As for himself, Gloe was going to beard the dragon in its den. All four C-Types were bedded down with the grappler, so they had to try to off something in there while they were all still sleeping.
Nothing would die silently though, so he was anticipating things getting ugly fast. The question was whether he should go for one of the C-Types or the grappler. The C-Types were an almost guaranteed kill, but the grappler was the toughest and the most dangerous so any edge would be useful.
Once he crept inside he realized there was a bit of separation between the occupants. Apparently the grappler valued its personal space while the C-Types slept in pairs. That was odd. He was starting to wonder about this duo thing the C-Types had going on, but that was for later. There were some veterans scattered around the pen too, but they were sleeping intermingled so he ruled them out immediately.
It had to be the grappler, right? He could try for a double kill on the C-Types, but there was a chance he’d miff one or both. The fact that nothing was near the grappler made it the logical choice.
Picking his footing carefully he snuck closer. He hadn’t had time to make any magical stealth gear but, like everything else, his aptitude had greatly improved. Someday, if he lived, he was going to have to train at this. And a lot of other things.
Even in its sleep the grappler’s shroud was active. Gloe had thought that would be the case, but he hadn’t been certain. He wasn’t able to check his own while sleeping after all. It was reassuring in a way. Of course he didn’t have the naturally tough hide and dense musculature this monster did, so he probably wouldn’t be able to survive a well-placed imbued knife in his sleep.
This probably would though. These blades just weren’t long, sturdy or heavy enough. He paused infinitesimally, weighing his options. Then he took the last few steps forward.
The grappler’s instincts were fantastic. Even in its sleep it somehow sensed Gloe. Perhaps by scent, or even a legitimate sixth sense. It sprang up, roaring as it reached out to seize and crush the attacker.
Impressive, but once it woke up Gloe instantly realized how it would respond. He’d named them grapplers for a reason. He was already striking, and he was fast and dexterous enough to smoothly adjust his attacks mid-blow. Each of his blades sank deep into a respective shoulder. Then he ducked under the closing arms, rolling and coming up with one of the grappler’s spiked gauntlets. He swung it two-handed, smashing it into the monster’s head and using the force of the blow to propel him into a backward somersault.
The C-Types there were still in the process of jolting awake, and he cuffed two aside as he seized their machetes before they could. He leapt backwards and the enraged C-Types clambered to their feet and set out in pursuit. He impacted the wall and kicked off without taking the time to imbue. The sturdy concrete-like material absorbed the force easily, a fact he made note of. Flying over the C-Types he slashed out at both, then kicked off the back wall towards the entrance. Rolling through it he flipped around, just outside. Then he waited.
The demonlings were off-balance and furious at being attacked in their den. They threw themselves at him, but although the doorway was large enough to allow a grappler through it still limited how many could come through at once. Gloe planted his feet and began a frenzied frenetic flurry of slashes, throwing all his force into each whipping back and forth blow. He’d imbued to the ground so his force wasn’t disturbing his footing, and although the demonlings gave off less emotion and pain there was enough throughout the compound to keep him from tiring, especially since he wasn’t injured yet.
When the vets tried to swarm over him it was like they walked into a garbage disposal. Most of them were dead or dying before the grappler could even focus enough to order them back. The two uninjured C-Types came through more deliberately, each focusing on parrying one blade as they closed through the door. They hadn’t been awake for his earlier acrobatics though, so they believed the weaving cuts he was using were his main strategy. They were completely unprepared for him to abruptly send the machetes spinning towards their legs.
They easily parried the projectiles, but while they were doing that Gloe scooped up a couple of daggers and sent himself hurtling in the weapons’ wake. Each C-Type took a dagger to the eye and fell back in pain and confusion. Gloe reacquired the machetes and took a moment to reassess.
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Anger everywhere. Most of the demonlings were coming awake. Oresus was scared and angry, but more or less in control. No significant pain coming from him yet. Emokha was boiling over with rage. She must have started using her ability, whatever it was. No pain from her either.
The plan was to kill as many demonlings as they could easily. When Gloe sensed significant pain from either of his companions he would collect both and all three would flee. None of the demonlings could catch him if he was uninjured and moving full speed, even with the additional weight of his temporary companions.
