A Wolf and a Pig Walk Into a Bar...

No matter how much he denied it, a part of Daion wanted to be the hero.

Save the town. Be praised.

But reality wasn't so kind.

And reality came swinging in the form of a battle-axe.

He barely had time to react. His sword met the monster's strike, but the sheer force sent him flying. He crashed through a wooden stall, the structure exploding into splinters beneath his weight.

Pain shot up his spine as he hit the ground.

"Look at that… one of the gods' little champions."

The wolf's voice was deep and guttural, vibrating in the air. Its snout twisted open like a grotesque flower of teeth.

"Doesn't look like much, though. Look at his gauntlet—barely any Omega energy left."

The pig-like monster snorted, its laughter an eerie, layered sound—both its snout and the gaping maw on its stomach speaking at once, creating an unsettling echo.

The wolf let out a series of sharp, erratic sounds. Laughter.

"Still better than these pathetic human soldiers."

It gestured at the few remaining soldiers, their hands shaking, their bodies frozen in terror.

"I suppose."

Daion forced himself to stand. Adrenaline surged through his veins, sharpening his focus. He gripped his sword tighter.

The wolf's many eyes gleamed with amusement. Its snout parted, about to speak—

A soldier's scream cut through the air.

The man charged, ducking under the wolf's axe in a desperate maneuver and slamming his palm against its abdomen.

"Flash!"

An explosion erupted at the point of impact. The force sent the soldier flying, slamming into the ground with bone-rattling force.

He looked at his hand—charred, blackened to the bone.

The pig barely reacted.

"Arl, you reckless idiot," another soldier growled.

"Relax, it worked," Arl coughed, forcing a smirk. "Took the mutt with me."

He pointed toward the thick smoke, already convinced of victory.

"That just leaves the Glutton—"

Daion's stomach twisted.

Something was wrong.

He bolted toward Arl.

"Move, you idiot!"

"Huh?"

The soldier turned, confused—

Then he heard the sound.

The crunch of something shifting within the smoke.

Before he could lift his sword, the wolf emerged.

It let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

And in one clean motion, its axe carved through flesh and bone.

Arl's head flew.

It hit the ground with a sickening thud, rolling to a stop at the feet of his comrades.

Screams erupted from the remaining soldiers.

"Tsk."

The wolf spat blood onto the ground. Smoke still trailed from its abdomen, a thin red line oozing down its side.

"I told you not to let your guard down, idiot."

The pig scoffed, crossing his secondary arms.

Daion felt warm blood splatter across his face.

His body locked up.

He watched Arl's lifeless body slump forward.

"One last piece of advice."

Jack's voice echoed in his mind.

"Since I don't want you to die, this one's free."

Daion had frowned, irritated.

"Remember how the Hellseeker's head exploded when I drove my blade through its mouth?"

"Yeah."

"All monsters have a weak point. Sometimes it's obvious, sometimes it's not."

Jack had slung his pack over his shoulder and walked away, Haruka and Finn following in silence.

"Find it. Drive your steel into it. Good luck, Daion."

His own scream tore through the battlefield.

The wolf turned its head—just in time for Daion's sword to come down like a bolt of lightning.

The monster snapped its deformed jaws open, catching the blade between its teeth.

"Nice try, kid."

"I'm just getting started."

Daion twisted his body and yanked the sword free with all his strength.

Metal scraped against bone. Teeth cracked and shattered. Flesh tore as half the creature's jaw ripped away.

The wolf shrieked.

But there was no time to celebrate.

The pig took one step forward.

And swung.

Daion barely managed to deflect the massive blade, but the impact rattled the entire street.

He recovered fast. Aimed for the beast's stomach-mouth and slashed—

A shallow cut.

He needed to move.

He pivoted to the side to avoid getting boxed in—

But he forgot one thing.

The secondary arms.

Fingers closed around his coat.

Lifted him into the air.

"Go to hell!"

He swung his sword, ready to drive it into the monster's grotesque maw.

He wasn't going to be eaten.

But the wolf was already back on its feet.

"Time to fly, little bird."

The pig grinned.

And hurled him.

Daion barely had time to raise his sword before the impact hit.

He crashed through the bar's facade.

The wall splintered around him.

The air was knocked from his lungs as his body slammed into the counter—

Shattering it into a storm of wood and glass.

Pain hit him instantly.

His ribs cracked. A sharp, searing weight pressed against his chest.

