Upon receiving the shaman’s command, the four half-orcs—each the dedicated beastmaster of a chimera—each produced a handbell, shaking them with a crisp ringing as they gave harsh, guttural commands for attack!
One beastmaster, his head bloodied from an earlier raid, had no time for his wounds; all he cared for now was destroying these demons as quickly as possible.
The four massive chimera whirled in unison, bellowing as their powerful bodies lunged forward, barreling through the panicked satyrs to engage the Dretch at close quarters. Huge claws lashed down.
Though the Dretch, as demons, had tough, resistant hides that repelled most non-magical weapons, the chimeras’ tremendous muscle power and razor lion claws still ripped them open, cleaving deep bone-revealing wounds and gushing putrid green blood.
Simultaneously, their three heads attacked relentlessly—the lion biting, the goat ramming with its curled horns, raw strength cast about recklessly. Wherever their strikes landed, the Dretch were either mauled or killed outright!
With bodies nearly two meters tall and weighing almost a ton, the chimeras easily tore through the diminutive—barely four-foot—demons by brute force alone.
This was their true power, and they hadn’t even unleashed their most devastating weapon—the Dragon’s Breath. But the chimeras were well-trained: they would not waste their precious breath weapon without their master’s command.
"It’s time. Breathe—now!"
Watching satyr numbers dwindle, the old shaman confirmed that everyone had successfully escaped the cavern before shouting the order.
At once, the beastmasters howled another sequence of arcane commands. In response, the chimera’s Red Dragon heads finally dipped and, after holding back for so long, unleashed great torrents of flame—
Four blazing torrents swept over the battlefield, instantly igniting the dry grass and brush. Roaring flames churned the air, sending whirling bursts of hot wind across the cliffside!
The ensnared Dretch screamed as they burned. Even demon hide could not withstand the searing fire: they had no chance to spread their pollution, their bodies vaporized by the dragonfire, their souls cast back to the Infinite Layers of the Abyss for renewal!
The half-orc shaman breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing that barely a few Dretch remained, he felt the field was almost secure.
He turned to the battered satyr matriarch, Willo Green Vines. At this moment, her white hair—or rather, her fleece—as well as her face and robe, were filthy with ash, sticky green pus, and dark red blood. Clearly, she hadn’t had an easy time escaping the carnage.
The shaman called out with concern, "My lady, how are you? The battle’s over, you can relax now."
Willo shook her head hard, her drooping sheep ears quivering. "No, it’s not over yet—not even close. There’s something even worse in the cavern!"
And as if summoned by her words, towering black silhouettes loomed forth from the cave, flanked by the remaining Dretch.
Four massive, monstrous demons stepped into the fading light—like giant bipedal toads, each nearly three meters tall, their hideous muscles taut beneath thick, warty demon skin.
Along their backs, rows of bulbous, swelling glands pulsed, ready to erupt with deadly venom at any instant.
At their arrival, the shaman’s pupils contracted sharply. "More demons! Get the chimeras up there—keep fighting!"
The beastmasters bellowed again, and the chimeras charged the new demons fearlessly. But now, claws that had shredded Dretch with ease left only faint scratch marks across this new breed’s ultra-thick skin—totally ineffective!
When the hezrou raised their hands, their claws gleamed razor-sharp like steel knives. With powerful swipes, they easily ripped open the chimera’s flesh, sending blood pouring out.
The four chimeras howled in anguish. In the rear, the shaman’s heart nearly stopped—his face went pale with fear.
Could it be? Were the tribe’s finest five chimeras about to die here?
He didn’t know—and at the edge of the field, Charles’s face darkened as he instantly recognized their foe.
From the Infinite Layers of the Abyss, these are high-ranking, powerful demons. Their thick skin can resist most flame, cold, and lightning. Non-magical weapons can barely scratch them.
They are surrounded by a nauseating stench and sport claws sharp enough to tear steel. Even heavy plate armor is scant protection against their attacks.
The Adventurer’s Guild rates these creatures as challenge rating eight—making them stronger than Hattie and Ruth were before their purification.
But most teams can’t afford magical weapons to breach that defense. Even an ordinary level-eight adventuring party would have a hard time dealing with these monsters. For original chapters go to n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
Just as now—even the chimera’s claws barely scratch them. Several half-orc warriors swung their iron greataxes, only to feel as if striking stone, chipping mere flakes of demon skin but never reaching the flesh beneath!
But... were they not the demons’ enemies as well?
Watching the embattled chimeras and half-orc warriors clash with the hezrou, Charles’ mind raced. Suddenly, he stepped to the side, raised his hand, and formed the gesture for Eldritch Blast—
Four beams of energy tore through the air. The charging half-orcs ducked low, but Eldritch Blast wasn’t aimed at them. Instead, it raced for a hezrou further back!
That hezrou had battered a chimera nearly to death, raising its claw to deliver a finishing blow to the lion’s neck—when four energies slammed into its body!
The energy exploded across its demon hide, blasting four craters in its arm and side. The hezrou staggered, shrieking in pain!
Reeling, it turned toward the attack’s source, its muddled gaze brimming with vengeful malice. Eldritch Blast’s unique power unraveled matter directly—demon skin could not stop it. In an instant, the hezrou was wounded!
All around, the half-orcs were stunned. Beset on both sides by Charles’s party and the demons, they had felt a cloud of despair gathering—but perhaps there was hope?
"Prioritize destroying the demons!" Charles called, backing up a few steps. Four more Eldritch Blast circles spun overhead as he sent crackling energy streaking toward another hezrou pursuing half-orc warriors in the rear.
He paid no heed to the first one. That hezrou might now hate him, but it would have to cross a deadly bramble field and get through over a dozen half-orcs before reaching him—he had no fear.
His immediate goal was to save a handful of half-orcs and show his intentions: fighting the demons.
That second hezrou was even more ferocious, having already slain the chimera it fought and now chasing the surviving half-orc warriors.
But against Charles’s sudden barrage of Eldritch Blast, it was utterly unprepared. He didn’t even try to dodge—and Charles’s marksmanship meant every shot hit!
Energy beams tore straight through its demon hide, shattering the protective covering and bursting one of the inflamed glands!
Yellow-green pus and noxious stench spattered everywhere. The panicked half-orcs looked sick—a few doubled over, vomiting violently.
One of them was badly poisoned, but at least now, he was saved. Abandoning the chase, the hezrou turned and charged for Charles instead!
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