Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 333: BARTLING ENVY CLAN VIII

Kaup and Zara found themselves surrounded by more undead.

They had let themselves get boxed in too tightly.

The horde closed in fast, their rotten flesh reeking of death.

Decayed eyes glowed with unholy hunger in the dim demon realm light.

Kaup gritted his teeth, mana surging through his veins.

He tried to teleport away from the encirclement.

But he wasn’t given a single chance.

A hulking undead lunged forward, its jagged blade stabbing clean through his chest.

The weapon stuck fast, pinning him in place like a skewered insect.

Cold metal burned against his ribs, blood bubbling hot from the wound.

And then, explosion.

The blast ripped outward in a vicious circle of condemnation.

Flames and shrapnel tore through the undead ranks, but the backlash consumed Kaup and Zara too.

Screams echoed briefly before silence fell.

They both lost their lives in the inferno.

Lilith stood firm, her clone mirroring her stance at her side.

She had to fight against Denz, the general’s aura pulsing with dark energy.

Lilith and the others dealt with their individual generals.

Each clash rang out across the battlefield, steel on steel, spells crackling in the air.

Lilith’s enemy charred under her relentless flames.

His armor melted, skin blistering black until his HP bottomed out.

He crumpled in a smoldering heap, the acrid stench of burnt flesh lingering.

Will and Aaron worked as a team to take care of their enemies.

Their coordinated strikes flowed seamlessly, blades flashing in unison.

One parried, the other struck, efficient, deadly synergy.

Brian took three generals all alone.

He moved like a shadow, without even breaking a sweat.

His fists blurred, shattering bones and draining HP bars in rapid succession.

The generals fell one by one, their roars turning to gurgles.

And Chris?

He just idled after Brian took down his supposed enemy alone.

Chris leaned against a jagged rock, arms crossed, watching the dust settle.

"That’s all for now," Chris added casually.

"Guess we should go provide support to Greg."

He dusted off his clothes with exaggerated flair, like he’d been in the thick of it all.

With nothing left to do, the group moved out.

They hurried toward Greg, who was locked in a grueling battle of attrition.

The air grew thicker with tension as they approached.

Greg continued to battle Azazel, pouring everything he had into draining the demon’s HP.

Sweat poured down his face, muscles screaming from the endless strain.

His breaths came in ragged gasps, but his eyes burned with unyielding focus.

He made use of everything in his arsenal.

Abyssal water lashed out in whipping tendrils, eroding flesh.

Abyssal flames roared hungrily, searing the air with blistering heat.

Materialized arrows whistled through the gloom, piercing vital points.

Darkness coiled like living smoke, sapping strength with every touch.

And yet, he couldn’t empty Azazel’s health to a good enough point.

The demon’s bar hovered stubbornly high, regenerating in mocking pulses.

"To what end?" Azazel mocked, a cruel smile twisting his lips.

"You’ve been going on and on for almost three hours now."

His voice dripped with sadistic amusement, echoing off the cavern walls.

He was close to unleashing his ultimate ability again.

It looked more likely than ever that he would win this battle of attrition.

Azazel’s confidence radiated like a foul aura.

Greg didn’t pay Azazel any heed.

He focused solely on the task of reducing his HP as much as he could.

Every strike, every spell, pure determination fueled him.

"It’s time," Azazel muttered.

The three-hour cooldown had just ended.

"Moonlight resonance!"

Azazel unleashed his ultimate ability once more.

Pale, ethereal beams lanced down, humming with destructive power.

Greg, mentally prepared, decided against receiving it head-on.

He couldn’t afford another full hit.

Greg tried to dive into the shadow realm to protect himself.

Shadows rippled at his feet, promising escape.

But sadly, he couldn’t exit the demon realm to any other realm aside from the human one.

With his dash slamming him into the wall, Greg tensed himself.

He braced for impact, muscles coiling like steel cables.

The outcome?

He was smoked as usual.

The resonance tore through him, agony exploding in his core.

His HP dropped to just one-third.

"Haha. That’s fun," Azazel said with a smile.

He knew he had to wait another three hours for the cooldown.

Laughter bubbled from his throat, sharp and triumphant.

Greg pushed that pain aside.

He dove right back into reducing Azazel’s HP.

No time for weakness, only the grind.

And yet, Azazel’s HP lingered at one-third.

A scale Greg wasn’t so sure he could finish in time.

Doubt flickered briefly in his mind, but he crushed it.

Azazel, still, wasn’t planning to make Greg’s life any easier.

"Will manifestation!" Azazel called out.

His will manifested in a surge of power.

His small world blossomed around them, tendrils of energy yanking Greg inside.

The demon realm warped and vanished.

Azazel’s world was creepy beyond measure.

The ground lay dark, like the color of decayed beings.

Putrid hues of black and green swirled underfoot.

The texture of the world was weird too.

It felt like one was standing on human flesh, warm, squelching, pulsing faintly.

Each step sent a nauseating shiver up Greg’s spine.

Maggots roamed freely within the world.

They writhed in wriggling masses, their pale bodies glistening with slime.

High, absurd spikes scattered all around, jagged and towering.

The spikes had different body parts of various beings hung on them.

Severed limbs, torsos, heads, dripping blood in slow, viscous trails.

The metallic tang of gore filled the air.

"Welcome to my world," Azazel spoke, a smile stretching wide across his face.

"Now, let’s see if your ability still works."

His eyes gleamed with malicious glee.

The maggots on the ground slowly began to come together.

They merged with wet, slurping sounds into something Greg couldn’t quite make out yet.

The forms shifted, half-formed horrors bubbling up.

At last, the maggots merged into several types all around the world.

Their appearances were gross and irritating to Greg, twisted abominations with too many limbs, gaping maws, and dripping orifices.

Revulsion churned in his gut.

"How do you like my babies?" Azazel said confidently.

"They are so adorable. Especially when I bring them lunch."

He stared directly into Greg’s eyes, his gaze unblinking and predatory.