VOLUME 11: CHAPTER 13

VOLUME 11: CHAPTER 13

When Lark heard the whistling sound that reverberated throughout the entire battlefield, the name of a particular species of demon came into mind:

Pathfinders.

A species of demon that had gone nearly extinct over a millennium ago. They were as powerful as High Demons, and their intellect was on par with those of human scholars. Moreover, their physique enabled them to easily see through an entire region and grasp the flow of a battlefield as a whole.

Demons that served directly the current Demon Lord.

Just the existence of Pathfinders greatly augments the strength of a demon army.

Back in the Era of Magic, before the Cataclysm, the human race spared no effort in eradicating their species.

With a faint worry on his face, Lark looked in the direction of the Iron Mountains.

Chryselle noticed this. “What’s going on, Master?”

It was rare for her to see her master look uneasy.

“I received a message from Blackie just now,” said Lark. “It seems the Beast King is chasing after the retreating demons.”

It was an expected decision on the part of the Beast King. Chryselle knew that had she been in his position, she would have probably done the same.

“Shouldn’t we do the same, Master?” said Chryselle.

Under normal circumstances, Lark would have gladly joined the Beast King in chasing after the retreating demons. But the existence of a Pathfinder would make such endeavor dangerous on its own.

Even if Lark managed to survive the traps and encirclement, he would end up consuming vast amounts of mana, and it would no longer be possible for him to close the portal.

They had to maintain a delicate balance between offense and defense, if they wished to pull off their plans successfully.

Now that they were near the Iron Mountains, Lark could feel it – the pathway connecting this land to the Demon Realm remained open.

From this distance, Lark no longer had to confirm the existence of the portal. The abundant and erratic flow of mana that reached all the way to the Talverton Stronghold confirmed that the portal was still open. The only saving grace was that the portal remained unstable.

“We need to retreat for now,” said Lark, “and formulate an optimal strategy to allow us to close that portal completely.”

Lark could understand the Beast King’s desire to chase after the retreating army. But currently, this move was too reckless.

The warriors of Talverton Stronghold were exhausted, and even Blackie and Agnus had used up large amounts of their mana reserves. If things went downhill, it would be hard to send reinforcements for the Beast King.

They were in no position to be this aggressive.

“Stay here,” said Lark to his disciples. “Blackie will arrive soon. No matter what happens, don’t leave his side. Understood?”

Chryselle frowned, but nodded regardless. “Yes, Master.”

Anandra calmly said, “Understood, Master.”

Lightning crackled underneath Lark’s feet. Explosively, he shot toward the direction of the retreating demon army.

***

[Iron Mountains]

“How… unexpected. So, powerful individuals exist even in this realm?”

A seven-meter-large humanoid demon watched the Beast King as he followed the retreating demons from a distance.

“They even have a Dragon on their side, but thankfully, it’s still a hatchling. As long as it runs out of mana, it’s possible to kill it.”

The humanoid creature had seen everything.

The humanoid’s head was round and swollen, occupying half of its entire muscular body. The sixty-four bulging eyes on its head glowed, each of them looking at different parts of the region, giving the creature a grasp of the battlefield as a whole.

It saw how the beastmen stationed in Talverton valiantly defended the stronghold despite being greatly outnumbered. He saw the arrival of the seven-headed creature, and the appearance of the Red Dragon. He saw how the White Lion, together with his subordinates, rallied the army and pushed back the demons. He also saw how the humans who’d come together with the White Lion massacred his kin.

Still, despite this, the creature remained calm and calculating.

The creature was Suuku’ Kala, a Pathfinder.

“You said you’re one of the leaders here?” said Suuku’ Kala.

One of its numerous eyes slowly moved and looked down at the frog beastman kneeling below. The frog beastman was one of the Foremen that oversaw the iron ore production in the Iron Mountains. One of the leaders that kept the slaves in check.

This foreman managed to survive until now by hiding in the deepest part of the Furnace Room. Although he’d sustained numerous burns due to this, he managed to outlive his peers. Unfortunately, a part of the ceiling and walls of the Furnace Room collapsed, and the foreman had no choice but to escape to the outside to survive.

And this was the result of it.

In a short period of time after coming out, he was captured by the demons.

