Among the main objectives in Rygar's coming to the Demon Continent, the majority of them involved some of the many Demon Kings.
At present, there were about thirty of them, each ruling one of the provinces of the perilous demonic lands. And they all possessed a distinct and often strange characteristic.
They were a diverse and grotesque group.
There was the Plunderer Demon King Baglahagla, a glutton who resembled a pig with a man's body.
The Face Demon King Lynebyne, who was literally just a head, similar to the Moai statues.
Then, the Shining Demon King Patorsetor, with a body translucent like glass, always wrapped in a pure white cloak.
And the Inquisitor Demon King Ijrifragon, who, even decapitated and dismembered, remained alive — his limbs constantly floated around his main body.
They all had some way of standing out, even if not in a positive way.
In comparison, Verdia's friend, the Titan Demon King Gretta, seemed almost normal.
With her nearly three meters in height, muscular body and the presence of a Spartan warrior, she was almost an exception among the aberrations. Even being an alchemist behind the fearsome facade, she was still somewhat normal.
Anyway, the records of the Future Guide brought some information about ancient teleportation circles on the Demon Continent.
Even though Ezkalor could not use some of them due to his size, it still made his journey much faster.
He was probably among the fastest fliers of the entire Red Dragon race.
That was why, considering the pace and the stopping points, they did not expect to take more than two months on their travels — although that, of course, depended on what they would encounter along the way.
And one of their first stops would be to eliminate an especially vile Demon King, who would become a rather inconvenient problem in the near future.
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In the mountainous terrain of a certain province of the Demon Continent, a bizarre scene was unfolding.
A ball moved at very high speed, rolling and bouncing between the rocky gorges, in a hurried escape.
The sphere was about three meters in circumference. Its surface seemed made of flesh and rock at the same time, misshapen, cracked and pulsating. From the holes scattered across its body, a nauseating smell escaped, similar to vomit.
It moved, constantly deforming — parts of it flattened, stretched, or sank.
Suddenly, the ball twisted violently and leapt to the side, transforming for a brief instant into an elongated and grotesque form.
In the next instant, a flaming blast covered the spot where it had been moments before.
The fire fell like a tsunami, sweeping entire slopes, reducing rocks to magma and transforming the atmosphere into a scorching hell.
From the clouds of fire and dust, a scaly beast emerged with a deafening roar.
"GROOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
The sound reverberated for kilometers. The Red Dragon Ezkalor landed, causing destruction.
His wings opened menacingly, the heat emanating from his body distorted the air, and his claws left trails of melted rock.
He roared again.
Then, a voice echoed — distorted, grotesque and hungry — coming from inside the ball of flesh:
"Gugululu! Insolent lizard! I am the Vile Demon King Qeblaqabla! A mere pet dares to bare its fangs before me!?"
As the voice reverberated, the holes in the creature's body released a fetid, viscous mist, which spread like miasma.
In an instant, the many holes of the ball began to suck in everything around it — fire, molten stones, dust, fragments of magma.
The sound of suction was grotesque.
Ezkalor did not recoil before the threatening Demon King.
He advanced through the mountains like a moving titan, cracking the ground beneath his feet.
But Qeblaqabla, the Vile Demon King, was not common prey.
His body pulsed grotesquely, swelling and deforming as it absorbed the fire and earth.
In a matter of seconds, the monstrous sphere grew until it reached the size of a house, and then extended into a gigantic claw-shaped form, made of black flesh.
The Demon Claw descended violently against the dragon's neck, faster than he could react.
"GURAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
Ezkalor roared in pain as the claw crushed his neck.
The ground around trembled with the impact, heaps collapsed while the Dragon struggled against the grip of the Demon Claw.
The pressure of the claw was such that even the impenetrable scales of a Red Dragon cracked under that infernal power.
But, before the demonic flesh could crush his throat completely —
A second voice rang out.
"Lightning!"
The dark sky flashed momentarily.
And then, a devastating lightning bolt fell, striking the demon arm squarely.
The sound was deafening — an electrical explosion mixed with a shockwave that swept the entire valley.
The black arm exploded, cracking and disintegrating into rotten fragments, accompanied by a guttural roar.
"UUUUUUOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The sound of thunder continued to echo, repeating across the slopes to the horizon.
In the midst of the devastation, Ezkalor roared again, free from the grip, his gaze turned to the shadow that was reforming before him.
The smell of burnt flesh hung in the air.
The caster of the Lightning was none other than Verdia, who ran through the mountains like a cheetah. The cold wind of the heights made her golden hair, tied in a ponytail, whip through the air.
She was dressed in light leather clothes, her magic cloak, which fluttered behind her as she leaped between the rocks, and her best staff in her hands.
With a single impulse, she leapt to reach a particularly high peak, from where she had a wide view of the entire battlefield.
There she positioned herself again to cast.
Verdia did not care about the Demon King's screams of agony, and would not interrupt her magical barrage again, since this demon was so slippery.
The sky began to distort again, clouds spinning violently as a Hurricane formed at the point of impact of the lightning.
This proved to be a wise decision, for the misshapen mass of flesh and rock, the body of the Demon King Qeblaqabla, burst out of the wreckage like a cannonball, trying to flee desperately.
Ezkalor, the Red Dragon, roared fiercely, trying to keep up with the escape, but the Demon King's run was erratic and unpredictable — each jump and deformation of his body enabled him to advance through the mountains with monstrous speed.
