CHAPTER 21 - ONLY ONE MALE LEFT STANDING

"Are you sure this is the right place?" murmured Sae, a few steps behind me.

"I'm sure this is where I was supposed to die, yeah."

I had come to a dead stop, right at the edge. The wind blew in dry gusts, laced with ash and static electricity. Under my feet, the basalt cracked softly. And before me, hell stretched out, almost peaceful.

A glowing valley, half enclosed between black cliffs, stretched to the horizon. At the center, a camp — or rather a rudimentary resting zone, carved directly into the rock, built around an old crater where a blue flame still burned with no visible source. A dozen... no, fifteen male demons, all more massive than the last, moved around slowly. Some ate. Others trained. Most were dozing, sprawled around fires or lying against stones.

They were huge. Dark skin, marbled with red. Misshapen horns. Disproportionate limbs. Beasts. Fucking animals standing upright.

But they weren't the ones I was interested in.

No.

It was them.

At the center of the camp, on a raised platform — barely a pedestal of vitrified rock — three female figures reigned. Naked. By choice, not submission.

The first, legs crossed, had her back to me. Her white hair, brighter than Sae's, fell down to her ass, barely hiding the opulent roundness of her buttocks. Every movement of her shoulders revealed more of the monstrous curve of her hips, as if sculpted for stretching. She barely moved. Only her thin horns pulsed slightly, as if they were picking up the waves of the world.

The second was lying on her side, one leg bent, the other hanging. Her skin was black as onyx, but speckled with golden spots, almost feline. Her enormous, heavy breasts hung on either side of her torso with no shame, exposed like two trophies. She idly caressed her hip with the tip of her claws, a vacant smile on her lips. From time to time, she turned her head toward the males below, like a queen watching her dogs.

The third... was looking at me.

Upright. Standing. Tall. Too tall.

Her red eyes glowed through the distorted heat. Not a blink. Not a twitch. She saw me. She knew I was there. And yet, she didn't move.

Her thick thighs were separated by a simple black cloth — or what looked like a strip of sweat-soaked veil — hanging between her legs like a provocation. Her chest, however, was uncovered. Two enormous, firm globes, whose dark tips pointed toward the sky like loaded weapons. Her stomach was flat, muscular. Her arms crossed under her chest only emphasized the impression of controlled power.

An alpha succubus. Or something worse.

"They don't look like the others..." whispered Sae.

I nodded.

"No. They're in charge. The males only fuck, sleep, obey."

"You want... to kill them?"

I smiled.

"No. Not yet."

I crouched to observe better. My bow on my back. My dagger at my hip. I traced mental markers. Entrances. Tents. Shadows. Patrols. Rhythms.

"You're going in?" she asked.

I didn't answer right away. One of the demonesses stood up at that precise moment. The one on the ground. She stretched like a cat, her breasts swaying heavily with each movement, then went back to smiling, lying in the light like a demonic offering.

My gaze returned to the third. Still upright. Still staring. Still watching me.

"Not now. I want them to see me. But not like this."

I stood up.

"They'll see something else soon. Not a man. Not an intruder. Not prey."

Sae frowned.

"Then what?"

I slowly turned to her, and a cold smile stretched across my lips.

"Their new king."

By nightfall, everything became simpler.

The fire below was just a lazy ember. The demons laughed less. Some were already snoring, sprawled around the blackened stones. The three women had moved away. Gathered on their platform, apart, as if their mere presence was enough to dominate the pack.

Beside me, Sae crouched slowly. Her black outfit clung to her thighs in the red light. She said nothing. But her eyes... they followed me.

I adjusted my bow. Drew my dagger. My breathing was slow. Cold. It was the calm before the execution.

"You're going alone?" she whispered, a few centimeters from my ear.

Her voice vibrated like a caress.

"Yeah. Just follow the plan."

She straightened slightly. Her face turned to me. Her gaze ran over me. The bow. The dagger. My bare chest. And that tense lower belly I no longer tried to hide. A natural reaction, amplified by tension, by the smell of ash and sex hanging in the air.

She didn't look away.

"You don't want... them to know you exist?" she said.

I smiled without warmth.

"I want them to notice me. But not as an intruder. Not as an enemy."

I flicked the blade between my fingers.

"I want them to wake up in an empty camp. Silent. With not a single male left standing."

"And then?"

I finally turned to her.

Sae. In her black outfit. One leg folded under her. The other stretched out. Her chest, still slightly rising from the effort of walking. Her hair clinging to her neck. Her eyes, a troubled silver, shining with an excitement she perhaps didn't understand herself.

