If it had been one or two of them, Hatch could have ended the encounter quickly.
That much was clear the moment steel and condensed ki met. The martial artist before him was strong, far stronger than the gnolls littering the battlefield, but still within a margin Hatch could overwhelm. The demon's axe carved through reinforced flesh, and his body could withstand repeated ki infused blows without slowing.
But the problem was not one.
It was six.
Corvus saw it from above.
The first martial artist stepped back, signaling with two fingers. From the shadows of broken buildings and the treeline beyond, five more emerged. Each radiated the same oppressive pressure, internal energy circulating through their meridians like molten iron. They spread out instinctively, forming a loose semicircle around Hatch.
These were not ordinary clan disciples.
"These are elites," Corvus muttered.
Their movements were calm. Calculated. No wasted steps, no panic. One of them cracked his neck as if preparing for a sparring match rather than a battlefield. Another rolled his shoulders, crimson markings glowing faintly beneath his skin.
Corvus descended just enough to be seen.
"Hatch," he said sharply. "More incoming."
Hatch's grin faded.
"I noticed," he replied.
The martial artist at the center stepped forward again, eyes burning with restrained excitement.
"You are demonic," he said. "But not aligned with the Blood Demon."
Hatch spat onto the ground.
"I serve a master far above your false god," he said.
The man laughed.
"Then you will fall all the same."
The six moved at once.
Hatch roared, swinging his axe in a wide arc. The nearest martial artist leapt back, feet barely touching the ground as ki propelled him away. Another struck from the side, his palm glowing red as it slammed into Hatch's ribs. The blow landed with explosive force, sending Hatch skidding across the dirt.
He dug his claws into the ground and stopped himself, chest heaving.
That one hurt.
They pressed in, rotating positions, striking in rhythm. Fists, kicks, elbows, each infused with internal energy that bypassed surface durability and rattled Hatch from within. His demonic resilience kept him standing, but the pressure mounted quickly.
Corvus flared his wings.
"This is not sustainable," he said.
Retreat was not an option. The martial artists had positioned themselves to cut off escape routes. Gnolls lay dead or fleeing, leaving no distractions.
Corvus clicked his beak sharply.
"I am calling for backup."
The mental signal shot across their bond.
Aldwin received it instantly.
He had been reviewing patrol rotations when the sensation struck him like a blade against his thoughts. Danger. Pressure. Corvus's urgency bled through the connection.
Six elites.
No retreat.
Aldwin rose to his feet.
"Tobias," he said. "Mobilize the combatants. Full force."
The man did not hesitate. Orders were barked, armor clanged, weapons were grabbed. Survivors with offensive gifts formed up quickly, tension written across their faces.
Aldwin turned to Flambe.
"We ride," he said.
Flambe lowered himself without complaint. Aldwin mounted the salamander's broad back, gripping the scaled ridge as heat radiated beneath him. With a powerful leap, Flambe surged forward, fire trailing behind him as they cut through the ruined streets toward the western region.
Wind tore at Aldwin's robe as they moved.
Within him, Mulligan stirred.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Mulligan said, his voice calm but alert. "That internal energy. It is not mana, but it is close enough to interact with it."
Aldwin focused, eyes narrowing.
"They call themselves the Blood Demon's Claws," he said. "False demons."
Mulligan chuckled softly.
"If you let me embody you for a moment," he said, "I can introduce you to a few spells that bridge the gap. Mana shaped to disrupt internal circulation. It will be unpleasant for them."
Aldwin did not hesitate.
"Do it," he said.
The sensation was immediate.
Mulligan's presence surged forward, not overtaking Aldwin, but layering atop him. Knowledge flooded his mind. Spell frameworks. Mana compression techniques. Patterns designed to interfere rather than overwhelm.
Aldwin felt his mana respond eagerly, denser and more refined than it had ever been before.
They arrived to chaos.
Hatch was on one knee, axe planted into the ground as he forced himself upright. Blood, dark and thick, seeped from cracks in his armor. One martial artist lay dead nearby, skull crushed, but the remaining five closed in without pause.
Corvus darted overhead, launching cutting gusts of wind to disrupt their formation, but the martial artists adapted quickly.
Then the temperature dropped.
Water condensed in the air, mist swirling unnaturally fast.
The martial artists turned as one.
Aldwin dismounted Flambe and stepped forward.
The battlefield shifted the moment he arrived.
Mana pressure rolled outward, heavy and cold. The Tidecaller's Staff struck the ground, sending ripples through the pooled water beneath their feet.
"So," Aldwin said, voice steady. "These are the Blood Demon's Claws."
One of the martial artists sneered.
"You reek of stolen power," he said. "Another pretender."
Aldwin raised his staff.
Mana surged.
The first spell detonated beneath their feet. Not ice, not water, but a distortion. Mulligan's guidance shaped the mana into a resonance wave that interfered with ki circulation. The martial artists staggered as their internal energy stuttered, movements faltering for a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
Flambe exhaled a torrent of fire, forcing two of them apart. Hatch roared and surged forward, axe flashing as he cleaved into one whose ki reinforcement failed him.
Corvus descended, talons slicing across exposed throats.
Aldwin advanced, staff sweeping in controlled arcs. Water spears formed instantly, piercing through defenses weakened by disrupted ki. Each spell struck with precision, targeting joints, pressure points, internal pathways Mulligan had shown him.
The martial artists fought back fiercely.
One broke through, landing a blow against Aldwin's barrier that cracked it like glass. Another hurled a ki blade that sliced through stone and narrowly missed his head.
But the momentum had shifted.
"These are not demons," Aldwin said coldly. "They are men playing at it."
The last three attempted to regroup.
Aldwin raised his hand.
The water around them surged upward, compressing into a spiraling prison. Mana tightened, pressure increasing until bones cracked and ki collapsed inward.
Silence followed.
Bodies fell.
Aldwin lowered his hand, breath steady.
Hatch leaned on his axe, grinning through bloodied teeth.
"False demons," he said. "I like that."
Corvus landed beside Aldwin, wings folding.
"This was only a vanguard," he said.
Aldwin looked west, eyes hard.
"Then we have learned enough," he replied.
The clash was over.
The war had just begun.