He tried to move.

Gasped.

Coughed.

Blood.

Scarlet drops splattered onto the floor.

"Internal bleeding...?"

Fire wrapped around his body, his nerves screaming.

He gathered every ounce of strength left in him.

Tried to stand.

And collapsed.

No.

Not like this.

The beasts entered the bar, their heavy footsteps crunching over the debris.

They came to make sure he was dead.

A muffled whimper reached his ears.

A soft sob made Daion turn his head.

His gaze met the bartender's.

She was trembling.

The embers of her morning rage had long since died, leaving only fear.

Daion whispered, voice barely audible:

"Run…"

The monsters chuckled.

"What's wrong, little hero? Is that all you've got?"

Disappointment laced the wolf's tone.

"Told you he was weak," the pig grunted.

Daion forced himself upright, swaying on his feet. His ribs throbbed with sharp, stabbing pain.

But something wasn't right.

They were stronger. Faster. More coordinated than the monsters from the cave.

And yet… there were only two of them?

He had been paying attention. The battle's epicenter was right here. But the rest of the village? Silent.

"You two… Are you the only ones?"

The air tensed.

The wolf's grin faltered.

"The hell are you talking about?"

Daion exhaled slowly. Forced a smirk.

"What? Bored fighting just the two of you?"

His tone was light, almost playful, but inside, he was analyzing—stalling for even a second more of recovery.

"The Hellseaker… it's not just any monster, is it?"

The pig's brow furrowed.

The laughter stopped.

"…I see."

His voice dropped into a cold, dead monotone.

"We assumed it was the villagers… but there's no one here capable of killing Corrupt."

Daion tightened his grip on his sword.

The bartender was still crawling toward the shadows.

But he had no eyes for her.

His attention was locked on them.

And he grinned.

"So that cave really was your home... Too bad you found your friend's blood painting the entrance."

A taunt.

The Corrupt moved in, slow, predatory.

"Even so… how the hell did some kid take down a Raptor and a Hellseaker inside a predator's den?"

The wolf's spider-like eyes gleamed, studying him.

Daion exhaled, forcing himself into a battle stance. Every muscle in his body screamed. His ribs felt like they were stabbing into his lungs.

Didn't matter.

He had a goal.

"Come find out."

It should have sounded badass.

But then—

A weak yelp broke the tension.

The bartender had stumbled right before reaching the exit.

The monsters turned.

"Oh? A woman…" the pig muttered. His lower mouth smacked wetly.

"And not bad-looking either…"

Daion's eyes turned to steel.

"Hey, dumbasses."

He grabbed a bottle from the counter and hurled it.

The Glutton reacted too late.

SMASH!

Glass shattered against his snout, dousing him in liquor.

The monster licked his face, savoring the taste with a cruel smile.

"What exactly—"

Daion moved.

Snatched a lit candle from a nearby table.

The wolf realized what he was doing.

Too late.

Daion's sword struck like lightning, forcing the wolf to block in a panic. The impact knocked him off balance.

The blade clattered to the floor.

Daion leaped onto a table, dodging the pig's wild swing by inches, and hurled the candles.

Flames kissed the alcohol-soaked snout.

FWOOSH.

The fire ignited, roaring to life.

The pig's scream was inhuman.

"I thought demons lived in flames… My bad."

Daion's smirk barely had time to form before—

WHAM!

The wolf lunged.

The axe came down.

Splintering the floor.

Sending sparks flying.

"We have many names, Summoned One… 'Demon' is just one of them."

The creature's voice dripped with hatred. Hundreds of glowing eyes burned with fury.

Daion smirked."I see."

He raised his hand.

The gem embedded in his gauntlet pulsed with light.

His sword—still lying on the ground—shot back toward him like a bolt of lightning.

He reached for it—

And nearly lost his grip.

The force behind its return jolted through his arm like a live wire, sending a sharp sting through his bones.

The wolf demon reacted instantly, twisting away, but not fast enough—Daion's blade grazed its side, leaving a deep, bloody gash.

It snarled, lips peeling back to reveal jagged, gleaming fangs.

Not just angry—excited.

Daion adjusted his grip, his arm trembling from the strain.

Meanwhile, the pig-faced brute, still smoldering from the flames, charged in with a savage downward strike.

Daion moved.

Steel met steel.

The clash echoed through the ruins.

This time, it was the monster's weapon that faltered.

Both creatures locked onto him now.

