Rearing Demons
Chapter 53: Battlefield of Pus and Blood

Chapter 53: Battlefield of Pus and Blood

Standing above the horde of demons, Velmira gazed down with a calm expression.

I’m much stronger after consuming those humans.

She was far from her peak, but now strong enough to hold her own against a Kyrrath. Killing a demi-Valgath was out of the question—but fighting one? That was possible.

You—escape when you see an opening.

Gra! (I will!)

Jisvruul didn’t hesitate. He had no concern for Velmira’s fate—his only priority was Yur. Everything else was secondary.

Jisvruul, make sure to grab a few Gralith before escaping. And take those two Luminous Heart humans as well.

Though Yur couldn’t see the battlefield, Zul fed him the necessary details.

Understood!

Jisvruul waited, his predatory gaze locked onto the two Luminous Heart cultivators frozen by Velmira’s aura—along with the Gralith standing before them.

Meanwhile, Velmira moved first.

"Let’s get this over with."

She exhaled, stepping forward. Her feet pressed against the air as if walking on an invisible surface, then—

She launched herself toward the Husked Lord.

"RAAA!"

The decayed demon reacted instantly, its tattered wings bursting open as it flung itself toward her.

A head-on clash.

Velmira twisted mid-air, narrowly dodging the gnarled claws that swiped inches from her body. Her nails elongated, gleaming like razors—

SHRRIP!

She slashed through one of the demon’s wings, sending it thrashing wildly as it tried to stabilize itself.

"One down."

Her eyes snapped toward the second Husked Lord—

She charged.

"RAA RAA!"

With a furious growl, the demon swung its rotting hand.

THWACK!

Velmira didn’t dodge in time.

The impact sent her spiraling through the air. Cracks split across her ribs, but she bit back a scream.

GO NOW, IDIOT!

Her roar shook Jisvruul from his trance.

He didn’t reply—he acted.

"ARAAA!"

His shriek ripped through the battlefield, forcing the two Luminous Heart disciples to clutch their ears as blood leaked from their eardrums.

With his wings torn away, Jisvruul couldn’t fly—so he sprinted, using his monstrous legs to bound forward at terrifying speed.

"AH! It’s coming!"

The two saw the demon racing toward them—their faces drained of color.

They were wounded. Weak. There was no escape.

"Miss Ris—HELP!"

They turned to the only person who could save them.

But Ris was gone.

"Where—where did she go?!"

Panic spread across their expressions.

"She was just here!"

They didn’t know.

The moment Velmira launched her first attack, Ris fled.

No hesitation. No remorse.

"Dammit...!"

The disciples clenched their weapons, knowing their fate was sealed.

Even trembling, they stood their ground.

They had to survive.

"ARAAA!"

Jisvruul’s maw widened, his fangs gleaming as he descended upon them.

Desperation flared in their eyes.

"TAKE THIS!"

A spear wreathed in flames shot forward, aiming for his jaw.

Simultaneously, earthen spikes erupted from the ground, impaling his chin.

"ARAA!!"

Jisvruul bellowed in agony, his entire body lurching back.

But the flaming disciple was still inside his mouth—his arm outstretched, reaching—

SNAP.

His right hand was severed.

A gut-wrenching scream filled the battlefield.

Jisvruul wrenched himself free from the spikes, bleeding profusely from his mangled jaw.

Then—

"RAAA!"

Two Gralith demons slammed into his exposed wounds.

"ARAA ARAA!"

Their claws ripped into the fleshy gaps where his wings had once been, peeling his skin away like paper.

The Mawstriders followed, clawing into his flesh, attempting to tear him apart piece by piece.

GRAA!! (VELMIRA!)

He howled in desperation.

Velmira’s gaze flickered toward him.

Why the hell are you still here?!

She was barely holding on herself.

The first Husked Lord’s wing was a lucky shot—but she wouldn’t be able to do it again.

At this point, despite her hatred, she knew—

Going back into her true demon form was the only option.

"Fine. Just this once."Fury crackled in her voice. She hurled herself toward Jisvruul—but—

"AH!"

The second Husked Lord grabbed her arm.

RIP!

Her left arm was torn from her body.

She didn’t stop.

Ignoring the pain, she reached Jisvruul—slicing through both Mawstriders.

THUD.

The Gralith hit the ground, howling in pain.

Jisvruul didn’t hesitate. He swallowed one of them whole.

STOP WASTING TIME!

Velmira snapped—her rage seething. Jisvruul trembled.

Reluctantly, he abandoned the final wailing Mawstrider and shifted; his form twisting into his human shape.

Although one of his legs was missing and his hands were ruined, this form would let him move faster.

Idiot.

Velmira turned back. The Mawstriders were already closing in. The two Husked Lords—watching. Waiting. Then—

"AHHH!"

A blaring shriek. Velmira’s eyes POPPED. But. It wasn’t blood that spilled from them. It was yellow pus.

Thick, sickly liquid oozed down her face, dripping from her pale chin.

Her stomach bulged, sagging over her hips.

Her flesh shifted.

Her skin split.

Beneath, boils swelled and ruptured, spilling putrid yellow pus with each pulse of her body.

"RAA!"

The Husked Lords charged. So did the Gralith.

Fangs snapped at her—claws pierced her flesh—

But—

She didn’t bleed. The stench that poured from her body was worse than death itself.

A moment later... A new form loomed over them. A grotesque husk of rotting flesh—

Twisted limbs bent at unnatural angles. Her stomach was now translucent, and beneath the surface...something moved.

A half-formed mass of writhing veins clawed at the inside of her skin.

Her face remained eerily human—but wrong.

Her skin stretched too tight, as if something crawled beneath it. And when she opened her mouth...

Yellow fangs.

Rotting tongues.

Endless filth.

The humans who had just awakened—

Saw her.

Smelled her.

And they vomited.

"What—what the hell is that?!" Some fainted instantly. Others stumbled, retching uncontrollably.

————————————————————————

Far from the battlefield, Ris sprinted through the shifting landscape, her heart pounding in her chest.

I need to get out of this damned place!

She didn’t look back. As she ran, other disciples came into view—some injured, some barely able to stand.

They called out to her, shouting her name—pleading.

She didn’t stop. She didn’t even turn her head.

The Land of the Mother. That was her destination.

Escape first. Everything else comes later.

The Eyes of Dripping Blood were no longer safe. With Mawstriders and Husked Lords crawling through every corner, this region had transformed into a death trap. It was becoming more and more dangerous.

Still—Yur was the priority. I’ll recuperate first and then look for Yur. Abandoning him would violate the Oath of Blood; It would kill her.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was without loopholes. As long as her intentions remained to find and help Yur, the oath wouldn’t punish her for taking necessary breaks.

Her speed didn’t falter. Every step carved through the land, the wind whipping against her skin as she pushed her body to the limit. Then—

Her eyes locked onto something ahead. And her heart sank. What the hell?!

Even at full speed, she reached the border in minutes—but what she saw there made her skid to a stop.

Her breath hitched. A battlefield—no—a massacre.

Hundreds of Mawstriders.

Dozens of Husked Lords.

The ground churned beneath them as they slaughtered Antics and Weeping Lords like cattle to the slaughter. The sounds of bone crunching, flesh tearing, and inhuman shrieks filled the air.

But that wasn’t the worst part. The sheer number of Gralith and Kyrrath sent a wave of dread crashing through her chest.

Her body moved on instinct. She dove behind a hill of flesh, pressing herself against its sickly surface.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her lungs burned. Her mind raced.

What the hell is going on?!