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Chapter 502 - Fangs Bared
🕑 Added 2025-05-31 11:51:15 +0000 UTCThe goat demon was a surprise that not even Viers anticipated. He had no idea how such a being appeared in front of his eyes today. He’d put his money on the demon being sealed either under the castle or in the land sometime in a long, bygone past. It was the common groove but he didn't discard other avenues. Perhaps the big, bipedal, four-armed goat had been summoned, or conveniently revived from old wounds because of the blood spilled today; those were pretty common motifs too.
It took Viers by surprise. Not only Viers, but the whole battlefield. The demon’s emergence had flipped the entire chess board and the risk had grown many fold.
Viers was itching to soul search a certain individual. If there was someone who would have information about the demon who called himself Sal Marag, it would be Delmar Acre, the late Level 5 castellan of Grandia Castle. Alas, with how limited he was because of the slave seal, that option was unavailable for him.
The army was running away. There was no other choice. No matter how proud the knight or the soldier, they knew they would be less than Arte-fodder. Such was the power of the demon. Only Level 5 Pathseeker had the right to stand on that stage. The supporting actor had to evacuate for this was no longer a fight between men. A demon had crashed the party and he didn't care about rules or decorum. They were all prey now. The Level 5s from both sides had joined hands for containment. All thanked the Goddess when they saw it was working.
For now.
Viers knew the pattern. The demon was like a man who had just woken up from a deathly sleep. He was at the bottom of his strength, but after a while, when the brain woke, the blood was pumping, or the belly filled, Sal Marag would be beyond these mortal Pathseekers to handle. This was known.
We’ve gotta get out of here!
The million-dollar question was how strong the demon actually was. The way he saw it, even at his weakest, eight Level 5s, the cream of the crop from both two major human nations, hadn't even made him bleed!
Therefore, the best-case scenario was that the demon was equivalent to Level 6. The fact remained that even so, they were fucked!
Viers was carried by Sakuya on her back like he were an invalid. He might as well be one currently so he didn't resist. Being carried allowed Viers the privileges of turning his neck and surveying the battlefield.
The spectacle of the Level 5s hitting the goat demon the size of a skyscraper with the full might of their Artes was something that most people wouldn't have the fortune or misfortune to see for their whole lives. More than half of the eight Level 5s were fighting with their Palladion Icon manifested, the Level 5 exclusive ability after Level 4’s Imaginary Domain. It was the very definition of epic. The sky looked like it was raining fire. The wound on the earth would leave scars that would last for centuries.
And yet, despite their awesomeness, Viers wasn't going gaga about it. Most people around him looked like they had been soul drained, realizing they were small people in a very big world and felt smaller because of it. Viers, though, had seen more epic fights in his Fables.
He had seen Sun Wukong fighting the army of the Heavens, how Goku had battled an enemy that could destroy planets as early as the Namek arc, and how Fang Yuan triumphed against all the Heavenly Court could muster.
Viers had firsthand experience, too. When he was just a Level 0 or 1, the demigod bull had fought a sky-shattering battle with its eastern immortal pursuers. The fight back then was even greater than this. The immortals all died and so did the bull, striking each other down. Viers scavenged the remains like a vulture and gained massive benefits.
With the way I’m now, I can't even fish in troubled waters. Too risky. What a shame.
What he saw today wasn't enough to shake him. He would get there eventually. His faith in this matter was indomitable.
After a few moments seeing the greatest conflict on the battlefield, Viers surveyed other matters, such as the fleeing Harkelans and Latiasi.
As expected, the Empire’s men were worse off, especially ones defending the Grandia Castle from behind its walls. When the demon emerged, it became ground zero. Most would be paralyzed and not only because of the mental shock but because a being of that degree of power naturally incite such sensation, an existential pressure. The battle-hardened Pathseekers might be able to get clear before the demonic corruption infected them or the destructive Artes landed on top of their heads.
Viers hoped the future problem that was Stratos Gaelos would be among the dead but he wasn't holding his breath. A guy like that, they would meet again. Their karma had not been concluded.
The brave knights that served as the tip of the spear that entered the castle met the same fate as Harkelan defenders. How unfortunate. Still, the Harkelans were hit much worse. After his rip and tear, Aldebaran Shadow, then the demon popped up from under their asses. It almost made Viers show genuine sympathy towards the poor invading imperial soldiers. Almost.
“Incoming!!”
Viers saw it and cursed. The goat demon whirled a house-sized black fireball at a Harkelan Level 5. He dodged and the fireball was careening towards Viers’ direction.
“Defensive positions!” Croix roared.
Dodging was not an option so defense. But the power of that black fireball was at the very least Level 5 Arte.
They wouldn't survive a direct hit.
The fireball of death was shot before Viers’ very eyes by innumerable Artes. It exploded in the air. The explosion was still great and claimed the ones unlucky enough but the worst case scenario had been prevented.
“What in the world...”
Croix tried to see the hand of their salvation while the snow and dust were still unsettled.
“There, on the cliff!” Someone said, with a voice bordering disbelief.
It was an army, flying the banner of the Kingdom of Latias. In the forefront, a young woman, accompanied by a juvenile black dragon.
“Reinforcements! It’s the Red Army! Uooooooooh!”
The man’s cheer was contagious and hope had been rekindled.
***
Princess Celestine Amethyst Latias, 49th princess of the Latias Kingdom, in all of her eighteen years of life, had never seen anything like this. Granted her life was quite young compared to the others in the war hosts she led, but the faces of people three times her senior spoke that they’d also never seen anything like this.
That was only natural, she thought. Who in their right mind would expect to fight a goat demon with a size so big it could stomp cities underfoot?
And her plans had been going so smoothly.