Upon receiving no immediate reply, Suuku’ Kala’s eye looking at the frog beastman squinted. In a voice akin to three grown men’s voice overlapping, it calmly spoke, “Not going to answer?”

The frog beastman flinched. “Y-Yes! I’m Sparaten, the Foreman of Zone A! Since the slaves under my jurisdiction are in charge of the Furnace, I’m at the apex of hierarchy in this mountain! I-I’m useful! Please! Don’t kill me!”

By rank alone, he was above even that of Temujin.

He was below only to General Thaorrok and the military officials of the Rocky Fort.

Sparaten couldn’t believe that a high-ranking official like him was meeting such a fate. He couldn’t believe that in just a span of several hours, he’d lost everything. Like a slave, he was now kneeling before this grotesque-looking creature, silently praying to the Three Gods for salvation.

“Then, tell me—”

One of the three tails behind the Pathfinder’s back shot toward the frog beastman and pierced him right in the abdomen.

“—Who is this?”

Sparaten groaned. With blood dripping down his bulbous lips, he said in a pleading voice, “P-Please… don’t kill me!”

“You won’t die. At least, not now,” said Suuku’ Kala. “Now, answer me. Who is this?”

Through the tail that had pierced its body, numerous images started flashing in the frog beastman’s mind. Specifically, the images all showed the image of a White Lion stealthily following the retreating demon army from a safe distance.

The frog beastman’s eyes widened.

With just a single glance, he knew who that beastman was.

The characteristic white skin and numerous tattoos that filled the beastman’s entire body was a dead giveaway. Even if you asked a random slave, they would be able to recognize the beastman right away.

Gaorux, the White Lion.

The current and longest-reigning Beast King of their nation.

The undisputed strongest beastman in the entire United Grakas Alliance.

If it were another beastman, Sparaten would have immediately given his name and identity right away. But if it was the Beast King, things would be different.

The Beast King was invincible. He should be capable of killing the demons in the Iron Mountains – this grotesque-looking monster included. At least, that’s what Sparaten believed. After all, the Beast King was said to be as powerful as an army himself – and this was especially true during nighttime.

This was his only shot at survival.

He couldn’t possibly let this monster know of the Beast King’s real identity.

“J-Judging by the marks on his body,” said Sparaten. “I-It’s the Chief Guard of the Lion Tribe.”

The frog beastman quickly concocted a lie without flinching. Even the rank he mentioned was a non-existent position in the Lion Tribe.

One of the three tails of Suuku’ Kala moved and rubbed his chin. “A Chief Guard… not the Tribal Chief himself, but a guard?”

Since this was the Pathfinder’s first time meeting a frog beastman, he was unable to discern between its expressions. He couldn’t even tell if the frog was lying or telling the truth.

“How… interesting,” mumbled Suuku’ Kala. “He was able to fight evenly against a Fire Giant. But to think that he’s a mere guard…”

Another one of the Pathfinder’s eyes twitched then slowly moved down, looking at the frog beastman kneeling below. The frog beastman did his best not to scream upon locking eyes with it.

“Hmmm…”

It was dubious.

Had there been another surviving beastman in the Iron Mountains, the Pathfinder would have asked the demons to drag it here to glean more information. Regrettably, the demons had massacred all of the beastmen inhabiting the Iron Mountains.

Well, if they were fortunate, then maybe the flesh eaters and parasitic demons would be able to find a survivor that had fled deeper into the tunnels.

“A guard…,” mumbled Suuku’ Kala, “Just a mere Chief Guard?”

Initially, Suuku’ Kala highly regarded the White Lion’s strength. He believed that the White Lion was at least a General of the army, since he was capable of fighting against a Fire Giant evenly.

But after hearing from the frog beastman that he was a mere Chief Guard, Suuku’ Kala finally lost interest.

If he held such a mediocre rank, then there should be no need to mobilize the three Skinwalkers that served as his protectors just to capture him.

“Just a single one should do,” said Suuku’ Kala.

One of his three tails squirmed and slowly assumed the form of a faceless, two-meters large humanoid creature. Slowly, the humanoid detached from the Pathfinder’s body.

It was a Skinwalker, the offspring of a Pathfinder that served as his protector. Although they weren’t classified as High Demons, each of them was as powerful as one.

