Hadjar’s musings were cut short by another tornado, which surged out of the Dah’Khass’ mouth and raced toward him.
“Let’s see whose wind is stronger.” Hadjar smiled recklessly.
He decided not to use one of the outright lethal stances of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique, but a stance that only enhanced his attacks.
“Spring Wind!”
A stream of blue wind enveloped the Black Blade. He’d expected pain, but the seal didn’t try to hurt him. Hadjar looked at his own sword in surprise — the stream had used to be black.
Assuming the stance, he swung his sword in a wide arc. The six-foot long crescent of energy spun around on its axis. The ground beneath him parted, sending debris flying in all directions. The crescent spun above the deep hollow, turning the air currents into a black-and-blue tornado. The two whirlwinds collided with a horrible howl. They tore the earth asunder.
A wave of wind covered Steppe Fang. Though unable to move, the orc used his Call to shield himself. Another wave of energy rushed toward the students of the ‘Red Mule’ school. If not for Azrea, they would’ve received severe injuries. The Ancient Beast watched the fight between her two-legged friend and the demon nervously. Seeing the wave coming, she jumped to her feet, opened her mouth, and growled. Lightning came down all around her from the sky and a stream of white flame slid off her fur, forming a barrier that cut through the wave with ease.
Hadjar, standing on a pile of debris in the middle of a newly-formed pit, had only a few scratches, while the Dah’Khass’ left leg whirled through the air.
“Scum!” The demon screamed. “You’ll pay for that!”
Suddenly, her already dry skin got even drier. The light in her eyes dimmed a little, the blood gushing from her wound darkened, and her fangs shone white. It was as if she’d given up some of her vitality in exchange for power.
Hadjar got ready for her attack, but… The Dah’Khass’ jaws snapped shut. Although confused, he was alert enough to feel a presence to his left. He instinctively tried to turn into a plume of black fog and, using the ‘Wind’ stance, dodge away.
But despite his speed, her attack was much faster. A ghostly copy of the Dah’Khass’ fanged maw appeared in the air. Before the black fog enveloped Hadjar fully, it sank its teeth into his flesh. Biting off a large chunk of it, the jaws disappeared, along with their prey. Hadjar lost his momentum and rolled on the ground. Looking up, he saw her swallow. Blood trickled down her chin, soaking into her skin. His blood!
He tried to stand up but stumbled.
“Damn it all!” Hadjar cursed, seeing the huge bite mark on his left hip.
He now understood how those devoured by the Black Blade must feel. Hadjar felt a part of his power, part of his essence, leave with that chunk of flesh.
Looking around, he snatched a piece of burning wood from the wreckage of a carriage. He poured energy into it and held it against his hip.
Black smoke rose into the air, accompanied by a hiss. Hadjar howled in pain and almost lost consciousness, but he was able to stop the bleeding.
The ghostly maw was no longer in the air, but the blood from his wound was somehow streaming directly into the hag’s mouth.
“I’ve never,” the Dah’Khass thrashed around in a kind of frenzied, orgasmic pleasure, “I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life!”
Her eyes flashed, then began to fade. Hadjar, who now knew what was coming, assumed a defensive stance. He could barely move his left leg, so there was no chance of him dodging what came next. And then he got an idea. He closed his eyes and focused on the World River. In it, Hadjar’s foe looked like a disgusting lump of whitish energy, inside which the black-and-blue light of his essence was slowly fading.
“Let’s see how you like it when you’re the one getting devoured!”
Just as he’d suspected, there was a brief, white flash in the energy streams. Few would’ve reacted in time, but Hadjar, who’d waged thousands of battles, was able to do just that.
The sword disappeared from his right hand and instantly materialized in his left, which meant he didn’t need to move his right arm and assume a defensive stance. The hag’s maw closed around the Black Blade. The demon, who didn’t understand what had just happened at first, summoned her maw back and regretted her decision right away. Along with her maw, she’d summoned back a piece of the Black Blade that eagerly bit into her energy body.
“Fucking bastard!” She screamed, spitting out green blood tinged with black.
