The Seven Demon's Tamer

Chapter 132: At The Last Moment


***"CHANGE OF PLANS! WE HAVE TO RETREAT!"***

A voice roared across the battlefield with such desperate urgency that it cut through even the overwhelming presence of Draki's gathered power. The sound carried for miles, reaching Draki with crystal clarity.

Just as Draki was about to unleash the accumulated energy that would have reduced Mikasa and Akira to history, a loud voice resonated throughout the clear, silent expanse of the wasteland that was once the Red Eastern Guild base.

It was unmistakably Valachi's voice, but transformed by terror into something barely recognizable. The arrogant confidence that had defined Valachi was completely gone, replaced by raw fear that made his words crack.

Valachi wasn't just calling for a tactical withdrawal or something along those lines—he was screaming for them to run for their lives, to abandon all their dignity in favor of immediate survival.

Akira and Mikasa, frozen as they were, weren't able to detect the subtleties of the sound. Their paralyzed state had dulled their enhanced senses, making it impossible for them to process anything beyond the most basic, clear information.

Even in her transformed state, Mikasa couldn't hear the desperation in Valachi's tone or even the words he uttered.

In fact, that was the least of her concern. Even her heartbeat and breathing had been paused — a normal human would have died, but they managed to resist, all thanks to their transformed state.

However, they wouldn't last too long in such a state — not that they expected to last long, after all, Draki was about to kill them.

The energy that had been converging to his palms from the surrounding air—the massive accumulation of power that he had been preparing and was about to use to execute Mikasa and Akira—dissipated into nothing instantly.

Draki could hear it all with perfect clarity, unlike Akira and Mikasa. He could hear the desperation in Valachi's voice, the kind of raw terror that could only come from facing something truly overwhelming.

It was something he wouldn't even have imagined possible—Valachi, one of the most arrogant and seemingly fearless creatures in the Astral Shadow Plane among all of them that had descended from the portal, reduced to screaming warnings with the fear of someone who had seen death incarnate.

"I guess I won't be doing more than this," Draki spoke, his voice carrying none of the satisfaction that had been present just moments before.

The casual confidence had been replaced by something resembling genuine concern, though he was far too stoic to show it on his face.

"This is where we bid farewell."

As he spoke these words, the gamma energy that had been enforcing his Cursed Speech began to fade.

The affinity that had been keeping them immobilized, the cursed speech that had turned them into living statues, released its hold on their forms gradually.

They both collapsed to the ground weakly, their legs unable to support their weight after the experience of complete paralysis. Their muscles, which had been locked in position for what felt like an eternity, began cramping as blood flow returned to normal.

Gasping for breath, they discovered that they weren't able to inhale properly at first. Their systems had been completely shut down by the cursed speech; their lungs had forgotten how to process air automatically.

Mikasa's hands shook uncontrollably as she tried to push herself up from the ground, her fingers leaving visible indentations in the scorched earth.

Akira wasn't faring any better. Her senses were still flickering in and out of focus, creating a disorienting effect that made it difficult to tell distances or positions accurately.

Without any more words exchanged, Draki began to move. But instead of the casual, predatory pace he had maintained throughout their encounter, his movements now carried genuine urgency.

He zoomed off like a flash, his massive form blurring into motion with the kind of supernatural quickness that had made him such a nightmare opponent throughout their battle.

"Where the hell do you think you are going!" Mikasa screamed, her voice raw and hoarse from the trauma she had just experienced.

As she spoke, she poured all the energy she could muster into manifesting a crystal spear that materialized in her palms.

The weapon was crude compared to her earlier formations, its surface rough and unpolished, but it pulsed with concentrated gamma energy that made the air around it distorted.

The spear was more than just a weapon—it was a physical manifestation of her refusal to accept defeat, her urge to strike back against the creature that had humiliated them so thoroughly despite already reaching her limit.

Every ounce of her remaining strength, every fragment of her gamma energy which had been empty but somehow miraculously appeared and got channeled out, was infused into the crystalline weapon.

"Get the hell back here!" Mikasa thrust the spear, glowing with gamma energy, with all her might at the retreating Draki.

The weapon left her hands with tremendous force, sending it slicing through the air at unimaginable speed, moving so fast that it created a visible trail of superheated air as it coursed forward.

The spear streaked across the battlefield like a bolt of lightning, covering the distance to Draki in less than a heartbeat.

For a moment, it seemed like her final desperate attack might actually succeed, might catch the arrogant beast off guard and deliver the kind of devastating blow that could change the course of their encounter.