“My child,” said Suuku’ Kala.

The Skinwalker knelt before the Pathfinder.

“Bring the White Lion to me.”

Upon receiving its orders, the Skinwalker screeched. It stood up and ran in the direction of the Beast King.

“And you—”

Suuku’ Kala turned his attention to Sparaten.

“—are no longer needed.”

The frog beastman tried to plead and beg for mercy, but before he could even utter another word, the tail that had been piercing his chest moved and bisected him vertically.

Blood splattered, and the corpse of the frog beastman fell limply on the ground.

“Now, my kin! Present him to me!”

Several pores at the back of the Pathfinder’s body opened, and from it, the sound of a monotonous whistle rang out.

The sound of this whistle spread far and wide.

***

‘Another one?’

While the Beast King was chasing after retreating demons, he heard the sound of a whistle once again. Although the sound was fainter than before, it felt nearer to his current location.

The Beast King amplified all of his senses, discerning the direction and location of the sound’s source.

‘They finally paid attention to me.’

Although some of the demons, particularly those in the sky, noticed the Beast King following them, they didn’t pay attention to him and simply moved back toward the Iron Mountains.

But now, after hearing the second whistle, the demons located at the rear of the retreating demon army suddenly turned hostile. They halted, turned around, roared, and charged toward the Beast King.

The Beast King bared his fangs. He growled, “Even if it’s daytime, do you think I’ll be scared of you damn maggots!”

The mane of the Beast King glowed, his muscles bulged, and his claws elongated. Without fear, he charged head-on at the demons.

“Where is your master!” roared the Beast King as he ripped a lesser demon apart with his claws. “The owner of that damn whistle! Bring! Him! To! Me!”

Claws of mana shot out and cut dozens of demons at once. Six sky demons screeched and swooped toward the Beast King, but were immediately cut apart by the claws of mana before they could even reach him.

The Beast King felt the ground underneath him move. Instinctively, he jumped back, evading the tentacles that shot out of the ground a split second afterward. Dozens of parasitic demons started emerging from the ground. There was even a middle-ranking nest among the group.

Furthermore, dozens of wraiths and phantasms started flying in the Beast King’s direction.

For a moment, the Beast King wondered if he’d been too hasty in his decision. Now that it was daytime, his strength had been split in half. He could feel the rays of the sun scorching his skin, and there was even a faint sizzling sound as he stood here on this battlefield.

“Doesn’t matter.”

The Beast King gnashed his teeth. He’d never lost before, and he had no plans of losing now – especially not against these demons.

Fearlessly, the Beast King charged deeper into the enemy lines and clashed against the wraiths, phantasms, and parasitic demons.

The tentacles of a middle-ranking nest shot toward him, but Beast King nimbly evaded them by sidestepping or jumping back. And using this opening, he grabbed the tentacles and pulled them, dragging the middle-ranking nest out of ground.

“Stop hiding like a maggot!”

The Beast King pulled the tentacles even strongly, making the body of the middle-ranking nest fly toward him. He pulled his free arms back, and with his fists imbued with mana, he punched the body of the middle-ranking nest. The punch pierced a hole through its body, sending innards flying out.

The Beast King saw the wound he’d inflicted on the middle-ranking nest quickly closing. It seemed that it had regenerative abilities greater than a Wasteland Troll. He realized that he needed to do more if he wished to kill it.

For now, he decided to push away such a troublesome opponent.

The Beast King spun around and threw the middle-ranking nest toward the group of Tormentors approaching him from a distance. And without stopping, he turned to his rear and released claws of mana, killing the wraiths that had approached him at the back unannounced.

Four flesh eaters sprung toward him. The Beast King evaded the attack of the first one by moving to the side, and evaded the attack of the second by ducking. He imbued his claws with mana and slashed the bodies of the third and fourth flesh eaters, cutting their bodies into numerous pieces.

“Is this it?” snarled the Beast King.

He grabbed the first flesh eater’s head and crushed it with brute strength, before letting it fall to the ground. And using his right leg, he kicked the second flesh eater, sending it flying and rolling on the ground dozens of meters.

Although the Beast King was currently surrounded by hundreds of demons, he didn’t feel the slightest bit threatened.

