Chapter 18

Chapter 18
## Chapter 18: Demon Baron (4)

The landscape was swallowed by a night of profound, rushing ink.

The moon, which had been submerged in a dark slumber, peeked through its lids as if it had never closed them. A thin, pale crescent emerged, casting a ghostly radiance. This lunar light bled into the tattered clouds, creating a faint halo, while thick, curdled shadows began to crawl up the stone steps leading to the fortress walls.

A sentry, whose head had been dipping in a light doze, snapped to attention as a soft presence brushed against his senses. Panicked, he leveled his polearm at the gloom.

“Halt! Who goes there? State your business!”

“Quiet down, Delton. It is only me.”

“Oh—my apologies, Lord Baron!”

“Hush!”

Baron Molden pressed a warning finger against his mouth to ensure silence.

The nobleman was not traveling alone. Looming behind him was the hulking, dark frame of a primitive warrior. The Baron was outfitted in padded gambeson reinforced by metal links, carrying both a spear and a blade. In contrast, the barbarian was festooned with cruel instruments of war at his waist and carried a heavy coil of rope over one shoulder.

The sight was so bizarre—appearing like a midnight hunting party for monsters—that Delton briefly questioned his own sanity. Other guards, shaken from their lethargy by the whispers, leaned over the battlements in equal bewilderment.

The Baron offered a quiet reprimand to the stunned soldier.

“Compose yourself, Delton. You are the ranking veteran on this watch. Show the others how a soldier carries himself.”

“Pardon me, sire. It is just… what brings you out at such an hour?”

Ignoring the inquiry, the Baron began delivering instructions.

“Secure this line firmly to the stone. Under no circumstances is anyone to exit these walls.”

His voice lacked its usual mildness; it wasn’t just firm, it was heavy with a grim finality, exceeding even the gravity he displayed when he sought a parley with Viscount Adlen.

Delton gulped, the air suddenly thick. He didn’t press for details, choosing instead to honor the Baron’s resolve with a sharp nod of obedience.

The barbarian went over the side, descending the rope with the speed of a falling stone. Curiously, despite the velocity of his drop, he touched the earth without making a sound. The Baron adjusted his armored gloves, seized the cord, and followed his companion down.

Before he disappeared, the Baron called out the names of every man on the wall.

“Delton, Sgellon, Odrik, Kren, Benin, Cherod, Donefin.”

“Present, sir.”

“We are here, my lord.”

“I am placing my most valued possession in your hands.”

The soldiers looked at one another, puzzled.

“Keep Molden safe.”

With that parting charge, the Baron vanished into the abyss below.

—

A heavy, reverent quiet took hold of the ramparts. An inexplicable weight settled in the lungs of the men. The soldiers of Molden shared looks of unease before turning back to the darkness, watching the spot where their lord had disappeared until the night swallowed him whole.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The terms Kadim had laid out were blunt.

“Fight until your life is spent, Baron.”

“Excuse me?”

“When darkness falls, we strike their encampment. Just the two of us. A blade and a spear are all we need. You aren’t fast, so wear something light.”

“Wait, the two of us against an entire army? That is nothing short of a suicide mission.”

“Wasn’t that always your intent?”

The Baron fell silent.

It didn’t truly matter how he perished; once the “Demon Baron” was dead, Viscount Adlen’s justification for war would vanish. Whether he was executed after a white flag or fell in the heat of battle, the result for his people was the same.

However, a nagging doubt remained.

“If I fall after killing my own subjects, won’t Viscount Adlen simply burn Molden to the ground in retaliation?”

“Don’t fret over that. I intend to end that bastard’s life tonight.”

The Baron stared at him.

“If we fail to reach the Viscount, I will return and assist in your siege defense as you requested.”

It was a boastful claim, one that didn’t even acknowledge the risk of failure.

Yet, looking at the barbarian, the Baron found the confidence strangely believable. Even if the Baron himself were swarmed and killed, this savage warrior looked as though he could carve a path through a mountain of bodies and walk away without a scratch.

Regardless, it was a gamble the Baron couldn’t refuse. His life was already forfeit, but this path offered a chance to cut out the heart of the cancer.

Of course, the Baron couldn’t possibly fathom Kadim’s actual motivation for bringing him along.

They reached the perimeter of the camp shortly after. Kadim signaled for him to stay low. The Baron crouched with care, trying to keep his metal gear from clattering.

