Chereads / My Sage System / Chapter 17 - Devils

Chapter 17 - Devils

The cloaked man staggered to his feet, the sharp sting of bruised ribs protesting every movement. Dust and crushed vegetation clung to his garments, remnants of his violent crash into the clearing. He took a steadying breath, his hood shifting slightly as he scanned the area.

Boyd was nowhere to be seen.

"Boyd?" His voice cut through the eerie quiet, low and taut with concern. There was no answer, only the faint rustling of leaves stirred by an indifferent breeze.

He grimaced and turned sharply, trying to retrace his memories of the chaotic seconds before he'd been hurled into the field. He flexed his hands, checking for injuries, when something peculiar made his skin crawl—a weight pressing into his back.

His body went rigid. This wasn't the soreness of impact or debris lodged in his cloak. It was a deliberate pressure, calculated and alive.

Slowly, with deliberate movements, he craned his neck to peer over his shoulder.

It was there.

A creature crouched on his back, clinging to him like a predator savoring the hunt. Its form was grotesque and otherworldly, its body an unnerving blend of sinew and darkness. Its eyes glinted with malice, twin orbs of predatory intent that seemed to gleam brighter as it registered his gaze.

The cloaked man reacted instinctively, twisting violently and slamming himself backward against a nearby tree trunk. The creature screeched, a guttural, almost human-like cry, before it was wrenched off and flung a few feet away.

Breathing hard, the cloaked man whipped around, drawing his dagger with a sharp metallic scrape. The creature had landed on its feet, its frame unnaturally bent as though its limbs had too many joints. Its mouth curled into a hideous smile, teeth gleaming like daggers.

He reached up to his ear, grimacing as his fingers came away streaked with blood. The monster had grazed him in its attempt to bite.

"Only luck kept me alive," he muttered under his breath, staring at the monstrosity. His thoughts churned. What in the hell is this thing? Where is the boy?

A single, undeniable truth burned in his mind—whatever this thing was, it was hostile. That made it his enemy.

The creature shifted, its shoulders rolling like a wolf preparing to pounce. The movement set the man on edge, his instincts screaming danger. His grip on the knife tightened, the leather of the hilt biting into his palm.

Then it grinned wider.

The cloaked man froze, unsure of what unnerved him more—the feral hostility in its expression or the unnatural intelligence gleaming in its eyes.

Suddenly, the creature's form convulsed. Its body jerked as if it were being torn apart from within. Bones cracked audibly, elongating, reshaping, as patches of dark feathers erupted across its flesh.

In moments, the twisted form of the creature transformed into something far more terrifying: a towering humanoid with the head of a sharp-beaked eagle, muscular arms ending in talons, and backward-hinged legs resembling those of a horse. Its yellow eyes blazed with cold fury, and its entire frame pulsed with an aura of overwhelming dominance.

The cloaked man staggered back a step, his eyes widening despite himself. What in the world? His mind raced. Can I even take this thing on by myself?

The bird-like creature let out a low, guttural laugh that reverberated through the clearing, shaking him to his core.

"No more running," the man murmured, his jaw tightening. He forced himself to steady his breathing and adjusted his stance. He might not have had the advantage, but one thing was clear: if he didn't stop this thing here, it would kill him—and probably Boyd, too.

Before he could strike, the creature's voice boomed, low and gravelly.

"Move, and you die."

The cloaked man froze mid-step. The command wasn't a threat; it was a statement. A promise. He could feel the sheer power behind the words, an overwhelming certainty that moving a single inch would result in his immediate demise.

His thoughts raced. Damn it... what is this thing? The aura it emitted was suffocating, a clear reminder of the gap between them. For the first time in years, fear crept into his heart.

The eagle-headed figure tilted its head, amused by his hesitation. It raised a single talon, pointing directly at him. "The boy dies. You leave. That's the only way you pass."

The words were sharp, definitive.

"What do you mean?" the cloaked man growled, his voice low but laced with defiance.

The creature didn't respond immediately. Instead, it slowly raised one of its clawed fingers. The movement was deliberate, unhurried.

Then it snapped its talons.

The sound was like a crack of thunder, and in an instant, the world shifted.

The cloaked man blinked, disoriented as the clearing vanished around him. The towering beast, the oppressive aura—it was all gone. In their place was a forest, dense and unyielding. The smell of blood assaulted his senses, and distant cries echoed faintly.

"What... the hell just happened?" he muttered, spinning in place. He had been standing face-to-face with the monster, but now he was here.

His eyes fell on a figure slumped against a tree. It was one of the servants—no, a young woman. Blood soaked her tunic, pooling around her on the forest floor. She coughed weakly, a garbled plea escaping her lips.

"Help... me..."

The cloaked man stepped closer, but before he could kneel, voices rang out from nearby.

"Who are you?" Two men emerged from the trees, their faces pale and their hands bloodied. They froze when they saw him, their expressions a mix of suspicion and desperation.

The cloaked man ignored them, his gaze fixed on the dying servant. Her eyes locked onto his, wide with fear and pain. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering what to do.

But the faint sound of heavy footsteps drew his attention. A low rumble vibrated through the air, and his head snapped up.

Beyond the trees, he saw it—a gargantuan figure standing ominously in a blood-soaked clearing. Its stone-like skin glistened under the dim light, unmoving and eerily silent.

The cloaked man's stomach churned.

It didn't roar. It didn't move.

It just stared.

The sight of the lifeless carriages and the broken bodies scattered across the clearing was nothing compared to the oppressive aura emanating from the giant.

He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. So, this is the big man, huh?

As he approached, the creature's massive head slowly tilted to one side, the sound of grinding stone echoing ominously. The cloaked man gritted his teeth, his hand tightening on his weapon.

"If I don't kill this thing now..."