Cucking The Demon King
Chapter 124: A risky move

Chapter 124: A risky move

The strange man watched with a cold smile, his presence weighing heavily on the room.

"You should have known," he murmured, almost lazily. "This was always going to end this way. There was no hope for you."

Emerald’s grip on her sword tightened.

’Don’t listen to him,’ she thought, pushing back the sense of helplessness that was starting to creep in. ’I won’t give up.’

Her thoughts raced as she scanned the room for any way out. The situation was spiraling out of control, and she knew they couldn’t last much longer.

All she had to do was find the artifact, the same one they were using to seal her blessing.

If only she could find it and destroy it, or deactivate it, then she would easily be able to conjure a portal and escape this place.

With a sharp breath, she turned her attention back to the strange man. His confidence was unnerving, but she had to push through it.

He was the key to this fight. If they could take him down, maybe—just maybe—the rest would fall.

But the shadow creatures were everywhere now, shifting and moving with frightening precision.

Every time she struck at one, it seemed to slip away, vanishing back into the shadows, only to reappear somewhere else.

"Why do you keep on running, dont be a coward and face me." Emerald said, narrowing her eyes at the man.

The strange man’s laugh echoed around the room. "You think I’m running? No, that’s wrong. I’m just toying with you, isn’t it fun?"

He chuckled again, stretching his arms wide at the side.

"It sure is fun!" He answered his own question, letting out another maniacal laughter. "It feels so good to break down idiots like you, from the church."

Emerald’s teeth ground together. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them falter.

She was a proud knight of the church, and one thing knights didn’t do was give up in the face of adversity.

But the battle was slipping away. The girls were overwhelmed, and the shadow creatures’ power seemed endless.

The heretics were closing in as well, their movements calculated, their attacks growing more dangerous by the second.

Elsa and Cynthia were already exhausted, their movements slowing. Lela’s speed had faltered, and she had barely avoided another attack. It wasn’t enough.

’I’m supposed to watch over them, but I can’t even do anything.’ She thought, gnashing her teeth.

Emerald turned back to the strange man, a fire burning in her chest. "We’ll never give in," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart.

The shadowy figure only smiled, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "We’ll see about that," he replied, his voice filled with the certainty of someone who already knew the outcome.

Emerald’s eyes narrowed. She had to fight—there was no other choice.

And yet, despite her resolve, the odds were still against them. There was no denying the truth. Their chances were slim.

Even with all their power, they couldn’t keep up with the strength of the shadow creatures and the overwhelming presence of the strange man.

The room seemed to close in on them, the darkness pressing in tighter with every passing second. The heretics were drawing closer, their attacks more precise. The shadow creatures were everywhere, relentless in their assault.

Emerald’s heart raced.

’No,’ she thought desperately. ’I can’t let it end like this.’

But as the shadow creatures closed in on her, her resolve began to waver. They had no choice. There was no way out.

And the strangest thing was, she wasn’t sure if she hated the man for his cruel taunts or for the fact that, deep down, she knew he was right.

This battle was over.

But not yet.

Not yet.

While she was still wallowing in her thoughts, the shadow creature suddenly surged forward.

They twisted through the air with movements too fluid to be natural.

They didn’t run—they glided, floated, swirled like living shadows with razor-sharp intentions. Each of them radiated power. Heavy, cold, suffocating power.

And then came the heretics, screaming after them like madmen.

"This is it! Your end!" one of them bellowed—dark fire erupting from his feet as he launched himself ahead like a missile.

The rest cackled madly behind him, brandishing jagged weapons pulsing with corruption. Their bloodlust was palpable. Unfiltered. Insane.

Elsa, Lela, and Cynthia took a subconscious step back.

Their minds were spinning. Their hands trembled, even if only slightly.

They didn’t want to show it—but Emerald saw it all.

Every flicker of doubt.

Every twitch of panic.

She could see it on their faces. On their shoulders. In the tiny shifts of their stances.

Fear.

