Lord of Caldera

Chapter 77

In the depths of the dark night, a demon's eyes gleamed menacingly. It had sensed the signal it had been waiting for all along.

"Has that woman finally fallen asleep?"

The demon was an incubus by nature. Whenever someone fell asleep, it could instinctively sense it, and this time was no exception. The target it had been watching all along was its nemesis—the woman that humans called a saint—who had finally succumbed to slumber.

"Heh, mortals are still limited, after all."

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No matter how much divine power a human could wield against a demon, in the end, they were still beings of flesh and blood. They couldn't survive without sleep. She had managed to hold out for three long days, but this was her limit. Yet, the demon had no intention of ending things here.

"It's still too early to rest."

A black mist swirled around the demon, rushing towards the central district of Valtor City. It was eager to make the humans experience agony once more. Surely, when the humans screamed in pain, the saint would awaken. She wouldn't have time to rest, forced to spend her days sleepless once again.

And when she was finally too weak to even resist, that's when the demon would savor her suffering.

"Come now, humans! Scream in agony! All of it feeds my power!"

With a chilling laugh, the demon's mist poured into the central district. Soon, unbearable torment would engulf the city. Just the thought of the pandemonium about to unfold sent shivers of pleasure through the demon.

"Hahaha! Scream, humans! Wake the saint from her slumber and...?"

Snoring!

The demon, who had been gleefully shouting, realized something was off. Even though the mist had reached the humans, they were sleeping far too peacefully. Not only were they not in pain, but they didn't even furrow their brows in discomfort.

"What the... what's going on here?!"

Confused, the demon approached the humans. Had the saint done something? Or was it those knights hanging around her? Holy water, a barrier, or some ancient ritual, perhaps? Had they found a way to counter it? The demon gritted its teeth and poured even more power into the mist.

"If that's the case, I'll rip through their minds directly!"

"We eventually won, but it was mostly luck."

If things had gone slightly worse, not only would the saint's group have been wiped out, but the knights of the Corleone family, including Ulrich, would have perished as well. After that incident, Ulrich, who had always been eager to be at the forefront, became reluctant to visit dangerous areas in person.

"How are the people faring?" Lydia asked.

"After finally getting some sleep, they seem to have regained some of their strength," one of her companions responded.

"That's good to hear."

"But there's no time to waste. If we don't find and defeat the demon soon, this will all happen again."

Sylas, one of Lydia's companions, nodded in agreement. They could only trick the people into taking the drug, disguised as a potion, so many times. Unless they dealt with the demon, it would be an endless cycle. But there was a problem with the current situation.

"If I leave this area, the mist will engulf the people again," Lydia pointed out.

"If only we and the other knights move..."

"I don't mean to underestimate you, but there are very limited means to effectively fight a demon. Even if you encounter it, you won't have the necessary firepower."

They might be able to wound the demon, but it would only retreat and heal itself. Unless they could kill it outright, confronting the demon would be meaningless. The only one with the power to deliver such a blow was Lydia, the saint herself.

"The best solution would be to bless your weapons with a strong enchantment, but..."

"Is that possible?" Sylas asked.

"It is... but it would require an immense amount of divine power."

Already, Lydia was using a large amount of her strength to keep the demon from entering the central district. If she used her power to bless their weapons, she would be too weak to fight the demon herself. And if the blessing wasn't powerful enough, it would be as good as useless.

"Heh... checkmate, isn't it?"

A mocking voice came from the cursed sword hanging at Sylas's waist, its tone dripping with sarcasm. It was clear what the sword meant: What will you do now?

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