Adrenaline flooded Daion's veins. The pain, the exhaustion—it was all drowned out by the raw surge of battle. He felt unstoppable, like he could take on an entire army—

Then he noticed something.

The bartender was gone.

Good.

"Not bad," the pig demon growled, brushing away the last embers from his charred snout. His blackened tusks gleamed in the firelight.

"These backwater villages are usually a waste of time," the wolf mused, his jaws stretching unnaturally wide, almost like a grin. "But fighting a Summoned One… now that's interesting. Aren't you supposed to have some kind of special power?"

Daion's eye twitched.

"My sword flies."

"That's it?" The wolf's many eyes blinked in unison. "How disappointing."

Daion took a step forward. Confidence bled into his voice.

"Who's the one getting their ass kicked here?"

The monsters laughed.

Then their weapons came down.

Too fast.

Daion barely managed to raise his sword.

CRACK!

The ground beneath him shattered.

His knees buckled.

Pain shot through his chest—like his ribs had just snapped in half.

He coughed—more blood.

His confidence wavered.

The pig demon struck next, driving a lower arm into his gut like a sledgehammer.

Daion staggered, gasping for air.

The next slash missed his throat by an inch—only because he had instinctively jerked back.

Then the wolf was there.

A kick to the chest.

Daion's body launched backward, slamming into the cobbled street.

Right where the soldiers were waiting.

Groaning, he lifted his head.

They were still here.

Terrified—but gripping their spears with white-knuckled resolve.

He saw others in the distance, guiding the remaining villagers to safety.

Then, a man in heavy armor approached.

"Kid."

A gruff, battle-hardened voice.

"How much time do you need to evacuate?"

One of the younger soldiers beside him blinked in shock.

A Summoned One… actually fighting for them?

"Ten minutes," the soldier stammered.

Daion clicked his tongue.

"Then get ready."

A deep, unnatural crunch echoed through the ruins.

The monsters emerged from the dust.

"Ugh… more humans?" The wolf yawned, stretching lazily. "I just want to play with…" His voice dragged, lingering on the last word like a slow, creeping threat.

"The Summoned One."

Daion's stomach twisted.

The pig demon stepped forward, steam still rising from his face.

The soldiers tensed.

Then—

The wolf howled.

The world exploded.

A shockwave hammered through the air, rattling bones, shaking the earth.

Then the wolf's throat swelled—growing, expanding—until it looked like a grotesque, translucent balloon.

Inside, something pulsed.

Omega energy, swirling like a storm, building up into a sickening, ominous glow.

His jaws unhinged.

A second mouth opened beneath the first—like a blooming flower of flesh and fangs.

And then—

It fired.

BOOM!

A sonic blast ripped through the battlefield.

The soldiers didn't even have time to scream.

Their bodies convulsed, like invisible strings had seized them.

Then—silence.

They hit the ground.

Dead.

A ringing filled Daion's head. His ears throbbed.

When his vision refocused, he saw them.

Blood poured from their eyes and ears. Their faces frozen in horror.

The last embers of courage among the soldiers died instantly.

Some ran.

Others stood frozen in place.

Paralyzed by fear.

Only Daion, the bearded soldier, and a handful of men were still standing.

The wolf grinned.

"Now that's a real special ability."

Daion clenched his teeth.

"You bastard..."

His grip tightened around his sword. He lunged—

But the boar blocked his path.

Blades clashed in a flurry of brutal strikes. Daion ducked under a wild swing, twisted, and drove his weapon straight for the monster's torso.

Its gut—opened.

Rows of hidden fangs snapped out, catching the blade mid-thrust.

Daion's blood ran cold.

"Bad move, Omega spawn."

"What—?"

CRACK!

The jaws slammed shut.

Daion yanked his sword back—only for the tip to remain lodged between the creature's teeth.

A sickening snap.

His weapon—broken.

His mind barely registered it before—

THUD!

A hammering blow smashed into his left arm.

The sound of shattering bone was unmistakable.

White-hot pain exploded through him, from shoulder to fingertips.

A strangled cry tore from his throat. His fingers spasmed, releasing what remained of his weapon.

He hit the ground hard. Soldiers rushed to pull him up, but his entire arm was useless.

The wolf smirked.

"Alright," he drawled. "Let's end this."

His throat bulged again.

Those monstrous jaws unhinged.

This time—

They were aimed right at Daion.

End of Chapter 10.