36 First Encounter (2)

An unexpected encounter. It was the first and only thought that crossed Lilith's mind. This city was quite large, and she hadn't expected to meet him, but on this day, they crossed paths in a wide alleyway flanked by two tall apartment complexes, both clad in bricks. Lilith curled her lips in displeasure.

No anger, no sadness—just the unsettling feeling of seeing the man who abandoned her resurface in her heart. The man who had forced her onto this dreadful and ruthless path of a demon—a path that she didn't take long to become accustomed to.

Her mind was in a daze, unsure of what to think. Unwanted memories flooded her mind, engulfing her in the pain of the past. The abandonment, loneliness, hunger, and beatings—the enslavement—all came back to her, stabbing her through the heart.

She didn't let these emotions and memories rise. Instead, she pushed and molded them back into the container that held them. The container was small—too small, in fact. But she managed to squeeze it in and then slammed the lid shut.

When she regained her composure, she was able to see something she hadn't considered much at first. Damon wielded his sword, harnessing not only the power of the wind, but also the power of fire. The flames also seemed familiar. 'Was it what caused the flame pillar? He's the cause of everything.'

Whether he was or not, it had nothing to do with her. Her attention returned to Damon.

"My identity? That doesn't matter."

"Alright, Fiend."

With fiends wreaking havoc all over the city, fewer humans would resort to killing one another, and even fewer would target those known throughout the city for their strength. It was more likely for them to collaborate and fight for survival than to fight amongst themselves.

She was not an ally who came to his aid. She had come with hidden motives. It was also unsurprising that Damon could deduce her identity from her actions against him. That much was obvious without needing to see her appearance or the distinctive features that Fiends shared.

"Whether human or fiend, it doesn't matter. I would still kill you. It's only right to defend myself against those who exude a strong intent to harm me. What I've done to make you feel this way—there's no memory of meeting you, but it seems we have crossed paths. I imagine I did something to you in the past, and you came back for revenge. Is that right?"

"…"

This was to be expected. It was easy to guess her motive, as she was certain this wasn't the first time someone had come to take his life, and if she didn't kill him today, it wouldn't be the last.

"How pathetic can you be?"

As he stared at Lilith, she scowled. The words used were provocative. With this, he clearly intended to provoke a reaction or response from her. And it worked, more or less. A flame deep within her grew and burned brighter. But she didn't let it grow any more or burst.

She couldn't let her emotions overwhelm her at this moment, as she faced Damon, the person who had scarred her the most. Letting her emotions fuel and control her would trap her in an inescapable situation. Damon was strong—stronger than when she last met him. The aura he emitted was a clear indication. For her to win, she would need to keep a calm and collected head.

She didn't believe she would lose so one-sidedly as she had before, given her demonic physique was stronger than any hunter at her level. However, with his rapid increase in strength, there was no certainty. With a powerful push off the ground, she focused on reaching her enemy in an instant.

Lilith's body blurred, causing a brief flicker of surprise to appear on Damon's face. It was amazing speed, considering that her aura, though veiled, was only D-rank, but it wasn't impossible. He assumed that she must have been contracted to a demonic god who further enhanced her physical strength with the addition of the Fiend's physique. Lilith's speed did not provoke any fear or reaction in him; his sharp senses detected the subtle disturbances in the air. Without hesitation, he deflected the incoming dagger with his sword.

Lilith had used all of her strength in her attack, but despite her forty-seven stat points in strength, her blow was blocked by the simple action of the opponent lifting his scorching sword with one hand. Naturally, there were no bulging veins on his wrist or sounds of struggle from Damon.

"I'm impressed." A smile lit across Damon's face.

Demons are inherently stronger than humans, with their standard physical strength being double that of humans, and increasing with each evolution. Their physical strength was not their only asset; they were also more skilled with energy and had a greater abundance of it. They didn't need to make a pact with gods or rely on borrowed power to fight and protect themselves. The demons, who were at the peak of their race, were able to rival the strongest of the Divine Gods in many aspects.

Lilith thought her physical strength would at least be able to push him back, if not match his. She didn't expect the difference to be this significant, but it wasn't too hard to believe since he was B-rank. The disparity between races within the same rank was significant, but it became impossible to make comparisons between two different ranks. Physical strength, agility, and endurance are essential for this task. She could not match him in any of those areas.

There were two underlying factors she could capitalize on. Whether his stamina reserves were depleted from his previous fights, and if he would take her seriously.

With this in mind, she preferred small movements and nimble footwork over a rapid and aggressive fighting style, aiming to gain the maximum advantage possible. It was a fighting style that specialized in confronting stronger opponents.

Lilith dodged Damon's attack, narrowly avoiding his scorching sword, which missed her and cut off a few strands of her hair. With skillful proficiency, she avoided and blocked his attacks, ensuring that her blind spots were protected and, at times, launching counterattacks of her own. Her actions were direct yet effective, provoking his aggression. In many ways, it had become difficult for Damon to believe that she was only a D-Ranker, especially when considering her Fiends' physique.

The Fiend was a D-Ranker, and yet she was able to defend herself. Although she was unable to launch further attacks, she managed to survive for now. In other words, he was struggling to make a significant impact that could change the course of the battle. He had come close at times, but she always moved at the last moment. Until now, that was the case.

Feeling a chill run down her spine, Lilith hastily jumped backward, abandoning the rhythm she had been struggling to maintain. However, Damon's sword was faster.

Damon's attack never pierced Lilith's skin. Instead, the scorching sword, covered in a thick layer of divine energy, was used as a blunt weapon over the flames.

"Gah!"

From the impact, Lilith was slammed into a brick wall. Since she had been revived and turned into a demon, this was the first time that her body had been this severely injured. There was the battle against Pomien, the Skeletoul, but it wasn't this bad. As Lilith gasped for air, her chest heaving harder and harder, an uncomfortable pain surged inside her chest.

As she spat out blood, she raised her head. Her loosened grip on her daggers tightened as she felt the stinging pain in her arms. Her arms weren't broken, but they had scratches and minor injuries, which stiffened her arms.

The minor injuries were nothing. They were an irritation, but they didn't hinder her fighting ability much. On the other hand, her broken ribs and internal bleeding did. With this wound, she won't be able to hold on much longer. She did what she could do at the given moment—first aid, a half-assed version of it.

Using eldritch energy, she soothed the pain and stopped the bleeding. The pain had disappeared, and the blood had stopped leaking from her lips. Now, as long as her eldritch energy didn't run dry, she would be fine.

Lilith no longer felt she could win this battle—not in her current state, that is. Rather than winning, her intention shifted to survival and, if possible, though not likely, dealing a blow to him.