Chapter 740: Inevitable End
Fable struggled to his feet, shaking off the last of the scions. Every wound he left, no matter how slight, sprouted vines and thorns. The roses that blossomed on each one continued to absorb their mana until their body was completely drained. It never actually drained their soul, being life magic, but no attributed creature could survive without some trace of mana in their muscles and organs. Those with corporeal bodies became withered, mummified husks, while the demons made of darkness itself imploded into the vines.
As the last scions were torn apart, Fable set his gaze on the sword-wielding evolved demon. He was covered in wounds, and the demon’s aura made him shake, but he bounded toward it. Excitement oozed throughout our bond.
The demon lifted its long, skinny sword and gripped it in both hands, shifting its weight and striking a stance. The tip of its sword was unwavering, held in confident hands. It began to channel mana into the blade, readying a seventh-level magical technique.
Fable circled him a few paces before lunging and nipping at its ankle. The blade flashed, plunging the blade down at his neck. Its speed surpassed Fable’s, and the wolf barely avoided it by leaping aside. His extended teeth missed the demon’s leg by a few scant inches.
The demon brought his sword about in an arc, warding Fable back a dozen paces. He followed up with a whirling series of slashes. They seemed random at first, some not even coming close to hitting the wolf, but left dark lines of curse magic in the air. Fable tried to avoid them, but each was a string in a net slowly boxing in his movement.
Once the air hung heavy with curse magic, the demon started thrusting, forcing Fable to move erratically to dodge. His tail brushed one of the curses, and he stiffened, his speed dropping by an alarming amount. Like the thread attack from before, these curses clung to him, entangling his movements.
Sure enough, after acquiring a few more threads, the demon scored a bloody cut across his chest, baring the bone of his ribs. Fable lashed with his claws, but the demon’s sword was there, catching the glowing green blades with a jarring clang. It pressed forward, landing several more minor blows against his shoulders.
"Shouldn’t we help?" I asked, tail switching violently. "He’s hurt!"
Villie shook her head. "It’s just getting good. Watch."