Chapter 346: Chapter 345 - Catch me if you can.
Meanwhile, far from the sun-kissed spires of Velmoria, the early morning above an unmanned forest trembled beneath the weight of two titans.
The forest, once known for housing a variety of beasts, now seemed devoid of any.
Not even a bird could be sighted.
But it wasn’t uncalled for, as the entities above the forest weren’t someone that anyone in this kingdom would want to face.
The first one was a demon. He hovered, his crimson aura pulsing with a predatory rhythm. His molten garnet eyes narrowed as his gaze locked on the creature opposite him—a beast that hadn’t been there a heartbeat ago.
He tilted his head and asked, his voice a low growl, "Is that a dragon you were trying to turn into?"
The "old man" that stood before him now stretched across the sky, a serpentine leviathan of red scales streaked with streaks of white.
His wings were like glaciers unfolded, covering the sunlight from reaching the forest below, while twin horns curved back in wicked elegance. Every exhale sent gusts screaming through the forest below.
Crisaius’s deep, rumbling chuckle rolled like distant thunder.
"Sharp eye, kid. Yes, I was trying to. Pretty cool, right?" His voice then lowered as he tilted his head. "... Though I think I nailed the ’handsome’ part better than the ’terrifying’ one."
The demon, however, didn’t seem impressed as his lips twisted into a faint sneer. "You failed. This is merely a shell of a dragon. The exterior might be scaled, but the inside remained human. Tell me, why bother with a form that isn’t truly yours?"
The dragon’s molten-gold eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why? Because I heard my dear disciple can do it. And as his master, how could I not at least try? Gotta keep up with the kids these days."
The demon exhaled a slow hiss of disdain.
Crimson sparks snapped through the air around him as his shape began to unravel. Flesh stretched. Shadows warped.
Then, with a noise like mountains grinding together, he expanded.
Great onyx wings tore open behind him, his body swelling until it matched the dragon’s size.
Jagged scales shimmered like cooled obsidian, and a crown of crimson horns spiraled skyward. His voice deepened into a resonant growl that made the clouds themselves recoil.
"There," he rumbled. "No more size advantage. Back to square one."
Crisaius threw back his horned head and laughed, a sound so joyous it cracked the night air. "Size advantage? Oh, my boy... if you’re still judging books by their covers, you’re in for a long, painful read."
The demon’s eyes flared crimson, and without a word, it moved.
Reality warped as the world bled into streaks of red and black.
Space screamed as a claw of pure destructive force scythed toward the dragon.
Crisaius’s pupils narrowed as he realized that this attack was dangerous.
He couldn’t tell what element that was, as it felt like a mix of space and fire. But he was sure that it was dangerous.
Instantly, he used his time ability.
The moment he did, the time stilled.
For less than a heartbeat, the universe froze. The demon hung mid-lunge, droplets of dew suspended like tiny stars.
It was only a flicker, a fraction of a second, as the demon was too strong, but it was enough.
In the fraction of time he had, the dragon twisted aside with liquid grace.
The forest below wasn’t so lucky.
Air cracked like splintering glass. Trees folded inward, the ground itself warping into fractured rings.
Wherever the attack passed, only destruction followed.
The old man wasn’t even sure how many cities, towns, or villages the demon’s attack would destroy before its power died.
’If even one of those attacks were aimed toward the capital, then everyone there would be toast,’ Crisaius thought, his eyes narrowed.
He did feel bad for the deaths of the people who were in the attack’s path, but now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that, so he turned back to the demon.
"Attacking without warning? That’s cheating," his voice boomed.
The demon, however, bared its jagged teeth. "There is no cheating in battle. Only carelessness."
But before his retort could settle, a streak of black lightning screamed across the heavens. Its speed defied instinct—an attack born of pure annihilation.
The demon twitched, sensing danger that clawed at his very essence. He tried to move—
—Only found time itself locking him in place.
"Not...this again—!"
It tried to move, as it could tell that if that attack hit, the damage would be substantial, but the demon knew that by the time it could move again, it would already be too late.
So, instead of trying to break free, it braced for impact, and the next second—
The bolt struck.
A detonation split the atmosphere, a shockwave so violent that it erased the forest below, which had been ruined by the demon earlier.
The trees vaporized, clouds shredded, and even the sun itself seemed to flinch.
What followed was a quake, and the shockwave shook the entire area, reaching even the capital city, alarming the citizens.
When the smoke cleared, the demon staggered forward—one arm gone, crimson ichor hissing against the cold air.
The wound was healing, but the fury he felt only kept increasing, as he, the son of the 69th demon king and one of the strongest demon tyrants, was injured by a human.
If that wasn’t enough, the human was from this desolate region, which had only now birthed a being of imperial level.