"Then," I said, "they'll understand the world just changed."

I stood up. My bow appeared in my left hand. The dagger remained in my right.

Sae lowered her gaze slightly, a short breath escaping.

The moment had come.

I slid my hand along Sae's hip — a simple touch, firm, silent — and she understood immediately. She no longer moved. Not a word. Not a breath. She melted into the rock, hidden in the shadow, like a statue watching over the mountain.

Me, I descended.

My feet made no sound on the basalt. Each step was measured, calculated, sinking into the red sand lining the slope. The sweat had dried on my skin. My heart didn't even beat faster. I was already elsewhere. Already in the act.

The camp lay below, poorly lit by a half-burned central fire. Around it, the guards turned slowly, like dogs without a master. There were five. Five massive demonic males, with clawed limbs and lifeless eyes. Beasts. Nothing more.

I saw one drift away from the circle of light.

Too far from the group. Too slow.

I pounced.

My hand grabbed his skull. My knee exploded into his throat before he had time to growl. He collapsed, convulsing. I placed my hand over his mouth, and with the other, my dagger. A press. A slit.

The sand was already drinking.

I dragged the corpse behind a rock. And moved to the next.

A glance left. Another right.

The bow.

The mental arrow appeared between my fingers, as natural as breathing. I shot without thinking. It flew. A small crack on impact. The target's eye burst. He collapsed, stiff.

Two.

I went lower, back bent, figure dancing between shadows.

The third guard had his back to the light. Perfect. I approached, slid my blade under his ribs, right where the heart beats.

A breath. A gasp.

He faded against my chest.

Three.

The last two spoke to each other. A guttural language. Senseless sounds. One scratched his balls, chuckling. The other sniffed the air. My scent?

I hit the nearest one with a bolt in the throat. The other opened his mouth. Too late.

I was already on him. My dagger pierced his palate like melted butter.

He dropped in silence.

Five.

The camp hadn't heard a thing.

Even the embers crackled louder than their deaths.

I slowly approached the main tent. No cries. No movement. The females weren't there. Their silhouettes were missing. Only the stretched skins over the wooden slats formed a steamy shelter, filled with animal heat.

I parted the fabric.

They slept.

All of them.

Males. Ten maybe. Naked for the most part. Others half-covered in hides. Heavy, muscular bodies, packed in the humidity, each with his slow breath, dangling tongue, dirty claws.

I slit three throats before one of them stirred in his sleep.

I pressed against him. Dagger in the temple. A shiver. Then nothing more.

Then it became a ballet. A slow, cold dance. Slash. Smother. Finish. Thick, hot, silent spurts. One by one. None woke up. None deserved to.

The last one, the biggest, snored like a beast.

I drove my blade through his throat.

And silence returned.

I stood among the corpses, naked, covered in sweat, feet in blood. The air stank of hot meat and dried cum.

I looked at my hands. They didn't tremble.

I was no longer a soldier.

I was a lord of shadow, an assassin. And this tribe... was already mine, before they even knew it.

I lifted the tent flap.

The outside air hit me like a slap.

Silence was total.

And in front of me... they were there.

Standing. Aligned. As if they were waiting for me.

The shaman, in the back, straight as a statue, perched on a basalt rock. Her staff planted in the ground, both hands crossed at the top. Her face was hidden under a dark stone mask, polished, marked with glowing demonic symbols. At her feet, a smoking bowl, filled with black liquid. She didn't move. Not even a twitch.

Just in front of her, the succubus. Half crouched on a cushion of dried flesh, she was chewing absentmindedly on a piece of still-red meat. Her eyes, slit like a serpent's, were fixed on me. And her lips, full, stretched, dripped with lazy pleasure.

And finally... before the other two.

The warrior.

The largest. Taller than me. Bare-chested, dark skin covered in ritual scars. Two blades strapped to her sides, and a fixed gaze. Animal. Focused.

Me? Naked. Bloody. My dagger still dripping in my palm. My chest heaved. My breath was heavy.

I exhaled.

"Fuck..."

The succubus rose slowly. No sudden movements. She stepped forward, her hip swaying with perverse grace.

"So this is the hero of the night. The silent butcher. The rare male..."

She looked me up and down. Slowly. Unashamed. She saw everything. The blood, the sweat, the tension. My throbbing cock, swollen from adrenaline. My burning skin. And my eyes, steady, calm.

"You killed all our males. That's... fascinating."

She chuckled softly.

"But you see, as weak, as replaceable as they are... we can't let you do that."

She lazily extended her arm.

"Kharr-Va."

The warrior stepped forward.

The succubus smiled again.

"Kill him."