The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 103 - Nine Horns Beneath the Hills

The difference between night and day for a shadow wolf was immense. So stark that it was almost like comparing two entirely different creatures. Night was where Fang thrived. His natural domain. Under the cloak of darkness, surrounded by deep shadows and moonless silence, the shadow wolf could perform at his absolute peak.

Veiled by the blackness of night, Fang moved with uncanny precision. Fast. Silent. Invisible. Not even a whisper marked his passage as he slipped between the trees. That was the level of potency he had already reached, even while still in Tier 3.

Just imagine what he would become when he finally ascended to Tier 4. The thought alone was staggering.

Back at the temporary camp, Tave remained seated in a focused meditative state. His breathing was slow, his posture perfectly grounded, and his presence barely there, like part of the forest itself. He was drawing in elemental particles, absorbing as much as he could with sharp efficiency.

The dark element was rich in this place, nearly intoxicating in its saturation. Fire, on the other hand, was sparse, perhaps one-fifth the density. But Tave balanced the intake with practiced control. He wasn’t just absorbing power blindly. He was stabilizing his Gaia Force, tempering it after the battle they had survived earlier.

Yes, he had only slain one monster today.

But that one monster had been Tier 5.

And more than that. Tave had killed it with Soul Fire.

He could feel the shift within him. Every time he used Soul Fire to hunt, to kill, to overcome. It grew stronger. More attuned to him. More alive. And he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation at the thought of what it would become once he could fully control it.

He wanted that control. He wanted that fire. And he wanted to burn brighter than ever before.

Tave was deeply focused now, eyes closed in trance but mind fully alert. Connected with Fang as his companion moved silently through the vast darkness. What he truly wanted to uncover tonight was the condition of the base terrain far beneath the mountain ridges they currently occupied.

He knew the creatures that inhabited the lower grounds would be different. Possibly more dangerous. And this night, this perfect, black-stained night, was likely the only window where Fang could travel far enough, scout those depths, and return before dawn’s light began to scatter the shadows.

As Fang descended, gliding through the forest layers, Tave began to see, through glimpses of shared vision. The horrifying swamps and sinkholes teeming with life.

He spotted swamps of monsters. Coiled in nests, submerged beneath murky waters, blending with their environment so completely they might as well be terrain themselves. And when Fang drew too close, just for a heartbeat, Tave felt the instinctive tension in his body. Even through vision alone, his throat went dry. He swallowed hard. Every time.

Each of those monsters was its own calamity. And right now? He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he’d craft a strategy to bring them down.

This expedition... might stretch for months.

Worse, he thought, it could last a full year.

And with that came the darker thoughts. The heavier fears.

Would they have enough time to finish this trial and return?

Would they be able to respond to the demon activity stirring in the outside world?

Or would they emerge from the Rift... only to find the Dissidia Kingdom already fallen. Broken by the war they were too far away to stop?

If, of course, they even made it out at all.

It had been an hour, maybe more, when Fang finally reached the lower lands. The terrain here was less dense, trees more sparse, though still ancient and gnarled. Moonlight barely touched the ground, filtered through hanging moss and branches that looked like skeletal fingers clawing the air.

Fang moved slower now. More cautious. Tave guided him in short, calculated bursts. They weren’t here to provoke anything. Not yet. This was recon, nothing more. Tave needed a sense of the landscape, a feel for the routes, a rough idea of where the expedition might continue once they descended from the highlands.

This night wouldn’t give him all the answers. That much was clear. But it was better than marching blind.

Then, suddenly. Fang froze. And so did Tave. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

A jolt pulsed through his spine.

Fragments of vision filtered into his mind. One flash after another. Shifting shapes, the quiet glint of metal under faint starlight... and then, the full picture snapped into focus.

Tave’s gut twisted.

Humanoids. Nine of them. Moving in loose formation. Each wore armor, thick, dark, fitted for battle. Their weapons were heavy. Efficient. Forged not for defense, but slaughter.

And then, Tave saw it.

The horns.

Twisting upward like markers of dread. Each figure bore them, unmistakable even in the dim light.

Demons.

Tave’s breath caught. His heart pounded in his ears. No longer from surprise. But from the weight of knowing.

He whispered, barely more than a breath, "Fang... still. Don’t move. Not a sound."

Damn it.

Demons. Again.

Tave felt his entire body tighten. His muscles locked, his breath shallow. Cold sweat began to trail down his back, chilling him despite the heat still lingering from his meditation.

Nine demons. Just in one group.

And demons didn’t roam in scattered clusters without hierarchy. If this was one unit, then there were others, possibly many others, lurking in different parts of the Rift. And where there were squads, there were leaders. Commanders. Warlords. The real threats.

What made it worse, what truly coiled dread into his spine, was that demons weren’t like monsters. They weren’t mindless. They had intelligence, strategy, communication. Purpose.

The group of nine came to a stop.

Tave narrowed his focus, straining through Fang’s senses. He could see subtle hand movements, gestures. They were talking.

Then, one of them raised an arm and pointed.

Tave’s stomach lurched.

The demon was pointing toward the mountain range.

Toward Tave and his team’s position.

They knew.

They knew someone had entered the Rift. And now... they were hunting.

Tave’s thoughts raced. Their Rift Expedition team consisted of ten individuals. These nine demons already matched that count. Their strength was at least Gaia Master level. Maybe higher.

Could it be... that this Rift had turned into an emergency rift because of them?

Because the demons were already here?

The thought struck Tave like a blade through ice. If that were true. If this Rift had become unstable not due to natural fluctuation, but because they were using it as a pathway. It would mean only one thing:

They were trying to break into Yunatea.

This Rift... it was a gateway. A bridge. And the demons had begun crossing it.

If that was the truth, if this was more than just a hostile environment, more than a test, more than a hunting ground. Then...

Tave’s breath caught. His body began to tremble, just slightly at first, then more as the realization rooted itself deeper.

Because if this was a planned infiltration route...

Then there was a very real chance that a Named Demon was present inside this Rift.

Just thinking about it sent shivers crawling down Tave’s spine. His heartbeat thudded in his ears. His instincts screamed louder than logic.

He had to get back.

Immediately.

He had to relay the message.

The demons were here.

And, there was only one path forward.

Tave had to kill them all.

All of them.

There was no other way out.