Paying no attention to her cursing, Hadjar used this opportunity to strike. With a swift kick, he smashed the nearby wall to pieces and then sent them flying at the Dah’Khass.
“That trick won’t work twice!” The monster screamed, flapping her wings furiously.
“I never use the same trick twice.”
Fog enveloped him. Pushing off with his good leg, Hadjar jumped onto one of the stones flying in her direction.
Chapter 575
The wind that the Dah’Khass’ wings kicked up was only able to slow the stones down a little, nothing more. All of them were in range and could be influenced by Hadjar’s will. The attack would be costly, but it was his only chance.
“I’ll feed on you for ages!” The demon laughed and, after filling her lungs with air once again, screamed.
Sonic waves spread through the air, shattering the stones. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the pain in his left leg, Hadjar leapt from stone to stone in the air. He needed to get closer to use the ‘Black Wind’ Technique, the attack he’d recreated by studying the Black General’s portrait. The Dah’Khass had easily dodged all of his other attacks. The only chance he had was to take advantage of the wound the Black Blade had inflicted on her and knock her down to the ground.
Dodging another sonic wave, Hadjar leapt to the next stone, then pushed off from it and soared into the air. When he got close to his opponent, he imbued his sword with energy and the mysteries of the Sword. As he swung, he shouted:
“Black Wind!”
Darkness enveloped the Dah’Khass. There was no way she could use her wings to defend herself this time because she was wounded and flying. All she managed to do was dodge to the left and avoid a direct hit. Hadjar landed and relished her screaming as she fell to the ground. Her severed wing landed beside her.
Hadjar rolled to the side, rose to one knee, and held the Black Blade behind his back, as if sheathing it. He was about to nail her to the ground with the ‘Falling Leaf’ and then finish her off when the Dah’Khass surprised him yet again. Lying in a pool of her own blood, she threw her head back and let out a high-pitched, ear-splitting scream. The pile of bodies that she’d been leaning on when they’d first met suddenly stirred. The blue corpses, their eyes already murky with death, began to twitch like puppets on a string. Opening their mouths full of sharp fangs that had replaced their normal teeth, they began to walk, crawl, and waddle toward Hadjar. Despite their mindless nature, he saw bloodlust in their expressions.
“Not bad,” Hadjar grinned, “but not good enough. Falling Leaf!”
A black cloud appeared over the Dah’Khass as she was trying to crawl away. A dragon descended from it, its body looking like a huge sword. It pinned her to the ground. The Dah’Khass screamed. She writhed in agony, but couldn’t break free. Hadjar, who’d turned into black fog, was too fast for the claws and fangs of the undead.
Towering over his victim, Hadjar raised the Black Blade.
“I hope my sword doesn’t choke on you.”
“Damn you, you fu-”
The Dah’Khass didn’t get to finish cursing. The Black Blade pierced her skull. Hadjar gave it a mental order to devour the creature. It instantly split into a myriad of black wisps, which bit into her energy channels, causing terrible pain. The Dah’Khass was eaten alive as she struggled in agony.
A few seconds later, it was all over. The Black Blade left only a dried up mummy behind, which turned to gray dust when the wind blew past. The Dah’Khass
’ servants fell with their mistress.
Sated, the Black Blade returned to Hadjar’s soul. The energy in Hadjar’s core ran out, his Call faded, and Hadjar felt his knees buckle. He would’ve fallen into a pool of green blood that was eating away at the stones, but someone caught him. A pair of strong arms picked him up and put him down far away from the green pool.
“You fought bravely, little hunter,” Steppe Fang said, taking bundles of herbs and roots out of his bag. “Bravely, but stupidly.”
The orc put the herbs in a mortar and grinded them into a multicolored, sweet paste.
He put a stick between Hadjar’s teeth and started smearing the ointment on his wound. Hadjar briefly lost consciousness from the pain.
“Was all of that… a test?” he asked the orc once he came to.
Steppe Fang flinched in surprise and his hand moved a little on Hadjar’s wound. Hadjar, howling, fell unconscious again.
Coming to, he heard distant, muffled sounds, and then blurred images appeared.
