Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Chapter 162 The Nightmare's Grip



Like an incarnation of violence, Adam shattered the skeletons' lines of defense, leaving behind him hundreds more that tried to catch up.

Despite the cacophony of clinking chainmail and scraping feet, he ignored them as he zeroed in on his goal: the moss-covered columns supporting a crumbling archway.

With the ticking clock narrowing closer to his mind's doom, he lunged without hesitation. His back tensed, and his fist drew back. Each muscle fiber strained, filling him with a sense of immeasurable power overshadowed by a deep-seated terror.

Yet, the unrelenting march of time didn't allow him to think about it. The only thing that mattered was to push toward the exit faster.

His fist burst forward, crushing against the howling fog first, then the column.

RUMBLE

The arc trembled as dust and pebbles rained to cover his blood-smeared armor in a gray film. Cracks echoed madly in his ears, compelling him to propel himself into the next room.

CRASH

A dust-laden shock wave sent him rolling gracelessly onto the rotten ground, further reducing his once-dashing looks to those of a monster spat by the demon realm's depth.

With a grunt, he shoved his hand into the rough slabs, the disgusting slimy texture coating them making his brows twitch. He glanced back at the debris collapsing to seal the room from his pursuers. Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire

Then, taking advantage of the blast's pressure pushing against his back, he lunged on his feet and bolted through the room.

Ready to fight another wave of soldiers, his brows creased warily. No soldiers, no skeletons, not even tombs registered in his eyes. Instead, the fog thickened to become almost tangible. But worse, the wailing that had haunted him since he entered the crypt reverberated clearer in his ears.

An icy shiver ran down his spine. He could swear he had seen something hovering by the corner of his eyes, but only emptiness greeted him when he snapped his head.

Eyes narrowed as he continued his charge on a worn-down dark carpet, he scanned the pillars and arced ceiling for the creature.

However, his feet screeched against the ground as he came to an abrupt stop the next second.

"Hahaha." "Hehehe."

His neck tensed so hard that the bones appeared for all to see as two mischievous laughs echoed.

"Look! A living being, brother! How many thousand years have passed since we saw one?"

A curious girly voice broke the silence before a cracking, boyish one followed.

"I stopped counting after a few hundred years, sister. But let's try not to break this one too fast. Oh! Also, don't forget to stuff his mouth while we play. We don't want him to bite his tongue off like the last one, right?"

Adam's hair bristled, and horror waltzed in his eyes as he watched two ethereal frames phase through a column to hover twenty meters before him.

The dense mist swirling around their oversized heads almost made him forget the madness pounding holes into his mind. He felt his blood chill under their red gazes, his instincts screaming to flee.

"Poltergeists..."

The girl's eyes widened before she raised an eager fist.

"He knows about us!" Her lips curled into a terrifying smile, breaking the cheerful image she had just displayed. "So, he knows we'll devour his soul once we're done torturing him."

Meanwhile, the fog swirled and took arrow shapes. Hovering above the boy's palm, they followed his playful tossing gesture as he licked his lips.

"It'll make the hunt more enjoyable." A grating cackle left his lips as he nodded at his sister, the confrontation nothing more than the game of a scavenger playing with prey. "Ready?"

With a smirk, the girl faded like a mirage. If the creepy boy didn't still stand before his wide eyes, he would have believed the goddess had pulled him into a nightmare.

Yet, he tensed as he shoved a finger into his wounds. The laughter, the poltergeists, the crypt, everything was real. And the malice corroding him. Ah, the sweet whispers pulling him deeper into a world of violence and hatred.

Would he forget the terror gripping his heart by embracing it? After all, no sane human would remain fearless before evil ghosts. Isn't there a saying like that? Fight fire with fire, or in this case, fight evil with evil?

"Really? Undead and ghosts terrorise you?" As the temptation increased to the point he was about to give in, Karna's amused voice reverberated in his mind.

Met with it, his eyes enlarged as he broke free from his trance, just in time to feel the whistling arrows home into his defenseless torso.

'What am I thinking?! Shit!'

He clenched his jaws, anchoring himself in Karna's words and remembering his goal.

Then, the arrows registered in his eyes like the oh-so-many stones Achilles had hurled at him in the last seven days.

Drawing from the painful experience, he scanned their trajectory in the blink of an eye as his body moved reflexively. With indemonic agility, he bent backwards over ninety degrees.

WHOSH

His hair danced as the projectiles grazed the grim on his leather armor, leaving white marks through it. Yet, his mind already raced to cement the blossoming resolve Karna's words had formed.

"They're pitiful creatures who'll never find the bliss of eternal rest. Look at it this way, Adam. Would you fear a mad mage who torments others under the guise of the night? No! Knowing you, you'll feel anger and the desire to protect your citizens. See them like that: enemies threatening your territory." He remembered Karna's bright smile and the sensation of his warm hands resting on his shoulders. "I'm sure your fears will vanish after our expedition, so don't torture yourself."

Dark flames ignited in his narrowing eyes as he launched a mental counter-attack against the malice to shut it up.

Then, he scrutinised the boy, a defiant brazier engulfing his fears for a simple reason—trust. And he would use it to see the shine of victory that would lead him to freedom!


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