Threat from the Skies

The demon was in sight.

In the rustic expanses of Loman, Noah, Rocher, and Tibert, along with a few attendants and mercenaries, sought cover in a small patch of forest, craning their necks to behold the winged demon wreaking havoc above. They kept the main force of the army on standby, ready to support if a conflict arose here, careful not to startle the beast.

To Noah, the demon was a living nightmare—a sight so daunting that a timid soldier, after one glimpse, could no longer bear it, retreating rapidly with a low whimper, indistinguishable from an animal in distress.

It possessed inky wings akin to a bat's, a long tail with a barbed tip, a short neck, and robust limbs; its forearms were muscular, and its hind legs bore talons as fierce as an eagle's, perfect for snatching its victims from the ground.

Curiously, something hung from the demon's back, and its head bore heavy metal—clearly not a natural part of its anatomy. What could it be? Noah pondered.

"Take it down," Rocher commanded, "end this torment."

"At once," Tibert immediately set his men to ready the ballista. "Gannix, man the 'Blood Bride.' Give that monster an unforgettable kiss."

"Right away," a stoic red-haired man, eager for action, strode to the ballista. "Adjust fifteen degrees east," he directed, and the mercenaries rotated the ballista to align its trajectory with the demon's flight path.

Noah surveyed the destruction that trailed the demon—a landscape once home to happy families was now drenched in blood. The remains of farmers, victims of the demon's appetite, were strewn across the path, their bodies reduced to mere portions, their livestock gutted and hollowed out.

His resolve hardened as he watched, wishing for the mercenaries' arrow to find its mark despite their hostility toward him.

Rocher watched the demon intently, her grip on the sword tightening as if to grasp at hope itself.

But the task was difficult.

"It won't hit," Gladius laughed. "Ha, it's a flying demon."

"Don't underestimate humanity," Noah gritted his teeth.

Gannix, operating the ballista, took careful aim at the winged demon. Suddenly, seizing the perfect moment, he pulled the lever with all his might.

Boom!

Before Noah's eyes unfolded a marvel of engineering. The taut crossbow string, filled with pent-up force, was released, catapulting the specially crafted bolt across the air with a shrill whistle, aimed straight at the demon's grotesque wings.

The shot was true!

"Good!" Tibert punched the air in triumph, glancing smugly at Noah.

Noah's eyes widened.

The bolt shot with incredible speed, reaching the demon in a blink. But, with an unexpected twist, the demon rolled in the air, its giant form contorting in an attempt to evade. The bolt struck where its wing had been a moment before, slicing through nothing but air and falling helplessly to the ground.

Groans of dismay echoed around, and Tibert, looking up at the unscathed demon, trembled.

"Reload," he ordered.

"We need to run!" the mercenaries cried out.

No wonder they panicked—the demon was diving toward them.

Flapping its wings, the demon glided closer. Now Noah could make out the objects on its body.

A massive iron mask covered its face, corroded and devoid of any opening—an absolute shield against its malevolent visage, sparing mortals from its frightful countenance. Around its back and ribs, heavy chains wound tight, iron spikes piercing its flesh, weighing it down—a restraint placed by demon hunters.

Despite such burdens, the demon moved with ease, even performing agile maneuvers in the sky. What agility might it possess if unshackled?

"If we had an army of demons, this one could serve as a vanguard..." Gladius appraised.

"Waaaaah—" As the demon swooped down, people screamed in terror.

Rocher inhaled deeply, readying herself for battle, but Noah could see she lacked confidence in victory.

"Load, load! Let me shoot again!" Gannix was frantic, tugging at his companion to assist, but the mercenary shook him off and fled without looking back.

"Don't aim, just run!" Tibert screamed.

Noah watched as the winged demon, black as night and large as a small house, approached swiftly.

"Astral Phantom!" Noah concentrated, shouting the incantation.

Bang!

The demon, wings stretched wide, gliding with the current, was caught off-guard as the once loyal air turned chaotic, hit by an unseen force that buckled its wings and sent it tumbling backward. It plummeted, narrowly skimming the ground, before flapping desperately to rise again.

"What?"

