CHAPTER 132: FALLEN DEMON

Nolan stood outside his villa in Silver Blade City, hands clasped behind his back as a shimmering plume of smoke coiled upward like a dark serpent into the sky.

Within that haze, a vivid image of the battlefield shimmered—a ghostly projection of distant chaos unfolding as countless threads of mana converged and clashed.

The salty scent of ocean spray drifted faintly across the marble terrace, stirring the hem of his dark coat. His sharp gaze followed the shadowy figure of Yxthul gliding through the waves toward them, yet a peculiar silence surrounded the fishman now.

Nolan’s brow arched slightly. That’s odd. Fallen from the tenth stage to the seventh—and strangely quiet. It wasn’t mere exhaustion; it felt as if some deeper, more sinister force had sapped him of his strength.

Is that how many students have been killed already? It seems he owes them this time.

Beside him, Lirazel toyed with a silken lock of her hair, eyes gleaming with mischief as she gazed into the smoky projection. "Looks like your fishy friend isn’t doing so well," she purred, lips curving into a wicked smile. "He’s more like a beached guppy at this rate. What happened to all that grand talk of crushing you?"

Nolan chuckled, the sound deep and dry. "Don’t be too harsh, Lirazel," he replied, voice laced with sarcasm. "Yxthul may be weakened, but he’s still a materialized Demon Spawn. That means he can hurt you in ways you wouldn’t enjoy—and let’s not forget you’re both cut from the same infernal cloth."

She gasped in mock offense, a claw-tipped hand pressed to her chest as if he’d mortally wounded her pride. "Oh, my dear Nolan," she cooed, eyes glimmering with amusement. "That’s precisely why I take such delight in mocking him. Demon blood or not, it doesn’t make him any less pathetic."

He tilted his chin toward the roiling ocean far beyond. "Pathetic or not, you ought to show him some respect. Even demons can sink their fangs into the careless."

Lirazel gave an airy laugh that sparkled like shattered glass. "And yet here you stand, unbothered. What will you do if he reaches us, hmm?"

A sharp grin tugged at Nolan’s mouth. "Oh, I don’t plan to do much of anything," he said smoothly, reaching beneath his coat to produce a sleek, metallic object. Moonlight glinted along its contours as he held it up—an elegant machine gun, polished and deadly.

Lirazel’s crimson eyes flicked to the unfamiliar weapon, brow arched in intrigue. "And what’s that supposed to be? Some new kind of magic?"

"Something like that," Nolan replied breezily, spinning the firearm once before tucking it under his arm. "More like a special wand—both magic and physical. Trust me, it will do nicely if anyone tries to play hero."

She stepped closer, fingertips brushing the gun’s cool surface as though to feel its dark promise. "Mmm. You mortals do come up with the most delicious toys," she murmured, voice dropping to a purr before her gaze returned to the projection. "But we may not even need to wait. Poor Yxthul looks like he’s unraveling."

And unraveling he was.

---

Beneath the churning waves, Yxthul surged onward, but panic clawed at his gut like a hook. Every heartbeat was a weight dragging him deeper into a well of dread as he felt his mana bleeding away, siphoned into nothingness. No matter how furiously he called upon his strength, the current would not rise.

If I go on like this, I’ll be dead before I reach the shore, he thought bitterly.

With that fear gnawing at him, he reached out along the thread of spiritual connection that bound him to Geodan, the beggar lurking in the dark halls far away. Geodan, he projected harshly, his thoughts laced with raw urgency. Do you see what’s happening? Do you feel it?

For a long, taut moment there was silence, and then a brittle voice answered.

Yes, came the reluctant reply. My minions... they’re dying one after another. Those humanoid tentacle creatures were supposed to hold their ground, but they’re being butchered faster than I can will them to move. Every loss strains my control further.

Yxthul’s patience was unraveling as fast as his power. Then do something, he snapped, his tone sharp as a blade.

Do what? Geodan shot back bitterly. I’m trying to keep my focus, trying to keep them fighting, but they drop like flies before they even touch the humans. Something is killing them too easily, Yxthul. I can barely catch my breath before another link severs. It’s like my will hits a wall every time I issue a command.

The fishman ground his teeth. The weakness in his own limbs was becoming suffocating; he could feel every pulse of the distant battle like a stab to the heart. Then stop wasting my time and unleash the beast. The big one, the second version of our spawn. The stronger one. Let it loose on this city. Let it tear the streets apart until someone answers.

That earned him a panicked jolt across the bond. Are you mad?! Geodan’s mental voice shuddered. If I lose spiritual control over that creature, I’ll be as good as dead. That thing obeys me only by force. One slip and it will destroy me along with everything else.

It won’t kill you, Yxthul growled.

What?

I said it won’t kill you.

A long pause followed, soaked with suspicion. And why not?

Because I’m already here in this world, fully materialized, Yxthul assured him, forcing calm into his voice despite the terror knotting his stomach. That means I can tame it if it breaks loose. I’ll rein it in once it rampages and send it right back to heel. You’ll be safe. I swear.

You’re sure?

Of course I’m sure.

More silence. Hesitation threaded into every unspoken word across their link.

And you’ll make sure it doesn’t turn on me? Geodan pressed, grasping for reassurance like a drowning man.

Trust me. Nothing will happen to you. Just do as I say.

More silence, heavy as stone.

And then, at last, a long, reluctant breath. All right, Geodan replied, his thoughts trembling with the weight of the choice. I’ll trust you this time.

A sharp smile split across Yxthul’s face, jagged with hunger and triumph.

Good, he murmured across their bond, satisfaction curling in his tone like smoke. That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say.