Sanctuary: Safe Haven-Chapter 384: Demon Lord Novair

Grimruk’s grip tightened around the haft of his axe as the manticore roared again, its massive frame lunging forward with primal fury. The beast’s acidic venom spewed from its tail, sizzling through the air. Grimruk stepped into the attack, his instincts sharpened by countless battles. He raised his axe just in time, deflecting the venom with the flat of the blade, the droplets splattering onto the ground, creating a hissing cloud of toxic vapor. The force of the impact pushed him back, but he held firm, digging his feet into the ground.

"Now, Igor!" Grimruk bellowed, his voice booming over the sound of the manticore’s roaring.

Igor wasted no time, chanting quickly under his breath as three summoning circles appeared in the air. From the first emerged a massive creature covered in thick, rock-like armor—a creature designed for brute force. It charged forward, locking into combat with the manticore, its colossal fists hammering the beast’s side. The second summoning circle released a sleek, winged creature, darting through the air, scouting and distracting the manticore with quick, precise strikes. The third summoned a creature adept in magic, a great calamity-ranked beast that shot fireballs at the manticore, keeping its attention divided.

Milly moved into position, her hands glowing with the earthen power she wielded so effortlessly. With a swift gesture, she summoned jagged spikes of stone from beneath the ground, launching them toward the manticore. The spikes tore into the beast’s flank, drawing a guttural roar of pain as its wings flapped wildly, trying to rise into the air. But Grimruk was already there, anticipating the move. He brought his axe down with a ferocious swing, the blade biting deep into the manticore’s wing, grounding the beast as it thrashed in agony.

For a moment, it seemed like they had the upper hand. The three warriors moved in perfect unison, every strike calculated, every blow coordinated. Grimruk tanked the damage, his sheer strength allowing him to stand toe-to-toe with the creature. Igor’s creatures provided crucial support, and Milly unleashed her devastating earth magic with surgical precision, exploiting the beast’s every weakness.

But just as victory seemed within reach, Grimruk’s sharp senses picked up something. In the distance, a dark shape loomed, followed by another.

"More incoming!" Grimruk shouted, his eyes narrowing as two more manticores closed in from the sky. Their roars echoed through the forest, causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet.

Without hesitation, Milly created a protective barrier of earth around them as the two new manticores landed with a deafening thud, their combined presence dwarfing the battlefield. Grimruk’s muscles tensed as the odds shifted dramatically. One manticore had been a challenge, but three true-calamity ranked beasts?

This was going to push them to their absolute limits.

The fight resumed, fiercer than before. Grimruk charged forward, meeting the first of the new manticores head-on, its claws slashing through the air. He blocked with his axe, but the force of the blow sent shockwaves up his arms. He grunted, forcing himself to stay on his feet. Behind him, Igor summoned another healing spell, tendrils of light wrapping around Grimruk’s injuries, closing the deep gashes before they could worsen.

"Focus!" Grimruk roared, swinging his axe in wide arcs. The second manticore lunged at Milly, but her earth spikes shot up just in time, stabbing into the creature’s underbelly. It howled in pain, rearing back, but Milly didn’t stop. She summoned more spikes, one after another, creating a relentless assault.

Igor, seeing Milly’s efforts, directed his magic-wielding beast to support her, launching fireballs at the manticore’s wounded side, keeping it at bay. His winged scout beast dove from the sky, targeting the other manticore that was circling Grimruk. The battlefield became a whirlwind of chaos, each warrior fighting with everything they had.

Despite their fatigue from countless battles, the three shock troops held their ground. Grimruk’s powerful strikes kept the manticores at bay, his unyielding resolve acting as a shield for his companions. Igor’s beasts fought with brutal efficiency, and Milly’s precise earth magic turned the terrain into a lethal weapon.

But it was no easy fight. The manticores didn’t just rely on brute strength—they were intelligent, working together to exploit the weaknesses of their opponents. Every time Grimruk pushed one back, the others would coordinate their attacks, aiming for the shock troops in an attempt to break their formation. Each roar from the manticores echoed with cunning, their eyes gleaming with predatory focus.

