Chapter 317: The Demon’s Demand

Kael eyes widened seeing the figure as he recognised him as the demon he saw back on planet Hevaria. The demon that had appeared right before Kael lost consciousness.

Draxos looked down at him with his face splitting into a slow smirk.

Kael didn’t hesitate.

Lightning Body activated—CRACKLE—his form blurring into a burst of blue-white electricity as he bolted straight for the gate. Every muscle in his body screamed at maximum output, his Spirit Soul Rank 1 mana surging through his pathways. The gate was fifty meters away.

Draxos appeared in front of the gate with blinding speed standing directly in Kael’s path, his massive wings folded behind him, his arms crossed.

"Where do you think you’re going?" Draxos’s voice was deep, resonant, carrying an amused lilt that made Kael’s skin crawl.

Kael immediately jumped back—WHOOSH—his feet skidding across the ground as he pivoted and ran in the opposite direction. His mind raced. That demon is bad news. I’d rather be anywhere else than here. Anywhere.

He turned to run, his body already accelerating, darkness gathering at his feet for a Shadow Step—

A hand clamped onto his shoulder.

GRIP.

A crushing, absolute force that slammed down on Kael’s body like the weight of a planet. His knees buckled—CRACK—the ground beneath him fracturing from the pressure alone. His Spirit Soul Rank 1 aura flared instinctively, pushing against the force, but it was like pushing against the ocean. His body locked up, every muscle frozen, his Lightning Body deactivating as the pressure disrupted his mana flow.

Draxos stood behind him, his massive hand gripping Kael’s shoulder with casual, effortless strength.

"Well, it seems you remember me." A low chuckle. "I also remember you." His grip tightened—CRUNCH—Kael’s collarbone creaking under the pressure. "Now tell me kid, are you of the Astraeon bloodline?"

The bloodline he carried, the bloodline of Damian, the dormant power sleeping in his soul. This demon knew the name.

Kael didn’t answer with words.

He clapped his hands together—CLAP—and a Gravity Push erupted from his body in a burst of gravitational force that expanded outward in a sphere. The ground around him shattered—BOOM—debris, dust, and broken stone launching in every direction. The pressure on his shoulder loosened as Draxos was pushed back, his boots—SKRT—dragging across the fractured earth, leaving trenches behind him.

Kael broke free. He spun around, putting ten meters between himself and the demon, his chest heaving.

"I don’t know what the fuck you want," Kael said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline screaming through his veins. "But—"

Some cultivators near the gate turned toward the commotion. Eyes narrowed. Whispers spread. Attacking someone now, at the gate? That means the target has something valuable. Something worth risking everything for.

Greed flickered in the eyes of several cultivators. But when they saw the three-meter-tall demon with horns and wings, that greed was immediately replaced by terror. Most turned away, quickening their pace toward the gate. A few lingered, watching from a distance.

Draxos chuckled, dusting his clothing. His eyes never left Kael. "You do have two things to lay down before you leave here." He raised one finger. "I’m going to need that Heavenly Flame."

Kael feigned ignorance. His expression flattened into genuine-looking confusion. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Draxos smiled. "I’m sure you have it. But no matter." He raised a second finger. "I’m also going to need your life." His smile widened. "You do share a lot of resemblance with some old enemies of mine."

Kael’s mind raced. Old enemies. Astraeon. He was one of the Asura Demons that Damian waged war against.

Kael reached into his storage. His right hand slid into the Special Grade gauntlet—CLICK—the artifact bonding to his flesh, its Aura Amplification humming to life. Golden light flickered along its surface, intertwining with the purple-black veins of his Demonic Asura Fire. His left hand drew the Shadow Slayer blades—SHING—the twin blades singing as they cleared their sheaths, their Blood-Iron Alloy thirsty for combat.

His aura blazed—FWOOM—a combined eruption of golden Aura, crackling blue-white lightning, and swirling darkness. The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered from the sheer pressure of his Spirit Soul Rank 1 presence.

"My life won’t come easy," Kael said, his voice cold, his silver-flecked eyes hardening into steel. "Even if you were a god."

Draxos chuckled, amused. "We’ll see about that." He held up one hand, palm open, fingers curled in a beckoning gesture. "Come then."

