CHAPTER 49: SIDE ATTACK

The night wind howled over the cliffs as Coris stood alone beneath the blood-red moon. The ruined outpost behind her cast long shadows, jagged like broken teeth.

Her attack and plan was a failure. She had played it up with a faulty gamble. Now she was it was getting late to correct it. She glanced at the half burning Ghost Village. She was not to far from it.

Her cloak whipped behind her, her fingers twitching near her belt. She felt it, something dark had entered this realm. And it was looking for her.

The wind shifted. A ripple tore through the air like a scream, and then it was there—a tall, cloaked demon with horns that twisted like black lightning. Its skin was cracked obsidian, pulsing with infernal light, and its presence distorted the very air around it.

"Coris Bendly," the demon spoke, voice like grinding stone. "The Shingan sends his regards."

Coris narrowed her eyes, her hand already clutching the hilt of her dagger. "He sent you to kill me. That coward."

The demon grinned, showing rows of needle-like teeth. "You were promised power. He gave it. You were promised survival. You failed."

"I was promised loyalty. I was promised purpose. What I got was lies!" She barked loudly.

The demon didn’t waste another word. It leapt at her, claws outstretched, fangs bared. Coris vanished into the shadows.

A beat later, she exploded upward from the demon’s own shadow and slashed at its ribs. Her dagger carved across the demon’s side, black ichor spraying into the air.

But the demon twisted in midair and slammed a clawed foot into her chest. Coris was flung backward, rolling through the dust, landing hard on her side. She coughed, tasted blood, and stood.

"You’ve made a mistake," she said darkly, "thinking I’d go quietly. Tsk. Jusr a big fool."

The demon raised both hands. From the abyss around it, spears of bone shot toward her. Coris ducked and flipped, the spears slicing the air just inches from her body. Her eyes blazed violet as she sank into the earth again, melting into shadow.

A heartbeat passed. Then she burst from a cliff face to the left, her body spinning as her blade sliced in a wide arc. The demon blocked with its forearm, and their powers clashed like lightning against iron. The ground cracked beneath them.

They circled, predator versus predator.

"You could have ruled beside him," the demon hissed.

"I’d rather die on my feet than kneel beside a traitor. He wants me dead. I did this for him but he stilll hate me." Coris spat.

The demon unleashed a wave of void energy, tendrils of dark magic sweeping across the battlefield. Coris threw up a wall of shadows to absorb the blow, but the impact cracked the shield and sent her skidding back.

Her shoulder throbbed. Her knees ached. But her grip never wavered.

She drew her second blade.

"No more tricks. Let’s finish this."

The demon split in two—then four. Each copy shimmered with arcane fire, their laughter echoing in unison. Coris’ eyes narrowed. Illusions? No, these were solid. Magic constructs—each nearly as dangerous as the original.

One charged. She dodged, spun, slashed across its back, and felt resistance. Real.

Two more attacked from the sides. She dropped into shadow again, rising behind one and stabbing through its spine. The illusion shattered into black mist.

Still three more.

The demon clones were faster now, surrounding her in coordinated flanks. Her blades were a blur, deflecting claw and flame, countering with precision. Each movement was born from a century of training, a lifetime of betrayal, and an ocean of rage.

Blood dripped from her temple. Her ribs were bruised. Her strength waned—but her fury did not. She couldn’t afford to die now.

She destroyed another illusion, then the third.

Then the real demon struck. A sweeping arm caught her mid-turn and hurled her into the side of a boulder. Stone cracked. Her body screamed in protest.

The demon landed before her, towering like a titan.

"You were never meant to survive this, Coris."

Coris coughed, staggered to her feet, both blades still gripped.

"You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve survived."

The demon roared and lunged. Coris dropped both blades, slammed her palms together, and whispered an ancient incantation. The shadows around her surged like a storm.

"Shadow Maw!"

The ground beneath the demon split open, black jaws rising like a beast from the abyss. It snapped around the demon, crushing with thousands of teeth. The demon screamed in fury, shredding through the magic, but it bought Coris time.

Time to channel the last of her magic into her body. Black fog swirled around her as she absorbed shadows into her. Then she exploded in finality.

When the demon broke free, Coris was ready.

Her blades reformed from smoke in her hands. She dashed forward with blinding speed, unleashing a flurry of cuts—one across the thigh, another across the stomach, one more across the face.

The demon staggered, roared, and swung.

She ducked, rolled, and stabbed upward through its jaw.

The beast howled and swatted her away again. She tumbled, broken but not beaten.

Lightning crackled in the sky as the battle raged on, each strike and counterstrike shaking the cliffs. The war of shadow and void turned the battlefield into a wasteland of ruptured earth and dying light.

The demon circled now, limping slightly.

Coris stood tall, bleeding, battered—but undefeated.

"You should run back to your master," she said. "Tell him I’m not as disposable as he thought."

The demon hissed. "I will feast on your corpse."

Coris grinned, shadow magic surging once more.

"Then you’d better earn it."

She lunged faster and sliced through the leg of the demon. It’s body quivered but them in an instant it seemed like non of that had ever happened.

The demon stood tall and watched her close in again. She moved with precise speed and her cut lashed in again and the body of the demon hardened quickly to absorb the strike easily.

She paused anc stared at him. She knew that defeating this Delusional Demon was not going to be such so easy. She sprawled on the ground, her face went pale.

A/N:: Still haven’t earned a gift. Please gift this book.