Finally, with one last coordinated effort, Grimruk, Igor, and Milly struck together. Milly’s earth spikes pierced the manticore’s heart as Igor’s summoned beasts crushed the second under their combined weight. Grimruk delivered a final, brutal blow to the third, his axe sinking deep into its skull. The creature collapsed, its massive body hitting the ground with a thunderous crash.

For a moment, silence fell over the battlefield. The three shock troops stood amidst the carnage, their breaths heavy, sweat pouring down their faces. The manticores were dead, but the toll the battle had taken was evident. Their bodies were battered, and even Grimruk—who had tanked most of the damage—felt the weariness in his bones.

"They fought differently," Milly panted, leaning on her staff for support. "They weren’t just acting on instinct. They coordinated their attacks…"

Igor nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "We’ve fought countless beasts, but these were different. They were... smarter."

Grimruk grunted in agreement. As they caught their breath, a shadow passed over them. They looked up, their eyes widening in disbelief.

Hovering above them was another manticore, this one far larger than the others. Its wings were dark, leathery, and vast. Its black fur bristled as it descended, landing heavily on the ground. This manticore was twice the size of the others, and the power radiating from it was unmistakable.

"A catastrophe rank," Grimruk muttered, his grip tightening around his axe. "Prepare to teleport. If that thing strikes, we won’t survive."

But to their surprise, the manticore didn’t attack. Instead, it stared at them with cold, calculating eyes before speaking, its voice deep and resonant. "My master is entertained," it said. "No one has come here in this domain for a ’talk’ before."

Grimruk slowly lowered his axe, watching as the manticore turned and began to walk away. Its massive wings folded against its back as it moved. Read the latest on novelbuddy

Igor stepped closer to Grimruk, his voice low and urgent. "Are you sure about this, Grimruk?"

Grimruk nodded, his gaze never leaving the manticore. "We follow."

With a shared look of caution, Igor and Milly followed Grimruk’s lead, though they remained ready to teleport back to the sanctuary at the first sign of danger.

After what felt like an eternity, the manticore led them to the gates of a towering castle. Without a word, it took to the skies and disappeared into the clouds. The gates creaked open, revealing a dark and foreboding path within. Grimruk, Igor, and Milly hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside, their weapons at the ready.

As soon as they entered, the gates slammed shut behind them with a resounding crash. The tension in the air was thick, their senses heightened. They moved forward cautiously, their eyes scanning every shadow.

Suddenly, red eyes gleamed from the darkness ahead. They stopped in their tracks, the pressure of unseen eyes bearing down on them. Grimruk took three steps forward, feeling the weight of a presence he couldn’t yet see.

A voice, cold and mocking, echoed from the shadows. "You are in the presence of the Demon Lord Novair, the 12th demon lord of this world. The only reason you lowlives are still breathing is because my master is curious. Now, speak."

The voice dripped with disdain, its very tone antagonizing them. "What could worms like you possibly want?"

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A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and imposing, its skin pale and its eyes glowing with malice. Grimruk recognized it immediately—this was no ordinary being. "A demon," he muttered under his breath.

The demon sneered. "Speak, or I’ll crush you myself."

Grimruk steeled himself, his voice unwavering. "I have come on behalf of my master. A Harbringer and—"

Before he could finish, the castle itself seemed to shake as if the very ground trembled in response to his words. The air grew thick with power, and a voice, raspy and ancient, cut through the silence.

"A Harbringer, you say?" the voice echoed.

Grimruk nodded, his eyes narrowing as the weight of the presence grew stronger.

"Then what does a Harbringer want from me?" The voice grew closer, footsteps echoing through the chamber until finally, the light revealed the figure of the Demon Lord himself.

The Demon Lord stepped into view, his skin deathly pale, his eyes glowing crimson. He was tall and regal, but there was something sinister in his every movement. His fangs gleamed in the dim light, revealing his vampiric nature. As Grimruk studied him, he realized with a sinking feeling that this being wasn’t just a demon lord—he was of Disaster Rank.