The Blood Sword gleamed in Arga’s grip as it thrust toward the Skull Maiden’s throat. But the moment the blade pierced her flesh, the horrifying creature dissolved into a swirl of thick, inky smoke.The black mist drifted swiftly out of the inn, and Arga sprinted after it without a second thought. Yet the moment he stepped into the night air, the trail vanished into thin air—gone as if it had never existed at all.With a grunt of frustration, he turned back and rushed inside, his heart pounding with fear for Arimbi. He threw his weight against every door in the hallway, his muscles tensing with each attempt. But not a single one budged—not even the flimsiest wooden panel.Why is this door so impossibly strong!? he thought, his jaw clenched tight.Then a voice echoed in his mind—the Shadow Demon’s, low and cunning. “This door bears my aura. It seems I have walked these halls before, young one. Try channeling my power.”Arga did as he was told, drawing on the dark energy that lurked wit

“All men are the same—blinded by a woman’s fleshly allure. Like oxen with a ring through their noses, they’ll bow and obey once they’ve fallen under the spell,” Suari purred, her lips curving into a honeyed smile as she turned her gaze toward Arga.Even the way she walked was enough to fix any man’s eyes to her form—and when paired with the single sheet of gossamer-thin fabric that clung to her body, she might as well have been naked. Who could blame anyone for staring, for feeling that fire of desire burn in their veins?Then, a deafening BOOM echoed from within the inn. In the blink of an eye, a figure clad in pure white lunged toward Suari, her movements as light as a feather dancing on the wind. Before the seductress could even draw breath, the white-cloaked figure stood before her—none other than Arimbi.“How dare you tempt another’s beloved! Do you wish to throw away your life!?” Arimbi roared, her voice like thunder cracking through the stillness.Suari flinched at the sudden a

(This chapter contains mature content of an intimate nature. Readers who find such material unsuitable are advised to proceed directly to the next chapter. Your understanding is greatly appreciated.)In the wake of their brutal clash against the Skull Maiden, Arga and Arimbi resolved to extend their stay at the Devil’s Rest by yet another night—binding them to the ancient decree that all guests must abide within its walls for a full three days and nights to earn safe passage through the accursed lands beyond.The darkness of that evening wrapped around the inn like a velvet shroud, and within the confines of their chamber, the air hummed with a tension that had been building since the moment they’d crossed the threshold of the notorious establishment. Where once Arga had fumbled through unfamiliarity, guided only by the fleeting lessons of his past encounter with Dara—who had later revealed herself to be none other than Arimbi in a different guise—he now moved with the deliberate grac

“By a Thousand Heavenly Judgments!” Arimbi roared, unleashing the most devastating attack in her arsenal. From the magnificent pair of wings that spanned across her back, thousands of shimmering silver feathers shot forth like torrential rain, cutting through the air with blinding speed toward the Blazing Moss Serpent Shapeshifter. The creature had long sensed the incoming assault from behind. With a violent snap of its colossal tail, it sent surging waves of golden wind crashing outward—raw, untamed power that tore through the air like a hurricane. The golden gusts slammed into Arimbi’s silver feathers with earth-shattering force, sending them scattering in every conceivable direction. Worse still, a barrage of the sharpened plumes careened back toward their caster, whirling through the sky like vengeful darts. Arimbi dove and twisted to evade the onslaught, but her movements were not quite fast enough. The hardened feathers pierced through her flesh—across her legs, her torso

Arga pressed onward through the heart of the accursed forest, his boots finding purchase on a narrow path paved with smooth, dark stones that seemed to drink the very light around them. A strange unease crept through his veins as he walked—who would dare lay such a road in a place teeming with demons, where even the trees twisted into gnarled shapes that seemed to leer at passersby? The stones beneath his feet were cold to the touch, and every step echoed with an unnatural sharpness, as if the path itself were alive and listening to his passage.Before long, the sound of running water cut through the suffocating silence of the woods—a gentle trickle that grew steadily louder as he drew near. His throat was parched, his tongue thick with thirst after hours of trekking through the sunless undergrowth. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace, following the sound until a small stream came into view, its waters gliding over polished pebbles in a channel carved into the earth.The stream