Chapter 201: The First Guard of the Dungeon Boss
As they advanced closer toward the formation of soldiers, the sight that greeted them was not one of glory, but exhaustion. The men of the army formed for the dungeon looked worn and beaten. Armor dented and torn, torn banners hanging limply beside them. Some soldiers sat on rocks or leaned against their spears, their faces pale and smeared with grime and dried blood.
Many of their breastplates were cracked, the once-proud sigils of the different noble houses now faded and blackened by soot. Bandages wrapped around arms, shoulders, and heads, stained a deep red where wounds refused to close. Eros’ sharp gaze swept across them—he could tell these men had endured more than a few brutal encounters in the dungeon.
Amanda whispered softly to Ngozi, "There are fewer of them than there should be..."
Ngozi nodded grimly. "Yes. Far fewer. It seems The dungeon has already claimed many lives."
Then again they still remembered that those vampires had done a devastating job to the army when they entered.
They had not had a peaceful match like Eros’s party did.
Just then, their quiet exchange was interrupted by a sudden cry.
"Demons! The demons are coming!" one of the soldiers shouted, his voice cracking with fear.
Instantly, chaos rippled through the formation. Weapons were unsheathed, shields raised. Some soldiers stumbled back while others shouted warnings, forming a rough defensive wall.
"Hold the line!" one of the captains barked. "The map said demons couldn’t reach this far into the dungeon!"
A low murmur spread among the men—voices of disbelief and confusion.
"How are they here?"
"Did the dungeon change again?"
"That should not be possible..."
But Sayuri and Belamorte showed no sign of stopping. The fox woman’s expression was serene, almost mocking, as she approached with her four tails swaying elegantly behind her. Belamorte’s presence was colder—a quiet, regal dominance that made even the bravest soldiers hesitate.
Then again, the incubus was in no way interested in men.
A few soldiers raised their bows, ready to fire—
"Stay your hand!" a commanding voice cut through the clamor.
Everyone froze. Violet had stepped forward, the air around her pulsing faintly with noble authority. Her violet hair caught the glow of the Soul Stones above, shimmering like a royal banner.
"It’s a Grand Duke’s heir!" one of the men whispered. "Violet, Granddaughter of Grand Duke Saul of the Fanged Earth Tiger Family".
"One of the Flowers of the Almace kingdom..." murmured another.
Instantly, many lowered their weapons and dropped to one knee, heads bowed.
Violet tilted her chin upward proudly, the corners of her lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk. She turned slightly toward Eros, her eyes glittering with that familiar, teasing arrogance—as if to say, See? Even if you ignore me, others know my worth.
But Eros didn’t even glance at her. His gaze stayed on the soldiers, his voice calm yet cutting.
"These demons are with me," he said, stepping forward. "If you raise your weapon against them..."—his tone deepened, his aura swelling slightly, sending a shiver through the men—"...then you raise your weapon against me."
A hush fell. No one dared move.
Even though no one recognized him beneath the mask, something in his voice—the quiet authority, the unshakable confidence—made the soldiers instinctively lower their weapons. Even Violet, for all her pride, said nothing as she turned toward the troops.
"Give me a report of what’s happening," she demanded.
A soldier stepped forward immediately, snapping a sharp salute. "My lady," he said, voice trembling slightly from exhaustion, "the entrance to the castle ahead is blocked by a ferocious demon. He claims he will only allow passage to anyone who can land a hit on him. Ee tried to rush him all at onece, that ended very bad. So we decided to stick to its rules."
He swallowed hard, lowering his head. "As of now, only Sir William, Lady Christiana, and the monk, young master Jan have managed to do that."
The soldiers guided Eros and his party through the camp and toward the front of the battlefield. The further they walked, the louder the sounds became—metal clashing against stone, explosions of soul energy shaking the earth, and the roars of something that was not human.
And then, as they reached the outer ridge overlooking the castle grounds, they saw it.
Before them stood a demon—a towering monstrosity nearly thirteen feet tall, with a frame so broad that even the trees around him seemed small in comparison. His upper body was bare, muscles coiled like sculpted iron and skin dark crimson streaked with black veins that pulsed faintly with light. Four massive arms jutted from his sides—two thick and dominant above, two slightly smaller but still powerful below. Each hand bore jagged claws that gleamed like polished obsidian.
His face was monstrous—an elongated jaw with curved tusks jutting out from beneath his lips, and eyes like molten gold burning with savage amusement. Around his waist, he wore a long skirt made of the hide of some great soul beast, its edges adorned with bones and teeth.
Every step he took sent tremors through the ground. His deep laughter echoed through the chamber like thunder.
"Behold..." Belamorte whispered beside Eros, her eyes narrowing. "That’s one of the three guards Lady Sayuri mentioned. The dungeon Boss’s Gatekeeper."
Eros said nothing, but his eyes sharpened behind his mask, watching the battle unfold below.
The war sister facing the demon was formidable in her own right—a tall woman clad in dark silver armor marked with the insignia of Christiana’s Order. Two curved swords glowed faintly in her hands, shimmering with Soul energy.
She darted forward, her movements a blur of speed. Her swords slashed in a cross pattern, arcs of light trailing through the air.
"RAAAAAH!" she shouted as she closed in, blades striking the demon’s chest.
CLANG! CLANG!
The sound was like metal striking stone. Sparks burst from the impact, but the demon didn’t even flinch. He only smiled wider, his four arms raising simultaneously.
"Too weak," the demon rumbled, his voice like an earthquake.
With a single swing of his upper right arm, he blocked both her blades. The lower left arm jabbed toward her midsection like a spear, forcing her to twist away. She rolled across the dirt, sliding on her knees, and spun back to her feet just as the demon’s second strike came crashing down.
BOOOOOM!
The ground shattered where she had just stood, chunks of stone flying through the air like shrapnel.
The war sister gritted her teeth and countered, leaping off one of the falling stones to slash at his exposed flank. Her swords glowed bright white, cutting through the air with deadly precision.
"[Twin Moon Strike!]"
The blades landed—one, two—drawing faint lines of blood across the demon’s ribs.
But the demon only chuckled. "Not bad... but if only your cultivation level was higher..."
Before she could retreat, his lower right hand snatched her wrist mid-swing. His grip was monstrous—her gauntlet cracked under the pressure. She gasped, eyes wide.
Then his other arms moved at once—one upper fist crashing into her stomach, another striking across her jaw. The sound was sickening.
Her body flew through the air, crashing through a boulder before landing hard on the ground. She coughed blood, her swords falling from her hands.
The demon walked toward her slowly, dragging one foot after another, each step making the ground quake.
"Come now," he said with a grin full of tusks. "You wanted to land a hit, didn’t you? You did well. Now you may die with pride."
The war sister tried to rise, her arms trembling. She screamed and launched one last desperate strike—throwing both her swords in a spinning arc at the demon’s throat.
He simply raised one of his lower hands, catching both blades midair.
And then, with horrifying casualness, he crushed the hilts in his palm until the steel splintered like glass.
The broken shards fell to the dirt as he loomed over her.
In one smooth motion, his upper arm swung down, his massive fist connecting with her torso—
BOOOOOOM!
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air. Dust and stone flew outward in all directions. When the smoke cleared, the war sister lay motionless in a crater, her armor shattered and blood trickling down her chin.
The demon exhaled slowly, the golden glow in his eyes flaring. "Next," he growled, lifting his head to face the gathered soldiers watching from afar.
The silence that followed was heavy. Even the air seemed to hold its breath.
Eros’ eyes narrowed. He stepped forward once.
"Interesting," he murmured.