Chapter 35: The Demon Risen from Ashes [2]
The man’s scream of agony and Cassian’s maniacal laughter echoed like a bloody duet in the eerie silence of the forest.
The flickering light of the campfire glinted off the blood splattered across the young man’s face and silver hair, transforming him into a bloodthirsty demon torn from the pages of a nightmare.
The remaining slave traders stared, frozen, at the unbelievable scene, their hands hovering over the hilts of their swords but paralyzed by fear.
The silence was broken by the sound of twisting metal from within the cage.
The rusty iron bars were no different from wet clay in Cassian’s hands. With a creaking groan, they bent to the side, creating an opening just large enough for him.
In a single, fluid motion, the young man leaped from the cramped cell onto the blood-soaked ground illuminated by the campfire.
The muscular, heavyset man who appeared to be their leader was the first to shake off the initial wave of shock.
Fear and anger warred on his face.
He roared at his men, "What are you waiting for, you fools?! He’s just a boy! Kill him!"
The command jolted the men from their paralysis. The two closest charged at Cassian with savage cries.
One swung a massive, two-handed battle-axe that reflected the moonlight, bringing it down over his head. The other aimed lower, brandishing a rusty cutlass in a wide arc intended to disembowel him.
Before they could even complete their first steps, Cassian simply raised a hand, a bored expression on his face.
No words left his lips, no incantation was muttered.
He merely commanded the earth with his will.
The ground beneath their feet trembled.
Before they could comprehend what was happening, two massive, razor-sharp rock spikes erupted from the earth directly beneath them.
The sickening sound of cracking bone and tearing flesh drowned out their screams.
The spikes pierced through their bodies, emerging from their backs and impaling them where they stood like grotesque statues. Their eyes remained open in a final expression of shock, bloody foam trickling from their mouths.
As Cassian took a calm step forward, everyone who remained took an instinctive step back.
Such swift, silent magic was not the work of an ordinary sorcerer. This required immense skill, an innate talent. They now understood with bitter clarity that the silver-haired, blood-drenched boy before them was no ordinary victim.
They stood frozen, knowing that one wrong move would mean sharing the same fate as their skewered comrades.
The crazed grin on Cassian’s face widened. Their fear was like a fine wine, nourishing his soul.
"What’s the matter, tough guys?" he asked, his voice a lilting, mocking melody. "Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little boy."
His words were like lashes against their pride. The leader’s face contorted with rage. He gave his men a sharp nod—a signal to cast aside their hesitation and attack all at once.
Three men with mana cores moved simultaneously.
The group’s only mage stayed back, a ball of fire beginning to crackle between his hands. The other two closed in on Cassian from the right and left.
He effortlessly dodged the massive, two-handed sword that descended like a hammer, simply by leaning to the side. The wind from the blade rustled his hair.
The twin dagger attack that snaked toward him from the other side was comically slow. Cassian caught the man’s dagger-wielding wrist in mid-air.
The man’s eyes widened in shock. He tried to pull his hand back, but Cassian’s fingers were locked around his wrist like a steel clamp.
"How about you cool down a bit?" the silver-haired youth whispered.
An icy cold spread from the hand gripping his wrist, enveloping the man’s arm in seconds. Blue ice crystals formed on his skin, the blood in his veins freezing solid. Then, he shrouded the same arm in black lightning from his thunder ability.
The sound of cracking and exploding mixed together. The man’s frozen arm shattered into a thousand pieces, spraying shards of ice and blood everywhere.
"AAAAAARGH!"
The man screamed in agony as he lost his arm, collapsing to his knees. But he wasn’t allowed to savor his pain.
Cassian had felt the mage behind him launch the fireball. Grabbing the one-armed man by the collar, he used him as a human shield.
The fireball exploded against his own comrade’s back. Flames instantly engulfed him, his agonized screams muffled by the sizzle of burning flesh.
He died in agony, struck down by his own ally’s attack.
Cassian tossed the burning corpse aside like a rag. His eyes locked onto the mage, who was staring back in shock.
He instantly formed a small, sharp ice dagger in the air. Empowering it with wind magic for extra velocity, he threw it.
The dagger split the air with a whizz and embedded itself directly in the man’s forehead. His eyes wide with surprise, he collapsed without a sound.
An expression of pure amusement was on Cassian’s face. This was truly enjoyable for him.
All that was left was the burly leader, the only other mana user. His knees were trembling with fear.
"Your turn," Cassian said cheerfully.
The leader, trying to suppress his fear with rage, roared and charged, raising his massive sword. Cassian was ready this time.
