Myriad Devils-Chapter 197: The pitiful contracted daemon

The purple cloud of many thousands of meters in diameter showed a unique battlefield. There were multiple small mountains of corpses atop the purple cloud. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Previously, the battlefield between him and the knight was filled with broken and shattered blades, and the battles before... however, Anon did not care about these things.

Yet, he could not help but curiously ponder on these small mountains of corpses. They were simply too attention-grabbing to simply ignore.

As the two purple clouds fully intersected and locked in place, the two drifters from either ends of the battlefield, approached each other.

Anon dragged a longsword with one hand, however, the purple cloud was elusive in nature so there was no sound and the longsword merely cut through the cloud.

On the other hand, the daemon appeared quite relaxed. His main pair of hands interlocked fingers as he twisted his body and stretched, yawning as he approached the swarthy-skinned youth.

As the two appeared before the other, one looked all the way down, and the other bent their neck and looked all the way up.

They were rather close to each other, almost seeming to not care about personal space. This was a danger to any warrior at this stage.

Such a close range was simply asking for trouble, and yet, neither seemed to care.

The daemon had four demonic black eyes with ruby-red gems as pupils. They struggled to suppress the carnage that he was brimming in excitement to unleash.

"Human." The daemon’s voice was inherently harsh and scratchy.

Anon found that the daemon’s tone was slightly different form the previous one, intriguing him slightly. He concisely asked, "What?"

The daemon grinned.

Anon barely had time to react before two fists landed squarely against his left side. The right fists of the two arms on the daemon’s back came crashing down with endless might.

Anon was sent flying.

Only after sending Anon flying did the daemon bellow out with pleasure, "Take my fists!"

The daemon cackled madly and crouched slightly.

The entire purple cloud battlefield trembled as the daemon burst forth with immense speed.

Anon immediately stabilized himself in the air and came to an abrupt halt.

The longsword in his hand transformed into a stream of dark, red, and silvery light which blocked the incoming beastly attacks.

The two exchanged thousands of moves in that moment.

Soon after, they were both standing at an edge of the purple cloud.

"Even more shameless than Blood Fiend." Anon spat with disgust. He had already experienced Blood Fiend. Naturally, he would not fall for the same trick again, otherwise, that would simply be too sorry on his part.

The initial burst of attacks resulted in a stalemate, however, the daemon did not appear to be annoyed by that.

The daemon raised its fist and observed them with intrigue. Wherever the longsword had cut during that previous exchange, the flesh was now rotting before his eyes, and blood continuously attempted to ooze out of his body.

Lightly shaking his arms, a frosty aura appeared in his vicinity before both of his hands and forearms were frozen within blocks of ice that shattered into fragments.

Thereafter, one of the small mountains of corpses released a light hum. From that hum, a strange energy fell onto the daemon and his arms quickly regrew.

"Interesting..." Anon smiled.

Besides his longsword, even his hands which held the longswords were frozen to the hilt.

A frighteningly ghastly energy pierced into his bloodstream and deep into his bone marrow, attempting to freeze his blood and shatter his bones.

Whether due to the chill or something else, his body trembled slightly. Thereafter, the cold energy dispersed and the frost was shattered.

Tilting his head in doubt, the daemon was amused by Anon’s resistance.

"Human."

This time, they were separated by the space of the entire battlefield. It was difficult for the daemon to launch another sneak attack.

"There is no need to resist. No matter how hard you try, there is no way to defeat me." The daemon said this without a smile, nor was there any arrogance in its eyes.

The monstrous daemon genuinely believed so.

Anon saw this daemon’s expressions and chuckled out loud.

"Daemon, do you expect me to lie down and accept death? And more importantly, I doubt it very much, that you can defeat me."

The daemon seemed stunned by Anon’s question. It nodded its head and cackled madly.

"You creatures always force my hand." The daemon shouted. "You can die now!"

Saying so, the daemon made several hand signs with each of its six hands.

The multiple small mountains of corpses, six in total, trembled as corpses tumbled and rolled before forming six corpse giants.

They surrounded Anon in an instant.

Anon immediately rushed towards one of the flesh giants. Simultaneously, six fists rocketed towards his figure.

Evading one, dodging two, he parried the third and blocked the fourth, however, the fifth fist crushed into him, and the sixth smashed him into the purple cloud.

