The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 129 - Wolf in a Demon’s Skin

What a fate, or whatever it was.

Tave had tried more than once to communicate with the spirit inside the relic, the mask Fokil had crafted using the materials from Tave’s previous Rift. It was made from the carcass of a monster he’d slain, one with illusion abilities and mental manipulation, fused with a soul stone taken from a shadow wolf.

The result was a mask with unclear ability yet. It hadn’t responded to him, not really. Just the occasional low growl from deep within, nothing more. Likely because the original soul belonged to a shadow wolf, a creature that couldn’t speak in the first place.

Unlike his sword, which housed a high-grade relic spirit. Intelligent, emotional, and often annoyingly talkative.

Until that moment.

The first real response came weeks ago, after Tave had killed a demon. Not just any demon, but the one he’d used as a sacrificial offering for his bloodline override. Maybe that was the key. It was the only demon he had slain entirely with his own hands. The others had fallen to his allies.

And now, when the tension in the forest had reached its peak, he felt the surge. The vibration of power thrummed from the mask, and a notification of the bond blinked into existence before his eyes.

That was the moment Tave used the mask.

And its true function was to let him wear the face, the voice, and the expression of an intelligent creature he had personally killed.

And the one bound to this mask... was that demon.

Now, Tave moved among the enemy with a demon’s face. His armor was scavenged from demon corpses. His presence was reinforced by the single horn of his newly gained Sigil. The mask didn’t create the horn, but it didn’t need to.

It was enough.

A perfect illusion. If he played it well, no one would question it.

Yes, he had already drawn suspicion from one of them. But unless it came from someone of higher rank, it didn’t matter. These demons weren’t exactly brilliant. As long as he barked orders in their tone, mimicked their aggression, he could pass.

The descent down the mountain went surprisingly smooth. Other demon squads were sweeping the area up ahead, so the march of the prisoners was left mostly undisturbed.

Tave clenched his jaw as he watched his comrades dragged behind like broken cargo. He forced himself to stay in character.

Velion moved well despite the bindings, always light on his feet. Panpan, too, managed with quiet steadiness. But Finn, he fell more than once, bleeding, staggering. He was the most injured among them.

And Lina... Lina struggled with every step. Her mobility was never her strength, and now, injured and bound, she could barely stay upright.

Elowen, surprisingly, kept up. Silent, but steady.

Each time Lina stumbled, Tave stepped forward just enough to kick away a rock or root that might trip her again, then barked in demon-tongue.

"Get moving, maggot-blood! You think we’ll wait for your pathetic crawling?!"

It was enough to keep appearances.

The other demons sneered.

"Forest elves, soft bones and softer wills. Can’t even walk straight."

"Humans are worse. Always whining, always bleeding."

"I thought these were the ones who killed ten of us? They look more like worms trying to pass for wolves."

"Look at this one. She’ll die before we even reach the fortress. Weak little twig."

"And that human male? What’s he even made of? Mud and fear?"

Their laughter was sharp and ugly.

What if Tave tried to kill the three demons escorting them and free his comrades?

Well, that thought, however tempting, was reckless at best, borderline suicidal at worst.

Because after analyzing everything carefully, Tave understood why the demons hadn’t simply slaughtered them all.

They didn’t want the Rift’s gate to reopen.

Because if all the challengers died, that’s exactly what would happen, new intruders would be forced in. And now that the Rift had been escalated to an Emergency-tier, those new intruders would be stronger.

If word got out that an entire expedition of forest elves had died, someone like Elincia would be the first to arrive. And she would come, especially knowing that her precious disciple, Panpan, had been among the fallen.

No doubt the demons had calculated this.

Leaving a single survivor? Risky. That survivor could take their own life and trigger the reset anyway. But six?

Six was the perfect number.

Enough to preserve hope. Enough to keep them from making desperate, irreversible moves. Enough to maintain the illusion of possible victory, while ensuring they were too broken to resist.

Even Tave wasn’t immune to that sliver of hope.

It was a mess. An escalating, chaotic spiral.

Dozens of demons. One absurdly strong one. And the possibility that he wasn’t even the true leader.

But whatever.

For now, Tave would play the role. See what this so-called fortress had to offer. Look for cracks. Opportunities.

Exploit anything.

But above all, one thing mattered more than anything else. Protect his comrade. Keep them alive, at any cost.

While the rest of the demons hunted for him in the forest, he was right here, wearing the perfect mask.

As long as he didn’t draw on his Gaia Force too much, he could maintain this demon form for a long time.

Long enough. Hopefully.

The journey stretched on for hours.

They moved down from the mountain slopes, passed through the dense woods, and eventually emerged into the open field. The same place where Tave had first discovered the demon fortress.

Other demons were engaged in battle, slaying any monsters that dared approach their territory. Above, flying creatures hovered and circled.

No doubt, they were hunting for Tave.

The fact that they were still deploying aerial scouts, still tightening security this much, said a lot. Under normal circumstances, no single Gaia Master should be able to survive alone in a forest teeming with tier-5 monsters.

Yet they weren’t taking any chances.

Not even a sliver of risk.

They wanted their plan flawless.

And ironically, the one who had escaped their notice wasn’t even a Gaia Master. Tave was still a Gaia Guardian.

But they didn’t need to know that.

Fang, Tave assumed, must already be inside the fortress somewhere, likely imprisoned. Hopefully the rest of his team would be caged nearby, which would at least save Tave the trouble of searching every corner of the place.

Freeing them was a problem for later.

One step at a time.

For now, assess. Observe. Measure their strength. Their routines. Their hierarchy.

There had to be an opening. Even if it was small. Even if it was almost nothing.

Finally, they reached the front gates. As they approached, several demons stormed out.

"Took you long enough to drag in a few worms!"

"Look at them, barely breathing. You should’ve killed them for slowing you down!"

"Next time, leave the trash behind!"

Tave kept his head down slightly, just enough to hide his eyes, maintaining the same snarl, the same harsh stride.

But then. As they passed through the gates, the full scope of the fortress came into view.

And Tave’s heart twisted in his chest.

Damn it.

This wasn’t just a squad. Or a battalion.

This was a full-scale army.