The thug whimpered, his eyes wide with terror. "P-please! Don't kill me! I'll tell you anything!"
"Where is your boss?"
"Up..."
Behind me, the room was a scene of chaos. The thugs groaned and writhed on the floor, their cries of pain filling the air.
My calm stride toward the front was interrupted by a sudden, menacing presence behind me.
I froze, my senses sending me a warning, and turned to see a towering figure stepping out of the shadows. It was Syro, one of Vargas's most trusted underlings, known for his brute strength who fights using the deadly war axe from the informants.
Unlike other demons who looked malnourished, he was strong.
A menacing reddish body with two coiled horns groomed over his shoulder. A dense foliage of hairs covered his arms and his naked torso was filled with countless scars running down.
Clearly, this demon was no novice.
"Sir Syro!"
"He is the one who did it."
The third groaning in the ground screamed.
His eyes narrowed as he took in my handiwork and then looked at his men nursing wounds and humiliation.
"So, you're the troublemaker," Syro growled, raising his heavy war axe. His muscles rippled with power as he swung the weapon, the sharp edge glinting under the lights.
Without hesitation, I braced myself, dodging the first deadly arc of Syro's swing, twisting my body at the last possible moment. The edge of the axe sliced the air inches from me, its force sending a blast of wind that nearly threw me off balance.
Boom!
Syro's axe struck the wooden floor with such force that a cloud of dust erupted, momentarily clouding the air around us. My sharp eyes seized on the moment of impact, dashing forward and aiming my dagger at Syro's exposed side, my movements as swift and precise as a hunting hawk.
But Syro was no ordinary opponent.
With a sudden roar, he twisted, deflecting my blade with the handle of his axe and throwing me backward with a brutal shoulder shove. I staggered, barely keeping my footing, my breath quickening as I realized the true challenge before me.
Syro's strength was clearly at acolyte level and might even reach the boundary of Warden and every move he made seemed to shake the ground beneath us.
CLASH!
Syro swung his axe again, a powerful, merciless strike aimed directly at my torso. I ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade's edge. But Syro was relentless, following up with a vicious series of swings that forced me into a constant, frantic dodge.
Sweat ran down my face as I moved, my dagger gleaming as I parried and struck whenever I saw an opening. My dexterity and agility allowed me to score a few shallow cuts across Syro's arms, but the hulking demon barely flinched. Each cut only seemed to anger him more, his movements growing fiercer with every strike.
Suddenly, Syro let out a thunderous laugh, his voice dripping with condescension. "Is this the best you've got?" he taunted, swinging the axe in a wide arc. I barely sidestepped the blow, feeling the rush of air as it grazed past me.
But then, Syro saw through my movement. With a cruel smile, Syro slammed the butt of his axe into my gut, sending me stumbling backward.
The world spun, my vision blurring for a moment. I struggled to stay on my feet, but before I could recover, Syro's massive fist connected with my jaw, sending me crashing to the floor.
Blood and saliva jolted down from my throat which I forcefully swallowed in.
I gasped, my body wracked with pain as I tried to push myself up, my vision dimming. But Syro loomed over me, the massive axe poised for a killing blow.
"Time to finish this," Syro sneered, raising the weapon high above his head.
My heart pounded as I braced myself, and my dagger slipped from my weakened grip but I tried to move.
"Wait!" A smooth, commanding voice cut through the tension like a blade.
Syro froze, lowering his axe just as a figure stepped forward from the crowd Vargas.
With a smirk, Vargas looked me over, his sharp gaze assessing every detail.He bent and grabbed my hair and pulled me up.
"Hmm!What a pretty charming face."
My eyes glared at him, clearly annoyed by that remark but Vargas ignoring it slammed my face on the ground.
"Don't kill him," Vargas ordered, his tone casual yet firm. "He's got a face that's too good to waste on a quick death." He chuckled, circling me as though inspecting a piece of art. "A pretty face like his… we might find some use for him."
"Also, he didn't kill any of our members did he?"
Hearing Syro looking around at his men who shook their heads.
Syro scoffed, reluctantly lowering his weapon.
"If you say so," he grumbled, casting a disappointed glance at me, as I lay defeated but defiant, my gaze still sharp despite my exhaustion.
As Vargas moved closer, I gritted my teeth, every fiber of my being wanting to strike back.
But I was beaten as he knocked my face slamming it again on the floor until my vision went dark.
"Don't worry," Vargas murmured."We will make sure to use that handsome face well."
Saying this Vargas rose up and spoke," Throw him to the basement."
And as he turned around covering me, everyone failed to notice the edges of my face curling up.