CHAPTER 477: BREAKING THE RED MIST PT. 2

Roland rushed out and was immediately met by more than a few demons.

Ahead, he saw an entire brigade advancing toward them.

Truthfully, Roland had been hoping for more, far more demons.

Yet, this number of demons would not be enough to stop him, though dealing with them all would take too long.

Still, that did not mean he would leave without causing heavy casualties.

He unleashed Twilight Maelstrom once more, this time draining several of the mana stones embedded in his blades until they gave out completely.

Roland knew he would need to replace them, but this was the greatest damage he could manage under the circumstances.

Each weapon carried six stones, placed with precision on the hilt, pommel, and blade, two on each part.

Because of this, he was limited in how often he could draw on their strength.

Using them also weakened the weapons themselves, but if a few thousand demons could be cut down with only a handful of slashes, it was worth the cost.

Roland spun his swords in a chaotic, whirling dance, channeling the unstable energy until the blades roared with enough force to unleash the Maelstrom he had used once before.

He then sent the skill with both darkness and light elements crashing into the horde as they charged forward.

The facility producing the red mist could not allow thousands of demons to pour out at once.

They had to funnel through the building properly to reach him, still stationed on the second floor.

His attack struck just before they could break through.

"I hate to say it," Roland muttered, his voice heavy, "especially when I know so many humans are here. But we need to teleport to the next base... Lucien, let’s go."

He cast one final glance at the captives they were leaving behind.

The decision tore at him, but there was no time.

Stella and the others depended on him to draw the brunt of the demons if they were to survive their own battles.

Roland and Lucien were tossed to another sector of the capital, this one near a vampire-infested concentration camp where humans were being used as cattle. This time, however, it was clear things would not be simple.

"Lucien... go back to Stella. I’ll handle things here. Having you with me... well, to put it plainly, it puts me in danger. So protect Stella for me at all costs. I can handle a few thousand demons now."

Roland rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and readied himself.

"Are you sure? Can you really handle them?" Lucien asked.

Before them stretched a grim sight. Demons surrounded the building Roland needed to reach.

Not hundreds, they were thousands and all of them were stationed in wait for whoever dared to appear.

"It’s fine. Just go, and make sure the others are safe," Roland said firmly.

He called out again, urging his brother-in-law to move. He needed Lucien out of the way.

"Fine," Lucien relented. "But don’t die or get hurt like last time, or Stella will kill me..." With that, he used his magic once more and teleported away.

Roland shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he thought about the kindness the two siblings had always shown.

The prince and princess were the same in that regard.

His gaze shifted back to the swarm of demons. Somehow, they had known about his plan. He was still piecing it together when a familiar voice reached him.

[Finally, I found you. That damn teleportation spell from the prince whisked you away before I could catch up to tell you. Anyway, I brought most of these demons here by telling them you’d attack this place. So make it flashy. I know you want your wife and the others safe, so you’ll have the hardest fight here.]

Norelli quickly admitted that he was the one who leaked where Roland would strike.

Roland caught the exasperation in Elios’s voice, but the Monarch of Light said nothing more.

"I guess I’ll have to thank you... Now it’s time to do some serious damage here."

Roland began calculating how much mana he had left and how many times he could unleash Twilight Maelstrom. He had already used it twice, which had drained nearly half his reserves after casting other skills.

"Two more times... Elios, what do you think? Will two more be enough?" Roland asked his spirit companion, hoping for guidance on how to kill the demons efficiently.

[It will have to do. And Norelli, you owe me for luring these demons here. So, make sure you kill as many of them as possible.] Elios replied in a sharp, cutting tone.

[I know, but it wasn’t me who planned to kill your previous queen. It was that crazy one, Azragor. He’s probably the one you’re looking for, Elios. Just make sure you take him out soon. I don’t want that monster gaining any more power than he already has.]

"Alright, if you’re going to help me, then do it soon. I need to start this battle," Roland said. He had teleported a few kilometers from the machine.

[Just go. We’ll both do our best to back you up,] Norelli added. He already had a plan to draw the vampires’ attention toward Roland. The difficult part was knowing whether the hero could finish what he started.

What Roland needed was a single opening attack. That one strike would send a devastating wave forward.

[Keep attacking. I’ll handle the smaller strikes; let the spirit take care of the rest...] said the bat, speaking to him mentally.

Roland felt a strange pulse through his swords. Somehow, the crystals embedded within were being restored.

[Attack now! I can’t keep this up forever. You’ll get more chances, but it’s in your best interest to move!]

Roland didn’t know how the vampire was restoring the crystals, but he had no time to figure it out. All that mattered was striking while the chance remained.

On the demons’ side Kazurel, one of the demon generals in this fight, stepped forward beside her, a towering figure clad in jagged obsidian armor that seemed to drink in the light from Roland’s every skill.

His horns curled like those of a ram, and his molten eyes burned with a steady, hateful glow.

Unlike Velistra, there was no hesitation in Kazurel’s movements or intentions.

Where Velistra always maintained the demons’ best interest in mind, Kazurel lived only for war.

To him, Roland was not a hero or even someone to fear, but prey worth crushing beneath his blade.

His gauntleted hand tightened around his massive axe; the weapon’s edge glowed faintly with infernal energy.

"Do not falter, Velistra," Kazurel rumbled, his voice so deep the stones beneath their feet seemed to quiver. "This boy is as good as dead. He bleeds like any of us, and that works well, since we have two of the best vampires beside us."

Velistra’s eyes narrowed, though she gave no reply. She knew Kazurel sought only glory, never strategy.

From the shadows behind them, the vampire nobles emerged.

The first was Serathis, the Crimson Duke, his regal cloak trailing like liquid blood as he drew a slender, long blade, its edge stained dark with countless lives taken.

His smile was sharp and cold with an air of aristocratic disdain.

Beside him drifted Dravienne, the Pale Widow, her figure wrapped in black silks that clung to her form like a second skin, much of her lovely figure was exposed, causing even Roland to not know where to look.

Her pale fingers tightened around a staff carved from bleached bone, and the air warped with malignant energy wherever she walked.

The four predators spread out, circling until they stood in a loose arc before Roland, each of them radiating a power that would have broken ordinary men long before a blade was raised.

Four predators quickly positioned themselves at a safe distance before Roland.

Yet as the weight of their presence bore down on him, Roland only tightened his grip on his blades. "So," he muttered under his breath, "this is the best the demons have?"

Kazurel snarled at Roland’s words, his molten eyes blazing.

"Arrogant insolent worm!"

He lifted his colossal axe and brought it down with a force that split the ground in two.

The shockwave tore through the stone floor, sending shards of rock flying like shrapnel.

Roland crossed his blades in an instant, meeting the blow head-on.

The impact shook through his arms, but he held his ground, sparks cascading as steel shrieked against infernal metal.

With a twist, Roland shoved the axe aside and slashed upward, the strike forcing Kazurel to stagger back a step.

Roland quickly realized the energy this demon wielded was a fusion of light and darkness his own elements mirrored back at him.

Then his gaze locked on Kazurel’s chest, where two massive mana stones pulsed with stolen power. The connection clicked instantly. Earlier, he had felt his strength being drained. Now he knew the source.

"So it was you," Roland growled. "You dare steal my mana and use it against me."

He tightened his grip on his blades, recognizing he would have to stop relying on magic as long as this foe stood before him.