Evolving: part 3(chapter 93)

previously in chapter 92

This created an even bigger crater, doing much more damage. He tested his speed, running in his true form. In just a matter of seconds, he was approaching 100 mph, without even trying hard. After he was done testing his newfound strength, he was ecstatic. "More, I need to fight more things," he declared as he made his way through Amenth. Every step of his was thunderous, shaking the ground and breaking anything beneath him.

[ a week later ]

Salva stood amidst the barren wasteland of Amenth, his massive 30-foot frame towering over the desolate purple desert. The rocky cliffs and canyons surrounded him, casting long shadows under the dark, thunder-stricken sky. The occasional dead tree dotted the landscape, their gnarled branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The air crackled with energy as thunder struck every few moments, illuminating the grim expanse in brief, blinding flashes.

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Chapter 93

As Salva's eyes adjusted to the dim light far quicker than anything, he saw them approaching: thousands of Amenth daemons, "i have been killing stragglers for the past days, now they finally send an army after me" he chuckled, it has been a week since he arrived in amenth, and he has been doing but devour everything and anything, to the point where he became famous for it, giving him the name the devourer, he killed everything but the things he killed the most was amenth daemons, controlled by annihilation or the genesis, the mother of all arakkoa, and she did not take kindly to his slaughter as evident by the amount of her soldier she sent after him.

 They varied in size and shape, some humanoid, others bipedal monstrosities. Some were small, creeping abominations, while others were hulking behemoths. Most had dark reddish skin and black carapaces covering parts of their bodies. Their eyes—or lack thereof—ranged from one to many, glowing with malevolent intelligence, and they moved with an eerie synchronicity, as if guided by a hive mind.

Salva flexed his claws and bared his sharp fangs, something his body did out of instinct, feeling the surge of his evolved strength coursing through him. He roared,to get their attention, the sound echoing off the canyon walls, and the daemons responded in kind, their own guttural cries filling the air. The battle began with a rush of movement as the daemons charged toward him, wielding black weapons and launching elemental attacks of fire and ice and everything in between.

The first wave of daemons reached him, their black swords and axes swinging. Salva moved with incredible speed for his size, charging through the initial strikes before countering with devastating blows. His claws sliced through the dark armour of the daemons, cleaving them in two. He spun and whipped his tail, sending several daemons flying into the rocky cliffs, where they were crushed upon impact.

A daemon with a single eye and long, sinuous limbs leaped at him, shooting a stream of fire from its mouth. Salva absorbed the heat, feeling it fuel his inner fire, and retaliated with his own breath of scorching flames, incinerating the daemon instantly. Another daemon, this one covered in icy spikes, charged at him from the side, attempting to freeze him solid. Salva roared and smashed his fist into the ground, causing a shockwave that shattered the ice and sent the daemon sprawling.

The daemons kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless. Salva fought with a relentless fury, his movements a blur of destruction. He bit into a daemon's neck, tearing out its throat, and used its lifeless body as a club to smash others. He stomped on the smaller daemons, crushing them underfoot, while his claws and teeth dealt with the larger ones. 

A massive, three-eyed daemon wielding a giant mace lumbered toward him. Salva met its swing head-on, catching the mace with one hand and wrenching it from the daemon's grasp. He then drove his claws into its chest, ripping out its heart and tossing the corpse aside. The ground around him was littered with the bodies of the fallen daemons, their blood soaking into the purple sand.

Despite his overwhelming power, the daemons did not relent. They attacked with coordinated precision, their hive mind directing their every move. A group of flying daemons descended upon him, their wings beating rapidly as they shot spines of black energy. Salva shielded himself with nothing but his scales, the spines bouncing harmlessly off his scales. He then leaped into the air, catching one of the flying daemons and tearing it apart with his teeth. He used the remains as a projectile, hurling it at the others and knocking them out of the sky.

The environment bore the scars of their titanic battle. Craters dotted the landscape where Salva's powerful strikes had hit the ground. The cliffs and canyons were marred with deep gouges and cracks, and the few dead trees that had stood were now shattered splinters. Thunder continued to strike, the booming sound almost drowned out by the roars and cries of the combatants.

A particularly large daemon, covered in dark armor and wielding twin swords of black fire, emerged from the fray. It moved with a speed and agility that belied its size, and its strikes were precise and deadly. Salva met it head-on, their clash causing shockwaves that rippled through the desert. The daemon slashed at him, but Salva parried with his claws, sparks flying as metal met scale. He retaliated with a flurry of blows, but the daemon dodged and weaved, countering with its own attacks.

The battle between them raged, each one matching the other in strength and skill. The daemon managed to land a few hits, its black flames searing Salva's flesh, but he healed almost instantly, his regenerative powers keeping him in the fight. Finally, Salva saw an opening. He feinted a strike with his right claw, and as the daemon moved to block, he lunged with his left, driving his claws deep into its chest. He lifted the daemon off the ground and slammed it down, crushing it beneath his weight.

With the leader defeated, the remaining daemons hesitated, their hive mind disrupted. Salva took advantage of their momentary confusion, unleashing a torrent of fire that swept through their ranks, incinerating hundreds in an instant. He roared triumphantly, his voice echoing across the wasteland, and the surviving daemons fled, their will to fight broken. He then began the cleanup of the battlefield, eating everything. "I should thank her," he thought mid-chomp. "The angrier she gets, the more she sends," he mused as he continued to eat. Despite consuming thousands of daemons, he didn't feel anything; it was as if his stomach was a bottomless pit.

He never got full, nor did he starve, but if he wanted to grow stronger, he would have to consume and consume until there was no room left to grow. After he cleaned up the entire battlefield, Salva, who seemed a little tired of fighting, could be seen just sitting on the edge of a cliff, doing nothing but staring into the abyss. Suddenly, he heard something—a distant whisper, a thudding. "There is...marching," he thought as he lifted his head. "A fight, perhaps," he pondered, then grunted before placing his head back down. "I am tired," he thought to himself. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but remembering his main objectives, he sighed. "Guess there is no rest for the wicked," he thought to himself as he got up, before walking towards the direction from where he heard the marching coming.

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A/N sorry about the no upload yesterday, i had my end of the year exam, but as an apology, i will be uploading a second chapter shortly, so enjoy.