Real, crawling, suffocating fear.

And for good reason. There were ten of them now. Five heretics... and five shadow creatures that oozed danger with every wisp of movement.

Their slim odds had just become near-impossible.

But Emerald didn’t let herself waver.

She stepped in front of her team, her boots scraping against the broken stone floor.

The white blade in her hand hummed with mana as she poured more of herself into it. The glow along its edge deepened. Her eyes narrowed, glowing faintly with resolve.

"I won’t fall to a bunch of good-for-nothing heretics!" she shouted.

And then she moved.

The dark fire heretic had been coming for her—fast, reckless, confident.

He didn’t expect the sheer speed of her counter.

Her blade cleaved downward in a perfect arc—slicing through the fire-wreathed man in a clean, brutal stroke.

There was a choked sound.

A spray of blood.

Then a heavy thud as the man’s body split open from shoulder to waist, crumpling to the floor in a twitching, silent heap.

In just a strike from her, a practitioner mage was struck dead.

The other heretics froze.

Their eyes widened in disbelief, and her breath caught in their throats.

The madness in their faces faltered for a second as they stared at their fallen comrade. At the crimson pooling beneath his corpse. At the cold, focused knight who’d killed him.

Even the shadow creatures paused.

And behind them all, the cloaked figure tilted his head slightly.

"Impressive indeed," he murmured, voice touched with amusement.

Then he chuckled again.

It wasn’t loud.

But it echoed. Deep and sharp like broken glass.

Emerald didn’t lower her sword. She didn’t turn to look at him. Her eyes remained on the enemies in front.

But inside, her mind spun with grim calculations.

The heretics had only been Practitioner-levels. She knew that now. Their movements, their auras—they were dangerous, yes. But manageable.

The main problem were the shadow soldiers, and even she was confused about how she was meant to deal with five at the same time.

And she knew—if they didn’t find a way to tilt the battlefield back in their favor, this fight would only end one way.

With their corpses in the dirt.

Her jaw clenched.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She wouldn’t let that happen.

The laughter from the shadowy man faded into silence, replaced by a low hum of interest.

"Well, well," he said, his voice smooth and almost amused. "I didn’t expect you to be capable of that, Emerald."

Emerald’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He knew her name.

That didn’t come as a complete shock—he clearly knew of their mission, of what they were after, and more importantly, how to trap them. Still, hearing her name pass through his lips made her stomach twist.

’He’s not just some brute,’ she thought. ’He’s well connected... I wonder how much information I would be able to extract from him.’

If they managed to take him down, their mission might very much be over, but unfortunately, that was easier said than done.

Her grip on the sword tightened.

She could still feel the weight of mana flowing through her body—slow, heavy, and merciless.

What she’d done just now, channeling her mana directly into the blade to pierce the dark fire heretic, wasn’t something just anyone could pull off.

It was a technique reserved for trained knights. A technique that was meant to be used in case of the unavailability of blessings.

And one that came with a price.

Normally, mana was channeled safely through one’s blessing—an external conduit gifted by divine grace. It was natural. Fluid. The body barely felt the burden.

But channeling mana through the veins?

That was different.

That was dangerous.

It took months, even years of rigorous training to even attempt. The veins were delicate, and mana wasn’t forgiving.

One wrong movement, one flicker of misalignment in her flow, and her veins could rupture. If the mana forced its way back toward the heart...

It would be over.

Instantly.

The technique was called Direct Mana Control, mainly because one was directly tampering with mana.

Emerald clenched her jaw, feeling the heat bubbling beneath her skin.

Her muscles screamed under the weight of the energy she forced through them.

It was like holding a sword made of lightning, knowing that at any moment, one slip would fry her from the inside out.

But she had no choice.

Her blessing was sealed. And they were surrounded.

This was the only way.

Even now, her fingers twitched slightly from the strain. Her breathing was calm, but her body was fraying.

’Keep it steady...’ she thought. ’Just a bit longer...’

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