Chapter 37: Fighting the demons

The door of the carriage open, hitting the outer frame with a clatter.

Dante stepped out first, his boots sinking an inch into the hot black sand of the desert. The air outside was thick with the smell fresh blood. All around the carriage line, the transport caravan had ground to a complete halt. Several of the armored lizards pulling the carts were lying on their sides, thrashing violently with jagged bone spears stuck in their necks.

"Protect the carriage! Form a defensive circle!" a southern vanguard officer screamed from the left, but his voice was cut short as a volcanic axe split his iron helmet down the middle.

Hundreds of northern ambushers were pouring down the sandy ridges. They were shorter than the demons Dante had fought in the cavity, but their bodies were wider, covered in dark red plates that looked like hardened volcanic crust. They didn’t carry refined weapons; instead, they wielded big clubs and serrated blades forged from jagged volcanic rock.

Dante didn’t pull his hand out of his pocket yet. He stood next to the carriage wheel, his eyes tracking the movement of the attackers with a calm, calculated gaze.

’Their movements are heavy, but they use the slopes to gain momentum,’ Dante analyzed internally, his mind working smoothly despite his frozen status page. ’Without the system’s threat markers, I have to manually watch their eyes and weight distribution. Their armor looks thick, but the joints near the shoulders are completely exposed.’

A loud rustle of silk fabric sounded behind him as Esabella stepped down from the vehicle.

Her attractive eyes were glowing with a terrifying, absolute fury. The sweet, blushing expression she had inside the carriage was completely gone, replaced by the mask of a cold ruler whose territory had just been insulted. Her tail thrashed behind her, the switchblade-like bone barbs popping completely outward, clicking sharply as they scraped against the iron wheel.

"Filthy northern dogs," Esabella spat, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous register that made the nearest southern soldiers shiver. "How dare you interrupt my time with the King."

"Stay back," Dante said plainly, not looking at her. "I’ll clear the front line. Don’t crowd my movements."

Esabella’s tail twitched, a mix of possessive worry and excitement flashing in her eyes. "Dante, these aren’t regular scouts. The Blood-Gorged Clan infuses lava into their bloodline. Their armor will burn your bare hands if you touch them directly."

"I don’t plan on touching them," Dante replied smoothly.

Three northern soldiers spotted them, letting out deep, guttural roars as they lunged down the sand dune. They raised their heavy stone clubs high, their red eyes fixed entirely on Esabella’s exposed chest and Medusa skirt, recognizing her royal sigil.

Dante took a step forward, intercepting them before they could get within five meters of her. His right hand came out of his pocket, his fingers locked around the invisible grip of the Seven-Sins Asura Blade.

SLASH!

Even though the weapon couldn’t be seen, the sudden displacement of air created a sharp whistling sound. The invisible edge cut horizontally through the chest plate of the leading ambusher. The hardened volcanic crust offered no resistance at all, splitting open like wood.

The demon didn’t even have time to shriek before its body was sliced cleanly in half, its dark red blood spraying across the black sand. As its soul was dragged into the hilt, Dante felt a small, cool ripple of energy flow into his arm muscles. Since the weapon had been fully vented earlier, the weight was perfectly manageable, allowing his movements to remain lightning-fast.

The other two ambushers froze, their clubs stopping mid-air as they stared at their companion’s severed body. They couldn’t understand what had just cut him.

"What is that? He’s empty-handed!" one hissed.

Dante didn’t give them a chance to figure it out. He executed a quick Void Step, his body blurring to the side. He appeared directly between the two remaining demons, his invisible blade moving in a rapid, double vertical cut.

Puchi! Puchi!

Both monsters slumped into the sand, their heads sliding off their shoulders before their bodies even hit the ground.

While Dante was clearing the front, a fourth ambusher had managed to circle around the carriage, lunging toward Dante’s exposed right flank with a jagged stone dagger.

’SNAP’

A crack echoed through the air. Esabella’s long, thorn-vein whip shot out from her side like a black snake, wrapping tightly around the ambusher’s wrist. With a brutal yank of her arm, the thorns bit deep into the demon’s flesh.

"Argh!" the monster screamed.

Esabella didn’t just pull him back; her hips swayed gracefully as she pivoted on her heel, using the momentum to slam the ambusher hard against the side of the carriage. Before the demon could slide down, her bladed tail whipped forward with terrifying precision, the obsidian arrowhead tip piercing straight through the monster’s throat and pinning him to the wall.

She pulled her tail back casually, letting the dead body collapse into a heap of armor and blood. She looked at Dante, her eyes carrying a soft, adoring look. "I told you I wouldn’t slow you down, my King. Your right side will always belong to me."

Dante glanced at the dead demon at her feet, then back at the ridge. His face remained totally expressionless. "Just keep the small fries off my back."

The skirmish around the main transport sector was turning into a complete slaughter. With Dante cutting through the front line like an invisible reaper and Esabella’s whip tearing apart anyone who tried to flank them, the northern ambushers were completely losing their momentum. Over fifty red-armored carcasses already littered the black sand around the royal vehicle.

The remaining northern soldiers began to back away up the ridge, their white eyes wide with panic as they looked at the lone human who was killing their elite warriors without showing a single drop of sweat or a single spark of mana.

Suddenly, the continuous roaring of the battlefield died down.

A thudding sound echoed from the top of the highest sand ridge to the north. The black sand began to slide down the slope in massive sheets, vibrating as if something incredibly dense was walking up there.

Dante stopped his advance, lowering his invisible blade slightly as his eyes narrowed toward the crest of the hill.

A massive figure slowly walked out of the fog, looking down at the bloody mess around the carriage. It was a demon who stood nearly four meters tall, wearing black armor that was actively glowing red from the heat inside. In his right hand, he carried a massive, two-handed executioner’s axe made of solid volcanic glass, the edge pulsing with a greasy, dark red aura.

The retreating ambushers immediately dropped to their chests in the sand, their voices trembling with relief.

"Captain Akon!"

The giant elite captain didn’t look at his men. His glowing red eyes locked directly onto Esabella, then shifted toward Dante, a rumbling laugh shaking his chest plate.

"So the rumors from the cavity were true," Akon rasped, his voice sounding like grinding volcanic stones. "A little human rat actually crawled into the Basin. And our proud Queen is already sharing her carriage with it."