Because of the invasion, the Grand Prix was halted. Unlike her-half brothers, Lutz and Croix, hot-headed and short-sighted like young men are, she knew more royal boots on the ground wasn't the right solution.
Oh, she didn't have any delusions. The invaders had to go.
The elegant solution was how to move the pieces on the board and position herself to be right below the laurel that would fall after victory.
So unlike them, Princess Celestine went in the opposite direction to treat the Chancellor, the same Chancellor who was her political enemy and someone who had been actively preventing the princes and princesses of the previous king from obtaining the crown.
Her people had said that she had woven a miracle by the successful negotiation.
It certainly wasn't easy, Celestine thought. Strings had to be pulled and concessions made, no matter how silver her tongue was. The man was a relic of a bygone age that still refused to acknowledge that a new age had come. The politics inside the Red Capital was a viper’s nest and Celestine had wrangled the snakes with the deftness of a snake charmer.
While the men were fighting for glory in the smoking battlefields, Celestine talked with great figures and wrote letters. There were some who saw her as a mere slip of a girl at the old boy’s game.
Latias. Patriarchy. Tradition.
Girls were supposed to get married, serve their husbands, and bear lots of children. Boys as heirs or spares, girls as pretty chattel to be sold for the greatest benefit.
Celestine wasn't shy of stepping on their toes with a polite smile. Most of them were unaware that they had lost until she pulled the rug from under them. Making someone fall from grace was not quite so difficult when the person was never graceful to begin with.
At the end of a labyrinthe of human relationship of profit, grudge, and ego, she had houses sworn to her cause. Calling it difficult was a gross understatement but nobody wanted the Empire to win.
After acquiring an army, she went west to Grandia Castle, where the fate of the Harkelan invasion would be decided, with it, the fates of two nations.
Her ability to bridge space allowed her army unparalleled mobility. She would be able to arrive at the right time. She expected the Empire would have bloodied Duke Valentine’s army. The Duke was facing superior numbers with a hastily raised army after all.
The best-case scenario was that she arrived just after the duke’s army had been beaten. Then the cavalry would win the dawn back from the darkest night.
After she’d beaten the Empire, her popularity would have soared to the skies. With her power bloc, her ascendance to the throne was practically assured.
Except, when she arrived at the battlefield, she didn't find a defiant Harkelan army entrenched behind castle walls but found a hellish scene from a painting instead.
Just as Stratos said, warfare is almost never a tidy affair... Well, all is in chaos but I can work with this.
Serena made a happy sound as she laid eyes on the red dragon that Croix bonded with. Celestine was glad that Serena found a kindred friend but also sad that she’d had to kill the red dragon if Croix would not accept his loss with grace.
Celestine’s army had begun to mobilize. They focused on aiding the nearby Latias forces. The generals were discussing the demon, their optimal move and what measures they should take.
She was the leading figure but there were many men capable of leading their household troops. When the battle started, it had been decided she would take a back line. She might be a skilled diplomat and had some skill as a Pathseeker but she had never fought a war or led an army. That she didn't need to be asked to delegate command was seen as wisdom by her supporters.
“I feared misfortune had fallen upon Sir Stratos, Your Highness,” Solany Lucan said. “He’d never failed to miss regular contacts and even now I am unable to sense his location.”
“I trust in Sir Stratos’ ability and that he would prevail even with a catastrophe of that magnitude on the field,” Celestine said while giving a hard look at the demon. The Level 5s were still bombarding them and she believed the demon was unable to move. She needed more information.
“Let us exchange words with a dear brother of mine.”
“Wait,” Solany frowned. “Something’s happening.”
***
The demon opened his mouth and began to inhale.
It created suctions that could be felt from hundreds of meters away. Men and women in armor went into his mouth, screaming. Their paltry attempt to resist was futile. Not only that, the area around him turned barren and grey, as he drank the essence of the land.
Because of the interfering flying insects, Sal Marag lost the human with the delicious smell. It irked him. With this act, he hoped to catch the delicious-smelling human too but that didn't seem to be the case.
Sal Marag directed his annoyance to the flying insects.
With his power slightly restored from the snacks, he swatted down the insects with speed that beggars belief despite his massive size. The insects were scattered, some even hurling towards the horizon.
Finally, some peace.
The demon closed his eyes and continued draining vitality from the earth, he’d need a lot more power to break the chains that still bound half of his body. At the nearest forest of Grandia Castle, hundreds of trees began to wither and were reduced to dust. The influence spread like a tide. Monsters and humans that were caught within the demon’s drain turned into blackened stone without a single mote of vitality. A grim reaper’s scythe.
The crisis was approaching rapidly towards Viers’ location.
And yet it wasn't the greatest priority. There was a higher danger on his priority list.
Rostov the Blanket had crash-landed not twenty meters away from his location after the goat demon swatted him away.
Worse still, Rostov didn't suffer any major injury and was undoubtedly fighting fit.
The Level 5 met eyes with Viers, who was clinging to Sakuya's back.
“Call me mad, but I have this strangest feeling,” Rostov’s gaze was cold and piercing. “That you have something to do with all of these.”
This time, there was nowhere to run. Viers knew in his bones. He, bereft of his strength as a Level 4, had to face a Level 5 and survive with just the cultivation of Level 0. Also, this guy was holding the master command to his slave seal.
All right then. It is bound to happen at some point, surpassing insurmountable odds, like a proper MC does. So be it.
Viers bared his fangs.
Comments
Flufflez
Viers bared his fangs, radiated menace... and told Sakuya to run faster. Viers truly knows how to be a xianxia MC. He doesn't just run from old folks who bully their juniors. He doesn't just have a harem. He has a harem that helps him run from dishonorable elders. He truly is a master of the fables. I don't know if this is actually what will happen, but it's a funny image.
BlackRazaras
Thanks for the chapter
