Arslan severed the head of an imp, dodging the scalding blood spraying everywhere. He quickly picked up a wounded guard and dragged him away from the battle.


    “Blaria! Injured!”


    Rabbit beastkin heard his cry and ran to his side, quickly kneeling to bandage the wound to stop the bleeding. Arslan let him take care of the wounded man while he rejoined the fighting. His twin swords clad in golden aura tore through the horde of demons but despite his and the guard''s efforts the number of demons charging toward them didn’t decrease a bit. Arslan''s gaze flickered towards the menacing gates, their crimson glow casting an ominous shadow over the battlefield. He gritted his teeth in frustration, knowing that the key to stemming the tide of demons likely lay in closing those infernal portals. The only person probably knew that was Amaterasu and according to the explosions and immense amounts of mana coming from the other side of the city, she was locked in a difficult fight. Arslan wanted to run in that direction but he knew that he shouldn’t. Not only Amaterasu was stronger than him, but he also had a duty to command the guards and protect the unarmed beastkin.


    Even though the increase in size, population, and relationships with other communities made a formal hierarchy and command chain necessary to run things smoothly, Whifur didn’t have that yet. Beastkin followed those they respected and had power, their loyalty driven more by respect and camaraderie than by any official mandate. Despite both others and Arslan calling himself head of the city guard, it was just an unofficial title. In truth, the city guard was made up of young people who were willing to fight instead of being an established force.


    A demon bigger than the ones they have been fighting tore through their ranks, tossing the guards like rag dolls. Arslan towards it, jumping on top of it and plunging his swords deep into its neck. Arslan’s eyes traced the battlefield as the demon collapsed into bones and ash. The number of men he gathered while he ran through the streets was noticeably lower now.


    Where was Morrigan? Where was Captain B?rü?


    “Gather the wounded! We are retreating! We will be wiped out if this goes like this!”


    Arslan''s voice rang out clear and authoritative, cutting through the chaos of battle. The guards immediately sprang into action, rallying around him as he issued his command. With practiced efficiency, they began to gather the wounded, carrying them to safety while keeping a wary eye on the advancing horde of demons. Arslan himself was on the back of the group, cutting down any demons that tried to catch up to them.


    By being the end of the group Arslan thought that he could make sure that no one was left behind. Also, he could block any demons from reaching towards them even if it meant that he would be left behind. To protect warriors who listened to his orders, he believed that this was his duty.


    However, with how hectic the things were Arslan couldn’t calculate that because of the destroyed city and the amount of demons, the front side also could be overtaken by the enemies.


    “Kill, maim, burn! All of you weaklings! Perish!”


    Before Arslan could run towards to block it, a massive form wielding two axes tore into the group. Even though some of the more skilled guards raised their weapons, they were shattered in a single strike that also cleaved them into halves. Like a storm made out of axes, he shattered what little resistance they managed to put. His strikes were so violent and strong that blood splattered everywhere, coating the streets and survivors.


    “Stop!”


    Arslan managed to catch up to him, a shockwave sending others flying as swords clashed against axes.


    “You… Grizzon?”


    Arslan’s eyes widened with anger and shock. The bear beastkin he defeated stood in front of him. Why he was here?


    “You bastard!”


    Arslan growled. Not only did he work together with his older brother to damage their own people but he also worked together with demons? Arslan felt his blood boil with rage. He launched himself towards him, headbutting him so hard that he broke axe wielding beastkin’s nose. As Grizzon stumbled back in pain Arslan unleashed a flurry of sword strikes.


    “You hurt your own nephew, tried to ruin everything, worked with Regal and now you kill our people with demons? I will kill you, Grizzon! Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you!”


    With each strike of his swords, Arslan poured his rage into the blows, driving Grizzon back with the force of his fury. The clash of steel echoed through the chaos of battle, a testament to the intensity of their confrontation. Arslan''s muscles strained with each swing, his determination unyielding as he fought to bring down the traitor who had betrayed them all. He should have killed him when they fought before. If he did that the people he killed would be alive now.


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    He was just afraid. Afraid of killing his own kin. Even though he said that it was for Ursara, the idea of killing beastkin was too much for him. Maybe he was a hypocrite, claiming that he worked for equality while he secretly thought that beastkin lives were more important than others. But it didn’t matter now. The only thing that mattered was killing him and getting others to safety.


    In his rage, Arslan once again couldn’t notice something important: How Grizzon fought. In their previous fight, he fought with tricks coupled with physical might but now he only charged forward.


