v5c37: Dark Tide Rising

The demons roared as they charged forward, their bodies filling the hall with a tide of chitin and muscled flesh.

A crescent of silver met them. Three were bisected, falling in halves. The fourth raised its arms and lost both of them, but the dark chitin blunted the blow enough that the silver blade only went halfway through its chest. It did not pause or slow as it continued its mad dash, stepping between its fallen comrades—two of whom kept scrabbling forwards, using their arms, now that their legs were missing, and only moving slightly slower.

Black blades burst out of the stumps of the creature’s arms as it reached for its opponent, intent on his end.

Its eyes failed to track the shadow it had been reaching for as Bi De appeared behind it. Its head was separated from its shoulders. Bi De did not land, instead snapping his wings, his spurs glowing with light.

The ones still clawing their way forward stilled as the Moon’s Fangs descended. The next rank similarly fell as the rooster moved through them, cutting them all down. They reached for him. Tentacles burst out of their backs that aimed to snatch and snag. Attacks that should have been fatal were shrugged off, as the beasts did their best to drag him down even in death.

Their skills were lacking. Their might was lacking. But his breathing was still off. Using that technique took much from his reserves, but there was no real choice in the matter. His foe had been two Stages above him and had needed to die—fast. However, while he did not need long to recover himself, he still needed some time.

His latest enemies had appeared just as Bi De was trying to make sure his foe was dead for good, and such was the ferocity of the initial attack that Bi De had been forced to retreat briefly, giving ground to not be overrun.

The beast had a hole through him and hadn’t been obviously regenerating, but that was no certainty with these things.

Bi De hadn’t had a moment’s respite since.

But… instead of retreating and dragging the attacks towards his comrades, Bi De had purposely slowed his pace. By Bi De’s own design, the fight had taken him quite far from the prison. It would keep this section of artificial demons here, and hopefully draw more away from the prison. The little shadow rat with him had not tried to warn him of anything yet either.

So Bi De kept fighting. He flared his Qi, to let the enemy know he was near. He opened his mouth and roared his challenge.

The demons would come, and they would break upon him.

Indeed, his prayers were answered, as the hallway was once more filled with black chitin and snarling beasts.

Standing alone against the darkness, the moon shone on.

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The thunder of chitin-clad feet. The wheezing, rasping breaths. The snarls. The smell of blood. The creeping terror that crawled up his spine that he forced down with every breath.

Fenxian had been in a situation far too similar to this barely a month ago. He remembered the halls of the other demonic cultivator base after the explosion had gone off.

They had lost then. They had been hunted like animals through the snow. Yingwen had lost his legs and Fenxian had nearly died too, his scalp and face burned down to the bone.

Had he been saved by the will of Heavens, or had he defied his destined death? Yingwen always liked to think about that sort of thing, and Fenxian was long used to Yingwen’s musings. Before the Azure Hills, the two of them hadn’t exactly been friends. They were too different to truly get along, brought together by chance because the Elders wanted to keep an eye on Zang Li.

A truly shameful thing that they had missed the imposter, and worse, nearly brought the Shrouded Mountain Sect into conflict with the Cloudy Sword Sect. They had been defeated, at Master Rou’s mercy… and Yingwen had offered to shoulder the blame. He had volunteered himself as the sole sacrifice, to preserve all their lives. Fenxian honestly hadn’t expected that of the stuck up, stuffy bastard. He seemed like more the type to try and save his own skin—but he hadn’t.

Even if the Expert had denied Yingwen’s offer, Fenxian’s fellow disciple had managed to save their lives with quick talking, successfully shifting the blame to the actual demonic imposter.

Yingwen got himself a sworn brother that day—even if they hadn’t actually said it to each other yet. They had been too busy. First the inquiry from the Elders, then the punishments—Fenxian thought they were going to die all over again when Elder Zang Zeng called for their deaths for their “gross incompetence”. It was only through Elder Shenhe’s grace that they were spared worse punishments for such a loss of face for the Sect, and that immediately transitioned into fighting demons.

Which had led him here, fighting said demons again with the help of Master Rou’s disciples. Two of which were foxes. That had been a mind-bend. Foxes helping to save the Shrouded Mountain Sect.

Fenxian took a deep breath and pushed every other thought away, refocusing himself. The ones in the back just needed some time. He wasn’t entirely looking forward to round two. The demons were strong, and it would only be a matter of time until they were overwhelmed. Each of them could certainly take on at least one of the beasts… but there was never just one.

Maybe if they had Bi De, it would be a certain thing, but judging from the sound of combat further off… the man returning wasn’t guaranteed.

At least this time there was no ambush. This time, they were prepared.

The sound of pounding feet got closer, slowing slightly as the demons took in the hallway and the illusion of the door. The others were all looking at it, tense. Yusahang was standing to the side, her Heavy Sword raised above her head and ready to bring it down on the first thing through. Spooks the Spirit Beast stood shoulder to shoulder with Fenxian, forming the core, while Outrider Shao Heng and Yun Ren would provide support.

The silence was tense. The footfalls got closer and closer and closer. The wheezing rattle of their foes’ breath echoed through the hall.

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They stopped.

The wheezing rattle echoed.

And then, to Fenxian’s surprise, it seemed that the illusion had actually worked.

The chitin clad feet started to move on. The sound of it started to pick up speed.

Then, one of the demons kicked a rock. It was a small stone, knocked off the ceiling by the door when it had impacted. It skipped off the ground, with quiet little clacks.

It passed right through the door that was supposed to be there, rolling and tumbling until, with a little pirouette, it settled at Fenxian’s feet.

“Aw shit,” he heard Yun Ren whisper.

The sound of pounding feet paused, as one of the demons screeched. They were stupid things, these artificial demons.

But stupid… did not mean unobservant.

The clack, clack, clack of chitin on stone returned.

A black sword stabbed through the illusion.

There was more wheezing and several clacks as the monsters communicated with each other.