Like Hatch, the Beast King’s body had an absurdly fast regeneration rate. Coupled with his tough skin and iron-like muscles, he was akin to an invincible god even during the day.

“Even the monsters of the Wasteland are stronger than these bastards,” spat the Beast King.

The Beast King had gone deep into the Wastelands before. And in the deepest parts of the Wasteland, monsters several times more powerful than these demons lurked.

“Come on! Owner of the whistle! I know you’re watching!” roared the Beast King. “Come out! If it’s just this much, it’ll be impossible to kill me!”

As though proving those words, the Beast King went on a rampage and started massacring the demons one after another.

It was a carnage.

With every swing of his claws, several demons were slaughtered. With every punch, a demon was sent flying. With every roar, the ground rumbled and formed cracks. The bloodlust he exuded, coupled with the numerous corpses he left in his wake, made even the demons hesitate in attacking him further.

While lost in his desire for revenge and slaughter, the Beast King heard a familiar voice.

“Beast King, that’s enough. Please turn back.”

The Beast King turned around and looked at the owner of the voice. It was the same human who’d warned them about the demons and helped them quickly reach Talverton Stronghold.

“King Lark,” muttered the Beast King. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to warn you, Your Majesty. Please turn back,” said Lark. “I know how powerful you are, but it’s dangerous to stay here any further.”

Although the United Grakas Alliance and the Kingdom of Lukas were hostile with each other, the Beast King felt indebted to Lark for warning them and providing military aid.

The Beast King had already realized long ago that King Lark was different from the Tyrant King of the Lukasians. At the very least, this was a human who didn’t discriminate against beastmen.

There must be a plausible reason why he was so insistent in retreating.

The Beast King forcefully calmed himself.

“I’m listening,” the Beast King exhaled loudly. “Tell me about it.”

“A Pathfinder is controlling these demons,” said Lark.

Five orbs of lightning manifested themselves around Lark. Immediately they shot toward the sky demons swooping toward him, piercing their heads and killing them in an instant.

The sky demons fell to the ground, making several loud thud sounds.

A dozen parasitic demons unearthed themselves from the ground and scurried toward Lark, but before they could even close the distance, several wind blades flew toward them, cleanly cutting their bodies in half.

The Beast King had seen how this human fought before, but he still couldn’t help but be amazed every time he saw it. Without even moving, he killed the demons around him.

“A Pathfinder,” repeated the Beast King.

“Yes. In human terms, you can think of them as military strategists,” said Lark.

The Beast King furrowed his brows.

Military strategist?

The demons had been attacking with without any patterns or plans at all. He couldn’t understand how a military strategist was controlling these demons.

Lark continued, “If you go deeper than this, you’ll definitely fall into its trap. For now, we should reorganize the army and plan for a proper counterattack.”

The Beast King fell silent for several seconds.

The Beast King felt that if he pursued the retreating demon army further, he would eventually reach the source of the whistle. But maybe, this was what the so-called Pathfinder was aiming for.

Was all of this a ruse?

A trap to make the Beast King believe that he was invincible?

A trap to make him believe he could easily delve deeper into the demon horde?

Looking at it from this angle, the Beast King finally noticed that the demons made subtle openings in their formation. It was as though someone was urging and guiding him to go deeper inside. To continue fighting, until he found himself with no way out.

When the Beast King realized that he’d almost fallen into a trap, he felt shivers crawl down his spine.

“I was too consumed by rage….” The Beast King’s face contorted from dismay and embarrassment. “If you hadn’t warned me….”

“It isn’t too late,” said Lark. “Let’s go back.”

The Beast King nodded.

For now, he decided to listen to King Lark.

As the two were preparing to go back to the stronghold, they suddenly felt the presence of something shooting toward their direction.

Its speed was far faster than that of a jaguar beastman, and its presence felt stronger than those of fire giants.

The Beast King warily stood his ground. “Something is coming, King Lark.”

The Beast King infused more mana into his claws, and looked in the direction where the presence was coming from.

The presence sped up even further, whizzing past several demons along the way. Eventually, it reached the place where the Beast King and Lark were.

‘A faceless human?’

