Apocalypse Healer - Path of Death-Chapter 45B1 - Hunt or Be Hunted

It didn’t take long for the Mini-Boss to succumb. Felix and his Warriors were growing stronger; whether it was a boost in confidence or their Skill Runes improving, it didn’t matter. The massive Darkai was suffering.

Its strength faded with each passing second. The wounds spread across its body worsened, and it almost looked like it was deflating.

[You have contributed to the Herculean Darkai (Mini Boss)’s defeat.]

The message was pleasant to his eyes, and so was the distortion in space as something materialized near the collapsing Herculean Darkai. David couldn’t see what had materialized as one of the Warriors immediately picked it up. It almost looked like the Warrior threw his longsword aside to catch the drop before anyone else could take it.

David didn’t mind. He wasn’t particularly interested in the drop. His attention lingered on the Obsidian Blade and its crimson connecting link. It glimmered vibrantly, appearing thicker and more intense than before.

In fact, he could sense the thread growing. The battle was over, but his soulbound weapon’s growth had yet to end. The Herculean Darkai had yet to be drained of all of its blood.

David let it absorb as much potent blood as possible while attempting to access the surrounding Aether. He felt the Aether flow into his energy pathways, slowing and settling almost stubbornly, refusing to move as he’d hoped.

David accessed the natural Aether in his pathways and tried to pull them closer to the Holy Sea. At first, a trace of Aether obeyed. It was only a tiny fraction, but it was something. However, before it got too close to his Holy Sea, the Aether retaliated. It wouldn’t budge an inch and reacted violently. David feared the destruction of his energy pathways for a moment. Instead of risking everything, he cleansed his body.

He tried to expel everything in one go, but his body appeared to revolt against that as well. It didn’t want to surrender the Aether it needed for survival—to overcome the fight ahead.

This is such nonsense!

Thus, since nothing worked the way he wanted, David used [Cleanse]. Reaching Rank V, [Cleanse] was stronger than ever. It ought to expel everything that harmed the target’s body. His Holy Sea pulled the natural Aether closer. It was a slow process, and it would take a while before the Aether would reach his Holy Sea, but if it reacted as violently as the trace of Aether had…David would suffer much more than he already had.

[Hibernating traces of Demonic Essence have been detected and cleansed.]

The natural Aether in his energy pathways responded amiably to his Holy Sea’s suctioning force when the notification popped up. Simultaneously, a dark gas oozed out of his pores and into the surroundings. Additionally, the ambient Aether no longer entered his body; it resisted David’s attempt and absorbed even more.

The shockwave altered the ambient Aether…somehow. It doesn’t resist Mages or being converted to Mana but resists holy power!

The realization hit hard. What would happen to the traces of Demonic Essence once they’ve rooted deep into the Mages’ Mana Cores? Would they do something in the first place? David had no clue. All he could tell was that he had to drain his body of holy power as long as he wished to absorb the ambient Aether on the battlefield.

That was interesting but also complicated.

It has to work.

His eyes drifted to Felix, who hadn’t even glanced at the Herculean Darkai’s loot. David noticed Felix’s pained expression and labored breaths, but despite this, Felix continued.

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He charged into the masses of ordinary demons, who had no time to react before succumbing to his blade.

Felix was a force to be reckoned with, even if it was obvious that his strength was fading. Felix had long since reached peak condition and was now deteriorating. He’d survived the Herculean Darkai and contributed majorly to its death, but that was it. His power deteriorated, and the Fragment of Power he’d consumed started to feast on him, taking away every bit of power it had granted him.

David expected Felix to be sad, perhaps even on the verge of tears, yet the Warrior’s gaze was only filled with grim determination.

The Demon Horde was horrifying. It overwhelmed the defenders. Several Mini Bosses had appeared across the battlefield, and it was only a matter of time before the defenders would lose. Everyone who survived long enough to defeat a few Demons had grown stronger, but even two dozen Bronze Ranks weren’t enough to handle both the Mini-Bosses and the Darkai simultaneously. If there were that many Bronze Ranks in the first place.

David’s eyes fell on a towering figure in the distance—a creature so massive and imposing, it couldn’t possibly be a Mini-Boss. It had to be the Rift Boss! Unease crept up his spine, and his heart skipped a beat as the creature moved around with great agility.

A small, well-armored figure barreled through the air as David inspected the Rift Boss. It had to be the Rift Boss. A creature like that couldn’t have been a mere Mini-Boss. David didn’t want to believe that.

However, instead of lingering on the Rift Boss, David’s attention pulled to the plated figure crashing into the ground near him. It was Torb. His armor was torn in multiple places, his shield missing, and he clutched the lower end of his mace, now almost destroyed.

But none of that mattered at this moment.

David’s heart clenched. Torb didn’t get up.

Fuck.

The others didn’t fare much better. Everyone could handle a few Darkai, but the Herculean Darkai and the Rift Boss didn’t make their lives easier. Most defenders pulled back. David saw the fear on the defenders' faces, the hesitation in their stances. It was as if death loomed close, and each of them knew it. Some looked ready to flee.

Their fighting spirit was crushed.

This won’t work. It’s not enough.

David saw the situation clearly. More than half the Darkai had been eliminated, but there were still three Herculean Darkai and one fat ass Darkai on the battlefield. Those four were already enough to kill the remnants of the defending forces. Maybe the chubby Darkai was enough to do so. After all, it looked like fewer than seventy defenders were still alive. It was probably less than that.

He took a deep breath. The situation looked bleak, giving up wouldn’t help anyone.

He had accumulated enough crimson motes to do a few things. Was that enough to kill the Mini-Bosses and the Rift Boss? Probably not. But fleeing was not an option either. It was a do-or-die situation.

He either had to be the hunter or be hunted. It was that simple.

David steadied his mind and heeded his heart’s call to charge back into the battlefield when screams reached him. He spun around and saw one of the Herculean Darkai as it appeared among the group of mages. They released a barrage of [Mana Bullet] and even [Arcane Blast], but the demon ignored the wounds. The holes in its chest and limbs seemed insignificant as it released a wave of flames into the surroundings, burning everyone to a cinder.

The dark flames spread rapidly, engulfing the mages’ robes and burning everything in their path. The desperate and pained screams of the helpless Mages rang out, but they didn’t last long. Their cries ceased briefly, and only the Herculean Darkai emerged from the flames. But the Darkai didn’t seem done. Its eyes flicked to the next target—David, standing near the fallen Mini-Boss.

The Herculean Darkai burst forward, a flash of motion that closed the distance in an instant.

He conjured a [Shield of Faith], which flickered in crimson-gold light, but the Herculean Darkai ignored his defense. It pierced through the shield and into his stomach in one go.

The Herculean Darkai let out a guttural roar, and David felt himself lifted into the air, blood trickling down his side. Pain seared through him, and David’s sight blurred as a wave of cold shrouded him.

His body grew weaker, and even [Cure Wounds] cast with crimson motes didn’t seem enough to stabilize his condition. His stomach was still pierced.

He was impaled and lifted from the ground like a trophy. That was exactly what he was, the demon’s trophy. Nothing more, nothing less.

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Blood poured out of him as his body turned cold, and his consciousness threatened to drift away.

He wasn’t the hunter. He was the prey.