Chapter 112 THE DEMI-GOD'S CHALLENGE
Chapter 112 THE DEMI-GOD'S CHALLENGE
Xyra glanced quickly at Magnus, then scanned the ground for her khukuri. Unfortunately, it lay outside the barrier. With the demon throwing everything it had against the magical wall, she didn’t dare step into the open. She was trapped, and the hybrid showed no signs of slowing down its attack. Suddenly, a movement caught her eye. Magnus was moving, slipping past the distracted monster with slow, deliberate steps.
She tracked his every move. He was heading straight for her khukuri. When he reached the blade, he stopped, hesitating before slowly bending down. Xyra's heart sank. Didn't he remember what happened the last time he touched it? The weapon resisted magic; sorcerers couldn't even grip the hilt without consequence. If he touched it, it would tear him apart.
"Magnus, what are you doing?" she called out, panic bleeding into her voice. He ignored her, his hand moving closer to the metal. "You can't touch it, remember?" Still, he didn't stop. "Please, don't! I can handle this, I promise!"
"Xyra," Magnus said, his eyes locked on the weapon. "Get ready to run."
"What...?"
"Just do it."
He gripped the hilt. Instantly, a violent shock surged through his arm, scorching his skin. Magnus only tightened his grip, biting back a scream. As he lifted the blade, the energy flared. Bright tendrils of electricity snaked across his entire body. The moment it overwhelmed him, his barrier shattered.
"Run!" he roared.
Xyra scrambled to her feet and bolted away from the hybrid. The monster lunged to chase her, but Magnus cut it off. With a heavy, trembling swing, he sheared one of the creature's arms completely off. The beast howled, clutching the bloody stump as it glared at Magnus with pure hatred. It charged, swinging its remaining hand. Magnus barely dodged, his body growing heavier by the second. His muscles burned, and every nerve in his brain screamed at him to drop the weapon.
The demon lunged again. Magnus dodged the wild strike and poured the last of his strength into a counterattack. He brought the sword down hard. It struck the heavy armor, slicing through the thick metal and the flesh beneath with surprising ease. The blade didn't even chip. Xyra's khukuri was clearly no ordinary weapon — it was far stronger than the armor it had just ruined. Magnus pushed the thought aside for later; right now, he just needed the agony to stop.
As the hybrid crashed lifelessly to the ground, Magnus finally let go of the hilt. The electrical current vanished, and the pain stopped almost instantly. The sudden relief was too much for his exhausted body. His vision blurred, and his mind went dark. He thought he heard Xyra call his name, but the sound faded into nothing as he collapsed onto the dirt.
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After two weeks of grueling labor, Andagon Valley was finally showing signs of life again. A proper cemetery now stretched across the valley floor, filled with rows of gravestones honoring the fallen. Only the graveyard in Vekta was larger. It was a devastating loss for the dragon race, one that would take generations to heal, but the survivors were determined to rebuild.
Out in the valley, the dragons worked side by side, clearing away piles of charred wood and shattered stone — all that remained of their beautiful homes. The scars of battle were everywhere, but the mood was surprisingly resilient. Some workers shared quiet laughs while others chatted to pass the time. Even the dragon king was out there, working alongside his people and keeping everyone motivated, though he rarely needed to intervene. Everyone was dedicated to the task.
Darren shoved his shovel into the dirt and wiped his brow, letting out a heavy sigh. He was exhausted from hauling heavy debris all morning and was well past due for a break. Leaving his tool behind, he stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered off for a quiet walk across the valley. He took in the scene as he walked. Some dragons were clearing rubble, others were already framing new houses, and a few were still chiseling names into the final headstones. A few others were on break too, mostly standing in small groups to talk.
Suddenly, Darren froze. He narrowed his eyes at a figure standing in the distance. It was a man, completely still, doing nothing but staring up at the sky. As a half-dragon, Darren knew instantly that the stranger didn't belong to the valley. Trespassers rarely showed up without permission, let alone stood out in the open doing absolutely nothing. The stranger's sheer indifference was unsettling.