Kael rushed forward—WHOOSH—his Shadow Slayer blades descending in a diagonal cross slash. His body exploded into a burst of darkness—FWOOM—shadow phantoms scattering in every direction, blades swinging, afterimages of his form cutting through the air.

The real Kael appeared thirty meters to the left, sprinting at full speed toward the gate.

There is no way I’m fighting that monster. His physique alone surpasses my body cultivation. His speed is beyond anything I can match. This isn’t a fight. This is suicide.

Kael reached the gate. His hand stretched toward the crystalline surface—

FWEEE.

A giant formation glowed along the gate’s surface—BLAZE—a complex web of runes that lit up in purple-black, creating a barrier that sealed the entrance completely. Kael’s hand slammed into the formation and was repelled—ZAP—a shock of demonic energy throwing him backward.

Draxos smirked from where he stood, a rune glowing on his palm—HUMMM—its pattern matching the formation on the gate. "Do you think I’m foolish enough to fall for such tricks?"

Kael’s jaw tightened. The gate was sealed. No one was getting through while Draxos’s formation was active.

All the people at the gate—some who were about to enter and felt the gate block—turned toward the demon. Panic spread like wildfire. Cultivators scrambled, trying to flee in different directions, their survival instincts overriding everything else.

"RUN! THE GATE IS BLOCKED!"

"WHAT IS THAT THING?!"

Multiple bone spikes erupted from Draxos’s body—CRACK, CRACK, CRACK—jagged, white, spear-like projections that shot outward in every direction with terrifying speed. They impaled the fleeing cultivators without discrimination—SHLUK, SHLUK, SHLUK—punching through bodies, through barriers, through defensive talismans.

Blood sprayed everywhere—SPLAT—crimson mist filling the air as cultivators dropped like flies. A Peak Mana Heart cultivator was skewered through the chest, his body lifting off the ground before the spike retracted, dropping him in a heap. A rank 1 Spirit Soul cultivator was bisected at the waist, his upper half hitting the ground still screaming.

Draxos laughed. He looked at the carnage around him with the expression of a man watching rain fall on a garden. Blood dripped from the bone spikes retracting into his flesh—SCHLICK—his body absorbing the fluid through his skin.

His eyes turned back to Kael.

Kael activated Void Core—HUMMM—darkness gathering into his chest.

But before the activation could fully stabilize, a bone spike launched toward him—WHIZZ—moving at a speed that his enhanced perception barely tracked. Kael twisted his body, Lightning Body flaring—CRACKLE—dodging by centimeters. The spike grazed his waist—SLICE—cutting through his aura barrier and his flesh like paper. Blood sprayed from the wound.

Kael immediately sheathed his Shadow Slayer blades—CLICK—and pulled out the Elven Starwood Bow, the Special Grade weapon materializing in his left hand. His right hand drew the bowstring, dark mana and lightning mana fusing at his fingertips—CRACKLE, HISS—forming an arrow of swirling purple-black and blue-white energy.

Close combat with that thing is suicide. His physical stats dwarf mine. I need range.

The arrow fired—FWOOM—a streak of combined elemental fury that crossed the distance in an instant. The air screamed in its wake—SCREEEE—the pressure wave alone flattening the grass on either side of its trajectory.

Draxos raised both hands. His flesh morphed—SQUISH, RIPLE—muscles bulging, bones shifting beneath his skin, his arms expanding to twice their size. He caught the arrow—GRAB—his hands closing around the shaft of condensed energy. The force pushed him back—SKRT, SKRT—his feet carving trenches in the earth, the ground cracking beneath him. He stabilized, the arrow dissolving in his grip, and turned toward Kael with a smirk.

"Is that all?"

The words had barely left his mouth when the air above Kael erupted.

FWOOM. FWOOM. FWOOM. FWOOM. FWOOM.

Multiple arrows rained down toward Draxos from above, each one a condensed missile of dark lightning energy. Kael fired from the air, his body suspended by gravity manipulation, the bow singing with each release—TWANG, TWANG, TWANG—the sound blending into a continuous, shrieking rhythm.

Draxos looked up at the incoming barrage, his smirk faltering for the first time.