The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 128 - The Sixth Is Missing

Darian was gone.

Truly gone.

He was the first to follow Eron, and it struck them all with brutal finality. His body collapsed like a crumpled wall, the strength that once stood as their shield now nothing more than a shattered husk on the ground.

Their defender, cut down with a single strike.

If Darian could fall so easily...

It was over.

The team unraveled.

Some started breathing faster, eyes darting for gaps, for openings, for any illusion of escape. Others gripped their weapons with shaking hands, no longer in readiness, but in sheer desperation.

"Control yourselves!" Velion shouted, trying to bring them back. "Don’t act recklessly. That will only make this worse!"

"Worse?" someone snapped back. "How could this be any worse?"

"We’re dead!" someone else cried. "We’re already dead, we’re just too slow to fall!"

"Why did we ever come here?" another muttered, to no one in particular. "What was the point of any of this?"

And someone else, in a whisper not meant to be heard, said the quietest, cruelest truth of all.

"There’s no saving us. We should’ve died in the last Rift. Maybe that was mercy."

Then the biggest demon spoke, low, slow, and dripping with amusement.

"Take it easy. Play with them to your content."

Play?

Tave’s stomach turned.

They weren’t just killing them.

They were playing with them. Like predators toying with prey, drawing it out, savoring it.

And then. Chaos.

The demons surged forward.

One lunged straight at Velion, who brought his sword up just in time to block the blow. But the force sent him flying, crashing into the dirt with a harsh grunt.

"You bastard! I’ll kill you!" Finn roared, charging in retaliation. But his shield was torn from him in an instant, ripped away like paper.

Another demon struck. Fast and brutal. More followed. Blades slashed. Claws tore. Fists landed like thunder.

None of their defenses held.

One more of their team dropped.

"No! No way!" Finn shouted, eyes wide with rage as another of their own fell lifeless to the ground.

He bolted forward, shield in hand, fury burning in his chest.

But it didn’t matter.

This wasn’t a battle.

It was a slow, mocking execution.

They could’ve ended it already. Tave knew it. Everyone knew it.

But the demons were savoring it. Drawing it out. Breaking them piece by piece.

And now, only six remained.

Velion. Elowen. Panpan. Finn. Lina. Tave.

Six left from the original ten.

Their friends. Their comrades. Gone, without even the dignity of a real fight.

The nightmare wasn’t coming.

It was here.

And it was happening right before their eyes.

The survivors closed ranks, forming a tight circle. Shoulder to shoulder, back to back.

They had nothing left but each other.

And whatever seconds of defiance they could still cling to.

At this point, surrendering or fighting back. Both were equally hollow.

Both led to death.

And death, in its cold certainty, was unforgiving. There was no second chance. No miracle. Just the end. Final and absolute.

Then, after a few tense, breathless moments, more movement stirred from the shadows.

From between the trees, more demons emerged. Mounted on monstrous beasts, their figures tall and imposing as they dismounted in unison.

They didn’t rush.

They didn’t even raise their weapons yet.

They just walked, marching toward the broken circle of survivors.

And then they encircled them.

Fully.

Like predators surrounding the last flickers of life in a dying fire.

More demons. A dozen at least. No, more.

Their numbers now simply overwhelmed.

Over twenty demons.

And that was the number they could see.

Was there anything worse than this?

No.

There wasn’t.

"Ha ha ha... I suppose we’ve been a bit too rough, right?" the largest demon said.

"Actually, I didn’t come here to kill you. I mean, not yet," he continued.

"Weak little rats like you? You’re not even a threat. So... let’s say the Rift is about to collapse. How about you come watch the fall of your little home?"

He turned slightly, giving a lazy gesture with one clawed hand.

"Tie them up. Bring them home."

And just like that, the demons moved in.

They approached with heavy chains, reinforced iron muzzles that clamped over their mouths. Only the eyes left exposed. The look of helpless resistance in every glare.

