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Damien drifted across the rooftops of the Pleasure Quarter like a shadow tasting the wind. Lantern-light bled into the alleys below, painting the streets in colors far too bright for the rot that lived here. His gaze followed Humbert, the waddling pile of greed wrapped in silk, flanked by guards and two of Ishtar's enforcers. They ushered him toward a lavish inn that rose above the district like a shrine to excess.
A presence landed beside him with feline grace.
"So… what's the plan?" Aisha murmured. Her eyes traced the golden windows of the inn. "That place is locked tight. Anything goes wrong in there and the entire Ishtar Familia will swarm."
"Then go to Mikoto," Damien answered. His voice was a quiet current, calm but heavy. "Find her and return to my home. Tell Hestia to prepare a hidden room for Haruhime. She'll be safe there, out of sight. As for these worms… leave that to me."
Aisha hesitated, then nodded and vanished between the rooftops.
Damien stepped forward and let darkness swallow him. His stealth skill coiled around his form until he was nothing but a ripple of night gliding across the tiles. He reached the roof of the inn, slipped down its spine, and listened.
A balcony door slid open. One of Ishtar's men stepped out, scanning the street.
From above, Damien fell.
Steel kissed flesh. The guard's eyes widened, but the blood had no time to speak. Shadows poured over the corpse like hungry ink, and a heartbeat later, the man rose again—silent, obedient, reborn.
Damien summoned Igris with a faint gesture. The knight melted out of darkness, took position, and bowed once. The new shadow followed suit from the opposite side.
The upper floor was quiet. Too quiet.
He slipped inside.
Below, the first floor bulged with guards—Ishtar's soldiers lounging with arrogant ease, Humbert's men stiff and disciplined. Damien studied them, sorting levels, threat, behavior, posture. Two of the fat man's guards pulsed with the confidence of Level Three adventurers. Ishtar's forces were weaker.
Then Damien saw him.
Tammuz Belili.
A name whispered like a bad taste on a blade.
Damien's expression cooled. Igris… you and the new one stay hidden. Alert me the moment anyone heads upstairs.
He moved toward the private room at the far end, quiet as settling dust. The door was locked, but that was meaningless. He slipped into the adjacent room, leaned out the window, and looked through the curtains.
Humbert stood naked, sweating through his own folds as he approached the bed.
Haruhime knelt there, trembling, her eyes dull as dying embers.
"Come here now, baby," Humbert crooned. "I paid five million valis for you. I'm gonna use every inch of what I bought."
His laugh was a wet, ugly thing.
"Take them off. Now. Let me see what my money bought."
Haruhime forced a nod. "Yes… sir. Please be gentle."
Her voice was the voice of someone who already abandoned the idea of tomorrow.
She slid her top off. Her hands shook. Her heartbeat was loud enough that Damien felt it through the window frame.
But before the weight of despair could crush her again, a shadow fell behind Humbert.
A sword burst through his back, erupted from his stomach, then carved sideways in a brutal arc. His scream tore through the room like a dying animal.
"AGHHHH! AGHHH—WHY—"
Steel sank into his throat before the question could finish.
Haruhime gasped, staring at the hooded figure. Deep black clothes. Mask of shadow. A presence like an ancient storm.
"Haruhime Sanjouno," he said.
She nodded shakily. "Y-yes… good sir…"
"Dress," Damien said, already turning away out of respect. "I'm here to take you away from this. Quickly."
She pulled her top on with trembling fingers. "Good sir… I'm a prostitute. I don't deserve to be saved."
Damien let out a quiet sigh. It carried centuries of weariness. "They have broken you badly. I am a friend of Mikoto. And you are not a prostitute. You are a person who was trapped. Nothing more. Now move. Before we lose time."
A sharp knock crashed against the door.
"Humbert sir? I heard noise… are you all right?"
Damien didn't bother answering.
He thrust his sword through the wood. A wet choke answered him from the other side.
"Igris," he whispered, stepping back as shadows stirred at his feet. "Soldier. Attack."
