Chapter 339: Demons!
John outlined the new strategy on a whim, without even flinching. The group exchanged quick, silent glances, absorbing the weight of the moment before Ricky spoke up.
"And what exactly is our role, John? Why are we leaving the cover of the towers and walls?"
"We’ll act as the bait," John replied, an evil smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"No matter what race is piloting those ships, we have one unstoppable advantage that no one else in this world possesses: our reputation. We are humans, the fallen race. To anyone up there, we are nothing more than insects. They’ll look down on us just like the rest of the world does."
The logic was bitter yet realistic. John’s friends grasped the intent immediately. By presenting themselves as a small, seemingly helpless group of humans standing in the open, they would bait the enemy into a state of lethal overconfidence.
The Pirates would lower their guards, wouldn’t start with a devastating broadside or a violent bombardment; they would treat this as a joke, a brief diversion in their journey. They wouldn’t fight with the caution they would show against a Dragon race army.
Underestimating the little group of those five humans had been the last mistake many made in the pocket trial, and John intended to ensure that history repeated itself here in the Source Code World.
"What are we waiting for then?" Luke grunted, rotating his shoulders and swinging his massive club in a series of bone-cracking arcs. "Let’s show these silver-plated bastards what humans can do."
As Cissel and Elena began their ascent of the hundred-meter towers, John watched them closely. He had noticed his own stats had undergone a massive leap since arriving, combining his Athanasia stats with his pocket trial’s, ending up tapping into a terrifying new baseline.
He suspected the same had happened to his friends, though they hadn’t had a system like him to realise the extent of their new power.
The proof came in an instant. The girls didn’t just climb; they were like a coiled string that got loose. They scaled the vertical surfaces of the towers in mere seconds, moving with a speed and ease that surpassed anything they were capable of a few days ago.
Seeing this, John’s smile widened. If the enemy was forced to engage them on the ground or in close quarters, they were going to be a much bigger problem than the Pirates anticipated.
"Let’s go," John signalled to Ricky.
The two of them descended the slope of the hill, moving away from the protective shadow of the towers. They stopped on the flat plains, roughly five hundred meters from the base of the hill, standing solitary and exposed under the massive shadows of the advancing fleet.
Up close, the intimidation factor of the ships multiplied. The low hum of the ships’ Mana-engines vibrated in John’s chest and others. The sheer scale of the silver hulls made him feel like a grain of sand beneath a silver avalanche. Yet, he didn’t feel a speck of worry. He took a deep breath, controlled his fast beating heart, and roared toward the sky.
"Who are you?!" his voice echoed across the plains. "What business do you have with us, humans?"
He made sure to emphasise the word humans, throwing it out like a piece of raw meat to a hungry wolf. The reaction was instant. The entire fleet, nearly forty ships strong, groaned as its black sails shifted. The air hissed as they suddenly halted their forward momentum and descended for a long distance towards the ground.
"Are they opening the portholes? Are they going to fire?" Ricky whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he gripped his two swords. He was visibly more stressed than usual, the scary sight of the flying fleet gnawing at his nerves.
"Not yet," John said, his eyes narrowed as he read the subtle shifts in the lead vessel.
The fleet remained stationary after descending for almost a couple of thousand metres, save for the massive central Galleon. It glided forward for another few hundred meters, looming directly over John and Ricky like a silver moon, before coming to a dead stop.
Then, the ropes fell.
They weren’t made of hemp or fibre, but a dark, metallic ore John had never seen before. Each rope was a heavy, sturdy chain that rattled with a menacing clatter as they hit the dirt.
As the chains settled, figures began to descend, sliding down from the high decks with effortless, terrifying speed that told John they must have done this countless times already.
John’s Wireframe Sight flared, attempting to parse the code of the newcomers. As the first group touched the ground and stepped into the light of the aurora, the breath hitched in Ricky’s throat.
They were tall and possessed a big build, their skin the colour of twilight and their eyes glowing with a faint, malevolent crimson. They wore intricate black armour that seemed to absorb the starlight.
"Demons?!!"
John hissed as the massive chains rattled against the ground, and lots of Pirates descended. These weren’t the lean, ethereal demons of common fantasy; they were massive, dark-red-skinned titans, each standing nearly triple the height of a human adult.
Their musculature was grotesque and bulging, straining against armour that looked like it had been forged in the bowels of a volcano. Their irises were a deep, viscous red, resembling raw rubies carved out of a bloody ore, and their ears were elongated into sharp points.
On a select few, the ones walking with an air of lethal grace, two small, bat-like wings sprouted from their shoulder blades.
The ropes didn’t just descend from the central Galleon. From the other ships in the fleet, hundreds of chains dropped simultaneously. In mere minutes, the plains in front of John and Ricky were choked with thousands of these red-skinned monsters.
The scene was genuinely breathtaking. The demons stood in tight, disciplined ranks, though their eyes flickered with clear, amused looks. Their armour was thick and hideous, adorned with miniature skulls of various species, some animal, some disturbingly humanoid, clamped onto the pauldrons and breastplates like macabre trophies.
They looked at the two humans with the naked hunger of a hyena eyeing a crippled gazelle. Ricky’s breath was hitching; he was visibly shaken, his mind struggling to grasp the sheer nature and identity of these creatures. But John? John felt a faint, cold smile tugging at his lips.