This was the first impression the Beast King had upon seeing the humanoid creature. It was naked, and had no gender and face. And unlike humans, its skin was silver.

“A Skinwalker….” said Lark. “The offspring of a Pathfinder.”

The Beast King looked at the Skinwalker, at Lark, then back.

“If it’s the offspring of the demon you’re wary about,” said the Beast King. “Then it’s pretty strong, huh?”

“It’s a powerful demon.” Lark nodded. “Normally, Skinwalkers remain by the Pathfinder’s side to guard it. For it to come here personally. It seems the Pathfinder wishes to kill you, Your Majesty.”

The Beast King fearlessly grinned. “Is that so? Then, I should take it as an honor!”

Mana gushed out of the Beast King as he prepared for battle. Although he’d used up around half of his mana reserves already, he didn’t hesitate in going all-out to fight against this one.

The Beast King instinctively felt it.

Unlike the other demons he’d been slaughtering one-sidedly, this demon was capable of killing him.

The Beast King realized that he’d been fortunate that King Lark warned him not to delve too deep into the demon horde. Otherwise, he would have found himself surrounded by numerous demons by now, along with this Skinwalker.

The Skinwalker’s body twitched. Its body rippled like water, and slowly, it started assuming a different form and shape.

“W-What… is this,” said the Beast King in disbelief.

The Skinwalker had started assuming the form of an elephant beastman.

Six long, white tusks.

A pair of big, fan-like ears.

And a wide, long trunk.

A large scar ran across its face, and the tattoos that symbolized the Three Gods were engraved on its muscular body. It was five-meter-large and stood on its rear feet.

“T-Thaorrok,” said the Beast King.

The beastman the Skinwalker had turned into was someone precious to the Beast King.

General Thaorrok, the highest-ranking official in the South and the administrator of the Rocky Fort.

He was the so-called shield that protected the Alliance from the monsters of the Wasteland.

One of the Beast King’s closest friends and confidant.

“Thaorrok!” shouted the Beast King.

He nearly lost his composure upon seeing his supposedly dead friend before him.

“Calm down, Your Majesty,” said Lark. “That thing is simply imitating your friend. It’s the trick of a Skinwalker.”

The Beast King clenched his fists. He trembled in rage.

“The Falcon Shifter said that Thaorrok already perished in battle,” said the Beast King. “He died while valiantly defending Rocky Fort. But… that thing!”

The Beast King roared, “Why does it have the face of General Thaorrok!”

Lark didn’t answer the Beast King’s question.

He knew the reason for this: The Pathfinder probably took interest in General Thaorrok after seeing his strength. And after killing him, the Pathfinder fed the corpse to one of his offspring, giving it the ability to morph into the elephant beastman’s body.

The ability of the Skinwalkers to become as strong as the prey they killed was what made them truly dangerous.

Although there was a limit to their ability to copy their prey’s magic, Skinwalkers could nearly perfectly mimic their prey’s physical body, skills, and martial prowess.

And at least three of such beings were guarding a single Pathfinder.

This was the reason why Lark didn’t want to chase after the retreating demon army after hearing the whistle.

Even if they won here, he would end up using a large amount of mana that he had been saving to close the portal.

Lark quickly scanned his surroundings. The terrain, flow of mana, and the number of opponents hiding near them.

“It’s too late to retreat now,” said Lark.

The Beast King bared his fangs. He was still trembling with rage as he glared at the elephant beastman. He growled, “And I have no plans of doing so, King Lark. That damn demon! I’ll make him pay for what he did to Thaorrok!”

Through its trunk, the elephant beastman made a loud, trumpeting sound. The sound, infused with mana, was defeaning, and it even created a shockwave that blew past the Beast King and Lark.

As though the sound was a prelude to the battle, eight middle-ranking nests started unearthing themselves behind the elephant beastman, one after another. From a distance, two Fire Giants, together with over a thousand flesh eaters and tormentors started running in the direction of the Beast King and Lark.

Screeches were heard, and looking up, the Beast King and Lark saw a large flock of sky demons looming in, casting a shadow on them from the sky.

Hundreds of wraiths and dozens of phantasms circled around them and formed a defensive line blocking the Beast King and Lark’s retreat path.

In just a short period of time, the two of them found themselves surrounded by demons on all sides.