The midnight air was stiflingly still. The enemy camp was a void of light; no torches flickered. The only visibility came from the intense moonlight and a sky thick with stars that looked like spilled salt.

The Baron squinted, unable to discern much in the gloom. The barbarian’s eyes, however, seemed to cut through the shadows, instantly identifying the silhouettes of the perimeter guards.

“It begins.”

Without pausing, Kadim snatched a small blade from his belt and snapped his wrist.

*Thwip!*

The steel hissed through the air like a hornet. It found the narrow gap between the guard’s helmet and neck guard, burying itself in the throat. The guard on the left lurched like a drunk and hit the dirt. The second guard slowly rotated his head toward his fallen comrade.

Even looking directly at the corpse, the guard gave no sign of alarm.

He reacted as if he had merely seen a pebble on the ground.

In that heartbeat of indifference, Kadim bolted forward, swinging the heavy grip of his sword. The metal smashed into the guard’s lower face.

*Crack-crunch!*

The brutal impact shattered the man’s jaw and teeth, continuing upward to split the cranium. Grey matter and crimson fluid leaked from the ruined head. The soldier’s frame shuddered and collapsed, a soft wheeze escaping the wreckage of his throat.

“Hmph…”

Kadim squinted, looming over the dead men for a brief inspection.

Their faces were gaunt, cheeks hollowed out, and their arms were thin as dry branches. During the day’s chaos, he hadn’t noticed, but up close, it was clear these men were nothing but skin and bone. This wasn’t the result of missing a few meals; this was long-term starvation.

They showed no emotion at a comrade’s death, and despite their starvation, none had deserted.

These weren’t normal men. Yet, they weren’t monsters in disguise either. Their blood ran hot, and a touch to the chest revealed a fading, rhythmic pulse.

His theory was no longer a guess; it was a certainty.

Kadim shot a sharp look at the Baron and made a quick hand gesture.

“We move in.”

The Baron followed, his jaw set.

Upon entering the camp proper, the Baron couldn’t suppress a low groan of horror.

“Ugh…”

Even with his limited night vision, the sight was harrowing: gaunt figures drifted through the tents like restless spirits. These were soldiers who did not sleep, did not disarm, and did not rest. They simply shuffled aimlessly through the dirt.

*Scuff, scuff—*

The silence was unnatural. No voices, no campfire chatter. Only the sound of boots dragging on earth and the chirping of crickets. It felt like walking through a living nightmare.

Then, all at once, every wandering eye turned toward them.

The stares were vacant yet intensely focused. The mob began to drift toward them with slow, deliberate steps.

The Baron’s heart hammered against his ribs. Kadim, however, remained cold and analytical as he gave his final orders.

“Kill as many as you can here. I’m going into the heart of the camp.”

“What is it you’re looking for?”

“I told you. Viscount Adlen. He’s the general; the strongest demonic influence will be anchored to him.”

The Baron recoiled, his eyes wide with shock. He looked at Kadim with a mix of fear and realization, wondering how this barbarian knew such things.

Kadim didn’t explain. He only offered a cold smirk.

“Go ahead, Baron. Kill until you’re dead. These are the monsters who destroyed everything you held dear, aren’t they?”

The Baron didn’t answer.

*They are just empty shells now, and you aren’t going to die anyway.*

Kadim kept that thought to himself. He turned away and sprinted directly into the mass of soldiers.

*Thwip, thwip!*

He pulled more knives and threw them in a blur. The short blades pinned themselves into the foreheads of the approaching men.

*Thud, thud!*

Their eyes rolled back, and two bodies hit the ground stiffly, without uttering a single cry.

*Slash!*

He drew his main blade in a silver arc, bisecting the nearest foe. The steel shimmered under the moon. As the throat opened, a spray of dark blood erupted, but the blade seemed to drink the life-force, leaving not a drop on the ground.

The other soldiers watched Kadim with those same hollow sockets.

Totally unbothered by the carnage around them, they continued to close the distance, raising their rusted weapons one by one.

*Clang, shing—*

The camp was crowded, the space restricted. To reach his goal, he had to butcher his way through this sea of walking dead.

Kadim unslung the massive battle axe he had brought from the fortress. He held it in his left hand, while his sword, Mosquito, remained in his right. He threw himself into the pack with savage force.

“Raaargh!”

He swung the axe in wide, devastating circles. His natural strength combined with the weapon’s weight produced terrifying power.

