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3.47 - Dwindling Opposition

Pain radiated up my left shoulder as I rolled across the floor, dust clouding the air along my route before I was up on my feet again. My dodge had turned something potentially fatal into a glancing blow, but had burned more energy than I had expected. Something had melted straight through my leather jacket and taken a slice out of my skin. Uncomfortable, but would heal up soon enough… if my energy could recover.

A familiar shape moved into the room after me, not allowing me too much time to recover. The minotaur-looking demon seemed to have survived his pit. In his right hand was a shortsword that glowed red-hot like a poker. In his left was a mallet of dark metal that barely picked up any of the surrounding light.

As my revolver went up, he was upon me - faster than his hulking form should allow. My attempt at an attack turned into a block, as sparks rang from my gun and I pushed the glowing blade away from me into the wall. It hissed and scarred the decaying metal, as if it wanted to melt through it given enough time. I took the blunt weapon to my right arm, not willing to risk wasting what energy reserves I had left.

My… mana, for casting demon magic. Shit.

I jumped backward as his follow-up was a jab with the sword. Perhaps not expecting such agility from a mere human, it had left a small opening. Well, that’s all I wanted and needed. Nothing left to chance.

He tried to move, but it was too late, only making it partway through the fifteen-foot wide beam of crimson and white energy. As my vision returned, his head, barely attached to his arm, dropped to the floor. The rest of him had been vaporized.

Yet, so had a lot of the terrain.

[We’d best move, Eric. We will attract vultures.]

I nodded, and my feet took me away. If anything, not being at the scene of the crime would help my energy levels rise back up. They weren’t as efficient as usual - either my dodge had a negative side I was learning the hard way, or something about this underground maze was stifling my power.

Lower power meant less corruption resistance. Which meant I was liable to get a little loose around the edges if this continued. Still balanced, so no risk of coming undone. All I had to do was skulk around and get a few more instant kills and survive. Hopefully, then I’ll be taken back above ground. Fresh air… or at least as fresh as it got in Hell. How odd your perception of things can change so much.

I had barely noticed that I had traveled through various new rooms, backtracking somewhat to try to distance myself from the destruction caused. Although my beam didn’t hit too deep, it made a nice pathway for others to come find me.

//There’s a lot of spectator interest in you now, apparently.

He must mean the demons, rather than those at home. Although, it was amusing to think that they had only briefly been paying attention to my exploits and instead had been playing a board game or discussing the weather. For a human, I have exceeded plenty of expectations - of that, I was sure. Even most Hunters would have started to turn into mash from the corruption at this stage, so I was an unknown that was shaking things up.

The tracker on my wrist started to buzz - to the left and forward.

Revolver up, I paced forward as quietly as I was able. Stepped into a scene that was both underwhelming and enraging at the same time.

Blood had soaked through the soft sand, clumping parts together, as Tuppa lay with his eyes wide open. Dead, a terrible chest wound being his undoing. Against the back wall, panting and losing a lot of their own blood, was an odd-looking devil, with a metallic jaw and long white hair. straight through her head, before she had a chance to gather the strength to oppose me.

The buzz on the tracker faded away. “You did me proud. Rest easy.” I tipped my hat to the fallen croc. Something inevitable, but I was at least glad it wasn’t by my own hand. I’m not sure he could even rest… what happened when demons died?

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What happened when people died?

The random thought popped into my mind, but quickly sunk away as I turned my focus to the trouble at hand right now. I’d think about… whatever the question was, some other time. If I remembered - or lived, at least.

I moved on from the dead bodies.

//Eight remain.

In some ways, I felt as though I was cheating. A voice in my head providing information. The device to let me know when demons were near. Wight being a separate being that allowed me full control of my senses.

I was fighting demons, however, so I didn’t care about playing fair. As always, I could return home in three seconds if they decided they didn’t like a human showing them up. Perhaps I could even see how many of them I could take out before vanishing - a thought that made me smile. Killing all demons was a big ask, but I’d do my best.