"My god—"

"This?"

"He's a demon hunter!"

The soldiers, hearing the strange gust, turned to see the once menacing demon now floundering awkwardly in the air, stiff as a puppet, struggling to right itself. They gaped in awe at Noah's silhouette.

"The hunter..." Rocher held her sword tightly, one of the few brave enough to watch, "Such tremendous power."

Tibert, about to flee, noticed the sudden shift and became frantic.

"Pier! Don't run! Tarkin! Get back here, load up, load up! Gannix! Aim at it! Don't miss this time!"

The Fells crossbow unit, their spirits lifted, rushed to the ballista and began the arduous task of reloading. Risking strained muscles, they cranked the winch, drawing the sturdy string back, their courage surging anew. Like Noah once did, they began to grasp the gravity of hunting demons.

"You were right. Demons aren't like dragons," Tibert wiped the sweat from his brow.

Noah remained silent, eyes locked on the demon's flight path. It surged upward, flying past overhead and toward their rear.

It's leaving? Noah spun around, his heart pounding out of his chest, fear clouding his thoughts. No—It can't be allowed to get through, not there...

With urgency, Noah dashed through the forest and stumbled into the open fields behind them.

The soldiers, stationed there, pointed and panicked at the sight of the demon. Archers swiftly drew their bows, loosing a volley of arrows at the winged assailant. Dozens of projectiles arced toward the beast.

Though it tried to evade, it couldn't dodge them all.

But that didn't mean the attack was effective. Arrows bit shallowly into the demon's hide, more deflected off its demonic body, tumbling weakly to the ground.

Was a human army truly powerless against a demon? Noah had harbored some hope that these trained soldiers could fight the demon, but now, it seemed they lacked even the ability to defend themselves.

Noah glanced back. The mercenaries struggled to calm their distressed horses, pulling the heavy ballista into position for another shot, but they seemed too far from ready.

A series of screams pierced the air—the demon had plunged into the midst of the soldiers. They raised their shields to fend it off, but the demon's wings beat once, and the men were knocked down, bloodied and dazed. Then, like a hawk snatching a fish, it seized a soldier and soared upward.

"Help—Help—" The soldier's cries ceased as he was butchered mid-air. With one claw gripping his abdomen and the other his head, the demon twisted violently, tearing off his head and then crushing it. Instantly, his spine, innards, and blood burst from the severed neck, scattering across the ground, raining blood below.

The gathered soldiers stood aghast at the horrific sight, their hearts seized with dread. The demon's iron mask, cold and merciless, flung the lifeless body to the ground with a thud, absorbing the victim's soul and conjuring a greenish hellfire in its palm.

"Scatter..." Noah felt powerless.

The hellfire morphed into a flaming orb, hurled toward the crowded ranks of the army. As it exploded on impact, flames engulfed the area, knocking down a dozen men, their bodies consumed by fire. The air filled with cries, screams, and the clamor of panicked retreat.

Prox shouted for calm, and upon seeing Noah on the grassy slope, he spurred his horse in his direction.

"The demon! It's a demon! Think of something!" he wailed in fright.

The winged demon descended, as if to flaunt its might before Noah, its claw snatching Prox from his horse. Prox wrestled futilely beneath the talon, blood gushing from his mouth, his eyes despairingly searching for Noah.

"Are you a hunter?" the demon asked in a raspy voice.

"I've come to kill you," Noah quickly pulled out a magic rope and threw it toward the demon, the noose flying toward its feet.

"I despise you. So much. Nights of torment." The demon flung its arm, Prox's screams cut short as he was hurled to the ground, his skull shattering on impact. Noah grimaced as his rope missed.

Unsuccessful! Noah felt a wave of disappointment.

But to his amazement, the winged demon swiftly descended, deliberately extending its talon into the noose. As the rope found its target, it swiftly wound around the demon's leg.

Why would it willingly get caught...

"Fool, you've been played," Gladius taunted.

What did Blade demon mean by that?—

Noah felt a titanic pull; the demon beat its wings, soaring higher. Clutching the magic rope, Noah was suddenly yanked upward, flung into the sky.

It's over, he thought.