CHAPTER 573: CHAPTER 575: HOW MANY MORE CHILDREN

Hearing the voice behind him, Damon couldn’t help but smile. By his estimation Ashcroft would take exactly seven minutes to get here, and they had killed their opponents in three. That meant they had time to escape.

Damon turned around with the same smile plastered on his face.

"You sure came here in a hurry... are you that eager to die?"

Ashcroft smiled, closing his eyes calmly. He didn’t have the usual disdain he carried for opponents. It was as if he was looking at Damon as an equal.

"I’m not the one fleeing with my tail between my legs... you forgot to hide."

Damon shook his head, showing no regard for the fact that this was the great demon lord of domination. It seemed Ashcroft had made some sacrifices to reach them so quickly.

"I’m not the one who looks half dead and trapped in the body of a little goblin."

Ashcroft didn’t need to reply, but he did, since Damon had no intention of running.

"Speaks volumes of your character if you’re running from a little goblin. If I had a moderately decent body... you would have died."

Damon replied with cold indifference, knowing that even now Ashcroft had the power to do just that.

"If I had been in the same rank... I would kill you with a thought. But all I hear are excuses."

He glanced down at Ashcroft, using his height to look over the small form of the goblin.

"You look like you’re on your last legs..." He smirked, showing not a trace of fear. And if he felt any, he was doing a damn good job of hiding it.

However, his words carried weight. Ashcroft glanced at his goblin body.

It was a wreck, which was almost funny since no one had come close to touching him. He was simply too powerful. But that same great power was also his undoing.

Domination was the power of a king, a monarch. How could a lowly goblin hold such power?

His body was decaying from the inside out. Every breath he drew was agony. His bones were rotting, barely holding together. His organs were melting, his power dropping.

On the outside he had lost one of the goblin’s ears. His nose was falling apart, barely clinging to flesh. His body was leaking and dripping blood as if it were sweat.

Even in this pain he still wore the same arrogant expression, even against this would-be usurper.

This was supposed to be his last obstacle before he could resurrect. This boy... just a child that did not know fear.

Seeing this youth, sixteen or seventeen at most, holding a weapon, almost made him think of his own life as a soldier. Fighting with brothers in arms, hearing bullets fly, the willingness to lay on a grenade for the rest.

The image of young children holding guns flashed though his mind.

He opened his eyes.

’How many more children must I kill ?’

That life was gone now. Distant.

He raised his head, his eyes bleeding yet still domineering.

"Shall we end this? I have an end goal to achieve, if you don’t mind."

Damon scoffed, holding his Dealer’s Hand, knowing escape was impossible.

He was about to take a step forward when Abellona grabbed his hand, nudging him. Turning around, he looked at the pale-faced princess.

She shook her head, but Damon knew it was pointless. Ashcroft would never allow them to escape.

"He’s too powerful. You can’t win. You’ll die..."

She whispered softly to him, urging him to flee.

Ashcroft smiled coldly.

"She’s right. Give up... your death would be painless."

Of course Damon knew that. But they couldn’t escape.

He grabbed Abellona’s face, moving his own close until his lips hovered inches from hers. Her eyes widened, not understanding what he was doing. She glanced at Ashcroft, who was simply staring at them.

"Excuse me... a little privacy here." Damon forced a smile.

Ashcroft frowned, but took it as the last wish of a dying man. Getting the kiss of a beautiful woman was something all men desired.

He closed his eyes. Damon glanced at the stunned Abellona, then mouthed something, hoping she could read his lips.

It wasn’t much to go on, but it was still something.

Then he turned to face Ashcroft.

"I can’t win? Who decided that?"

He glanced at the demon lord, squeezing his Dealer’s Hand as he dismissed the Staff of Carnage.

It was useless here. At least for now.

Abellona stepped back as far as she could, biting her lips until they bled. She couldn’t say anything. The only thing left was the glow of her wings, still slowly turning red, each feather becoming an incarnation of destruction.

Damon’s eyes flickered with tendrils of shadow as he reached for Ashcroft.

Ashcroft’s brown goblin eyes didn’t change. All he saw was his victory. As Damon took the first step, understanding what Ashcroft did to those he considered equals.

Damon felt something he had not felt before, not even when Ashcroft had been furious about him having his shadow.

His breath caught in his throat as if he had been forced to the bottom of the ocean. The deep pressure made it impossible to breathe, impossible to move freely.

He couldn’t breathe, but this was not water. Water could not drown him. The world around him felt eerie and red, as though covered in blood. Breathing blood. Everything black. Everything reeking of despair.

He could feel the deep baleful aura that made his heart pound in his chest as if it were about to explode. The remorseless skill that kept him cool-headed in countless situations was failing him completely.

This... this was the killing intent of Ashcroft.

Even so, Damon roared, forcing down the cold dread, the unspeakable power, the horror. How could anyone sane want to face this killing intent? How could anyone want to be dragged into this quagmire of blood, bones, and death?

The sane could not overpower Ashcroft’s will.

Still Damon pressed forward, because he would rather die his way than retreat under someone else’s terms.

Ashcroft merely raised his hand. When there was killing intent, what usually followed was...

Death.

Damon felt something invisible tear straight through his body from the waist, cutting him in half.

His eyes widened as he looked down, blood gushing from his waist. The top half of his body fell next to his lower half.

The world went blank as the sounds of devastation rang out, along with the scream of a woman.

The familiar blackness of death took him once more in its mercifully cruel embrace.