Snap!
Crack!
The campfire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows over the surrounding clearing. Damien sat on a fallen log near the fire, throwing more dried up wood into the fire,its warmth barely penetrating the chill of the night air.
Around him, the corpses of mana beasts and demons littered the ground, their forms twisted and broken, evidence of a hard-fought battle. The stench of blood and charred flesh hung heavy in the air, but Damien seemed unbothered, his sharp eyes scanning the darkness beyond the firelight.
His four summons surrounded him. Fenrir, his Monstrous Wolf, lounged near the edge of the firelight, its massive frame relaxed but its glowing eyes alert.
Luton, the Stellar Slime, hovered near Damien, its gelatinous form shimmering faintly with spatial magic. Cerbe, the Three-Headed Hound, sat near the fire, the embers of its (Flames of Hell) still glowing faintly at the edges of its mouths as it had just burnt a demon to death. Aquila, his Griffin, stood a short distance away, preening its feathers as if the corpses scattered around were beneath its notice.
Four hours ago, Damien had received a second mission from his system, an unexpected follow-up to the Main Mission.
Ding!
«You have received a New Mission! A Sub-Mission!»
«Mission: Demon Hunt»
«Description: Slay 48 demons within the next seven hours!»
«Reward: Minor Flame Magic Skill»
Damien had grinned so widely upon reading the mission that his face had nearly hurt. “Flame magic,” he’d murmured to himself at the time. “It’s about time I got something extra.”
Even though the reward was labeled “minor,” the idea of gaining a magic skill unrelated to his summoning talent was thrilling. It wasn’t just about versatility—this was proof that the system’s possibilities went beyond what he had imagined.
With renewed determination, Damien had set to work. After recovering some of his Life Force, he had converted most of it into magic essence to ensure he was well-prepared.
He then summoned all four of his allies: Fenrir, Cerbe, Aquila, and Luton. Though Fenrir and Cerbe had advanced to Grade Four Summons, Luton and Aquila remained at Grade Five. Still, together, they formed a formidable team.
Damien had quickly formulated a strategy. He gathered wood and kindling to build a roaring campfire, its light and smoke serving as a beacon to lure creatures from the surrounding forest.
Beasts and demons alike were drawn to the fire, either out of curiosity or the promise of prey. For the past few hours, Damien and his summons had worked tirelessly, cutting down every creature that approached.
Now, as he sat by the fire, he looked around at the aftermath of their efforts. The corpses of over three dozen creatures littered the clearing, and roughly two dozen of those were demons. Their mangled bodies was proof of the brutal efficiency of his team.
Fenrir and Luton had devoured many of their kills, tearing through flesh and essence cores with equal ferocity. Aquila’s claws and beak had left deep gashes in its prey, while Damien’s own blade gleamed with the blood of fallen enemies. Cerbe’s (Flames of Hell) had reduced some of the creatures to smoldering husks, their twisted forms barely recognizable.
Despite the carnage, Damien felt a strange sense of calm. He had faced worse odds before, and this mission, though challenging, felt manageable. As he exhaled, his breath forming a faint mist in the cold air, he began counting the number of demons he’d slain.
“Two dozen down,” he muttered to himself. His gaze shifted to the fire, his expression hardening. “Two dozen to go.”
There was no restriction on the grade of demon he needed to kill, which was fortunate. Most of the demons he had encountered so far had been Grade Five, with the occasional Grade Four mixed in. The lower-ranked creatures had proven relatively easy to handle, but he couldn’t afford to be careless.
Standing, Damien turned to Fenrir and Aquila. “You two,” he said, his voice steady. “It’s time to hunt.”
The Griffin and the Monstrous Wolf perked up at his command, their keen eyes locking onto him.
“I need you both to venture into the forest,” Damien continued. “Track down any demons you can find and take them out. Work separately. The more ground we cover, the faster we’ll finish this.”
Fenrir let out a low growl of acknowledgment, its massive paws crunching against the blood-soaked ground as it rose to its feet. Aquila gave a sharp screech, its wings flaring slightly as it prepared to take off.
“Be thorough,” Damien added. “And stay sharp. Don’t take unnecessary risks. If I sense any of you in danger, I’m cancelling the summon.”
With a final nod from Damien, Fenrir and Aquila moved into the darkness, heading in opposite directions. The rustling of leaves and the faint sound of wingbeats quickly faded, leaving the camp eerily quiet.
Damien glanced at Luton and Cerbe, the two remaining summons beside him. “Looks like it’s just us now,” he said, his tone light despite the tension in the air.
Luton shimmered in response, its form pulsating faintly, while Cerbe growled lowly, its three heads scanning the surrounding forest.
Moments later, a distant cry echoed through the trees, sharp and guttural. Damien’s lips curved into a small smile. “That’s one down,” he murmured, recognizing the sound as one of Aquila’s kills.
Before he could savor the victory, movement at the edge of the firelight caught his attention. Two figures emerged from the darkness, their forms hunched and grotesque.
Demons.
Both were Grade Five, their bodies twisted and gnarled, with glowing red eyes that burned with malice. Their clawed hands twitched as they moved closer, their growls deep and guttural.
Damien’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, the blade glinting faintly in the firelight as he drew it. His lips curled into a determined grin.
“I don’t plan on failing,” he said, his voice steady and resolute.
Cerbe snarled, its three heads snapping toward the demons as flames began to flicker at the edges of its mouths once again. Luton shifted beside Damien, its form rippling as it prepared to strike.
The demons charged, their claws gleaming as they lunged toward him.