*Clang!*

Just when it felt like the spear would collide with Draki's head, the black-marked beast demonstrated once again why he was superior.

Without breaking stride, without even slowing his retreat, Draki halted his forward motion, turned around, and deflected the thrust with a single punch, all done in one swift, fluid motion.

The sound of his knuckles meeting the gamma-infused crystal spear right at the tip was like a bell being struck, the resonance carrying across the battlefield so that it seemed to echo from the devastated landscape itself.

But surprisingly—or perhaps unsurprisingly, given the desperate strength that Mikasa had poured into the attack—the spear that had been deflected didn't simply shatter against his scales as her previous attacks had done.

Instead, the crystalline weapon managed to create a shallow wound across his knuckles, drawing a thin line of dark blood that began to drip slowly to the ground below.

It was barely more than a scratch, hardly worthy of being referred to as an injury when applied to a creature of his caliber. But it was something—the first real damage that either Mikasa or Akira had managed to inflict throughout their entire desperate battle.

"Get back here!" Mikasa screamed in anger, her voice carrying across the wasteland with renewed strength. "I'm not done with you."

But even as the words left her mouth, she knew she had made a terrible mistake.

Akira quickly ran to her and grabbed her in restraint, understanding the danger before Mikasa could fully process what she had done.

"Mikasa! Please stop!" she shouted urgently, trying to hold her friend back from any further provocative actions.

"We don't stand a chance," Akira continued, her words carrying the painful truth. "Don't give him a reason to come back!"

Unfortunately, the words that Mikasa had screamed had managed to reach Draki and sink pretty deep into him. Despite the urgency of Valachi's call, despite whatever threat had motivated their retreat, her challenge had struck quite heavily.

Draki, who had been retreating, turned his head slowly, glaring back at them with an expression that made their earlier terror seem like child's play in comparison.

The wound on his knuckles—that tiny, insignificant scratch that had given Mikasa such satisfaction—was already beginning to heal, the dark blood clotting and the flesh mending itself back together as fast as the wound had appeared in the first place.

"No no no no no!" Akira panicked, her voice rising with fear as she realized what Mikasa's outburst had accomplished. Even Mikasa gasped, understanding finally dawning on her as the full implications of her actions became clear.

She had screwed up, big time.

The killing intent radiating from Draki was so intense that it seemed to have physical weight, pressing down on them. His eyes were now fixed on them with laser focus.

For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, they balanced between life and death, their chances of survival depending on Draki's decision. Would his pride demand that he return to finish what he had started, or would the urgency of Valachi's call influence him?

Fortunately for them, the killing intent disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, the fire in his eyes turning into annoyance. Valachi's urgent call had apparently carried more weight over him than his wounded pride.

Without another word, without even a parting taunt or threat, he continued his retreat across the battlefield, his massive form disappearing into the distance.

***

Meanwhile, across the devastated landscape, Valachi's desperate attempt to escape from Ryder had been filled with the feeling of complete futility.

No matter how fast he moved, no matter what maneuvers he attempted, he still wasn't managing to get away from the young man who had become something beyond human comprehension.

The most terrifying aspect of his pursuit wasn't Ryder's speed, but rather the casual, unhurried pace with which he maintained perfect distance between them.

Ryder was literally walking to catch up with him while Valachi pushed his body to its absolute limits, spilling his own blood with each desperate leap until they healed.

Each time Valachi thought he had gained enough distance to breathe, to rest, to formulate some kind of plan for escape or counterattack, he would look back to find Ryder still there, still maintaining that terrifying casual pace, still radiating an aura of power that made the very air around him feel thick and oppressive.

It was like being chased by death incarnate—an inevitable force that couldn't be outrun. The young man who had once seemed so ordinary had become something that even creatures from the Astral Shadow Plane found genuinely terrifying.

However, after countless failed attempts at escaping from Ryder, Valachi finally decided to infuse gamma energy directly into his feet, enhancing his single remaining leg with explosive power that went far beyond his natural capabilities.

The technique was dangerous—channeling that much raw energy through a single limb could easily result in the complete destruction of the body part. But desperation had driven him beyond concerns of personal safety.

He could choose between dying or taking the risk of shattering a limb that would heal in some seconds.

Finally, he mustered enough force to blast himself far enough to break free from the immediate surrounding of Ryder's oppressive presence.

So far that he could no longer feel Ryder's aura as suffocating as it had been, no longer sense those casual footsteps maintaining perfect pace behind him.

