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{Chapter: 250: The Library's Inner Battlefield — Shattered Knowledge Sanctum}
Even the other two demons present showed no remorse. They too were seekers of knowledge, but not for its beauty or preservation. They hunted secrets, powerful truths, not petty lessons meant for children and peasants. If it wasn't a soul-binding spell or a forbidden summoning ritual, it wasn't worth their time.
And unlike Dex, who could glance at a tome and mentally absorb it within seconds, they lacked such talents. So they ignored the ruins of knowledge and let the fire eat the rest.
Dex, looming behind them like a demonic god of flame, spared the slaughtered mortals only a brief glance. His burning eyes showed neither approval nor disdain. It was simply beneath his concern.
He was waiting.
And then came the warning.
Another demon nearby suddenly tensed and snarled, "Get ready. We're under attack."
The words had barely left his mouth when the walls exploded.
From beyond the first floor's upper levels—through enchanted stone and reinforced alloy—dozens of glowing magic projectiles tore through the structure like cannon fire. Each was the size of a man's head, blazing with destructive spells, hurtling toward the demons with streaks of arcane light and compressed air behind them.
"Whistling death."
That's what they were called. And they were aptly named.
Each bolt contained condensed energy strong enough to obliterate a siege golem.
Dex didn't move a muscle.
But his four obsidian wings flared out behind him, glowing runes etched in infernal language pulsing to life.
With a series of violent slashes, he intercepted every magic bolt. His wings moved like black guillotine blades, slicing through each projectile with surgical precision, severing their energy cores mid-flight.
Instead of detonating, the projectiles fizzled into bursts of harmless static. The floor beneath him cracked under the magical backlash, but the damage was contained.
The other demons? Far less elegant.
One roared, summoned an abyssal barrier of bone, and charged through the barrage with brute force, fists swinging. Magic missiles exploded against him like fireworks. His skin cracked. His blood hissed against the air. But he laughed.
Another demon cast a reverse feedback sigil, redirecting half of the incoming missiles upward. The ceiling collapsed in a rain of rubble and molten bricks, but he didn't flinch as debris crashed around him.
In that instant, the library's first floor became a furnace of shattered architecture, raw energy, and body parts flying like shrapnel.
Desks turned to splinters. Glass domes cracked and burst. Pillars collapsed. Fire and dust swallowed everything.
Then, as the smoke began to thin, a new presence appeared.
It came not with a scream, but with a silence so sharp it was deafening.
A subtle spatial ripple passed through the air like a scalpel. A silent shimmer—like water folding into itself—slid through the smoke toward Dex's position.
A hidden assassin.
He was wrapped in stealth magic, gliding through reality's seams with perfect control. He emerged from the cracks between seconds—his blade already drawn, gleaming with divine silver—and headed directly for Dex.
But halfway there, he stopped cold.
Dex… was smiling.
Not with rage. Not with mockery. But with interest.
And the assassin, despite his training, froze.
Something primal screamed within his mind.
The look in Dex's eyes was not of prey. It was the look a beast gives a hunter who has wandered too far into its den.
Terror flooded the assassin's thoughts, and his instincts screamed. He changed direction in a heartbeat and redirected his attack toward the nearest target—a [Middle-Rank Demon] still distracted by casting spells.
CRACK!
The assassin's blade cut cleanly across the demon's head, leaving a gaping gash along his forehead. Blood gushed, dark purple and steaming. Had the demon not leaned back at the last moment, his skull would've been cleaved in two.
Still smiling, the wounded demon hissed, his eyes bloodshot.
Without a word, he leaned forward and spat a stream of purple mist, a cursed gas forged in the lowest pits of the Abyss. It sizzled mid-air, corroding everything it touched—stone, magic, flesh.
The assassin disappeared into the mist with a flicker of light, vanishing back into the veil of space, coughing violently as his invisibility wavered.
All around the demons, the tension thickened.
They weren't alone anymore.
They could feel it.
Magic signatures. Power levels. Movements. Killing intent.
Dozens of them.
"...They're here," one of the demons muttered.
Dex's molten eyes narrowed. His senses sharpened. His instincts flared.
'Five demigods… twelve legendary-ranked professionals…'
He didn't even bother counting the hundreds of elites and lower-ranked professionals moving into formation outside the library. They didn't matter.
Only the strong ones did.
For now.
One of the demons cracked his neck and snorted. "So what? Let them come. Whoever dies just wasn't strong enough."
No battle plans. No strategies.
Just the unshakable arrogance of demons who had never been afraid of true fear.
Dex nodded with a dark grin.
"Well said," he replied. "But I'll go first. The one assigned to me... has an interesting look in his eyes."
He could already sense the opponent who had chosen him.
