The Damned Demon

Chapter 778: Will Wait Under The Sea



The Bloodburn Kingdom lay in ruins, a kingdom once known for its regal cities and elegant architecture now reeked of blood, death, and destruction.

The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and decaying flesh. Bodies littered the streets, their once vibrant forms reduced to lifeless husks, and the rivers that flowed through the kingdom were tinged crimson, carrying the despair of its people downstream.

The Umbralfiends, the proud protectors of the northern seas, had fought valiantly, their advantage in water combat nearly unmatched. But even their resilience crumbled under the relentless onslaught of the draconian forces. The waters that were their sanctuary had turned into a battlefield, and no amount of mastery over darkness and water could stop the tide of bloodshed.

Among the devastation, Narissara stood on the edge of the shattered coastline, her long black hair drenched and her eyes burning with anguish. The massive form of Callisa, their young Kraken guardian, loomed beneath her, its black carapace glistening with sea spray. Callisa let out a low, mournful mewl, the sound reverberating through the chaos like a lament for her people.

"Kooooo..." Callisa whimpered, her massive pincers shifting anxiously as if sensing the despair in her companion.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Narissara reached out, her slender hand caressing the rough, cold surface of Callisa's carapace. Her touch was tender, though her heart was breaking. "I'm sorry, Callisa... Once I get you to safety, I will go back. I'll save Isola. I promise I will bring her back for you," Narissara said, her voice trembling with grief and guilt.

Callisa's glowing eyes dimmed as if understanding the weight of Narissara's words. The young Kraken let out another sorrowful sound, her massive form speeding through the open waters as Narissara sat on her back.

Narissara held on tightly, her gaze fixed on the horizon, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she was abandoning Moraxor and Isola.

She had to follow the painful decision of saving Callisa since they knew the draconians would try to forcibly tame her, and if they couldn't, they would kill her, ending her bloodline.

Callisa didn't budge initially, being stubborn to go to Isola and crying for Asher. But she somehow convinced her what was best for everyone in this grave situation.

The winds howled, carrying the sounds of battle from the distant shore.

The screams of her people, the clash of weapons, and the guttural roars of the draconian forces reached Narissara's ears, each sound a dagger in her heart. She wanted nothing more than to turn back, to fight alongside her husband and daughter, but she knew what she had to do.

"If only you were here, Asher..." she whispered bitterly, her eyes narrowing with a mix of anger and despair. "You promised to protect us...my daughter. How could you leave us at a time like this?" She still couldn't believe he abandoned them at a time like this to go elsewhere and still didn't return. She never knew he would be the kind of man to do this. Did she misjudge him?

Back on the shore, amidst the chaos...

Moraxor stood defiant against the tide of draconian soldiers that surrounded him. His imposing figure was a mirror to the strength of his people, his dark armor glistening with seawater and streaked with blood. His trident, a weapon imbued with the powers of darkness and the ocean's fury, was a blur as he struck down foe after foe.

"You think you can conquer our waters, draconians?" Moraxor bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar that echoed over the crashing waves. "You may take our land, but the sea will never bow to you!"

With a sweep of his trident, a surge of dark water erupted from the ground, spiraling into a torrent that engulfed the soldiers and the draconian generals nearest to him. Their screams were short-lived as the water turned to crushing ice, freezing them in grotesque statues that shattered upon hitting the ground.

Moraxor's muscles rippled as he moved with the precision of a predator, his trident striking true with every motion. Bolts of darkness erupted from his weapon, piercing through the armor of the draconians like paper. Yet, for every enemy he felled, two more took their place. A sharp spear grazed his side, drawing a deep gash that oozed dark crimson. Another blade sliced his thigh, forcing him to his knees for a moment. He growled in pain but pushed himself up, his trident spinning to deflect the next barrage of attacks.

Blood dripped from his wounds, staining the sand beneath him. The sea, his ally, responded to his call as waves crashed against the shore, pulling some of his enemies into the watery abyss. But even the sea's might couldn't hold back the overwhelming numbers.

His gaze flicked toward the horizon, where Callisa had vanished into the mist with Narissara along with a few of his people. Relief washed over him, knowing they were out of immediate danger. Yet his heart ached, knowing this was likely the last time he would see his beloved wife and daughter.

A draconian general charged toward him, roaring as he raised his weapon. Moraxor turned with a snarl, impaling the soldier with a thrust of his trident. He pulled the weapon free, dark energy crackling along its length as he swung it in a wide arc, scattering his attackers like leaves in the wind.

But his strength was waning. His vision blurred, and his breaths came in ragged gasps. A particularly brutal strike from a draconian blade bit into his shoulder, and he dropped to one knee, his trident still clutched tightly in his hand.