Waving his hand, he instantly created a sword of ice. A high-pitched screech rang out as the two swords clashed.
However, his blade, formed of pure mana, was weak against the forged iron weapon. Though it parried the first blow, cracks spread across its surface on the second, and the sword shattered into a thousand pieces of ice.
As the sword disintegrated, he couldn’t completely dodge the man’s two-handed swing. The tip grazed his abdomen, leaving a deep gash. Warm blood soaked his clothes.
At the same instant, ignoring the pain, he lunged toward the man’s face. Stiffening his index and middle fingers like a spear, he expertly thrust them into the man’s unprotected eye.
A choked groan of pain and shock escaped the man’s lips. He lost all balance, dropping his sword and clutching his bleeding eye socket with both hands.
Cassian took a step back.
The wound on his abdomen, before the man’s remaining eye, began to close at a visible rate. The skin knitted together, the bleeding stopped.
His [Unique Regeneration] ability was at work.
The man, witnessing this impossible sight, screamed as if he had lost his mind. "WHAT... WHAT ARE YOU, DAMN IT?! ARE YOU A MONSTER?!"
Cassian replied with a maniacal grin, "The dead have no need for information."
The moment the man pulled his hand from his bleeding eye socket, Cassian placed his own hand on his chest. He sent the pure power of two opposing elements into his body simultaneously.
On one hand, the deadly cold of [Absolute Zero] freezing the blood in his veins; on the other, the searing heat of [Chaos Flames] cooking his organs from the inside...
The man’s body began to convulse uncontrollably. Inhuman sounds of agony escaped his mouth. A few seconds later, unable to withstand the horrific torture, he drew his last breath, and his lifeless body slumped to the ground.
"Ahh, that was fun," Cassian muttered to himself. He turned his gaze to the last four men, non-mana users who were cowering in fear where they stood.
Their knees were knocking together violently.
He spoke with a laugh, his voice carrying over the crackle of the campfire. "Don’t worry, I’m a merciful person."
His words hung in the air like an icy promise. "I’ll give you a chance to live."
He thought for a moment.
"Hmm, let’s do this... The four of you who are left, fight amongst yourselves. The last one standing, I will allow to live."
The man whose arm had been severed moments ago protested in pain and fear. "That’s... that’s not fair! They have two arms, I’m at a disadvantage!"
A look of enlightenment dawned on Cassian’s face. "Ahh, my apologies. Entirely my fault."
In an instant, he passed by the other three men like a ghost. Before they could even realize what had happened, an arm from each of them had been severed at the shoulder by a sharp blade of ice.
Their screams of agony once again filled the campsite.
Cassian looked at them with a bored expression. "If you continue to whine in pain, I’ll kill all of you. Now, fight!"
Those words triggered their survival instincts. They began to attack each other dishonorably, savagely. One threw a handful of mud in another’s eye; another stabbed a hidden dagger into the back of his former friend who was writhing in pain.
This wasn’t a fight; it was a desperate scramble for life.
Cassian watched the pathetic scene with a smirk, thoroughly enjoying it.
After a short and bloody struggle, only one person remained. He was on his knees amidst the corpses of the others, covered in blood.
Cassian approached the man, applauding sarcastically. "Congratulations, champion."
The man swallowed hard.
"I’m going to ask you a few questions," he said, the amusement gone from his voice, replaced by a steely seriousness. "You’d do well to answer correctly. I don’t like liars."
"Alright, first question: Where did you find me, and why was I among your slaves?"
The man answered quickly, trying not to stutter. "We were on our way to Count Marcus’s territory to sell slaves. Finding you was a complete coincidence. You were lying unconscious on the side of the road, at the edge of the forest. We... we just put you in the cage, thinking we could sell you."
"Hmm, I see. Second question: What do you know about the Inferna Duchy? Any important recent events?"
"I-I don’t know much, sir! Only... only that they won a great war against the Obsidian Dawn cult about two months ago. Their victory was spoken of throughout the empire, they proved their strength."
Two months... So that much time had passed.
"Well then," Cassian said, taking another step toward the man. "Third and final question: Give me one reason why I should let you live."
The man’s face went white as a sheet. He yelled in a panic: "BUT... BUT YOU SAID YOU’D LET ME LIVE IF I KILLED THEM AND SURVIVED!"
Cassian let out a laugh. "Ahaha, yes, I did. But I never said for how long."
As his words ended, he plunged the ice dagger in his hand into the man’s throat.
The man died with an expression of absolute despair and betrayal in his eyes.