Chapter 14

The clash of steel and claws rang out, sharp and deafening, as Lennix and the black knight met the deer-skulled demon head-on. Shadows coiled around the black knight's feet, anchoring him in place, while Lennix's clawed hands snapped upward, struggling against the sheer force behind the dear-skulled demon's blow.

"Holy—!" Lennix barely got the word out before the demon's hand whipped forward, striking him across the torso with the back of its claws. The impact sent him hurtling through the air, his body twisting uncontrollably before he crashed spine-first against the edge of a stone well.

"Ugh! That's gonna take some time to heal!" he groaned, rolling onto his side.

The black knight caught the sight out of the corner of his eye, his mind racing. *Did Lennix land that first kick only because the demon was caught off guard?* His gaze flicked up toward its antlers, taking in their sharp, twisted points. *Wait… do those count as horns? That would explain why it's so damn tough!*

His thoughts were cut short as his arms trembled beneath the demon's relentless pressure. It bore down on him with its left hand, forcing him lower. Then, its right arm reeled back, claws poised to carve straight through him.

*Crap!*

Thinking fast, the black knight shifted the shape of his greatsword, shadows twisting as it shrank into a longsword. The sudden change threw the demon off balance, its force pressing too hard against the now-missing resistance. Its left hand slammed into the dirt just as the black knight swung down toward its skull.

The blade met flesh—only for the demon to intercept it with its free hand.

"Shadow magic. A rare affinity," it mused, its voice disturbingly calm. Then, with a sudden burst of strength, it shoved him back, forcing him to stumble.

The moment he steadied himself, the demon was already in motion. It rose to its full, towering height, then lashed out in a flurry of strikes. A clawed hand swung from the right—blocked. Another from the left—blocked. A downward slash from above—blocked again. The black knight's shield of shadows absorbed the hits, but the demon's reach kept him locked in defense.

*Come on, Lennix, heal already!*

He threw up twin shadow shields to intercept another set of slashes, only to catch a flicker of movement from the demon's core. Its abdominal muscles pulsed, then parted, revealing something writhing beneath.

A red, tentacle-like appendage shot out, its spiked tip aimed straight for his chest. He reacted instantly, summoning a wall of shadows—not enough to block the strike entirely, but enough to dull the impact.

Before the attack could land, the demon jerked slightly, its body stiffening. Its head turned, glowing red eyes settling on something behind it.

A broken sword was buried in its back.

The village guard stood there, his breathing ragged but his hands steady around the hilt.

"Braver now that you have a fighting chance," the demon remarked, its maw creaking open, jagged teeth bared as it prepared to bite the man's head off.

"Same thing as last time!"

The words barely registered before Lennix's boot slammed into the side of the demon's skull. Once again, its massive form went flying, this time crashing through the trunk of a tree, splintering wood and sending leaves scattering into the air.

The guard stumbled backward, blinking rapidly as he turned to Lennix and the black knight. "A-a-are you okay?"

Lennix rolled his shoulders, stretching his back with a loud pop. "My snapped spine's back in place," he said, flashing a weak thumbs-up.

"And I haven't been hit yet," the black knight added, his greatsword reforming from the shadows.

"Thanks for the help," he continued, glancing at the shaken guard. "But I really recommend you get to safety now."

The guard hesitated only for a moment before nodding. He turned, running to the man who had been dragged by the imps, hoisting him up and carrying him away from the battle.

"So… you got a plan yet?" Lennix asked, eyes locked on the deer-skulled demon as it began to rise once more.

The black knight let out a sharp breath. "Lennix, I've told you this all the other times we've had to fight demons, I'm a Monster Hunter, not a Demon Hunter. I know more than the average person, but not enough to give us any sort of advantage."

The demon straightened, its unnatural frame rolling upright with eerie fluidity.

"You don't have a plan, then?" Lennix pressed.

"Unless 'hit the thing till it dies' counts as a plan, no, I do not." The black knight lifted his greatsword, shifting his stance as the demon started toward them. "Just be glad it only has horns and not a name—otherwise, we'd be really screwed."

The words had barely left his mouth when the demon froze.

Lennix stiffened. "Wa-wait… what? Why did it stop?"

"How am I supposed to know?" the black knight muttered.

The demon slowly tilted its head, those glowing red pits locking onto them. Then, in that same hollow, detached voice, it spoke.

"You think I have no name?"

The black knight's stomach dropped as his eyes widened.

"Oh no."

The air around them shifted, growing thick, heavy—wrong.

"I am Gravokar."

The demon's arms spread wide, its towering antlers pulsing with an ominous, unnatural glow.

The black knight tightened his grip on his greatsword. "It's about to take us to its Hellscape."

Lennix's expression twisted. "Meaning?"

"Meaning—" The black knight adjusted his stance, bracing himself. "We're dead."

The light at the demon's antlers flared, the very air warping as reality strained—

"Can't have that."

A voice—unfamiliar, casual, and completely unfazed—cut through the moment.

For a fraction of a second, something glowed within Gravokar's chest. Then—

A sudden, violent detonation.

Gravokar's torso erupted in a shower of gore. The demon's hands snapped to its chest, claws grasping at the gaping wound, as its body staggered. For a moment, it tried to stay upright—then it collapsed, lifeless.

Lennix and the black knight stood frozen, staring at the unmoving corpse. Then, almost in sync, their heads lifted.

Behind where the demon once stood, a figure came into focus. A man, standing casually with his arm still outstretched, index finger lazily pointed at the now-dead demon. His wild, blue-gray hair hung loose, only half-heartedly slicked back, giving him an almost careless, disheveled look. His clothes—black and dull blue robes—were loose, plainly made for comfort and nothing else.

He smiled.

"Phew. Glad I came just in time."