A sharp hiss followed by a rumbling noise echoing deeply around the ramshackle walls of the maze shook in my ears.

//Six…

Maybe letting others do all the hard work would be a better ploy. I only needed to kill one more in that instance.

As if hearing my inner monologue, the wrist-mounted tracker vibrated. Someone was enclosing on me - possibly tracking down whoever made the large blast. I was hoping that they took themselves out, and I wouldn’t have to face whatever that was. That said… if the demon en route was not after me, then I’d play it somewhat safe.

I worked myself over to a corner, hunkered down in some shadow with my gun up. Pragmatic, but not very showy. Here to survive, not be entertaining. Heavy footsteps came from the doorway further along the wall I was flush against. Slowly, I exhaled and held as still as I could.

A tall figure came in through the doorway, half-crouched to even fit. Scaled, deep reds and golds, spikes along the outside of their long arms and legs. Dinosaur-like in a way, their eyes were, however, forward facing. Didn’t notice me in their hurry to power through to whoever was making noise. Maybe their eyesight was based on movement - but they should be able to smell me, I would have thought.

No sense wishing ill on myself.

The beam of crimson light struck the back of the demon, intending to core through his chest and lungs - maybe even heart, if I was lucky. Instead, it ricocheted off, a sheen of gold flashing through their body as my shot went up into the ceiling.

Shit.

With a grunt, the demon stopped dead in its tracks and turned to glare at me with bright yellow eyes. No time for apologies. Revolver spun just outside my hand on a tendril of Wight’s power, ejecting dozens of faux empty shells. It stopped in motion as my opponent turned to leap toward me, his large claws at the ready.

The demonic whisper of the cast skill was quickly overrun by the large blast, aimed at his feet. Didn’t want to risk his armor reflecting it back at me or anywhere else untoward. Powdered stone and a cloud of dust washed through the small chamber.

He wasn’t damaged, but the destroyed floor caught him off guard. Flatfooted. With eyes blazing red, Wight controlled my arm, holding the dagger - seeing through the thick gray where my human eyes were failing to adjust. Pearl’s Salvation, with the weight of demonic energy behind it, slammed into his upper chest near his collarbone.

A roar of pain. Hot breath washing over me as the sound vibrated my ear so very close to undoubtedly sharp teeth. I fed him my revolver instead.

Scales didn’t protect him on the inside and his head burst like a watermelon. The beam drew a valley through the ceiling, adding a more rust colored dust to the settling cloud of debris.

[It might go without saying, but I would not show anything more than Hell skills.]

I grunted. Already on that path, there were too many eyes around to put all my cards on the table.

‘You don’t want to try to Entropy through me?’

[The risks are too great, Eric. You can taste the future, surely?]

I could, but hoped it was the spray of demon blood or something soaked through this terrain. But, no… something was going to happen in the tournament. After being through so much, you started seeing the thread of fate before it become fully realized. What it could actually be was anyone’s guess. Nothing good.

Another rumble came from down the way. Sound vibrating softly through the odd collection of metal paneling.

//Three.

Things were tightening up. I was almost getting excited now. Two more skulls to crack and then I’d be going against the Bronze ranked demon. Knowing that I had all of the horde above me watching my moves, I didn’t want to make it too obvious that I had a few heads back at home providing me with tips.

“So many of them,” I murmured to myself, “I wonder who the Bronze demon even is.”

Would it be common knowledge? Probably, but I was an outsider to this place, even if I was pretending to be possessed by Wight. I mean, that part wasn’t necessarily a lie. A Hunter patron wouldn’t have demonic pop culture knowledge. Hopefully, Rodney got the hint.

//Getting as much info as I can from Pearl.

I allowed myself a smile and turned back to head toward where the sounds were coming from. At first, avoiding the demons seemed like the smarter play… but now—so close to rising from the pits—the answer was as clear as it had always been.

Kill all demons.

Which was just two now, but I’m sure there would be plenty of collateral damage during the challenger stages.

I’d make sure of it.