Chapter 337: Chapter 336 - The Crater.
The tunnel sloped downward like the throat of some buried titan, its walls slick with black condensation that pulsed faintly as though alive.
Ash clung to their boots, muffling every step, but even the silence felt drowned beneath the faint, throbbing hum that leaked from deeper inside.
Minutes passed before the narrow passage finally opened—and the group stopped as one.
"...Well," Jessy whispered, her voice a lazy drawl despite the way her eyes widened. "That’s... definitely not the ’small gathering’ the chicken advertised."
The cavern ahead stretched wider than a stadium, its sheer immensity impossible to take in at once.
A ghostly gray mist hung over the clearing, veiling a nightmare landscape of motion and sound.
Thousands of corrupted beasts churned across the blackened ground, their twisted bodies packed so tightly it looked like the surface itself was alive and writhing.
And in the center—a vast crater, glowing faintly violet.
The weaker beasts never lingered near its edge for long.
They were seized by larger, stronger monsters and hurled into the pit like scraps of meat tossed to an unseen furnace.
Each impact sent a dull, stomach-twisting whump echoing up the cavern walls, followed by a wet hiss as something below consumed them.
The beast they were following was now gone, having blended into the crowd and moved toward the center.
They could still see her movements, but they were sure she would soon be untraceable among so many of them.
Graye leaned forward, silver armor catching the faint purple glow. Her amber eyes sparkled with the same excitement one might reserve for a carnival ride.
"Whoa. It’s like an all-you-can-yeet buffet."
Selena, calm as a snowfall, narrowed her blue eyes. "Those are level sevens and eights being fed. Something below that crater is absorbing their corruption."
Rufus adjusted the red-black collar of his nanoparticle suit, face grim. "Y’know... Cluckles did say ’a lot.’ But maybe chicken math is just different because there are a lot more than a lot."
Omni’s voice purred from Raven’s arm like a smug street hustler.
"Yo, boss, you seeing this? That’s not a beast party—that’s a beast economy. Somebody’s running a whole stock exchange of doom down there."
But the true weight of the scene settled on the twelve giants surrounding the crater.
They loomed like living calamities—each a nightmare stitched from wrongness.
A wolf-shaped titan with antlers of calcified bone and eyes like bleeding moons.
A serpent crowned in fungal horns, its body coiled around itself like a living noose.
A hulking four-legged abomination, its back crawling with twitching humanlike hands.
A winged horror whose ribcage flexed like a gaping maw every time it breathed.
But that wasn’t the end of it all, as there were more—each radiating the crushing presence of a level ten.
Graye’s eager grin faltered for a second. "...Okay. That’s... a lot of snack bosses."
Siris tilted her head, eyes gleaming like frosted daggers. "We can kill them."
Jake finally spoke, voice quiet but firm. "Not all at once."
He was told not to come, as he had been in an incident not long ago, but he wanted to come, and since he was all healed up, save for a few minor injuries that still carried some demonic energy, Raven didn’t say no.
Selena’s tone was ice-calm as she added to Jake’s words. "Not without alerting the rest. The numbers would crush even us."
But none of them looked afraid.
Not with Raven standing there.
They didn’t know how it was possible, but Raven had said that he wouldn’t lose to anyone if it came to a contest of mana, and in fights with numbers against them, mana was the most important thing.
For now, Raven scanned the clearing, eyes like coals beneath the hooded shadow of his hair.
"We avoid fighting," he said softly, but every syllable cut through the humming cavern like a blade.
"They’re strong, but strength isn’t the problem. The unknown is. We can’t risk waking what’s in that crater."
Jessy exhaled a slow breath. "So... stealth mission in a mosh pit of death. Fun."
"The panther’s here somewhere," Raven continued. "But it’s hidden. Most of these things are the size of the panther or bigger. We search quietly."
Graye pumped a fist, armor plates chiming. "Stealth. Got it. Zero explosions. Probably."
Selena arched a perfect brow. "Definitely."
Clara stepped closer to Raven, her voice gentle but sure. "I can use my sound magic to mask us. As long as no one attacks, the beasts will ignore minor contact. Even if we brush against them."
"Perfect." Raven’s crimson gaze swept the group. "Clara and I will stay here—high ground. We’ll guide you and keep an eye on the center. If you get spotted, retreat to the west wall."
Jessy raised an eyebrow. "You’re letting us play bumper cars with death while you two babysit from the VIP balcony?"
Clara smiled faintly. "Would you rather I weren’t suppressing their senses?"
"...Point taken." Jessy stuffed her hands back into her pockets. "Lead the way, maestro of doom."