Their wrists were locked in cold iron manacles, bound together in close proximity, forcing them into one miserable cluster.

And that’s how the demons’ mission succeeded that night.

They had found their targets.

They delivered punishment, and a nightmare.

They killed some, not because they had to, but to make a point. To show just how easily they could.

And they captured the rest, trophies of terror.

The demon leader walked slowly, inspecting the bound figures kneeling before him.

Five.

Only five.

"Why only five?" he asked.

A heavy silence fell.

Then his tone dropped into a sudden growl. Louder, violent.

"There were six! Where is the other one?!"

Panic flashed across the other demons.

"Check the trees!"

"He couldn’t have gotten far!"

"Search the shadows! Now!"

Another shouted, frustrated, "Someone was supposed to be watching the rear!"

"Idiots," snarled one. "You let one of them slip away?!"

"Find him!" the leader roared. "Or I’ll tear the skin from your bones myself!"

The demons scattered, some in a frenzy, sprinting into the woods, others leaping onto their flying mounts and soaring into the sky.

Chaos rippled through their ranks.

"You useless fools!" the demon leader bellowed.

He turned, snarled, and slammed his clawed fist into one of the lesser demons’ heads, sending the creature crashing into the ground with a sickening crunch.

"I gave you one job!"

"Pathetic! Can’t even hold a circle!"

"Who was on the flank?! Who was watching the damn escape routes?!"

"Do you understand what failure means in my command?!"

"Bring the rest to the fortress. And find the missing one. Now!" he growled.

Four of the remaining demons immediately grabbed the bound prisoners, yanking their chains and dragging them through the darkness, toward the fortress. The iron muzzles clanked with each step, the helpless figures stumbling behind.

"Find him. Or I’ll kill every last one of you myself!" the leader roared again.

Then, from his back, great black wings unfolded, stretching wide and cruel.

With a single, thunderous flap, the demon leader blasted into the sky, vanishing into the black above like a blade into the void.

The five prisoners were dragged through the forest like broken dolls, chains clinking, iron helms sealing their mouths, their limbs bound too tightly to resist. The chain sapped their strength. It was over. They couldn’t fight back even if they tried.

To the demons, they were no longer warriors.

Just property. Luggage. Wasted breath.

As they trudged forward, some of the demons pulling the chains spoke.

"Tch, this one’s heavier than he looks. Did you eat a boulder, runt?"

"I still don’t get it... these are the ones who killed ten of us?"

"One of them peed themselves. I swear I smelled it back there."

"Should’ve just crushed them and moved on."

"Shut it. Boss wants ’em alive. For now."

"Bet they’re hoping to die quick. Shame that’s not up to them."

"Think the one that escaped will come running back?"

"Hah. If he’s smart? He’ll keep running till he drops."

Laughter followed.

They didn’t see prisoners.

They saw toys that hadn’t broken yet.

One of the demons suddenly halted, jerking the chain and causing the others to stumble.

"What? Why are you stopping?" another demon snapped.

The one who had stopped turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the figure trailing behind them, the demon walking at the very rear.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

The rear demon didn’t flinch. He scoffed. "What are you babbling about? Lost your brains somewhere back there that you’re asking such stupid questions?"

"You’re not part of the hunting squad!," the first demon said.

But before tension could rise any higher, another in the group growled, "Shut up! You’re imagining things. Keep moving. We don’t have time for your nonsense."

The rear demon stepped forward, placing a firm slap on the chest of the one who had questioned him.

"Don’t play dumb. We need to move, before the boss loses his patience."

The group resumed their march, dragging the five bound prisoners once more through the underbrush, the sound of chains scraping across rocks and roots.

The demon at the back kept pace. Perfectly synchronized with the rest.

But his eyes...

His eyes were different.

Sharp.

Focused.

And as he walked, he muttered under his breath, just low enough for no one to hear.

"What fate... that led the Mask Relic to choose this as the moment?"