Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!
Chapter 187: I Need Plot Armor!

Chapter 187: I Need Plot Armor!

It wasn’t that Creed was a coward.

Not really. Not in the way the word usually meant.

He had run headfirst into an unexplored rift as a stage 1. He’d dueled with beasts three stages stronger than him.

He could he said to be both crazy and courageous.

But right now?

Creed was flying like a man who had just been told his pants were on fire and that the flames were made of taxes!

Why?

Because Creed knew one soul-chilling, very specific, absolutely plot-altering fact about himself.

He was cursed!

Not the "bad luck" kind of curse where your shoelaces snap or your crush ignores your texts. No.

This was the "a beast king with the power of a thousand nightmares wants to erase your entire family tree" kind of curse.

As he streaked through the skies like a panicked comet, he looked at the back of his left hand.

There, half-hidden under his gloves but still faintly pulsing, was a black mark, so subtle it looked like a birthmark to anyone else.

But not to him.

"Oh hell no," Creed muttered under his breath, rubbing the mark as if sheer irritation could make it vanish. "Not today, Satan’s pigeon. Not today."

Every nerve in his body was telling him the same thing: the beast king that cursed him was here.

Not maybe. Not soon.

Now.

He wasn’t dumb enough to think he could fight a beast king. Not even close.

Diamond-level awakened who were the true monsters needed to team up just to survive against one. Not win. Just survive.

That was how horrifying beast kings were. They weren’t regular enemies. They were natural disasters that had decided to walk!

So, yes. He was running.

Running like the freaking wind.

And if anyone had a problem with that, they could fight the skyscraper-sized eagle themselves and see how long their bravery lasted.

To hell with dignity.

Creed didn’t care if he looked like the most terrified idiot in the sky. He had plans, dreams, and most importantly, a 20 member harem to build.

He was not going to become bird chow for some overgrown roast chicken with a bad attitude and glowing red eyes.

The funny thing? He wasn’t the only one.

Because right after the beast king’s aura fully descended, a wave of pressure so thick and heavy that it felt like the entire sky was being dragged down by invisible chains, every other silver-level awakened did the exact same thing.

They turned.

They ran.

One second they were glorious defenders of the bastion, clashing with beast lords in the sky like noble heroes.

The next? They were outpacing sound with looks of pure "nope" on their faces!

Even the elite soldiers of the DMA, who had seemed like unshakable warriors a few moments ago, began retreating with sharp barks of order and discipline.

But let’s be real, nobody looked cool while running for their lives.

Sirens howled across the entire bastion. Red lights spun from the turrets and towers.

"EVACUATION PROTOCOL BETA-OMEGA IS NOW IN EFFECT. PLEASE PROCEED TO EMERGENCY CARRIERS IMMEDIATELY."

Creed didn’t wait. He reached to his chest where Meredith’s summon mark glowed and shouted, "Meredith—return!"

A flash of light, and the succubus vanished back into the inky tattoo etched across his heart.

"No offense, Meredith," he muttered as he flipped open his phone mid-flight and searched for the nearest bastion, "but you’d melt in about 30 seconds if you stayed out here."

The Infernal Ice Bastion shrank behind him. He passed the outer dome, passed the massive gates, passed the last defense turrets firing wildly at the forest line.

He should’ve felt safe.

He did not.

Because even as he flew, flashes of multicolored light flaring from his body with everything he had, a deep shuddering tremor rolled through his bones.

Not the kind you feel in your ears. The kind you feel in your soul.

He dared to look back.

And what he saw almost made him forget how to fly.

The forest exploded.

Trees snapped like matchsticks. The air twisted. The light bent.

And out of the massive crater of destruction stepped a creature that shouldn’t exist.

An eagle, or at least something shaped like one, so massive that its wings could blot out cities.

Its feathers shimmered with an eerie crimson glow, like fire frozen in place. Its talons cracked the earth with every step. Its eyes burned like twin suns doused in blood.

And its presence?

It made death feel polite.

The people left in the bastion froze in place. Some collapsed, some wept, most just stood there, quietly realizing they were already dead.

Creed?

He was still flying, but now screaming internally.

’Dear reader, This might be the last time I narrate anything!’

’If I die today, just know I was handsome, hilarious, and had way too many plot threads unresolved!’

He didn’t just channel his Wings of Freedom. He poured every drop of Will, Aura, and Force into them.

His body bent light. His skin shimmered. He became a beam of multicolored brilliance, zooming across the sky like a man powered by caffeine, terror, and main character energy.

He could feel himself breaking the speed limit of common sense, leaving behind sonic booms like candy wrappers.

Until—

SCREEEECH!!!

The Beast King screamed.

It was not a sound.

It was a weapon.

The air shattered around him. Windows cracked in every apartment. Whole flocks of birds disintegrated mid-flight. Buildings crumbled at the edges. His phone screen shattered just from being nearby.

And that wave of raw sonic death? It was heading right for Creed!

He looked back mid-flight.

Saw the pulse of red and black rushing toward him like a tsunami of violence.

And all he could think was:

’Oh come on! I don’t even have a will written yet!’

Rumble!

The screech landed.

It didn’t feel like sound.

It felt like a truck made of explosions had smashed into Creed’s entire existence. The shockwave hit him like a sledgehammer to the soul. It was sharp, deafening, unstoppable.

