The clash between Noah Argoth and the succubus general was a spectacle of power and violence, shaking the very earth beneath them. Each strike sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield, leaving devastation in their wake.
Noah's breaths came ragged, his body already fatigued from the earlier battles, and his mana reserves dangerously low. Yet, there was no room for retreat. Not now. Not with so much at stake.
Seraphelle, the succubus general, was as formidable as she was alluring. Her aura pulsed with dark energy, a testament to her full strength, which had yet to be diminished by combat fatigue.
Every movement was calculated and graceful, like a deadly dance performed in the midst of chaos. Noah's odds against her were bleak—at best, he had a fifty percent chance of victory if he were at full strength. As it stood, with more than half his mana already expended, even that seemed like a generous estimate.
Still, he pressed on.
Noah's silver blade flashed through the air, cutting down anything in its path. He swung with ferocity, aiming not only to strike Seraphelle but also to keep her at bay. Sparks flew as his sword met her whip—a weapon over two meters long, lined with vicious spikes, and tipped with a heart-shaped blade that dripped with malevolence.
When the whip cracked, it split the ground as though it were parchment, leaving deep fissures and shattering the bodies of unfortunate soldiers—both human and demon—who strayed too close.
Seraphelle's assault spared no one. Human and demon alike were caught in the crossfire of her destructive attacks, their lives ending in a brutal instant.
Her whip lashed out again, tearing through the torso of a demon that stood in the way, the spikes embedding in its flesh before ripping free, leaving nothing but a mangled corpse.
The battlefield was littered with demons of all shapes and sizes. The demonic army consisted of many races, but the succubus race was one of the most feared and rarest.
Each succubus possessed an otherworldly beauty and terrifying power—a combination that had claimed the lives of countless human men. More human males had fallen to the seductive allure of succubi than to any other demonic race, and the death toll continued to climb.
The reason for their lethality was their innate ability—an enchantment that reached into the deepest desires of men, luring them into an inescapable trap. The succubi could drain the life force from their prey, feeding on it to sustain their long lives.
It was not merely a physical seduction; their power extended into the realm of dreams, twisting reality itself to ensnare the minds of their victims. Once a man had succumbed to their charm, escape was nearly impossible.
Noah knew all too well the danger he faced. Yet, despite the odds, he stood his ground, drawing deeply from the last vestiges of his mana.
"I'll be damned!" He roared, burning through his own life force to fuel his attacks, each swing of his blade becoming more desperate and ferocious. His muscles screamed in protest, but he forced himself to push harder, faster. He couldn't afford to let up. If he could just find an opening—just one.
There! He saw his chance. With a surge of energy, Noah sidestepped a lethal strike from the whip and lunged forward, aiming his blade at Seraphelle's exposed flank. He knew this strike would not be enough to end her, but it could create an opening to deliver a more decisive blow.
But just as his blade was about to connect, a second presence flared to life on the battlefield. A chill crept down his spine as he sensed it—a powerful aura, similar to Seraphelle's, yet distinct. It happened in an instant, too fast for him to react. Another succubus general materialized between them, her spear thrusting forward with blinding speed. Noah barely had time to twist his body out of the way, the spear's tip grazing his side and tearing through his armor.
Seraphelle's laughter echoed across the battlefield as she backed away, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "You didn't think I'd face you alone, did you?" she taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. She cast a playful glance at the new arrival, who stood poised and ready, her spear glinting in the dim light. "Thank you, Astarielle. Your timing is impeccable."
Noah's heart sank. Fighting one succubus general at half strength had already been a gamble. Now, facing two was nothing short of suicide. He tightened his grip on his blade, his knuckles turning white as he tried to assess his options. But there were none.
"Let's end him." Seraphelle and Astarielle moved in unison, attacking him from different angles, giving him no time to recover or regroup. Their strikes came fast and relentless, wearing him down bit by bit, chipping away at his mana, his life force, and even the very armor he wore.
The seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as the two generals slowly dismantled his defenses. Noah fought desperately, but his movements grew sluggish, his vision blurred.
Each time he parried one of their attacks, another would slip through, cutting into his flesh or hammering against his armor. His breaths became labored, and a deep fatigue settled into his bones. He couldn't keep up.
Then, the inevitable happened.
Astarielle's spear pierced through his chest, the blade driving deep into his body and erupting out the other side.
Schpuk!
"Fuck!" Pain exploded in his mind, radiating outward in waves that threatened to swallow him whole. She withdrew the spear with a savage yank, leaving him to stagger backward, his legs barely supporting his weight.
"No," he rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I can't… fall… here…"
Astarielle raised her spear to strike again, this time aiming for his head. But Seraphelle's hand shot out, halting her. "Not yet," she said, a sadistic glint in her eyes as she approached the dying warrior. "I promised him a slow death."
She knelt beside Noah, her fingers tracing his jaw before they wrapped around his throat. Her other hand pressed against his chest, and he felt a sickening pull as she began to drain his life force. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.
The pain was excruciating, as if his very essence was being ripped away, leaving behind nothing but a hollow shell.
"Ahhhhh!" His screams echoed across the battlefield, a haunting cry that was quickly drowned out by the chaos around him.
As his vision dimmed and his strength faded, one thought burned in his mind. 'This cannot be the end…'