“How long have you known?” Steppe Fang asked.
“It took me a while to figure it out,” Hadjar said honestly. “But if the Dah’Khasses could really beat you so easily, you would’ve gone extinct long ago.”
Helping Hadjar sit up, Steppe Fang grinned broadly, baring his fangs.
“I had to make sure, little hunter.”
“Make sure of what?”
“That you can resist a Dah’Khass’ temptation. Few people can. It’s different with us orcs. They can’t assume our form, so we can fight them.”
Hadjar looked around. He began to understand why there was no blood on the battlefield. None had managed to resist the call.
“Can you help my friends?” Hadjar asked, looking at the trio.
“Smoke from Yellow Star Grass.” Steppe Fang showed him a bundle of shimmering, yellow herbs. “It’ll bring them back to their senses. However, Yellow Star Grass can’t help them against the stronger Dah’Khasses. They should leave if they want to live.”
Hadjar shook his head sadly. He knew they would want to stay with him.
“I wonder how strong their King is.” With a trembling hand, Hadjar took his pipe and tobacco out of his shirt.
“Stronger than you can imagine,” the orc replied while setting fire to the grass.
“Oh, that’s fine then…”
Chapter 576
Hadjar watched the disciples of the ‘Red Mule’ school come to their senses. They were not a pretty sight, to be honest, but Steppe Fang, being a different race, paid no attention to it as he waved a bundle of smoking Yellow Grass before their nostrils. Surprisingly, it clung to their faces like a mask instead of simply being inhaled. For a moment, Hadjar saw the contorted face of the Dah’Khass in the clinging Yellow Grass.
“They should turn back,” Steppe Fang said and rose to his feet.
Alea was the first to wake up. Opening her eyes, she looked around in a daze, trying to figure out what had happened. Then she blushed, jumped to her feet, and ran over to the horses. She grabbed her saddlebag as she ran and then disappeared behind some ruins. Her sister quickly followed suit. Hadjar thought he heard them swearing. Derek, on the other hand, looked calm when he awoke.
“Is this the ‘Sweet Dreams’ House?” He asked, still delirious.
“No,” Hadjar grunted, cutting off a piece of a banner with his dagger. He wrapped the cloth around the horrible scar on his leg (the orc’s herbal salve had worked wonders). “We’re not in a brothel.”
“What makes you think that the ‘Sweet Dreams’ House is a brothel?” Derek stretched and even smacked his lips. “By the way, what are you-?”
Finally, he came to his senses. Looking around dazedly, he seemed to remember recent events. His gaze then moved to his groin. He didn’t blush, but he did wrap his cloak around himself.
“Who saw me?” He asked, his teeth chattering.
Hadjar was about to reply when the girls came out from behind the ruins. They were wearing new clothes. Judging by the smell of burning fabric filling the air and the rising column of smoke, they’d burnt their old ones.
“We. Will. Never. Talk. About. This,” Alea said, emphasizing each word.
Irma, her face red with either shame or anger, nodded furiously. Derek just opened and closed his mouth in silence.
“Guys.” Hadjar got to his feet with Steppe Fang’s help. “You’d better turn back. It’s now or never. When we enter the Dah’Khasses’ territory, it’ll be too late.”
It was only then that the trio finally noticed the aftermath of the battle that had happened between Hadjar and the demon. The echo from the collision of their energies was still lingering in the air. All three of them were certain that Hadjar could send them to their forefathers with a single swing of his sword. And yet, despite all his power, the battle clearly hadn’t been an easy one. What could they, the simple students of a borderlands school, do against an enemy that even Hadjar had struggled to defeat?
The moment these doubts formed in their minds, the trio immediately brushed them aside. If that was the mindset they were going to adopt, they might as well destroy their nodes and end their journey right here and now. There were a lot of creatures in this world that were far more powerful than them. A true cultivator grew stronger with each battle, especially when a single wrong move meant certain death. Fighting was the only way to become stronger and progress along the path of cultivation.
They’d come to the border to test their strength, and now that they had a chance to fight opponents far more formidable than the Darnassian patrols, they couldn’t simply turn back.
