Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 149: A Demon and his Tigress

Chapter 149: A Demon and his Tigress

That Night...

The area was filled with silence and tranquility.

No snarling.

No stalking.

No surprise ambushes.

Just the silence of a city that had long since died.

Alex slept beneath the skeletal remains of the building, its cracked ceiling barely held together by rusted beams and the stubborn will of forgotten architects. The night passed quietly—not because the world beyond was safe, but because of the one who lay curled beside him.

Nyxara had released a small part of her aura around, just enough to seep into the air like invisible smoke. To most beasts, it was a warning. To the smarter ones, it was a promise: Enter here, and die.

The instinct of predators did the rest.

So, the night remained undisturbed.

As they knew, it was a losing game

The Next Morning...

A piercing beam of sunlight sliced through the tattered cotton sheet that hung limply over the fractured window, flooding the dimly lit room with a harsh, golden glow. The light cascaded in like a spear aimed directly at Alex’s face, illuminating his features with an almost ethereal brightness.

The once-proud fabric, maybe not, which had served as a curtain, now lay in tatters, its frayed edges surrendering to the relentless encroachment of dawn, rendered utterly ineffective against the overwhelming warmth of the rising sun.

Alex stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, unfazed by the light. He blinked a few times as the ceiling came into focus. Dust drifted lazily through the golden beam, glinting like motes of time. He sat up without a word.

Beside him, Nyxara shifted, lifting her head.

Her white fur shimmered delicately in the golden rays of the sun, resembling freshly fallen snow touched by the first light of dawn. She blinked slowly, twice, her feline pupils constricting into sharp slits as she focused intently on his movements.

Without hesitation, she stood gracefully, arching her back in a long, luxurious stretch, muscles rippling beneath her pristine coat.

Then, with a quiet determination, she padded forward, each step creating a soft, rhythmic tap against the worn floor of the hollowed-out building, the sound echoing gently in the stillness as they made their way together.

Outside, the world greeted them.

The night had hidden much of the city, but now Alex could see it all.

The ruins stretched for miles. Concrete bones of buildings jutted out of the ground at strange angles. Rusted cars and collapsed bridges told silent stories of chaos. Weeds had begun reclaiming roads. Wind carried dust like whispers across cracked pavement. The city was a corpse—but one with a story, and Alex was determined to read it.

He leapt up.

Landing softly on a nearby rooftop, he moved again, each jump practiced and silent—like a shadow in motion. He glided from one ruin to the next, his momentum building until, finally, he reached the highest building at the city’s center. It was only half-standing, but that was enough.

Nyxara had already joined him, perched effortlessly on his shoulders.

From there, they could see everything. The full scope of the city’s downfall. The destruction was not recent, but it was thorough. Streets were buried beneath debris. Craters littered once-bustling districts. Skyscrapers had been torn as if by titan hands.

Alex stared.

And slowly, the scene built itself in his mind:

Screams.

Explosions.

Families are separated in an instant.

Panic and death.

Most people would be repulsed by the thought. Sickened. Horrified.

But not him.

A small smile played at the edge of Alex’s lips. The image of terror, the soundless chaos in his head—it brought a strange warmth to his chest. Not joy. Not nostalgia. Something darker. Deeper.

Something primal.

Nyxara shifted on his shoulder. She saw the smile. She heard the soft exhale through his nose. She felt the change in him like a drop in temperature.

She sighed.

"Alex," she murmured, voice smooth but edged, "snap out of it. Your other side is showing again."

The words cut cleanly through the haze.

Alex blinked, his smile fading as quickly as it came. He glanced at her, then back at the ruins.

"...Right."

He exhaled slowly.

Lately, the thing inside him had been stirring more and more. That demon. That hunger. It had begun to show itself more, rather than staying quiet like it used to. He had even expected it to break free when he was slaughtered, Khepri’s family—but somehow, it hadn’t.

Yet here it was again—awake and grinning from the shadows of his mind.

He looked down at the city.

As his hand ran through his hair.

Then spoke, voice low and contemplative.

"Nyxara... after our little pep talk yesterday, I think you were right about something."

She perked her ears, slightly curious.

He continued, "Even demons can be happy. So I’ll do what you asked—I’ll try. I’ll try to find out what life means after all this... once it’s over."

That got a blink out of her.

She stared at him for a second, genuinely surprised. She hadn’t expected him to take her words seriously. She had just said them offhand, to calm the mood boiling inside him. But now...

She smiled. Warmly. Quietly.

Even after everything, the boy who once yearned for a normal life was still in there, clawing his way back up.

But her smile didn’t last long.

The memory of the expression he wore just seconds ago—that twisted, giddy grin at the thought of blood—darkened her mood again.

’If he truly wants peace, he’d need to control that part of him.

Or it would eat everything else.’

Still, she kept her tone light.

With a small flick of her tail and a deadpan expression, she said, "Well, if you do find this ’life’ thing, just make sure it comes with food and at least one proper bed. Or I’m revoting the whole plan."

Alex snorted, the tension breaking.

A small, real smile this time.

The wind picked up, dancing gently around them, ruffling Nyxara’s fur and blowing through his hair.

But even as he chuckled, one thought lingered in the back of his mind—silent, heavy, and sharp:

"If I survive this, at least."