Qeblaqabla tried to escape by deforming his legs into tentacles and blades to propel himself, but before he could get too far, the Hurricane summoned by Verdia pulled him violently to the center of the gale.
The wind, her most powerful magical affinity, responded to the elf's command with violence.
In seconds, the air current gathered around the Demon King, lifting him from the ground and hoisting him into the air by force.
He roared in anger, his grotesque body twisting and deforming in an attempt to claw at something.
"Accursed witch!" the guttural voice echoed again. "I'll make Gretta pay for this later! My post as Demon King will not be taken so easily!"
The Vile Demon King was one of the most fearsome creatures among his peers, a being of corrupt and vile nature.
His capacity for adaptation and the abnormal abilities of his race made him a repulsive and unpredictable opponent.
Vile, arrogant and proud as he was, he would never admit his weakness — but he knew he could not beat Verdia in direct combat, especially with the relentless dragon at her side.
After all, it had been that same damned elf who had ambushed him while he was hunting a Wolf Drake, and even when facing her alone, the elf forced him to retreat to save his life.
Verdia, unshakable, did not respond to the provocations. Her face remained calm, and only a slight confident smile formed on her lips.
The Hurricane tore the demon's flesh, ripping layers of muscles and rock.
Still, Qeblaqabla resisted; he deformed and sank into the ground, escaping beneath the rocks and trying to flee through the bowels of the mountain.
Verdia did not slow her pace in the pursuit.
Blades of wind, bolts of lightning and spikes of earth rained down over the area.
Ezkalor also incinerated everything around, relentlessly pursuing the enemy.
The battlefield was completely reshaped — craters, fissures and mounds of melted rock sprang up everywhere — as the Demon King fought for his life, being massacred by his two hunters.
They continued their pursuit until they finally finished off their target.
Verdia killed him with her bow; an arrow made of lightning condensed on the bowstring, emitting a sharp, electrifying buzz.
She fired with precision, and the projectile pierced Qeblaqabla's core in a straight line.
The body of the Vile Demon King convulsed for a moment, emitting a scream of shock, before collapsing completely, finally dead.
Verdia watched for a few seconds, ensuring the death. Then, she let out a long, relieved sigh.
"Phew... he almost escaped..." she murmured, wiping the sweat from her brow. "I almost ran out of mana too..."
Ezkalor went to the corpse and picked up the demon's deformed body, carrying it carefully to where Verdia was. The elf smiled and said in a gentle tone:
"You did very well, Ezkalor. Come, let me heal your wounds."
She then pulled a small bluish glass bottle from her bag — a Mana Potion, developed from the records left by the Future Guide.
For Verdia, it was priceless; for someone like Rygar, it would not have much effect.
As he drank the potion, Ezkalor lowered himself before her, bending his injured neck to receive the treatment.
About two minutes passed before a figure appeared in the sky, descending slowly.
It was Rygar, carrying what seemed to be a stone slab full of inscriptions.
When Verdia saw him, her shoulders relaxed and a bright smile lit her face.
"Rygar!" she called, waving slightly. "Here is his body! But his abilities are very strange... is he really dead?"
Rygar landed softly on the devastated ground. After confirming with a glance that Verdia was all right, he turned to the grotesque corpse of Qeblaqabla, observing it in silence.
He swept the battlefield with his senses. The wind carried the smell of burnt flesh and melted rock.
With the strength he currently possessed — whether the natural strength of his body or his mastery of his Touki — it was fair to say that Qeblaqabla would never be able to escape, if Rygar truly wanted to find him.
The ground was covered with craters, smoking trenches and fragments of the Demon King's body scattered everywhere.
But, despite the evident destruction, there was no sign of escape. His Demon Eyes also detected nothing unusual in the corpse.
Everything indicated that he had been annihilated completely.
Rygar smiled slightly upon confirming.
"He is dead..." he murmured, approaching Verdia.
"Who would have thought you'd kill him so decisively before I arrived. I was expecting to arrive and watch the fight without interfering... you've gotten much stronger."
Verdia was alone this time because the Vile Demon King was not in his castle when the group had arrived to "greet" him.
To save time, they decided to split into three groups: Skoll and Eris, Ezkalor and Verdia, and Rygar alone.
Eris and Verdia would be hunting Qeblaqabla, while Rygar would venture into the depths of the castle to search for a material that would be needed for future versions of his armor.
By chance, the Vile Demon King Qeblaqabla had been hunting in the direction where Verdia had gone to search.
Upon hearing the praise, Verdia smiled proudly. Rygar approached and gave her a kiss, which she reciprocated lovingly.
Rygar was genuinely surprised; Verdia's strength really was beyond what he expected.
But, as he looked at her and reflected for a moment, he realized that perhaps it was a matter of perspective.
Chantless magic had never been an option for Verdia — and she had never needed it to be a renowned mage.
During five hundred years of battles, all her experience had been concentrated on using her weapons and spells as efficiently as possible, always seeking to defeat her opponents by exploiting their weak points.
Rygar followed a somewhat different path. He relied on his strength, power and speed to overpower his opponents.
Not that he did not need battle strategies to win, but he would rarely need a very refined strategy; his way of fighting had always been to overpower the enemy directly.
Verdia was exactly the opposite, so it was somewhat expected that, with such a powerful tool as chantless magic, her offensive power and tactical control would have such a great leap.
After some time, they left there together.
Their next objective would be a bit more complicated; she was well known on the Demon Continent as one of its most powerful generals.
The Immortal Demon King, Atoferatofe.
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