Hunter’s Blade

C45 – In the Rocks

“I’m exploring ways to enhance our brain’s efficiency,” Shire explained.

It felt as though a veil had been lifted from Shire’s mind. Ideas and solutions he had never considered before flooded in, while long-forgotten memories resurfaced. Previously challenging concepts like numbers and vocabulary became clear. With newfound clarity, Shire effortlessly tackled past dilemmas. Regret, despair, and sadness faded as his mind operated with enhanced efficiency, resolving numerous issues.

“We can vanquish demons and fortify the Hunter Organization by demonstrating its value to everyone,” Shire mused aloud. Unconventional strategies began to take shape in his thoughts. “Demons instill fear, but they don’t directly affect personal interests. Perhaps allowing some demons entry, unleashing chaos, will compel people to seek the aid of Devil Hunters. Hunters would then become the sole guardians…”

“Isn’t this a brilliant notion?” Gradiu exclaimed, enthused.

Shire was stunned. How could he conceive such a notion? The underworld’s influence seemed to warp his thoughts, poisoning his mind. “We must return to reality swiftly.”

Leaning against the rock wall, Shire faced the flames cast by the burning demon.

“Not yet. The vanguard flame is keeping watch. If it strikes the cave, the dimensional breach will collapse.”

“You claimed to know everything, Gradiu!” The Burning Evil Devil bellowed. “Perish! Blade Devil God, the King of Hell awaits!”

“Silence! Inferior creature! Merely fit to oversee refuse in the breeding pool!” Gradiu snapped back, “How close is the flame to us?” He turned to Shire.

“It will engulf us in ten seconds. No, five.”

“Let’s hope they remain unaware.”

Gradiu unleashed a furious cry. The sound reverberated like ripples, causing the rock wall behind Shire to crumble, invisible blades slicing through the crevices.

“Get in!” Gradiu urged.

Shire wasted no time, hastily maneuvering into the narrow fissures within the rock, following the direction of the blades. The irregular surface inflicted pain with each movement.

“Can’t you widen it?” Shire inquired.

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“I’ve expended most of my strength,” Gradiu replied weakly and indignantly. “Curse it! Anyone could do this. Why did the Flame Devil King encroach upon my territory?”

“Do you have a conflict with the Flame Devil King? Is it a rival?”

“An utter imbecile. I hold no regard for a Devil God of such limited intellect.”

“You dare insult my lord!” The cave’s flame demon slammed its fist against the ground, the surrounding temperature rising slightly, encroaching upon Shire.

“Just wait!” Gradiu’s voice echoed defiantly. “I will cleave you open.”

“Fire cannot be parted!”

“Separating you is sufficient, fool!”

The flames swiftly crept through the crevice, eagerly reaching towards Shire, as if seeking to engulf him.

Time was of the essence! Shire realized his movements lagged far behind the fire’s advance, perilously close to being consumed.

“Quickly! Hasten your steps!”

Shire strained to navigate the narrow gap Gradiu had created. It was akin to threading a needle. The flames licked at Shire’s arm; he recoiled, realizing evasion was futile.

If only… if only he could transmute into water, becoming formless, could he traverse this fissure effortlessly?

“-Flowing Dark Shadow!” Shire invoked the Hunter Curse. His form dissolved into a shadow, flowing towards the crevice’s opposite side. Familiarity with the incantation facilitated his control, akin to balancing oneself. By tilting his focus, the shadow responded accordingly.

Yet, spatial awareness posed a challenge. In this state, Shire perceived the world in all directions, flattened into a two-dimensional plane. Dark and luminous lines obscured clear directionality. However, he discerned a circular pattern, marking the path to survival amidst the fiery abyss.

Gratefully, Shire adapted swiftly. Illumination marked peril, darkness denoted sanctuary.

“Swiftly, swiftly,” urged Gradiu. “No hesitation. Employing the Hunter Curse was a wise move. My teachings weren’t in vain.”

Exiting the fissure, Shire dispelled the spell, reverting to corporeal form. Surveying his surroundings, he realized he had descended from an elevated place onto rocky terrain. Gradiu seemed to have cleaved a pathway from the incubation pool to a distant palace.

He glanced back at the gap. Shadows danced in the distance, flames futilely pursuing. The crack, over half a meter wide and spanning kilometers, testified to demonic might.

“Indeed, my prowess knows no bounds. Such feats are child’s play.”

