The Demon I [LEON]

The air itself was tainted.

A sickly, foul stench clung to the ruins like rotting filth, thick and suffocating.

The lizardmen trembled uncontrollably as their reptilian eyes widened with primal, gut-wrenching fear

Leon felt his stomach twist.

Something about this dark, suffocating presence…

It was unnatural.

And there it was.

Crouched in the darkness.

Its grotesque form hunched over something, moving with a sick, wet sound. Ripping. Gnawing. Slurping.

It was feasting.

The sound was obscene.

A dark, guttural growl rumbled from the thing’s throat as it ripped another chunk away.

The Scarred Lizardman stumbled backward, his foot knocking against something brittle.

A bone.

The snap echoed in the silence.

Leon’s breath hitched.

The Scarred Lizardman looked down, his hands shaking as he reached toward the ground.

His pupils dilated. His hands clamped around the fragile remains.

His heart stopped.

The lizardmen froze as realization dawned on them.

The missing children.

They had been brought here.

And now they were nothing but food.

The creature finally paused.

It knew they were there.

But it didn’t stop eating.

Slowly, ever so slowly, it turned its head.

Its face was a nightmare.

Large, curved black horns jutted from its skull, twisting into unnatural angles. Its skin was dark purple and it had jagged fangs.

And its eyes.

Deep, gleaming, blood-crimson. The same color as the Red-Eyed Shadow that had been killing Leon every single night.

His heart pounded violently.

It wasn’t the same. But that terrible, suffocating killing intent was similar.

The eldest triplet’s voice was strained.

“A… demon…”

The word hung in the air like a curse.

A sudden horrified gasp came from one of the lizardmen.

The Scarred Lizardman’s eyes widened in pure, maddened horror.

His gaze locked onto what remained of the children.

This was not just death.

This was slaughter. A massacre. A feast.

The demon grinned.

Its crimson eyes gleamed with pure, unholy amusement.

It spoke with a voice that was deep, guttural, laced with sadistic pleasure.

“Ahh…” it sighed.

It licked its lips, lapping up the blood.

“…Young lizardmen are quite the delicacy.”

Its smile stretched unnaturally wide.

Its claws twitched.

The lizardmen snapped.

They could no longer think, no longer strategize.

The demon’s words and remains of their young was all too much.

With feral rage, they charged.

"YOU BASTARD!!!"

It was not a coordinated assault.

There was no plan, no technique. Just pure, unrelenting vengeance.

But the demon only grinned.

It met them head-on, raising a clawed hand,

SLASH!

Its cut through lizardman as if they were nothing more than paper.

A sickening spray painted the cold stone walls in crimson.

The Scarred Lizardman roared, his eyes wild with pain and fury, and lunged at the demon.

But with a single, effortless swipe…

CRASH!

He was sent flying, his body smashing into the rubble like a ragdoll.

He did not move.

The rest of the lizardmen faltered.

No… no, no, no!

They were strong.

They had fought monsters before.

And yet,

The demon stood unharmed. Its crimson eyes gleaming with amusement.

Leon’s heart pounded violently.

He gritted his teeth.

"We cannot just watch them die."

The eldest triplet’s expression darkened.

His jaw clenched.

"Brothers. The concern of matching Leon and young lady Noel’s performance doesn’t matter now. The foe is too dangerous. Give this battle everything."

The triplets moved.

Their movements were sharp and calculated. It was deadly.

The youngest was the first to strike, his spear thrusting forward like a viper.

The middle triplet followed next, his twin-headed axe spinning with a speed that whistled through the air.

And then the eldest, his Warhammer raised high, aiming for a bone-crushing blow.

Leon followed immediately after along with his sword engulfed in raging flames.

And in the back was Noel.

She played the role of mage, supporting them with flawless precision.

A barrage of frozen spears shot forward, aiming to pierce the demon’s flesh.

The battle was ferocious.

Unlike anything Leon had ever experienced before.

Yet, even with their combined might,

The demon countered everything.

It sidestepped Leon’s burning sword with eerie grace, knocking him back with the back of its arm.

The triplet’s spear struck, only for the demon to grab it mid-air.

The middle triplet’s axe clashed against the demon’s arm, sending a shower of sparks flying but the demon retaliated, kicking him away.

The eldest brought down his Warhammer, striking the demon’s shoulder, shattering part of its skin.

The group pressed harder.

The battle was turning in their favor.

Until…

The demon screeched.

A piercing, nightmarish sound.

It wasn’t a simple roar.

It was a wave of pure, suffocating evil.

The sheer force rattled the air, shaking the ruins.

Leon felt it deep in his bones.

It corroded his mind, sending a sharp unbearable pain through his skull.

The triplets staggered.

The lizardmen collapsed, clutching their heads.

It was like their very souls were being drowned in despair.

Even Noel faltered, gasping for breath.

The demon’s laughter rumbled low and deep.

"Struggle, struggle, struggle," it purred.

"Your suffering is delicious."

Leon gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand.

No.

They weren’t done.

Not yet.

Then,

A miracle.

The Scarred Lizardman moved.

Gravely injured but not dead.

His body shook violently, but he forced himself to rise.

He staggered toward a fallen spear, clutching it tightly in his trembling hands.

His breath was shallow, ragged.

He was almost dead.

Yet, his eyes burned with determination.

His gaze locked onto Noel.

He needed her help.

The Scarred Lizardman raised a trembling finger.

He pointed at the spear’s tip.

Then, in a voice that barely existed, he rasped…

"Ma…na…Im…bue…"

The words were broken, weak, but clear.

Noel’s eyes widened.

Her hand clenched around her staff.

She understood.

Frost bloomed at her fingertips.

Frozen mana surged into the spear.

The spear froze instantly, turning into a weapon of absolute cold.

The Scarred Lizardman gripped it tight.

His body was falling apart, but he did not waver.

Leon also tightened his hands around his sword.

He had to know.

He had to understand.

Amidst the ferocious battle,

Leon turned toward the demon.

His voice was hoarse, filled with a burning demand.

"You…"

The demon’s eyes flickered toward him.

Leon’s heart pounded violently.

"You! Are you related to that entity?!"

The demon paused for a moment then it grinned.

“Hoh. A human… speaking our language?”

Its voice slithered like a serpent.

"Interesting. Indeed."

Leon’s hands trembled.

He raised his sword, his flames blazing hotter.

"Answer me!"

His voice was firm. Fierce. Unyielding.

"Are you connected to the Red-Eyed Shadow?"

Suddenly, the demon’s expression changed.

Something happened…