His body coursed through the air with tremendous force, covering miles of devastated landscape in seconds as he aimed for the battlefield where he knew the double-headed dragon was engaged in combat.

The plan was simple—regroup with his most powerful ally, and escape this nightmare scenario before Ryder could close the distance again.

He arrived at the battlefield just as the impossible had happened, just as reality delivered another devastating blow to his understanding of what humans should be capable of.

He saw a red bright light, definitely the flame of the double-headed dragon, engulfing just after it had burned off whatever it wanted to.

What should have been two magnificent heads, each capable of breathing destruction that could level cities, had been brutally decapitated.

With a tremendous thud that shook the ground for miles around, the massive corpse that had just been killed crashed to the ground.

Valachi had not been fast enough to witness the whole moment of death; he only saw the aftermath, only witnessed the last moment before its aura flickered out of existence.

Above the crater, clearly responsible for the impossible victory, were two figures. One of them was unconscious, his human form sprawled on the ground in clear exhaustion.

The other stood in good condition, apparently unharmed by whatever incredible battle had just concluded, and there was no doubt in Valachi's mind that these two humans were responsible for the double-headed dragon's death.

However, avenging the death of his fallen comrade was the least of Valachi's worries at this moment. Ryder's presence was closing in drastically, that oppressive aura growing stronger with each passing second despite the distance he had managed to gain through the desperate move he pulled.

At that exact moment, as if summoned by his need for allies, something else suddenly arrived at the battlefield, materializing right beside Valachi with the kind of speed that spoke of genuine urgency.

Luckily for Valachi, it was Draki.

Draki's eyes widened as he stared at the massive corpse that had already begun to disintegrate into particles, the supernatural flesh breaking down into component energy that would eventually join the energy in the air.

The sight of their companion's death clearly shook him.

"You arrived just in time," Valachi's tone was gentle as he spoke, though underlaid with the kind of urgency that came from knowing death was approaching rapidly. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Yeah," Draki responded after a moment of hesitation. The situation had moved beyond the point where anything else, other than survival, mattered. Survival was the only consideration that counted.

Both creatures began activating the resignation technique simultaneously, the technique that would allow them to return to the Astral Shadow Plane with or without completing their original mission.

It was a technique that in order to activate, all the creatures that had been summoned out from a particular portal must regroup and activate together.

This was the exact reason why Valachi was alerting them for a retreat. The fact that the dragon was dead now left only Valachi and Draki and made this even easier. But the cost of losing a comrade... didn't feel like it was worth it.

A sudden rush of aura began to burn around them like black flames, the energy visible to the naked eye as it prepared to tear open a link between planes of existence. The technique required several seconds to reach completion, several seconds during which they would be vulnerable to attack or interference.

"And where might you think you are going?" a voice spoke from directly behind them, the tone carrying deadly curiosity.

It was Ryomen, his claws slowly extending from his knuckles like gauntlets.

Valachi's eyes turned slightly to the side to look at the approaching threat, and without hesitation, without any attempt at negotiation, he slammed his remaining fist against Ryomen with all the force he could muster.

*Wham!*

The impact was tremendous. So tremendous that Ryomen's body was sent coursing through the air like a ragdoll, his skeletal form tumbling end over end as bones cracked and ribs shattered before it finally came to rest on the ground.

But even as his broken body flew through the air, even as fragments of his ribs scattered, Ryomen's expression showed not pain or fear, but satisfaction.

He had already activated his Death's Embrace technique just before approaching the two black-marked beasts, ensuring that the attack would be stored perfectly, ready to be returned after delivery.

His bones had already begun to reform even as he struck the ground, the supernatural resilience of his undead nature allowing him to recover from damage that would have killed any normal fighter instantly.

Within seconds, he was getting back to his feet properly, his skeletal frame reassembling itself with precision to all body parts.

Taking a sprinting stance, he readied his fist, the bones crackling with stored energy that had been perfectly preserved from Valachi's attack.

"Let's see how you handle a taste of your very own power," he declared, his hollow voice carrying across the battlefield with menace.

*Swoosh!*

His body coursed through the air as he charged, covering the distance between them with explosive speed, ready to unleash the stored power directly into Valachi's face.

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"

But even as he closed the final distance, even as victory seemed within his grasp, Valachi spoke with calmness.

"It's already too late."

Right before impact, just as Ryomen's stored attack was about to connect with devastating force, both Valachi and Draki vanished.

The resignation technique had reached completion at the last possible moment, instantly teleporting them without the need of a portal.

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