More draconians approached from the distance, their silhouettes ominous against the burning horizon. Moraxor knew he wouldn't last much longer.

He turned his gaze toward the sea, the place that had always been his home and sanctuary. A soft smile graced his lips despite the pain wracking his body, "Isola, Narissara... my people... forgive me for failing to protect you all. I will be waiting under the sea..." he whispered, his voice barely audible over the din of battle.

The light in his eyes dimmed, and his body slumped forward, his trident falling from his grasp and his bloodied body slowly submerging into the waters. The king of the Umbralfiends had fallen, but his sacrifice had bought precious time for those he loved.

Far out at sea, Narissara felt a shiver run through her body. Her grip on Callisa's carapace tightened as tears streamed down her face. She didn't need to see it to know. Moraxor was gone. She bit her lip, her heart breaking as she whispered, "Rest well, my husband. Your sacrifice will not be in vain..."

The crimson-soaked stones of Demonstone Castle bore grim witness to the slaughter of the Crimson Army's final line of defense.

Draconian soldiers, their wings glinting in the flickering light of the castle's flames, flooded through the wide entrance, their swords mercilessly cutting down the last brave guards. The metallic tang of blood mingled with the acrid smoke of burning banners.

Terrified screams echoed through the vast halls as servants fled, only to be cut down or dragged off by the invading soldiers. A few young maids were spared, only to be snatched by leering draconians whose sinister intentions made their fates worse than death.

Commander Zulgi entered the castle with the stoic precision of a veteran.

His dark cape billowed behind him, his piercing eyes scanning the ruins of resistance. Flanked by elite guards clad in dark red armor, he gestured silently, his hand cutting through the air

like a blade.

"Search every corner of this castle. Bring me the key. No delays," he commanded, his voice sharp and unyielding. His guards spread out, their heavy boots echoing ominously down the castle's darkened corridors.

-

On the other side of the castle, the chaos was no less dire. Merina stood her ground. Her claws were bloodied, her breaths ragged, but her resolve was unbroken. She moved with a deadly grace, felling two draconian soldiers who had been advancing on a cluster of trembling maids

and servants.

Her fellow maids and servants, who had once dismissed her as nothing more than a lowly

servant, mocking her bloodline, were now struck silent by her strength and courage. They couldn't help but feel guilty for looking down upon someone who was risking her life to save them even in a situation like this.

But awe quickly turned to horror as the draconian reinforcements pressed their advantage.

Three of them struck simultaneously, overwhelming Merina with their combined attack. She was hurled against the cold stone wall, the impact sending cracks spidering out across its

surface.

Merina slumped to the ground, her vision spinning as pain wracked her body. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay conscious as she saw the draconians approaching her, their malicious grins cutting through the haze of battle.

"Keke, look at this juicy thing," a deep, rasping voice echoed, and the draconians stepped

aside as their general entered the room. His eyes, glowing like molten gold, were fixed on Merina's prone form. His wicked smile spread wider as he took in her well-endowed figure with such ripe curves. He can't remember the last time he met such a inviting beauty.

Merina's heart pounded in her chest as she sensed his overwhelming power. The aura emanating from him was suffocating-a low-level Soul Devourer, leagues above her own strength as a low level Soul Purger.

"I never expected a mere werewolf maid to look this pretty," the general sneered, licking his

lips, "Don't tell me... you're the king's personal slave, aren't you? I've heard the rumors about him keeping a werewolf pet. That makes this all the more interesting and fun when I make you scream under me kekeke."

Merina gritted her teeth and tried to rise, but her body refused to obey. She was powerless to stop him as he stepped closer, his towering form casting a shadow over her.

But before he could take another step, a zealous, angry shout echoed through the room, "You dare look at my mother with your fugly eyes?!"

The general and his soldiers turned, startled, to see a young man standing between them and Merina. His red skin glistened with sweat, his dark blue eyes blazing with determination. In his trembling hand, he clutched a small dagger that looked more like a toothpick compared to

the draconian's massive blade.

"K-Kookus? What are you doing here? I... I told you to run!" Merina gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and exasperation. She couldn't believe her son had stayed behind

despite her warnings.

"Kekeke, this is your son?" The general chuckled darkly, his soldiers joining him in cruel laughter. "How adorable. A mere Soul Eater like you thinks you can protect your mother from me? I could kill you with a sneeze, hahahaha."

Kookus, unfazed by their laughter, puffed out his chest and slammed it with his fist in a grand

gesture, "Only ignorant fools laugh at me. But once they know who I am, they will tremble in fear and piss their pants."

The general raised a scaly brow, clearly amused, "Oh? And who might you be, little dog?"

"I," Kookus declared with dramatic flair, pausing for effect, "am the grandson of the... Moon

Guardian!"