monkey!" as he unleashed two charged bolts of black, scratchy mist towards Mincs.

Right as Mincs was about to react to block, dodge, or counter the attack, a massive spike made of stone crashed through the wall from outside the mansion. They both turned to look at it wide-eyed before swiftly jumping back to avoid being hit. The stone spike, struck by the two bolts of black, scratchy mist, shattered into chunks before plunging into the middle of the room, causing water from the circular pool to splash into the air and around the bathroom.

"Who the hell did that!?" Arnan yelled in frustration before spotting Mincs, immediately running to the hole in the wall and jumping out without hesitation. "Get back here, monkey!" Arnan's voice echoed as he dashed after Mincs toward the hole in the wall, leaping out right behind her.

After landing on the ground, Arnan glanced up to see Mincs seeking refuge behind someone—a man with messy black hair, brown eyes with dark circles underneath, and a rifle in his hand.

"Monkey? Seriously?" the man asked, raising a skeptical brow. "Have some class, you're a demon for crying out loud," he chided with a weary expression. "What are you going to do about it, monkey?" Arnan challenged, his right hand crackling with charged souls. The man responded by pointing his rifle directly at Arnan. "Just gonna add it to the list of reasons for killing you, shithead," Jakel declared, joining in on the chaos.