Shire observed his diminished stature.

“You’ve expended considerable energy.”

He surveyed his form. Having dispatched the minor phantoms around the Fire Lake, he had grown to over two meters. Now, reverted to his diminutive impish state, a necessary sacrifice.

“It’s a necessary cost. Hell abounds with soul sediment. A few more demon slayings will replenish it.”

“Simple for you to say. But where exactly are we?” Shire traced the smoothed rock surface.

Braziers adorned the walls, emitting an eerie green soul fire. As Shire approached, Gradiu greedily consumed the spectral flames.

“This is my domain,” Gradiu declared arrogantly, “Behold, my palace. Within lies my realm, my dominion in the depths.”

“Certainly appears so,” Shire remarked, tracing the intricate patterns adorning the walls, reminiscent of ancient script.

“All the treasures lie within the vaults. Let me guide you,” Gradiu exclaimed eagerly, “We shall claim all that’s valuable and leave this stone fortress to the Flame Fiends.”

“Do you reside here regularly?” Shire ventured as they strolled through the palace’s corridors, distant echoes of explosions, screams, and eerie whispers haunting the air.

“This is merely one of over 60,000 such palaces under my command.”

“Over 60,000?” Shire was astounded.

“Such is the nature of Hell. We wield control over millions of lesser spirits, organizing them into armies numbering in the hundreds of millions. Engaging in perpetual conflict, chaos begets chaos. It’s either for entertainment’s sake or due to irreconcilable differences among the Devil God’s subordinates. The old Devil God forever at odds with the young devils, while the Princes of Happiness and Sorrow engage in eternal strife. The Devil God’s provocations during warfare only fueled discord further, particularly in his feud with the Prince of Sorrow. The King of Destruction, despite lacking in strategic prowess, somehow evaded banishment. Why target me alone?” Gradiu’s frustration mounted as he recounted the tumultuous politics of Hell.

A disturbance caught Shire’s attention.

“Quack! Quack! Quack!”

“Wuu! Wuu!”

“Quack! Quack! Quack!”

“Ahhh!”

Following the clamor, Shire descended to the palace’s lower level, where a vast armory stretched before him. Countless ghosts scurried about, while a towering demon plucked individuals from the throng, tossing them into a blazing furnace.

Agonized cries filled the air as bodies dissolved, souls drifting free while black Devil Substance oozed from the furnace’s depths.

Beneath the furnace, larger fire demons awaited, molding the molten substance into various weapons: swords, spears, crossbows, and other mysterious armaments.

Burly spirits hurried to transport these newly forged weapons from the palace.

The scene unfolded amidst chaos and order, the ghosts’ lamentations a constant backdrop.

“A weapons forge?” Shire puzzled, “But why the need for so many?”

“For warfare and evolution, naturally. Survivors absorb the souls of fallen demons. After every battle, the air teems with lingering souls, empowering the living. Lesser spirits ascend to become greater beings, gradually ascending the ranks until chosen by the Lord as Demon Princes, second only to the Immortal Devil God. The Kings are ever vigilant, ready to usurp their superiors at any opportunity.”

Bang!

Before Shire could delve deeper into Hell’s intricacies, a thunderous noise erupted.

He turned to witness a Flame Demon fervently crafting a ring with its molten fists upon a rocky anvil. Initially gleaming with golden brilliance, the ring soon dulled to a charred appearance.

“Observe, Shire,” Gradiu urged excitedly, “That ring holds true value. Among the Flaming Demon armies, a charred ring is highly coveted for its ability to summon infernos that consume all in their path.”

“Ah.”

“Ah?” Gradiu scoffed, “Why the indifference? This ring is worth the risk of a great demon’s ire. Let us seize it! Go on, go!”

Shire’s eyes widened. Retrieving that charred black ring from a Flame Devil’s blacksmith? Easier said than done!

“The burnt black ring… the burnt black ring…” Gradiu muttered repeatedly, “Securing such a prize would justify our venture here.”

Shire gazed at the ring in the distance. The Flame Demon hoisted it aloft with a surge of heated air, activating its power to unleash a blazing inferno. The deafening roar consumed dozens of ghosts in its wake, reducing them to ash in moments. Nearby spirits eagerly absorbed the released souls, growing in size as they squabbled over the remains.

Truly formidable. Shire fixed his gaze on the ring.

The question remained: How to acquire it?