“Steppe Fang,” Derek said, straightening his back. “Was it a mental attack?”
“Mental attack?” The orc repeated. “The Dah’Khasses feed your inner spirit sweet food in order to enthrall you. I don’t know what humans call it-”
“Yes, it was,” Hadjar said, interrupting him. “It was a mental attack.”
Derek nodded and turned to Alea, who took a small box out of her bag. There were three small earrings inside. Keeping one for herself, she gave the other two to her sister and Derek, who immediately put them on. Looking at the decorations through the World River, Hadjar whistled. A small, but very bright hieroglyph full of energy had been carved into each artifact. Bundles of energy separated from the hieroglyph and surrounded their heads. Any mental attack below the Heaven level wouldn’t be able to get through such a barrier.
“Where did you get those?” Hadjar asked in surprise.
“It was a gift from the headmaster,” Alea answered. “In case we’re ever captured, these earrings are supposed to help us protect our minds from attacks.”
Hadjar remembered the time when they’d captured the disciples of ‘The Black Gates’ sect. They must’ve had a similar artifact, as no one had been able to penetrate their consciousness. In such cases, Hadjar had simply called for the torturer. Where mind Techniques had failed, the ‘red-hot needles under the fingernails’ method had helped. Or the rack. Or the whips.
“Are you sure you don’t want to turn back?” Hadjar insisted, although he didn’t want his debt to remain unpaid. He knew that there was no way he could help them in the demon lands. What’s more, he wasn’t sure that he himself would be able to return from there in one piece. However, like the trio, he had only one desire: to grow stronger. If he died there, that would mean that he was too weak. Death or more power — the eternal struggle of the cultivators. Once a person stepped off that path, they’d never be able to get back on it.
“Would you leave?” Irma asked.
Hadjar just stared at her.
“By the High Heavens… Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Hadjar sighed. He made himself a makeshift pair of crutches out of some spears. It was inconvenient, but helpful. “If you die out there, I’ll consider my debt paid regardless.”
Derek went over to Hadjar and squeezed his shoulder.
“You just protected us from a Dah’Khass. You’ve repaid your
debt.” Derek looked excited. “We’re… friends now.”
Hadjar flinched and recoiled.
“If you knew what kind of fate usually befalls my friends, you wouldn’t be smiling,” he said grimly.
Steppe Fang yawned.
“Soft-hearted runts,” he teased. “We have a hunt ahead of us, there’s no time to shed tears.”
He mounted his wolf and rode slowly toward the mountains. He was soon followed by Hadjar, who was riding Azrea, and the trio, who were on their horses. Compared to the sheer size of the mountain rage, their little group looked like ants trying to climb up an elephant’s back.
Chapter 577
“What’s that?” Hadjar asked.
“A watchman,” Steppe Fang explained, taking the old, cracked telescope from Hadjar’s hand. It still remembered a time when Hadjar had been the Mad General. “He’s much weaker than the demon you fought.”
“Then why don’t we kill him?” Derek suggested.
The orc ignored him, so Hadjar had to answer.
“Do they teach you military science at your school?”
“Yes, every inner circle disciple has to take a military science course,” Alea said. “When we pass the exam, we earn the rank of a junior officer.”
Hadjar nodded. The same system was used in Darnassus. If the inner circle disciples of a small school received the rank of junior officer, then what ranks did the elite students of a School from the capital receive? Colonel, maybe? Then again, given the strength of the Dinos and Marnil families, it was quite likely.
“Then think about it: why would such a weak watchman be standing here?” Hadjar continued patiently.
The trio mulled it over, and then they swore as they got it.
“If we kill him, the other demons will know.”
Hadjar nodded.
“And if we try to get past him,” he added, “he’ll surely try to stop us.”
The disciples swore again.
The five of them, having left their mounts on the plateau below, were lying atop a mountain peak. They were staring into the darkness of a wide gorge that was so dark it was as if it had been flooded with lava thousands of years ago.
Dragon Heart: Land of Demons. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 7 Page 17