His pride took a blow so big that it dwarfed the wound on his body.
’I was injured by a human who has just entered the imperial level?!’
Without even realizing it, he roared, "CRISAIUS!"
His bloodshot eyes turned toward the old man, but the white dragon was already gone.
Only glittering motes drifted in his place, forming glowing letters that twirled lazily in the morning breeze: Catch me if you can.
Below it, a sparkling arrow pointed upward, as if telling the demon where it would find him.
The demon’s roar ripped across the heavens, shaking the very bones of the world.
In his rage, he failed to notice the faint wisp of mana letters spiraling downward, slipping silently towards a location no one but a few knew about.
Above, however, the hunt resumed, as the crimson titan shot skyward, chasing a silver streak that danced like laughter across the clouds.
However, this wasn’t the only place where danger lay, as the capital city, with hundreds of demons trapped underneath, was no better.
............................
Beneath the marble avenues and golden spires of Velmoria’s royal capital, the world was a different place.
The underground prison stretched like a forgotten maze beneath the palace—a warren of damp corridors and iron-barred cells that hummed faintly with sealing magic.
The air was cold enough to bite, tasting of rust and old stone, and in that silence, footsteps whispered.
A lean man slipped through the shadows, his black hair blending into the dim torchlight, green eyes glinting with the sharp focus of a predator.
He moved like smoke—soft leather boots brushing against wet stone, each step calculated to be soundless.
Ahead, a single guard stood at the far end of the corridor, broad-shouldered and still as a statue.
Keys dangled from his belt, their faint jingle the only melody in the oppressive quiet.
The intruder’s lips curved into a razor-thin smile. ’Foolish humans. All they could do was place one guard here.’
The man inched closer and closer.
His breath slowed to a silent rhythm as he reached for the key ring.
One flick of his fingers, and the gates holding the captured demons would fall.
The kingdom would drown in chaos before dawn.
His hand hovered inches from the guard’s belt—
—And the world snapped.
An iron grip clamped around his throat.
The lean man’s eyes went wide as he was yanked upward with inhuman speed, his boots scraping helplessly against the cold stone wall.
The "guard" turned his head, revealing sharp, storm-grey eyes beneath a fringe of iron-grey hair.
"Going somewhere?" The man said, his voice as calm as a winter night.
The lean intruder choked, claws flaring instinctively as his human disguise rippled and then shattered.
Skin split and bled into shadow, limbs elongating into the twisted grace of a demon.
Dark scales crawled across his neck like spilled ink, and jagged horns erupted from his skull.
His crimson-tinged eyes burned with shock. "How—how did you—?!"
The guard’s grip never wavered.
"I was wondering when you’d show up," he said quietly.
The demon froze, realization dawning like a blade through the chest as it realized that it had fallen for a trap.
Vairan—the one who had been guarding this place since the demons were sent here—allowed himself the smallest of smiles.
After all, everyone—Raven and his group—knew that there was a traitor in the inner court after the last incident.
However, capturing and killing it would’ve made it worse, as the demons would’ve sent another, and the new one would’ve been more alert.
So, they waited, and they plotted.
The only reason the demons were left alive was to lure the demon traitor, and they knew that the traitor would only move when Raven and his group were busy.
The demon in Vairan’s hand also realized that.
"T-The demons in the prison—"
"—Were bait," Vairan completed those words. "We knew someone would try to free them. And that someone..."
His grey eyes sharpened like steel. "...was you."
The demon snarled, voice cracking with fury. "You played me—!"
"Sharp minds run in the Vaise family," Vairan said, tilting his head slightly. "Among the younger generation alone, there are enough strategists to fill a war council. Coming up with this plan wasn’t hard."
The demon struggled, claws raking uselessly against Vairan’s wrist. "Since when—"
"Since the night the demon generals appeared," Vairan interrupted, his voice turning to iron. "This ends now."
His fingers tightened.
A wet, decisive crack echoed through the stone hall.
The demon’s body convulsed once as his neck snapped cleanly beneath the pressure.
A heartbeat later, his head tore free, rolling across the cold floor with a dull thud before dissolving into black ash.
Vairan released the corpse, letting it slump soundlessly to the ground.
For a moment, only the hiss of dying demonic energy lingered in the air.
The traitor was dead.
Even if the demon army planted another, it would be far too late.
By the time a replacement moved into position, the battle raging between Crisaius and the demon tyrant in the skies beyond the capital would’ve already concluded.
Vairan, still in the prison, staring at the demon’s corpse, adjusted his collar, his eyes cold and steady as he turned back toward the prison cells.
"Checkmate," he murmured, and the torches flickered as if in grim applause.
With that, at least the capital was safe from internal attacks.