*Splorch! Crunch!!*

The axe was relentless. While the edge struggled to cut through thick gambesons, the blunt force trauma was absolute. Clavicles snapped, internal organs were turned to pulp, and spines shattered like glass. Men fell in piles.

*Stab, slice-crunch!*

His sword work was surgical. Even in the dim light and the press of bodies, he found the gaps in their mail, driving steel into windpipes. He moved like a predatory phantom, severing limbs and crushing faces. The bodies fell like puppets with their strings cut.

Kadim was a whirlwind of death, yet he remained untouched. The sluggish, clumsy strikes of the possessed soldiers couldn’t find his skin. They felt a dull, diluted hatred for him, but it was too weak to pose a threat.

It was clear that maintaining control over such a massive number of bodies was draining the demon’s focus.

However, as he pushed deeper into the camp, the atmosphere shifted.

Suddenly, dozens of soldiers collapsed into heaps, as if the power animating them had been abruptly withdrawn. The remaining soldiers, however, suddenly had eyes that burned with a sharp, malicious intelligence.

Their movements became explosive. Spears lunged with intent, and guttural sounds tore from their throats.

“Grraaah, grraaah…”

“Grraaah! Grah, guhk!”

The demon was pulling its scattered essence back, concentrating its will into a select few elite guards.

But they were still no match for Kadim.

In fact, he preferred this. Their aggression meant he was close to the source, and he found it far more satisfying to cut down enemies that actually tried to bite back.

*Thud-bam!! Crack-crunch!*

“Kyaaak! Guhk!”

After clearing dozens more, Kadim finally saw it: a grand command tent flying the colors of House Adlen. His target was waiting.

“Grraaagh!”

“G-Graaah…”

The moment Kadim stepped through the tent flaps, the screaming outside stopped instantly.

*Thud.* The guards outside dropped dead, just like the others.

Kadim ignored the bodies. His focus was entirely on the figure sitting in the center of the tent, bathed in the flickering light of a lantern.

“You actually made it, you insolent dog of the wastes.”

The voice was cold enough to freeze the blood.

The man sitting there looked like Viscount Adlen, but the soul behind the eyes was gone. The once-noble commander was now a vessel for a feral, predatory malice. He looked like a common thug wearing a lord’s skin.

Kadim wasn’t intimidated. He let out a sharp, mocking snort. An insolent dog? Did the demon expect a barbarian to have manners?

It was typical of the ‘possession-type’ demons; they spoke differently because they had spent lifetimes hopping from one ego to another.

*A ‘possession-type’… what a rare find. I only ran into a couple of these in my previous life.*

The entity inside the Viscount bristled at Kadim’s smirk. It narrowed its eyes in a lethal warning.

“You seem quite proud of that primitive carcass of yours. But learn some humility. Your physical strength is nothing but a gutteral twitch compared to my mastery over the human spirit.”

Kadim said nothing.

“One final chance. Turn around. Leave Molden and its Baron to me. This is my private garden, one I have cultivated for years to produce the perfect, bitter fruit. It is finally time to harvest—do you really think I will let a stray mutt spoil my meal?”

Kadim didn’t care for the villainous monologue. He simply raised his blade and his axe. He had heard enough demon speeches to last several lifetimes. His only response would be the cold edge of his weapons.

The Viscount’s shadow danced wildly against the tent walls. An aura of pure demonic energy began to radiate from him. Kadim felt the pressure on his chest, a sharp burn in his nostrils, and a creeping numbness in his limbs.

The demon bared the Viscount’s teeth.

“You refuse? Then your life is forfeit.”

“Say goodbye to your mind, little dog. Your flesh belongs to me now.”

The demon reached out. A massive wave of dark, psychic energy surged toward Kadim’s consciousness.

The demon’s will tried to dissolve into a formless mist to invade Kadim’s mind, searching for any crack or weakness in his sanity. It moved with a sickening, arrogant confidence. It threw everything it had into the assault, certain that it could seize the barbarian’s body in an instant…

But then, the demon recoiled in horror.

“Wha—what is this?!”

*Thud.* Back in the physical world, the Viscount’s body collapsed. The malice in his eyes was replaced by sheer, unadulterated terror. His face went ghostly white, and he began to shake like a leaf.

“What… what kind of monster are you? Why… why can’t I get inside? Even with all my strength…”

Kadim remained unmoved. He had seen this exact reaction before.

He gave a cruel, knowing grin and whispered.

“Sorry. The seat’s already taken.”

The man who had been forced into the barbarian’s body stepped forward, closing in on the trembling demon.