"Darren!" Astrid called, jogging up behind her brother. Her smile quickly faded when she saw his tense posture. "What's wrong?"
"That guy," Darren whispered, keeping his eyes glued to the stranger. "Have you ever seen him before?"
Astrid squinted at the newcomer. "No. I don't think so."
"Go find Xerxes and bring some guards. If he's trouble and an enemy, we need to be ready."
Astrid nodded and hurried off. Darren stayed behind, watching closely. The man hadn't made a hostile move yet, but a smug, arrogant smirk crept onto his face. It sent a chill down Darren's spine. Is he human? A demon? Something else?
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Moments later, Astrid returned with Xerxes and a large group of warriors. They gathered behind Darren, their gazes locking onto the intruder. After everything they had just suffered, they weren't about to let another threat ruin their home.
"Hey!" Darren yelled across the clearing.
The man turned slowly, tilting his head. Up close, it was obvious he wasn't human. His ears were sharply pointed, his eyes were bright yellow with slit pupils, and his navy-blue hair contrasted sharply with his pale, sickly skin. He looked entirely demonic, yet he wore simple human clothes — a dark brown shirt and black pants that made his pale complexion look even starker. Despite being surrounded by dozens of angry dragons, the monster didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk grew wider. Darren swallowed his unease; as a hunter, he refused to be intimidated by a demon.
"This is our land," Darren demanded. "Who are you? Answer me!"
"Is your name Darren, by any chance?" the demon asked. His voice was smooth, carrying a tone of quiet amusement.
"What if it is?" Darren crossed his arms, staring him down. But his confidence wavered when the demon’s smirk turned ice-cold.
"So," the demon purred, "you're the half-breed who travels with Albus."
Darren's heart dropped. The secret of his heritage was closely guarded — only Magnus, Xyra, and the inner circle of the tribe knew the truth. How could a total stranger know about his past, let alone his connection to Magnus?
"Who are you?" Xerxes demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble.
The demon’s eyes narrowed cruelly. "...Raheem."
The name struck the crowd like a physical blow. Taking advantage of their sudden shock, the demi-god vanished. Before anyone could blink, he reappeared right in front of Darren. Terrified, Darren threw a desperate punch to defend himself, but his fist sailed right through the figure. Raheem dissolved into a mist of shadows.
"An illusion..." Darren gasped.
The real Raheem appeared at his side instantly. Before Darren could react, the demi-god drove a knee hard into his stomach. The breath exploded from Darren's lungs, and his vision went black. Raheem caught the unconscious half-dragon by the collar before he hit the ground, leaping backward to put distance between himself and the crowd. He smiled at the furious glares directed at him, lingering on Astrid's horrified, tearful face.
"Let him go!" Xerxes roared, his calm blue eyes flashing with rage.
"I don't think so," Raheem replied. Without a word, he began to float effortlessly into the air. With his human lineage, the demi-god could cast magic just as easily as any sorcerer. He looked down at them with supreme amusement. "Tell Albus what happened here. I want to see him and his reaction. Tell him he can find me at the Sorcerer's League headquarters. I'll be waiting."
Before the dragons could launch an attack, Raheem shot into the sky, moving faster than a dragon in full flight. The clearing fell into a heavy silence. The choice before them was agonizing: they couldn't abandon Darren, but going to Magnus meant walking straight into a trap. Dealing with a demi-god meant there were no good options.
Xerxes stood quietly beside his daughter, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. Darren was his son. He was the dragon king, the most powerful being on the planet, yet the sheer, unpredictable magic of a demi-god terrified him. If anyone had a chance against Raheem, it was Magnus — assuming the sorcerer could gather the talismans in time.
Unable to handle the silence any longer, Astrid turned and bolted back toward the village. Her father and a few others followed closely, expecting tears, but her face showed only fierce determination. They watched as she burst into her home and emerged a moment later carrying a packed travel bag. Through the opening, they could see healing salves, magical ink, and a few raw talismans. Without saying a word to anyone, she turned toward the east and ran out of the valley.