Battle Against the Demon's Part 1

Raindrops kept falling endlessly, soaking every leaf and trunk of the towering trees that grew densely in the forest.

His mane was drenched, caked with mud, yet the cold could not pierce the flesh and hide as tough as steel. From the tip of his muzzle dripped a green, sticky fluid, the fresh trace of a monster that had just become his prey.

Each step he took left deep marks on the damp, soft earth. His gaze cut straight through the mist and rain, sharp and unshaken, as if nothing in this world could stand in his way.

Suddenly, he stopped. He lifted his head, staring up at the gray sky, letting the rain wash over his face. His eyes slowly closed, and from the corner of his muzzle appeared a faint twitch, forming a thin curve filled with silent bitterness.

“…”

All that could be heard was the soft patter of rain falling, like fine needles piercing through leaves and soil. All that could be smelled was the scent of moss and mud rising from the earth.

Amid the piercing cold, the uneven rhythm of falling rain brought an odd sense of peace, as if it lulled the restless storm within him. For a moment, even his wild instincts were calm.

Enough. I must get out of this forest as soon as possible.

He began walking again.

The forest was silent. No beasts or monsters wandered in the rain. The cold air and the constant drizzle were their natural enemies. Only reptiles remained active in such weather.

After walking for a long while, his brow furrowed as he surveyed his surroundings. At last, he stopped completely when his eyes caught three long claw marks on the trunk of an acacia tree. His eyes widened.

Impossible...

He turned in circles restlessly before leaping through the thick bushes on his left. There, beneath a large tree, he found a mound of dry grass—his own resting place for the past several years.

His jaw clenched tight, his claws dug into the ground.

How could I return to this place again and again?

As his fury swelled, the rain suddenly eased. The wall that restrained his rage crumbled.

“Awoooooo!”

A savage howl tore from his mouth, echoing through every corner of the forest. The wind whirled around him like a tempest, uprooting trees whose roots had long anchored them to the earth.

“Don’t mock me! How do I escape this forest?!”

His tail lashed violently, his roar thundered through the storm, and his claws ripped apart everything before him. Monsters fled their lairs. Birds scattered into the sky.

All fled in panic from the king who had lost control of his wrath.

“Cursed forest! Damn this fate! I’ll devour and tear apart the wretched destiny that toys with me!”

He destroyed everything in his path, and in moments, the heart of the forest lay bare from his rampage.

His breath came hard and heavy. His eyes blazed red, burning with an unending hunger. But his steps halted when he saw two small goblins crouching before him in terror.

With a deep exhale, Sirius regained a sliver of calm.

He glanced behind him. New shoots sprouted from the soil, growing at an incredible speed to replace the trees he had just destroyed.

His teeth ground together. How long will I be trapped in this forest?

Months ago, Sirius had decided to leave the forest to find the woman in his memories. Yet after weeks of walking, he always ended up back where he started.

Not once, but countless times. Even when he tried to outsmart the forest by walking straight ahead, the result was always the same. It was as if the forest itself was obsessed, refusing to let him go.

A quiet regret stirred within him. He began to wonder what might have happened if he had accepted Valeria’s offer instead of rejecting it for his fragile conviction.

Perhaps... Lady Valeria was right. I should have accepted it then.

Sirius stood in silence, staring at the dark soil beneath his feet.

Before he could sink deeper into thought, his nose caught a sharp scent in the air. Someone—or something—was approaching.

He hid within the shadows using his ability. His breath slowed, and he waited in silence.

After a brief moment, three figures appeared, tearing through the dim haze of the forest.

One of them had four arms with long claws. His tail bore a stinger like that of a scorpion. His dark skin gleamed with the hard sheen of an insect’s exoskeleton.

“Hey, is the rumor about this forest true? I mean... even since I was a child, I’ve never heard of this place spawning a monster on par with a high-level demon.”

“From what I’ve heard, half of the guild members from Lysvarn City have been devoured here over the past few years,” replied a woman whose form defied simple description.

Her upper body resembled that of a normal woman, with shoulder-length pink hair and sharp, striking features. Unfortunately, the two horns on her head and the equine body beneath her waist made her unmistakably a centaur.

“Can that information be trusted, Gurhalla?” asked a man with long white hair. He looked more humanoid than the other two, though his entire body was lined with curved, rib-like bones that looked razor-sharp.

“Of course,” Gurhalla replied curtly. “Our master’s informant is very reliable. Besides, another informant said that the annoying vampire who does as she pleases visited this forest a few months ago.”

Hidden within the shadows, Sirius listened silently. He realized the vampire they spoke of was likely Lady Valeria, who had visited him not long ago.

The scorpion-like one raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t that mean we’re late?”

The woman burst out laughing, clutching her stomach.

“No need to worry, Mbuemo. Have you forgotten that ugly vampire is terrible at negotiation? She never manages to recruit any monster she targets. She’s too soft. If not for her power and bloodline, she’d never deserve the title of captain.”

“Perhaps you’re right, Gurhalla.”

The three of them laughed loudly, their mouths spouting mockery toward Valeria without end.

Beneath the bushes, Sirius’s claws dug into the ground. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t bear hearing Valeria—the only one who had ever spoken kindly to him—insulted by those far weaker than himself.

Mocking someone far stronger behind their back. The kind of incompetence I despise the most.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. He wanted to listen a little longer to learn what they planned before deciding what to do with them.

Their laughter gradually faded. Mbuemo turned back to Gurhalla. “So... how do we convince him to join us?”

“Convince him?” Gurhalla sneered. “Why not just beat him until he’s obedient? Like we always do, right, Lurik?” She glanced at the man beside her.

“I agree.” He clenched his fist, cracking his knuckles. “Let’s make that demon—no, that monster—cry.”

“How cruel. You don’t even see him as our equal.”

Their laughter returned, echoing wickedly, until a dark shadow burst from the thicket and lunged straight toward Mbuemo.

Wush.

“Aaaaaargh!”

Mbuemo’s scream tore through the air as fresh blood spurted from his arm, which had been ripped clean off.

Gurhalla and Lurik froze. Their heads turned stiffly, their mouths sealing shut when they saw Sirius calmly devouring Mbuemo’s arm.

“It tastes disgusting,” he said, his gaze as sharp as blades. “Just like your true nature.”

“Y-you—”

Gurhalla took a step back, while Lurik and Mbuemo, trembling in fury, charged forward.

“How dare you!” Lurik’s right hand glowed red, forming a spear with countless blades at its tip.

Mbuemo transformed one of his hands into a spiked claw resembling a mantis’s scythe.

“Wait, both of you!”

Gurhalla shouted a warning, but it was too late. The two of them had already leapt forward, their weapons aimed straight at Sirius.

“Feel our wrath!”

A sharp grin spread across Sirius’s muzzle, revealing his gleaming fangs like blades. His gaze was cold, filled with certainty.

You will die, demons.