    “Kill, maim, burn! Skulls! Blood! Fire!”


    Grizzon roared, making Arslan pause for a second. Without any warning, the blood covering the street started to quake. Any person with common sense could see that it wasn’t something good. However, instead of backing off Arslan charged forward, aiming to cut the head of Grizzon before it could finish what he was doing. Despite his sword being loaded with enough mana to cut down a boulder twice as big as Grizzon, Arslan couldn’t succeed. With a sudden surge of power, the blood-soaked ground erupted, tendrils of dark energy snaking their way toward Arslan with deadly intent.


    Arslan''s instincts screamed at him to retreat, to evade the impending danger, but his pride and anger drove him forward. With a defiant roar, he clashed against the encroaching darkness, his swords clad in golden aura slicing through the air with precision and skill.


    Yet, despite his valiant efforts, the dark energy proved too much to overcome. He was pushed back. He got ready to block them but to his surprise they weren’t aiming for him, they were aiming for Grizzon. They pierced his body as he let out an ear-splitting scream. He threw his axes to the ground and tore off what little armor and clothing he had, revealing a pulsating red mark on his chest. The horror didn’t end there, however. Grizzon kept screaming as he tore into his own skin, peeling it bit by bit as tendrils kept pumping him with energy.


    Arslan watched in horror and shock as Grizzon’s skin was torn off and a massive form exited out of his body while shedding what remained of him. The form gazed upon himself as if it was admiring it.


    “Ah, to be in the realm of fleshlings again. How long has been? 500 years? 600? This is what happens when you are too strong. You can’t just go everywhere you want.”


    Even though the words he spoke indicated that he was content, his voice was twisted with a snarl of hatred and fury. Looking at his towering form, Arslan couldn’t help but shake. His knees shook uncontrollably despite his best efforts. The being in front of him was no common demon. He had two pairs of horns glistening with blood, one pair protruding from the sides of his head while others from under his chin. His entire leathery skin was red. His body was adorned with cruel spikes and jagged edges that reflected his savage nature. His muscular physique bulged with raw power, every sinew and muscle honed to perfection for the sole purpose of destruction. Arslan didn’t look at his face. If he did he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from running away.


    Massive wings sprouted from his back but their leathery membranes were damaged. Arslan couldn’t imagine who was able to accomplish that kind of thing. His hooved feet were Digitigrade to support his massive frame.


    “Well, time to fill my part of the contract.”


    Flame burst out of his clawed hands. Despite being familiar with fire thanks to Amaterasu, Arslan could feel a sense of wrongness with this flame. When he looked carefully, he understood the source of his discomfort. Inside the fire were several skulls, their mouth agape as if they were eternally screaming.


    The worst was yet to come, however. The demon reached inside the fire with his other hand, pulling out a massive two-handed axe as vicious-looking as himself. He raised the axe overhead, demonic energy focusing on the bloody edge of it. Cold sweat rolled down Arslan’s forehead as he realized that this strike had enough destructive capability to destroy half of the Whifur. He gulped. He have seen this kind of power in Amaterasu’s strongest spells but casting them took a huge toll on her. Yet the demon could do the same casually. Arslan feared that if he went all out, he had the power to destroy all of Whifur in a single swing of his axe.


    (You couldn''t resist the Demonic Suppression. All stats decreases by 25 percent.)


    “Run unless you want to join those skulls. Run. Save yourself. You can’t even fight that thing let alone win. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Run He sees you as an insect. Run. Run. RUN.”


    A voice inside of him screamed, nearly drowning out every moral and principle he had.


    Yet he refused. People trusted him. They helped him, trained with him, followed him. He had to fight even if it meant he would die. He had to do something. He looked down on his golden aura.


    Aura.


    A fusion of mana and willpower. While he wasn’t confident in his mana pool, he was sure that he had a lot of willpower. If he focused all of it on his blades and charged forward, he could offset the strike by sacrificing himself. He didn’t know what would happen after that but he trusted his comrades.


    (You acquired passive personal skill Valor.)


    (A skill that can only be acquired by heroes who have faced overwhelming fear, uncertainty, and doubt, yet continued to fight on with unwavering determination and courage. Increases resistance against all mental debuffs by 30 percent. When fighting against an enemy that’s stronger than you your Strength increases by 20 percent.)


    (You can now resist the Demonic Suppression. You recover your stats.)


    With his newly acquired skill, Arslan got ready to strike but at that moment a small, white, and bloodied puppy flew and hit the demon.