Chapter 281
Vasoth’s eyes darted to Sera, searching her battered form for any hint that his theory held truth. He pictured it: Sera, blade flashing as she pursued the human boy, only to stumble into a swarm of his allies—too many to fend off. A faint smile flickered across his lips at the thought, clinging to the chance she’d escaped a trap.
And this made sense too, since Vasoth’s memory flashed to the moment he’d sized up the human boy—cornered, trembling, his aura barely a whisper compared to Sera’s roaring presence. No way could that weakling have left her this broken.
Not to mention human livestock, even among demons, few could match her. Vasoth had seen her cleave through foes twice her size, her strength a legend whispered even in the dark halls of their kind.
But the longer he studied her—bruised, slouched, her usual fire dimmed—doubt gnawed at him, a cold ache spreading through his chest.
It must be that the human had secret allies and led her to a trap intentionally! His fists tightened, nails biting into his palms as the idea took root: a cunning ambush, the human’s desperate bait.
“Captain…! We should quickly regroup and chase…!” Vasoth’s voice surged with urgency, his boots shifting as if ready to charge back into the fray.
Vasoth was certain of it. He quickly suggested regrouping their strongest soldiers and returning to finish off the wounded humans.
If they hadn’t gone too far after their fight, they must be injured too by the captain, so it would be easy to capture or kill them.
He stepped closer, words tumbling out. “If they’re wounded from fighting you, we can crush them now!”
But just as his fervor peaked, Sera cut him off. Her lips twisted into a grin that chilled his blood, a wild, unhinged laugh spilling from her throat. “No use. He’s gone, or I wouldn’t be here.”
Vasoth froze, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. A thick lump clogged his throat, choking any reply.
He’s gone?
Or she wouldn’t be here?
What did she mean by that?
His breath hitched as her words echoed in his skull, each syllable a hammer striking doubt deeper.
He didn’t dare voice the fear clawing at him, but realization sank in like ice: that human boy—the only one—had spared her.
This meant no allies, no grand ambush—just her and him. Vasoth’s mind spun, picturing Sera’s strikes faltering, the human’s unexpected resilience pushing her back step by agonizing step.
The weakling had bested her.
Utterly impossible.
His jaw clenched as he wrestled with the absurdity: the human let her walk away?
How come?
Vasoth’s pulse quickened, his thoughts a frantic tangle.
Demons didn’t spare their prey.
Why hadn’t he finished her? What was his game?
He raked a hand through his hair, desperate to unravel the human’s plan.
Why didn’t he exorcise her? What was his motive?
What exactly was he planning to let her live now?
Vasoth’s mind raced; he was scared. Every action of the human felt like a part of a deeper and more deliberate plan.
His heart thudded louder, sweat beading on his brow.
Something more sinister than simply taking the life of their captain.
Something darker than just killing her.
What was he after?
Vasoth’s stomach twisted at the thought: if the human had struck her down, their battalion—hell, the entire demon race—would’ve reeled from the loss.
He’d had her at his mercy, a prodigy of their kind, and let her go.
Why?
His hands trembled as he groped for an answer.
Why let such a valuable enemy walk free?
‘No!’ Vasoth’s head jerked side to side, as if he could shake off his own stupidity.
He gritted his teeth, cursing his own blindness. The true fool wasn’t the human—it was him, always misjudging, always left reeling.
He had no right to call that boy and his plans foolish; the only one who was foolish here was him, who kept undermining or underestimating the human at every single point and then getting defeated every time.
He was being manipulated to think that way by the human; it was exactly what the human wanted him to think.
To think that he was weak.
But in fact…
He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
The human wasn’t prey.
He was a hunter, cloaked in frailty, stalking them all.
Vasoth could not help but be even more fearful; he could not think of anything to justify this action of that human.
The action of letting Sera live made no sense to him no matter what he thought about.
Was the human spent, too broken to finish her?
‘No!’ He slammed the thought down, jaw tight.
Vasoth did not believe in such a case this time.
Every time he made such an assumption involving the human being weak or struggling, it was always wrong or opposite to what he assumed, so this time, he did not dare to think that way or assume this particular case at all.
Every time he assumed the human faltered, he was wrong—dead wrong.
His fingers twitched as he forced himself to think differently. This time, the kid was too sharp, too sly, weaving a lie they’d all swallow.
But that’s why Vasoth saw it now: the truth was the opposite.
Now, how could Vasoth know that Oliver never meant to seem this cunning? He’d been cornered, desperate, beating Sera only by pushing himself to the brink.
He was really helpless against those demons before, and winning against Sera was only possible through extreme measures.
Not to mention, he’d collapsed after, strength bled dry.
Plus, no one could possibly guess that the reason why Oliver had allowed Sera to leave was because he wanted her as his next binding target—not for any other ulterior motives or dark plans as Vasoth thought Oliver had.
“Captain, then what should we do?” Vasoth’s voice wavered, cracking under the weight of their failure.
In the end, he could only ask Sera.
They had to report back to the headquarters as well; they were already way past their schedule and had to report back to both the city lord and the headquarters about their original missions and this long delay.
He rubbed his temple, a dull ache blooming as he pictured the fallout: late reports, the city lord’s rage, their rivals’ sneers echoing through headquarters.