Fighting Without A Weapon

Damien walked out of the building after thanking Arielle once again. Although he didn't tell her where he was headed, he promised to return by sundown.

Wooooosh~

The wind roared past Damien as he soared through the skies on Aquila.

The town was already a distant speck on the horizon, and the world below stretched out in vast green and brown patches of forest, hills, and barren lands. Despite the cool breeze, Damien's thoughts burned with frustration.

The encounter with the Grade Two demon had shaken him. Though he had triumphed, the margin had been razor-thin. He knew he wasn't strong enough—not yet.

The thought of his father, far stronger and infinitely more skilled, loomed over him like a shadow. He clenched his fists as the image of his father's indifferent face replayed in his mind.

"If I can barely handle a demon," Damien muttered, "then I stand no chance against him...yet."