It shattered the clouds, twisted the sky into a storm of colors, and turned the peaceful silence of the forest below into a cacophony of splintering wood, flying leaves, and exploding animals.

Creed had been moving at maximum speed, light trailing behind him like a comet with anxiety issues.

But the moment that sonic tsunami touched him, his instincts screamed louder than the roar.

He activated Path of the Mountain and at once, a faint mountain mirage shimmered into being around his body.

Oooom!

The illusion was barely visible, like a giant ghostly mountain hovering over his back, but it carried the weight of an immovable giant.

At the same time, he pulled everything else out of his bag of tricks. Aura flooded his body, strengthening his muscles, fortifying his skin, making every cell vibrate with desperate resolve.

It was far weaker than the Path of the Mountain, but right now, anything helped. He even squeezed his abs like it might help tank the impact, though he wasn’t sure if it was bravery or dumb habit from too many workouts.

The attack landed, and his world broke.

Bang!

The mountain mirage cracked like glass.

His aura shattered like a dropped phone screen.

His whole body went numb, and then a millisecond later, pain erupted like a firework of agony.

Then he was flying, but not the cool kind. The helpless, screaming-inside kind.

He shot backward like a human bullet, streaking through the sky before smashing through the first tree. Then another. Then another. And another.

Tree trunks snapped around him like cheap twigs, and every time his body bounced off the ground, it tore another crater.

When he finally stopped, he was upside down in a pile of shredded earth, half a tree jammed into the dirt beside his head, and one of his legs was mysteriously bent.

He coughed, spitting out a mix of blood and what might have been a tooth.

"Okay..." he gasped, blinking through the stars in his vision. "Okay, that happened."

His ears were ringing. His vision was flickering. His spine felt like it had filed for early retirement. But he was alive.

Barely.

"That... was just a roar."

The realization hit him like another punch. Just one screech, not even a real attack, just a casual flex of the beast king’s vocal cords, and it had nearly reduced him to pudding with regrets.

If he hadn’t activated the Path of the Mountain when he did, he would’ve been vaporized. It wasn’t just terrifying.

It was hopeless.

"If that thing sneezes on me, I’ll explode," he muttered, trying to lift his aching arms. His hands were trembling, and even breathing hurt. ’I need plot armor. Now. Please.’

His thoughts spiraled as he imagined a mysterious old master descending from the clouds.

Or maybe an even bigger monster showing up to fight the eagle. Or maybe Meredith somehow ascending into a goddess and stopping the battle with a kiss of death.

Nothing happened.

The sky stayed blue.

The trees kept burning.

No godly savior. No divine twist. Just Creed; a bleeding, half-conscious, overdramatic Silver level awakened with a very real death problem.

But even while his thoughts screamed in memes and comedy skits, his core remained calm. Hyper-focused. The fear had not frozen him. It had refined him.

His brain worked at lightning speed, just a little slower than his legs. Analyzing. Calculating. Strategizing.

The beast king was beyond any opponent he’d ever imagined. Too fast. Too powerful. Too angry. There was no fighting it. Only one option remained, run faster.

Still groaning from the pain, Creed forced himself to move faster. His muscles screamed, his vision tilted, but he continued to push. "No rest," he whispered. "If I stop, I die."

High above, the sky began to dim again.

Creed turned his head and saw something scary.

The eagle beast king had spread its wings.

And they were even larger now, like two continents colliding with the sky itself. Each beat of its wings made the air bend and the light twist.

Its feathers glowed red like magma trapped inside glass, and its eyes, those burning, eternal eyes, locked directly onto Creed.

Then it screeched again.

SCREEEEEEEEEEECH!

This time, it didn’t hold back.

The full strength of a Beast King’s fury poured into the sound.

Creed didn’t hear it.

He felt it.

It came like a tide of annihilation, pressure so massive that the clouds above got ripped apart like tissue paper.

The very air ignited, bursting into waves of color and heat. The ground split, shockwaves rolling through the earth like earthquakes made of sound.

Back at the Infernal Ice Bastion, the energy barrier shuddered.

Cracks raced across the shimmering shield like spiderwebs across glass.

Then...

BOOM!

The barrier exploded outward with a flash of desperate defense. It had protected the people inside, barely.

The screech’s full brunt had been blocked... this time. But even the untrained inside the bastion now realized:

One more of those... and everything would end.

Meanwhile, Creed was being dragged through hell.

The screech felt like a hammer was slamming into his skull over and over again. Blood poured from his ears. His legs shook. His consciousness started to fade.

But he kept moving.

He didn’t know how.

Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was sheer spite. Maybe it was the fear of dying before getting a 20 member harem.

Whatever it was, it kept his body moving.

Step after step, flight after broken flight, he moved.

His lungs were burning. His vision was dim. But the one thing louder than the Beast King’s roar was the voice in his head screaming:

"RUN."

The eagle let out another furious glare, but this time, Creed didn’t fall.

He stumbled.

He coughed.

He kept going.

And that made the beast king even angrier.

It stared at the tiny, injured speck that had somehow not died from its godlike screams. A being so insignificant, so weak, so cursed.

And yet... alive.

The eagle spread its wings again, but this time, it didn’t screech.

It vanished.

One instant, it was in the sky.

The next, it was gone.

Not hidden.

Not flying away.

Just gone, like the world couldn’t contain its presence anymore.

And for the first time in his life, Creed felt something even more terrifying than a Beast King’s roar:

He didn’t know where it went!

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