What Gloe hadn’t told them was that the official plan wasn’t all there was to this mission. Oh, if they got hurt he was going to intervene of course. Probably not to flee though. Given past experience he strongly suspected he could kill all of these demonlings if he utilized hit and run tactics, so he didn’t intend to leave any alive in his wake if he could help it.
The reason he hadn’t simply tried to fight all the creatures himself was twofold. First, Emokha and Oresus wanted levels and he saw no reason not to oblige them if possible. There were plenty of demonlings available in Laukis’ kingdom after all, especially for someone with his speed and traversal capabilities. Second, it was a test. If Oresus and Emokha acquitted themselves competently in this fight he’d help equip them and send them on their way to the north. If they struggled he’d still equip them, but recommend they spend time with the Legion after all.
No way to gauge their capabilities if he didn’t finish up here though. The C-Types were hesitating, conferring with the grappler it seemed. He squinted at them, trying to read their body language, then had a flash of intuition. Those were becoming more common. He suspected his subconscious was getting better at rapidly extrapolating from partial data.
Charging, he flipped over an incoming machete, hitting the low ceiling feet first. Immediately he kicked off, flipping again. His machetes weren’t designed for slashing but switching to a reverse grip helped. To the floor, tumble under a strike, kick off the wall and slash. Push off the ceiling to avoid two blows, flip, off the floor, slash. Wall, wall, ceiling, slash. Every second flip was a reverse of the previous one in order to help maintain his equilibrium.
The demonlings were powerful but his experience at Tranche suggested they were also designed primarily as scouts and cannon-fodder. They kept the pressure on the enemy with repeated probing attacks, allowing unseen observers to gauge the defenses without revealing the capabilities of demons with abilities. In final assaults they swamped the defenders, wearing them out before the demons launched the decisive blow. He had no idea how they were created or bred, but they seemed to be expendable. If they leveled up and became powerful that was just a bonus.
As such their training was fairly minimal, and although they weren’t stupid as such they were built around obedience and aggressiveness, not creativity. He had witnessed first-hand that they could learn from experience though, so it could be dangerous to engage veterans in circumstances they were familiar with. Overall their primary strengths were strength, numbers and tenacious aggression.
In contrast his own advantages against them were speed, agility and unconventional tactics. The inside of the pen turned out to amplify his own strengths while blunting the demonlings’. They didn’t have sufficient space to swarm him, nor to swing unrestrained blows. The first few times they hit each-other were enough to teach them discretion. His slashing attacks weren’t doing a lot of damage, but he wasn’t taking any, so he was clearly going to win a battle of attrition.
As soon as they realized this and began to try to change their formation he changed tactics as well. A C-Type struck out, and rather than slashing and fleeing after dodging he stuck the landing, flipped both machetes back to a normal grip and brought them crashing down on the outstretched arm, severing it. Then he abruptly ceased eating the fear of the other C-Type that still had two eyes. The sudden wave of felt apprehension wasn’t enough to make it flee, but its judgment was sufficiently affected that it decided the best play was to secure the door. When it turned its back Gloe planted a machete squarely in its spine, then scooped up its own fallen weapon.
The other two C-Types and the grappler moved in together to pin him against the wall. He rolled to the newly-created blind side of one, hitting it with a stinging slash and ceasing to eat its anger all in one motion. It lashed out in fury, blindly catching the grappler as it moved to cut Gloe off. As they were tangled up for a moment Gloe dropkicked the C-Type into the grappler, stumbling both and sending him slamming into the wall.
Accepting the hit he bounced back to his feet and charged the other one-eyed C-Type. Parrying its strike with one blade he landed three solid bodyshots, then rolled aside as the other C-Types and the grappler rounded on him. After that it was more or less over. Only one C-Type was really combat effective, the rest were just trying to pin him so the grappler could crush him with unsteady arms. He led them a merry chase for a few more minutes, using the walls ceiling and floor to propel himself into blind spots and deliver additional crippling blows.
They were tough bastards, he had to give them that. The C-Types wouldn’t stop coming after him even with multiple missing or crippled limbs, and he ended up having to decapitate all of them. The grappler was still hunting for him even when it was the last one alive and it had taken multiple hits to the eyes and throat. He had to chop at the back of its neck like he was cutting down a tree to finally put it down, and even through imbue he more or less ruined that machete.