Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

BANG

As the impact pressed against his bones, making them groan in protest, he thrust his left palm back.

ROAR

A condensed burst of dark flames erupted, adding momentum to his weight and preventing the pressure from sending him flying. The familiar sensation of pain engulfed his right arm as he felt his bones turn into dust. But he had secured his position.

His mouth opened wide to let out a shrill scream that melded agony and rage. These sensations were too familiar, and so was the searing jolt as Excalibur's scabbard knit his broken bones. And with them, drowned under endless hordes of abyssal spawns, he had learned that stepping back was the same as dying—this time was no different.

He snapped his head forward, his sharp teeth reflecting the brazier below and his jaw muscles tensing.

Like a wounded tiger lunging for the carotid, he bit down on the whip-like neck, coarse strands of tentacle-hair brushing against his cheeks as his teeth sank toward the flesh.

He heard the creature laugh at first. After all, what could a mere demon's teeth do to its glorious body? Yet his eye flashed with feral savagery as his veins throbbed in his neck and his draconic teeth sunk into the skin.
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The taste and smell of corrupted blood overwhelmed his senses for a second, but he felt the creature gasp—more in surprise than pain. But that would soon follow.

As the creature jerked its head upward and shoved it down to smash him against the ground, his right hand tightened, the muscles squirming around the healed bones.

In a scarlet blur, he opened his mouth and plunged his sword through the bite marks he had just created. It tore into the steel-like muscle fibers, snatching a grunt from his adversary as the wind battered his ragged coat. But it was fine.

Using the firmly planted handle like a grip, he strained his arms against the pressure. The muscles in his shoulders and back screamed in protest. But he held on, his eye fixed on the rapidly approaching ground as he forced himself to spin before letting go. Propelled upward, he escaped the gruesome fate of being flattened to death and observed the creature.

BOOM

The creature's face shattered the ground, tremors rocking the temple before a blast of rubble slammed through its ancient columns. Without support, a dust cloud soared to the dark sky as the structure crumbled under the weight of its ceiling.

As a cacophony of noises reverberated, the creature's red eyes spun on its fleshy wings and locked onto his falling figure. Its voice dripped with amusement as it raised its head again.

"What a delightful little pest you are. Do flail a bit longer—I find your desperation most exquisite."

Adam saw its eyes narrow as the tentacle-like strands of hair on its neck writhed around the closing wound.

However, more blood dripped down as an unnatural force slowed the recovery. The creature had missed it earlier because it had delayed the healing, but now its towering fingers trembled, and the unholy aureole hovering above its head spun.

"What is this blade? This power feels... familiar." Its hand moved to grip the scarlet toothpick embedded in its neck. However, it snorted when it faded and reappeared in Adam's hand as he hit the ground by the brazier.

Uninterested in the blabbering, his heel struck the caved-in rocks as he charged forward. Although his blade reduced healing, the effect would only last five seconds.

Against such a massive creature, he needed to kill it in a single strike—not realistic with their power difference—or use his size to dig into its body until he reached a vital organ. He shook his head. It was unnecessary—weren't the two eyes embedded in its wings perfect targets?

With this plan in mind, he altered his charge to circle the creature, noticing how it raised its palms at shoulder level and laughed. Its fingers brightened, orange flames emerging in sizzling tendrils.

He frowned at the sluggish patterns they traced in the air. They were so slow that he questioned their uses and slowed down to prepare for the worst. And, as expected, they were anything but ordinary.

He threw himself aside, the icy ground cooling his muscles as a tendril cut through the air like a blazing ray.

WHOOSH

The air distorted, vapor rising in a semicircle on its trail before it crashed into the buildings behind. Rocks melted and collapsed, an icy shudder running down his spine. How could something accelerate so much in the blink of an eye?

Now on guard, he pushed against the ground, propelling himself up in a handstand—a split second before another tendril pierced him.

Unaffected by the melted hole beside him, he shoved himself forward, spinning upright before he landed on his feet and immediately charged.

More tendrils shot at him without warning, their scalding orange glows brightening the darkness. His back bent backwards as he slid under the first. His limbs contorted, the heat brushing his skin as he evaded two others. Then, he danced in their midst, spinning and flipping in narrow dodges.

Each step of this macabre dance brought him closer to the creature, but the attacks also multiplied. From ten, they became twenty, then fifty, then five hundred, all accompanied by guttural laughter and taunts.

"I wonder how many more you can evade. Let us discover it together, shall we?"

Almost overwhelmed, his eye narrowed as he dodged another beam, and his grip tightened on his blade. How many more? The answer was clear: none. He couldn't even take a step forward anymore.

Was it still fine? The question flashed in his mind, forcing a heavy sigh out of his lips as tendrils blazed around him in an inescapable net. Even the scabbard couldn't mend a vaporised body, so his death was as good as written in stone.

However, his next words caused the creature's head to move up slightly and its empty eye sockets to widen.

"Time to get serious."

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AN: I'll take a day off tomorrow. Happy New Year everyone!"