Chapter 734: Demonkin
The curse demon gate was set on the crest of a gently sloping hill. The air was thick with infernal curse mana, drifting out in black tendrils like swamp miasma. Just looking at it caused my chest to prickle where red lines had once burned, and shivers to run down my tail.
"It’s smaller than I thought," R’lissea said.
"It’s on the weaker end of seventh," Fyren said.
Some movement on the edge of my gate caught my eye.
"There’s the demonkin. Should we approach," I asked.
"Stay back, " Fyren said, striding ahead of us. "Frightened prey is prone to lashing out, and I won’t have you caught in a crossfire."
Before I could react, he shed his humanoid visage, assuming his towering, twenty-foot-tall demon form. His aura abruptly surged, filled with flickering flames that danced from the molten lines drawn throughout his scales.
The demonkin, though still a few hundred feet off, noticed his presence immediately. They scrambled to their feet, clutching their weapons tightly. There were almost a dozen of them, clustered together, tails twitching anxiously.
"There are a few beastkin, too," R’lissea murmured.
I nodded, finding the large silhouette of a bear kin towering in the back, and a thin, scrawny rat kin on the side, hiding in the shadow of the leader.
For his part, the leader was tall and broad-shouldered, with a broad sword held firmly in his grip. He wore a tarnished breastplate that resembled those of the northern kingdoms of the Northern Continent, like Brithlite and Heartland. His hair was long and greasy, held back by a helmet that looked a size too small. His cloak was stained with blood and dirt, tattered on the edge like an old flag.