Their gazes had locked once in the distance—just for a heartbeat—but it had been enough. Dex's infernal senses warned him: this was no ordinary foe.
A worthy opponent.
Not a fatal threat.
But dangerous.
That made it fun.
With a mighty heave of his wings, Dex launched himself into the air, shattering the remains of the library's ceiling as he burst upward like a missile, trailing fire and molten stone.
The air cracked, the roof imploded, and columns toppled as he shot into the open sky.
Above the burning city, as his massive form soared, Dex roared:
"WHOEVER YOU ARE… COME AND SHOW ME WHY YOU DARED TO CHOOSE ME!"
And far above, cloaked in wind and light, his opponent stood waiting.
---
Inside the Upper Levels of the Kafira Library – The Inner Sanctum
The corridors leading up to this floor were no ordinary structures. They had been forged with a hundred enchantments, sealing rituals, and materials not found in the mortal world—a labyrinth of protection that had kept divine relics and forbidden knowledge safe for centuries.
Each layer of wall bore multiple barrier inscriptions, inscribed by ancient hands, laced with [anti-demon matrices] and [dimensional anchors] meant to resist teleportation and abyssal magic. Any mortal attacker would have been slowed, drained, confused, or vaporized within moments.
Even [Legendary] professionals, wielders of artifacts and titles, would require hours with specialized chiseling spells and arcanite drills to breach just one layer.
But Dex?
He came like the wrath of a dying star.
---
A thunderclap shattered the silence.
A red streak, burning hotter than a comet, screamed through the defenses. Dex moved at hypersonic velocity, a molten blur wreathed in flame and screaming winds. Every flap of his four infernal wings shattered magical locks, every beat tearing chunks of enchanted stone and magic alloy apart like wet paper.
Magical defense walls meant to delay Legendary powers?
Dex vaporized them.
Holy wards blessed by ancient Demigods?
Shattered in one pass.
Even the ceiling of the inner sanctum, made from a single slab of fused abyssal obsidian, fractured as he passed through, leaving molten trails in the air behind him.
In just twelve seconds, he obliterated sixteen defense layers, crossed over four reinforced magical fields, bypassed dimensional anchors, and arrived before his target with enough velocity to collapse a fortress.
His impact blew the sealing to the archive off their hinges, the sonic pressure alone rupturing nearby walls. He didn't even touch the floor—just the shockwave of his arrival created a cyclonic burst, launching furniture, bookcases, weapons, and people through the air like leaves in a tornado.
Dozens of professionals, many [Advanced] and even [Master]-rank, were thrown backward like dolls—smashed against walls, pillars, and each other.
Some were decapitated mid-flight by shattered glass, others had limbs crushed by falling debris or pierced by enchanted quills turned into projectiles by the sheer violence of the air pressure.
One mage tried to raise a shield—too slow. A stray chunk of steel embedded in his skull. His eyes burst from his sockets before he hit the floor.
Carnage. Instantaneous.
---
Dex hovered, wings spread wide like blades of black sunfire.
Behind him trailed smoke, flame, and torn limbs. The heat distorted the air, giving him a nightmarish blur. Even his shadow writhed unnaturally, like it wanted to devour the light.
He hadn't even attacked yet.
But his presence had already killed thirty-four professionals.
He looked around.
Pillars were cracked. Enchanted chandeliers were melting. Screams echoed beneath the thunderous roar of still-settling rubble.
The [Demigod Mage] stepped forward.
He was tall, draped in robes etched with living glyphs. His skin was purple-brown, textured like dried clay. His eyes glowed with a quiet intelligence—not rage, not fear. He moved calmly, lifting a hand to summon a spherical golden barrier, which shielded the remaining survivors.
"Boom boom boom!!!"
Burning debris from Dex's arrival slammed into the shield like a meteor storm. Flaming stone. Twisting shrapnel. Pieces of crushed demon-forged steel.
Every impact lit up the barrier like a lightning storm trapped inside a bubble.
The younger professionals behind the mage trembled, watching flames crawl across the magical dome as it flickered.
Some whispered prayers. Others just stared, pale and shaking.
Had the barrier not been cast instantly, half of them would already be charred bones.
But the demigod didn't flinch.
He watched Dex with calm calculation.
Dex noticed this.
He glanced at the remains of burned scrolls and shattered bookshelves before asking with a casual smile, "Did you move all the books? Don't tell me you burned them."
The mage replied, voice steady, laced with contempt.
"They're gone. Hidden where your filth won't reach. You might have pierced our defenses, but you won't touch the legacy of the Kafira Library."
Dex tilted his head, mildly amused. "So long as they're not destroyed, I don't care."
He began to raise his hand—
But didn't finish.