Rufus peered at the roiling masses below. "Okay, but—if I accidentally step on something’s tail, what’s the policy? Apologize or run?"
"Run," Clara said smoothly.
Graye grinned. "I vote we run while
apologizing. Makes it more polite."Omni chuckled, his voice a velvet rasp. "Aight, squad. Time to wade through BeastFest 5000. Don’t slip, don’t stab, and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t poke the winged ribcage guy. He looks like someone with tax and stomach problems."
The group exchanged grim looks, save for Graye, who seemed excited.
Then, with Clara’s sound magic humming like a ghostly veil around them, they began their descent into a sea of monsters, where every step brought them closer to the panther and the unspeakable thing waiting at the bottom of the crater.
.............................
Meanwhile, in the demon realm.
The Fourth Hell of the demon realm pulsed like a living wound.
A violet haze bled across the horizon, swallowing the obsidian spires of Lamashura’s fortress until they looked like jagged teeth against a dying sky.
The castle’s highest chamber, a hall of black glass and crimson veins, lay silent—except for the slow, rhythmic tick of a pendulum clock that shouldn’t have been able to exist in this realm at all.
Inside, Lamashura waited.
The chamber’s fire pits burned a deep blue, their flames licking the polished floor without warmth.
The air reeked of iron and scorched brimstone, but the figure sitting on the vast throne looked wildly out of place.
A girl.
Barely ten years old in appearance, her legs swung idly above the floor, too short to reach the black marble step below.
Her white hair shimmered faintly in the gloom, catching the eerie light like frost.
Wide violet eyes, cold and ancient, stared at the flickering flame of a single candle placed on the armrest beside her.
This was Lamashura—the Tyrant of Ten Thousand Skulls.
To the outside world, she was a nightmare given flesh, a towering beast of horn and flame who ruled the Fourth Hell with a grip of terror.
Only here, alone, did she allow her true form to surface: a small, pale child whose bare feet barely brushed the edge of the throne.
Her expression didn’t match the restless swing of her legs.
Her gaze was sharp and calculating, and every second of silence was weighed and dissected.
’Why hasn’t he answered yet?’
The Demon King never delayed.
She had sent her report hours ago—detailing the stolen Seeds of Luck, the collapse of their forward positions in the human realm, and the futility of continuing the invasion.
She’d even offered the only viable countermeasure: a tyrant-class demon strong enough to rewrite the odds.
But with the Seeds gone, sending such a monster was... all but impossible.
But if they did decide, then the one they would send would be her, as she was one of the strongest demon tyrants.
After a bout of silence, a knock was heard on her chamber’s door.
"Come in," she said.
A low-ranking demon hurried in, his armor scraping against the floor as he dropped to one knee.
"My Lady Lamashura," he rasped, clutching a silver scroll in trembling claws. "The Demon King has... replied."
Lamashura tilted her head. "Read it."
The demon’s throat bobbed as he unsealed the scroll.
"By order of the 62nd Demon King," he began, his voice quivering, "the offensive against the human realm will proceed as planned. Effective immediately, Lady Lamashura is relieved of her command."
He swallowed as he felt Lamashura’s shocked gaze on him but continued, "A more... competent strategist has presented a solution requiring the sacrifice of several hundred generals, and the King deems this cost acceptable for the conquest of the human realm."
The final words echoed in the chamber like a death knell.
The subordinate dared a glance upward. "My lady, they... they claim this new plan guarantees—"
"Leave."
The word was soft. Too soft.
Yet the demon flinched as if struck, retreating so quickly his wings scraped the stone.
Silence returned.
Lamashura remained motionless until the echo of departing footsteps faded.
Then she slid off the throne, bare feet whispering against the marble as she approached a hidden alcove.
With a flick of her small wrist, a section of the wall unraveled into shadow, revealing a palm-sized obsidian sphere etched with crimson runes.
Her private communicator.
A line the Demon King did not know existed.
She pressed it to her lips.
The sphere pulsed once, twice—then connected with a soft, hungry click.
Before the other end could even speak, Lamashura whispered, voice razor-sharp despite the childlike timbre:
"Lady Zarethia. The attack will continue.
The King is sending someone stronger.
There is a chance a new tyrant will cross the veil."
The sphere throbbed with a faint, answering hiss.
Lamashura closed her eyes, a flicker of something—fear, or fury—breaking through her perfect mask for the briefest heartbeat.
Then she snapped the device shut.
The chamber swallowed the sound, leaving only the cold tick of the pendulum.
Then, in the silence, the little girl’s eyes glowed with a cruel, knowing light, as she knew that it wouldn’t be long before she would need to return to Zarethia’s side.