Chapter 514: End the demon invasion
The ground trembled under their feet. Where once stood the immense Gate of the Abyss, spewing a swarming horde of demons. The air was thick with sulfur and ashes, and the sky, a sickly red, seemed to ooze horror itself.
Konstantin plunged his hand into the skull of an Imptor that had dared come too close. The creature disintegrated in a geyser of hot ashes. Without a word, he pivoted, the sword he had recovered tracing an arc that mowed down two other demons, Fange Guards with shiny carapaces. Their flesh melted under the glow of his magic.
A few meters from him, Loriel was a whirlwind of silvery light. Her spear danced, each movement economical but deadly precise. She pierced a Velus Specter, the creature screaming a high-pitched note before collapsing into a pile of sticky membranes. A second one leaped on her from behind, claws extended. Without turning around, Loriel slammed the heel of her boot onto its shoulder, sending it to the ground, and finished it with a quick thrust of the tip.
"They do not lack appetite," she noted, her voice as neutral as if she were commenting on the weather.
Konstantin chuckled, a short and joyless sound. "They are hungry for death. We will satiate them."
The rift shuddered. A new wave emerged: Crab Demons with sharp pincers and jerky movements, then Flayers, larger, faster, their bodies striped with protruding bones.
Konstantin raised his free hand, and a wall of black flames rose between them and the horde, roasting the front ranks. The crabs exploded like chestnuts that were too hot. But the Flayers crossed the fire, their skin charred but their rage intact.
Loriel leaped to meet them. Her spear, imbued with her essence, vibrated with a white light. She did not speak, offered no threat. She struck. Three blows in one second: the first deflected a claw, the second opened the demon’s torso, the third lifted it from the ground and sent it into the wall of flames, where it finished burning with screams.
The creature surged behind them, its bony claws slicing through the sulfur-laden air. Konstantin sensed the air displacement a fraction of a second before impact; he bent his knees and leaned his torso forward. The demon’s natural blade grazed his scalp, carrying away a few strands of his blond hair. Without losing a second, the man pivoted on his hip and plunged his sword into the soft belly of the Flayer. The blade found the flesh with disconcerting ease, and Konstantin injected a discharge of pure magic into it. The demon’s body swelled, its black veins began to glow with a pale light, then it exploded in a spray of ashes and disarticulated limbs. Konstantin did not even bother following the trajectory of the debris; his gaze was already elsewhere, scrutinizing the gaping breach that pulsed.
An oppressive silence fell over them. Yet this silence was not a respite, but a deceptive lull, like the moment of calm that precedes the hurricane. They did not need to exchange words to understand each other. Konstantin concentrated his energy in the tip of his sword. Beams of bluish light burst from the blade as he traced complex sealing runes in the air, each symbol blazing with a flickering glow before fading like a star in its terminal phase.
Loriel stepped forward decisively, gripped her spear with both hands and faced the tide of darkness surging toward them. The demons poured in by the dozens now, emerging from the rift like insects drawn to light; they were even more numerous, and their rage multiplied by the presence of those who dared defy their realm.
A Razor sliced through the enemy ranks, its long serpentine silhouette undulating over the dusty ground. Its three heads swung back and forth, each equipped with a gaping jaw and fangs dripping with venom. The creature emitted a shrill cry that pierced Loriel’s eardrums, but she did not flinch. She observed the demon’s movements, analyzing its trajectory, anticipating its attacks. When the Razor threw itself at her, the three maws open toward her face, she waited until the last possible instant. Then, with a movement incredibly fluid for a woman of her build, she shifted to the side.
Her spear spun in a perfect circular arc. The first head of the Razor flew off, cleanly severed at the nape, and rolled on the ground spitting a blackish liquid. Loriel immediately followed with a backhand motion that cut off the second head. The third, mad with rage, dove toward her arm. Loriel raised her left forearm, and a shield of incandescent energy appeared, sparkling like a miniature sun. The monster’s fangs shattered against the magical barrier with a sound of crushed glass, and the creature retreated, disoriented. Loriel seized this opening to bring the pommel of her spear down on the Razor’s skull, which collapsed with a final rattle.
The demons redoubled their ardor. They rushed forward in a compact wave, their claws and fangs glittering in the gloom. Loriel stepped back a few paces and felt Konstantin’s back against hers. They found themselves back to back in the middle of the chaos, their weapons tracing luminous arcs in the tainted air. Konstantin’s movements were precise and economical, each thrust finding a weak point, each magical discharge pulverizing a demonic body. Loriel, for her part, danced between the attacks with surprising grace, her spear describing deadly circles that kept the creatures at bay. Each gesture was an economy of life, each movement a death sentence.
The hours passed, as endless as the shadows lengthening on the walls of the room. The rhythm of the battle was marked by the metallic clash of weapons against demonic claws, by the crackling of the spells Konstantin cast to repel the most violent assaults, and by the shrill screams of the damned falling under their blows.
"Fuck, they keep coming out..." groaned Konstantin.
"Count yourself lucky that the demon princes have not appeared yet," replied Loriel.
Yet they did not falter. They held their position, repelling wave after wave, demon after demon. They had decided to close the Gates of the Abyss once and for all.