Chapter 161: Fury of the Deceived
[Arshalak’s POV]
One of the demons, Arshalak, didn’t bother to maintain his disguise as human anymore as it was just wasting his mana for needless things — not when the enemy already recognised their true identity.
The illusion peeled away, revealing the being beneath. Two curved horns pushed out from his forehead, smooth and dark as polished obsidian.
His pupils thinned into vertical slits that glowed faintly with a sinister crimson light. The faint scent of scorched air followed him as dark mana leaked naturally from his body.
His gaze swept across the grand red amphitheater below, rows upon rows of elegant crimson seats arranged in perfect arcs.
The space was silent, already abandoned by its guests.
"Haa... so troublesome. Why the hell did he throw it through the window. Fuck! Should’ve killed him from the beginning," he clicked his tongue, irritation written plainly across his face.
Arshalak drifted lower, scanning the seat patiently and determinedly.
Then he saw it.
A small glimmer of silver resting upon one of the crimson-covered chairs, catching the faint ambient light that filtered down from the shattered upper level.
He laughed maniacally.
Without much thought, Arshalak picked it up between his fingers.
"Found you."
Narrowing his eyes, he cast [Identify]. Mana flowed from his mind into the object, seeking to unravel its structure and reveal its secrets.
Then the flow halted.
A thin layer of enchantment resisted him, clinging stubbornly to the ring, distorting the information and obscuring its contents.
The demon’s brows lowered slightly as annoyance flickered across his expression.
"Huh? So he is not dead yet from my flame attack. That’s surprising."
The interference only continued because the owner was still alive. However, it only causes a short delay for him.
Even if he couldn’t use [Identify] on the ring, the dimensional storage inside it can still be forced open.
’Also, what the hell took Raglak so long? Don’t tell me that single kick already knocked him cold?’
Ignoring the thought, he gathered dark crimson mana around his hand.
The air trembled as he pushed the dark mana directly into the ring’s structure, prying apart the layers of space magic that formed the storage seal.
Then, the resistance shattered.
The storage seal collapsed.
The demon’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he loosened his grip slightly, allowing the contents within the ring to spill out.
Then, he saw a single folded piece of white paper slide into his palm.
He stared at it in silence for a moment.
"Wait. This looks different."
Slowly, he unfolded the paper.
In the center of the page was a crude drawing. The lines were uneven, almost childish in appearance. And despite the tragic anatomical accuracy of the drawing, he knew what it was...
It was a damn single raised middle finger!
"..."
The silence around him grew heavy.
Then the paper ignited instantly, consumed by a burst of blue flame that reduced it to ash before it could even curl.
The demon’s expression became darkened.
"That insolent insect!"
"How dare he trick me!"
The demon grew mad.
Not once he was being tricked.
But twice!
His hand slowly tightened, the ring creaking faintly under the pressure of his grip as anger simmered beneath his composed exterior.
Then, a calm voice drifted down from above, echoing gently through the vast amphitheater.
"Why so mad?"
The demon snapped his head upward.
Three figures slowly came out from the shattered opening of the VIP lounge, through the dark smoke, as they were carried by a powerful wind.
The invisible flow supported their bodies as though they weighed nothing, gently guiding them downward.
At the center was the dark-haired man, his expression composed, almost indifferent despite the tension saturating the air.
On his left, was the dark-haired woman, and on his right, floated another new woman which he hadn’t seen before.
’Wait, that blonde woman... She’s a First-Class Magus.’
They lowered gradually until their feet touched the wide staircase that connected the upper level to the grand amphitheater floor.
Then the wind dispersed slowly.
’Shit.’
The demon cursed inwardly.
*****
[Ruvian’s POV]
Ruvian calmly looked at the demon.
"We traded fairly, did we not? You gave me her and I threw you the ring. But, I do not recall ever saying that I would give you the scroll."
"So technically, it’s your fault for not understanding the deal."
His lips curved slightly, the faintest trace of mockery visible in his eyes.
The demon gave them a glare.
"Well, I guess you could say all demons are fools?" Silvena added, a faint smirk on her lips as she lightly rested her hand on Ruvian’s shoulder.
The demon’s fingers tightened slowly around the ring as anger rose within him like a boiling magma. The air around him distorted faintly as dark mana seeped outward from his body.
Yet despite the surge of fury, his attention remained on Irene. His instincts reacted first, far faster than his thoughts.
’I guess that explained why Raglak was knocked out...’ he assumed.
Although Irene was concealing her true strength, he could feel it faintly. The flow of mana around her was neatly controlled, different to any ordinary magus.
Still, his anger burned stronger than his caution.
Whether there were two enemies or three did not matter. Humans who learned about the existence of demons could never be allowed to live freely.
He did not know how they had discovered them here, but he could only assume they had been targeting them from the start.
There was no other explanation that made sense.
And from that, only one conclusion formed in his mind.
They must be the ones spoken of — the people who starting to investigate the existence of demon, the group that believed their kind still existed somewhere in the shadows.
His lips slowly curved into a cold smile, though the anger in his eyes did not fade.
"It seems my luck is truly poor... to meet someone from the Cleansing Flame."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Well, what’s done is done. It would be a great waste to let the three of you walk away."
A faint killing intent spread from him.
Hearing what the demon had said, Silvena’s eye brows slightly twitched.
Ruvian then asked her since he didn’t quite catch it:
"...a member of what?"
Silvena gave a small shrug without looking away from the demon.
"I have no idea either."
’Damn it... did the demon already know about that? I was planning to tell Ruvian about it once we’ve done with this trip.’
"Anyway, we should get ready." Silvena said after sighing.
Then, almost simultaneously, all four of them began channeling mana. Heavy pressure spread across the amphitheater as currents of mana gathered, clashing softly against one another.
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[Chapter 161: Fury of the Deceived]