...
Damien dropped from the upper floor like a falling star swallowed by night. His boots struck the railing, then the floorboards, splintering the wood under the weight of his momentum. Behind him, the three Minotaurs he had converted earlier rose around Haruhime, forming a silent phalanx of muscle and shadow on the balcony above.
Glass shattered.
Igris plunged through the window in a storm of broken shards, his fiery mantle roaring like a battlefield banner. His sword swept once, ripping through a guard's torso. The two infant dragons skittered out from under the tables, embers smoldering around their jaws, while the wolves surged forward with snarling hunger. The Silverback landed last, smashing a chair aside as it barreled into the nearest cluster of foes.
"Wha—WHAT ARE THESE THINGS?!""MONSTERS! ISHTAR FAMILIA, FORM UP!""THE DAMN ASSASSIN BROUGHT A PACK WITH HIM!"
Damien ignored the chaos. His blade found Temuz's in one instant, steel ringing through the room.
Temuz gritted his teeth, muscles corded, rage flaring through his eyes. "How dare you attack Ishtar Familia, you vile little assassin!"
Damien didn't reply. His silence was a blade of its own.
Temuz pushed back with surprising strength, sparks skidding between the two weapons. "You think you can hide behind that mask? You think you can take us alone?"
Damien moved first.
A low sweep. A quick step. The tempo of a predator.
Temuz parried, redirected, and retaliated in a rapid series of cuts. Damien blocked the first two, twisted from the third. The fourth grazed his shoulder, slicing cloth and drawing a thin line of blood.
"Tch. You bleed. Good. I'll drag you to Ishtar myself."
Around them the room became a storm.
A guard screamed as a wolf bit into his thigh, dragging him down while the infant dragons spat fire at retreating feet. The Silverback hurled a man across the room like a ragdoll. Igris tore through three adventurers in a blur of red steel and burning eyes, the new shadow soldier finishing those who tried to crawl away.
Still, Damien and Temuz remained locked in their own personal battlefield.
Temuz was faster than he looked, a veteran Level Four. His blade technique was orthodox but refined. Damien's borrowed sword felt stiff, unnatural in his hand. His body wanted The Daggers, to tear this man apart. But he swallowed the urge; revealing too much now would risk everything.
Temuz pressed forward with a flurry of strikes.
"FIGHT ME PROPERLY, COWARD!"
Damien deflected one blow, ducked another. Temuz's next thrust grazed his ribs, and Damien felt frustration coil in his gut. His stance tightened. His breath steadied.
Igris sensed it.
The knight broke from his massacre, blood dripping from his blade, and appeared at Damien's flank like a crimson phantom.
Temuz's eyes widened. "What—"
He never finished.
Damien feinted left.
Igris slashed from the right.
Temuz managed to block Damien's sword, but Igris's greatsword carved through his side, piercing his flesh. He staggered, choking on blood. Damien stepped in, grabbed Temuz by the hair, and drove his sword through the man's heart without a word.
Temuz Belili fell. The inn went quiet except for the last dying groans of the remaining guards.
Then
The front doors exploded.
The shockwave scattered tables and corpses alike. The Silverback stumbled back. The wolves flattened their ears. Even Igris raised his blade.
Ishtar Familia swept in like a crimson tide.
Samira and Lena fanned out first, weapons drawn, eyes darting around the corpse-strewn room.
"What in the hell happened here?!""Those are… shadows? What kind of magic is this?!"
Behind them strode a mountain dressed as a woman.
Phryne Jamil.
Her steps shook the floor. Her nostrils flared, inhaling the room like a beast scenting prey. Her eyes locked onto Damien, who stood silent, masked, and still dripping Temuz's blood.
She grinned, teeth glistening.
"…Pretty boy."
The word slithered out of her mouth like something obscene.
"I can smell it under all that cloth… soft skin… young… mmm. big dick too....Fucking you to death will be a pleasure of mine....."
Her tongue dragged across her lips.
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Sukuna in DC!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !