Chapter 131 Backfire
Chapter 131 Backfire
The magic faded as Laila hovered in the air. Dusk settled over the ruins, painting her in dying light. Her body shuddered.
The demonic skeleton stood unmoved—resisting her attack like it was nothing. Its heart trembled as bone horns grew from its head. It had absorbed the blast… and turned it into its own power.
Flesh kept spreading, crawling over its frame. It looked at Laila, unbothered—then rushed forward.
In a blur, it reached Vadia and Magnus, still prostrated like subordinates waiting for their king. With both claws, it struck—smashing their heads to pulp in a single hit. Their bodies withered instantly, collapsing into dust as the sound of the skeletal demon’s heartbeat thundered again.
Iryoku watched everything, stunned, unable to move.
The creature’s body shifted—lumps of flesh swelling around its chest and hips.
Iryoku’s eyes widened.
“It’s… a woman,” he whispered. “It must be her. It has to…”
He stepped forward, hope flickering inside him.
Laila finally felt fear. Her body trembled as the demonic skeleton turned its hollow gaze toward her.
Desperately, she hurled her chains and tried to escape—but it was futile. The creature dashed forward, impaling her, and absorbed her magic—draining the power straight out of her.
Laila began to wither away. Then something moved—
Iryoku saw it: the real Laila, a naked, translucent silhouette, slipping free from her demonic shell like a spirit fleeing its corpse. She tried to escape, her form fading into the air as her former body crumbled into ash.
But a claw of black energy shot out, catching her midair. Her form solidified again.
“Ahhh—no! I’m sorry! I just wanted revenge for my people!” she screamed, tears streaking her beautiful face.
The demon now had a half-formed face—part flesh, part bone. Black, obsidian-like scales covered her body, and two long horns curved from her head. A mane of dark hair fell down her back.
Iryoku stood frozen, staring at the demon girl from behind. Her long black hair and dark aura were chilling… yet somehow familiar.
He shook off the fear, leapt forward, and landed behind her.
“Deborah…” he whispered.
The demon turned. Iryoku’s breath caught in his throat.
“You’re not supposed to be here...” came a feminine, monstrous voice—cold, distant, and deeper than any human’s.
Her natural armor was thick, jagged, and wild. Her face looked more beast than woman—covered in dark scales, with small eyes that burned with deadly strength. There was no divine beauty, no allure—only a raw, terrifying demonic presence.
“You… you aren’t her,” Iryoku muttered, his voice cracking as tears threatened to appear in his eyes.
The demon woman flicked her hand, and the black, floating claw of energy dragged Laila closer. The demon examined her, then snarled.
“How dares a mere mortal try to control me?”
Her voice deepened into a monstrous growl as her horns lengthened and her body exhaled waves of black magic.
“You dared to exalt yourself with my power… that is the worst kind of disrespect, lowly creature.”
Laila’s face went pale.
Iryoku felt a surge of overwhelming fear and leapt back several meters.
Crunch!
Laila exploded—crushed by the demon’s magic hand. Blood splattered across the ruins.
The demon examined her claws, flexing them slowly. She looked around, scanning the ruined landscape, then lifted her gaze to the dark sky.
“The other side of Gebul…” she murmured to herself.
Iryoku swallowed hard. “Please… tell me. Do you know a demon girl called Deborah?”
She turned and glared at him again.
“I know no such name,” she said flatly. “Now go—before you attract the Sun Eater.”
She was about to leap away—but stopped, her eyes narrowing as she studied Iryoku again.
“You… have faced it already…” Her expression shifted in surprise. “…And survived.”
Her face darkened. With a sudden motion, her hand sliced through the air.
Iryoku felt danger spike through his body—instinct screamed. He dropped and rolled aside just as a massive black energy claw tore through the space where he’d stood moments before.
He reappeared a few meters away, panting, sweat dripping down his face.
“Wait—I’m not your enemy! I don’t want to fight you!”
The demon’s voice was cold and disdainful.
“A mortal has no say in what I do.” She clicked her tongue. “Tch… damn it. I don’t even have a tenth of my power,” she muttered under her breath.
Her red eyes glimmered as she studied him again.
“Your primitive cells… they’re dense—a strange fusion of life essence—for such a creature. Are you from the Third? The Fourth? Or perhaps… are you an Ultimate?”
She paused, her expression shifting as if in realization. “If you’re here… then it means...”
Her tone hardened again.
“Very well. Tell me where the rest of my flesh is—and I might not kill you, mortal.”
Iryoku blinked. “Ah… Ultimate? Your flesh…?”
Thud!
The ground cracked as the demon’s leg struck it. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Iryoku flinched and stepped back, ready to retreat—when another deep tremor echoed, a burst of light illuminating the sky from the direction of the bridge.
The demon turned her head toward the sound and glare.
Iryoku moved quickly, pointing frantically in the opposite direction.
“Over there! There’s a dead man wearing part of your flesh—as armor! He has no head! And further that way—on the mountain, beneath a tree—there’s more of it. A long strand, like rope!”
The demon analyzed him for a long moment, then turned toward where he pointed.
Without another word, she leapt into the air and vanished.
Iryoku’s eyes widened. A horrible realization hit him.
The flesh cocoons… Christina’s still trapped—and those two as well!
“Shit!” He turned and sprinted back toward the bridge. “Shit, shit! We need to get them out—then get the hell out of this place! And the girls… they should be close too!”
He ran at full speed, leaping over shattered stone houses and broken walls. When he reached the edge of the city, he fired his harpoon toward the outer wall. The white rope flared with energy as he reeled himself in, muscles straining. He shot through the air—fast, almost flying.
The bridge came into view below.
“What the hell…” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “Why are they here?”
His gaze sharpened as he caught sight of it—a massive arrow made of golden light forming at the center of the bridge. A group of people dressed in black and white stood there, each bearing the sigil of a flame on their attire—knights and mages, their bodies flaring with golden light.
At their center stood a lone figure with long red hair and an androgynous face, clad in ornate golden robes, charging the glowing arrow toward the island.
Below, panic spread. Demihuman slaves, escaped prisoners, humans—the three cocoons—everyone looked terrified.
And in front of them, standing tall between the chaos and the blinding light, was the catgirl Katherine, her sword raised in a defensive stance.