Anon spat out a mouthful of blood before standing up, but he did not lose his will.

Thereafter, he repeated his previous action.

The flesh giants had formed an inescapable net around him.

Even with their large and seemingly clunky bodies, under the control of the daemon, they worked in perfect unison, like extensions of the daemon’s limbs.

However, Anon could not be easily categorized in the daemon’s list of opponents.

He was crushed under the weight of the flesh giants’ fists, and he was smashed into the ground of the purple cloud battlefield.

He struggled greatly in the beginning; however, he was a cockroach that could not stay down.

Even when his body was mangled, blood light would fall from above, and his cells would regenerate at a rapid pace.

At the same time, memories of the hundred rounds of combat with the knight, along with the thirty-six scales of dragon formation was continuously repeated in his mind realm.

His mastery over the longsword continuously skyrocketed.

For he who had already achieved true mastery over the staff, and the core of true mastery over the spear, it was not difficult in the slightest to achieve mastery of the sword.

With someone like that knight to draw from, and to use the six giants as whetstones, Anon swiftly arrived at pseudo-true mastery.

By now, even the daemon had realized the strangeness that was taking place.

The flesh giants were loosing their effectiveness. More than that, they were taking more and more damage instead.

"Must you really force my hand?" The daemon growled in a low voice.

At the same time, it felt a chill wash over its heart. Ever since, there was always that desire to return to that power, and to embrace that coldness.

This was a daemon that considered itself to be gifted in the true magic of flesh-craft, and yet it had no evil treasure to assist in empowering its innate gift.

At the same time, it had ended up drawing the gaze of something frightening.

To truly understand this daemon’s situation, one must have a little understanding of daemons in general...

In the infernal realm, there were many unimaginable creatures. It was actually common to stumble upon a creature so powerful that it was nonsensical...

And yet, in such a place, besides the unspeakable existences, there were four that were titled as Apocalypse, and twelve that were given the title of Antigod.

These were existences much more unimaginable than the unimaginable creatures.

What was more, was that, these twelve Antigods, and the four Apocalypse... they were the origin of true magic.

To draw power from the infernal realm was to draw power from these creatures!

Usually, humans could only do so through attracting such a creature’s gaze and thereafter amplify the power they could draw with the assistance of a grimoire.

However, daemons, on the other hand, did not need to draw such a creature’s gaze, and could attract power very naturally.

Evil treasures and even the grimoire amplified this power and made it flow even smoother.

However, since daemons were the true originators of magic, there were other ways for daemons to draw out more power as well.

Just as humans had geniuses, the daemon race also had their own geniuses.

Unlike the human race however, geniuses of the daemon race had a rather difficult time in actualizing their potential.

Once drawing the gazes of the Antigod and Apocalypse, it was a natural occurrence to find genius daemons contracted to these terrifying existences.

These contracts had a common tendency between them, and that were the souls of the daemons which were at play.

A genius daemon’s soul was greatly valued in the eyes of these creatures, and the entire daemon race for that matter.

Daemons would not readily make contracts since these contracts always tend to involve their souls...

But if a daemon did in fact make a contract, then the power they wielded through this contract would be umpteenth times greater than any other of their kind, or humankind.

The six-armed daemon felt a tinge of unwillingness.

He was, after all, one such genius daemon, and even more damning, he wasn’t contracted to some origin of flesh grafting true magic which it considered itself talented in.

This true magic...

The more power he used from this true magic, the faster he would reach a certain limit that was already specified in the contract.

He was naturally unwilling.

But this world continuously forced him to.

He regretted stepping foot into this damnable world.

He considered himself inherently talented at flesh-craft magic, but he always had to rely on that forbidden magic instead.

Even now, this human was forcing him to wield this forbidden power.

Indeed, this power was infinite, so his victory was assured, but in the process of attaining victory, what would be left of him after wielding this infinite power was a fate worse than death.

Yet still, the corpses that made up the six flesh giants deteriorated and the six flesh giants disassembled themselves.

In the air above the battlefield, and on the surface of the purple cloud, indistinguishable power of coldness churned and daemonic patterns formed.

The coldness was piercing.

Anon felt his movements become slower, the flow of his blood slowed, his thinking slowed, and even the flow of time seemed to slow down.

A ferocious frosty aura swallowed the entire purple cloud battlefield, like a towering wave slamming down onto a pitiful child.