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{Chapter: 139: Arrival}
After kicking that bunch of scum to death, he successfully got the first kill of this group of Abyss troops. Although he killed all his teammates, he could still make do with it. After all, killing anyone is killing.
To Dex, the concept of "team" was laughable among demons. Allies were just enemies you hadn't gotten around to killing yet. And besides, someone had to earn the first kill honor of this suicide squad. That someone just happened to be him. Even if the kills were his own side, well... corpses were corpses.
"Dead is dead," he muttered with a wicked grin as he pulled his tail back from the cratered ground. "Better them than me."
The air around him still sizzled with leftover magic from the teleportation, but it was quickly dispersing, leaving behind only silence—and the faint sensation of being watched.
Dex narrowed his eyes, his gaze cutting through the drifting dust and smoke. Off in the distance, nestled in the twisted plains stained with abyssal corruption, he spotted movement—figures, structures, and something resembling... organization.
He squinted.
"Well, well... what do we have here?" he mused aloud.
It was a military camp—at least, that was the charitable description. In reality, it looked like a chaotic sprawl of uneven hills, hastily stacked rocks, and piles of crude, organic material that pulsed faintly as if alive. Dozens—no, hundreds—of abyssal creatures crawled, ran, slithered, and flew between the mounds. Some snarled and fought, others cackled and feasted. The place gave off a stench of rot, blood, and unfiltered violence.
It resembled more of a savage horde's resting pit than a legitimate army encampment. Calling it a "military camp" was like calling a pile of corpses a kingdom.
Still, something in that mess had structure. Several demons were gathered around larger mounds, organizing weapons, maintaining summoned beasts, and channeling mana into war engines made of bone and sinew. It wasn't much, but it was something.
From the way several of the monsters in the camp had stopped and were now staring directly at him, Dex could tell he had caught their attention.
"Ah, must be my dashing entrance," Dex smirked and gave a mock bow followed by a casual wave. "Don't worry, I'll be here all week."
Pleased with himself, he stretched his wings and yawned dramatically.
It didn't take long before someone flew toward him from the camp. The approaching figure soared through the blood-tinted sky with practiced grace, his wings beating powerfully despite his strange physique.
The creature that landed in front of Dex was bizarre even by abyssal standards. His upper body was vaguely humanoid—though with hardened crimson skin and runic carvings along his arms. His lower half, however, was a grotesque mix of beast and bird—resembling a griffin with black feathers and wicked talons. His head was avian, long and narrow, more eagle than man, and his eyes gleamed with the cold sharpness of a commander.
The creature's aura identified him immediately to Dex's trained senses—an [Upper Demon], clearly tasked with managing the mess that was this suicide division.
Without preamble, the eagle-headed demon scanned the group. His piercing gaze passed over Dex and the other newly arrived abyssal soldiers. In one clawed hand, he held a whip crackling with cursed energy. In the other, a branded token of authority glowed with Lord Karto's infernal mark.
"Welcome to this warfront, filth," the commander squawked in a raspy voice. "I am Vezkhar, charged by Lord Carto to manage this region and all who crawl into it. You have two options: First, you join my command, follow my orders, and survive by my favor. Second, you go it alone. But remember... the pact you signed with the Abyss still binds you. You cannot flee. You cannot disobey Carto's will without consequence."
He paused, watching the group carefully.
Dex scratched the back of his head and gave a toothy grin.
'So diplomatic. So polite,' he thought, amused. 'Translation: he knows he's outnumbered and hopes we're too stupid to notice.'
From his aura alone, Dex could tell the eagle-headed demon wasn't strong enough to force obedience. Sure, he carried Carto's emblem, but unless the Demon Lord himself showed up, that only counted for so much in a den of demons.
Dex shifted his eyes to the others around him—many were [Upper Demons] like himself. A few even gave off fluctuating energy signatures that hinted at greater potential. He wasn't the only one unimpressed.
Without a word, several demons turned and began to leave. Some flapped their wings and took off into the dark skies. Others dug into the ground, disappearing beneath the soil like snakes returning to their lairs. A few simply melted into shadows or vanished with abilities.
They had made their choice: to work solo and survive on their own terms.
Dex, of course, was among them.
He chuckled and turned away from Vezkhar without a second glance.
"Being someone's attack dog? Not in this life. Unless you're paying in something sweeter than empty threats."
His tail flicked lazily behind him as he walked toward the distant hills.
Still, Dex wasn't foolish. He knew the risks of being a lone operative in a world still rejecting their invasion. But he also knew one truth—being under another demon's thumb was a slow death. Here, at least, he had a chance to control his own fate. Even if it meant bleeding for it.
---
Back in the camp, Vezkhar watched the retreating demons with narrowed eyes. He knew the type. Demons who bowed today would betray you tomorrow. And the ones who refused to bow? They'd be back later to try to take your position—or your head.
But Vezkhar wasn't naive. This was the Abyss. Loyalty was an illusion, and betrayal was the default. He didn't need their obedience. He needed time.
He turned to the demons who had chosen to stay.
"Go," he commanded. "Enter the camp. Rest. Let the corruption of this land loosen the world's restraints on your strength. Soon, your power will return."
The demons moved reluctantly, but they obeyed—for now.
Vezkhar exhaled slowly. As long as they respected Lord Karto's name, they wouldn't strike. That brand he carried bought him time and influence. But if it ever faded...
He glanced toward the hills where Dex had vanished.
"Let's see how long the wild ones last," he muttered.
And then he returned to his command post, wings flapping softly as he prepared for the chaos that would inevitably come.
Because among demons, peace was just the quiet before the next betrayal.
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