CHAPTER 713: FEAST OF THE BLOODFIENDS

Ethan barely had time to react—

The goblins were already on the move.

"Hey—!" he shouted, too late.

A cluster of them surged forward, hammers raised high.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The sickening crunch of bone and flesh echoed through the clearing.

Blood sprayed in arcs.

The Bloodfiend was beaten flat into the dirt, limbs twitching, barely clinging to life.

Ethan let out a sigh and strode over, grabbing the creature by the scruff with one hand and hauling it upright like a sack of meat.

"Listen," he said, voice low and even. "Tell me—who’s your leader? What kind of power does he have?"

The Bloodfiend bared its blood-slick fangs in a grin. "Heh... kill me... and you’ll find out."

Its eyes gleamed—not with fear, but with something far worse.

Devotion. Madness.

Ethan’s brow furrowed.

Then—

Crack.

The creature’s hand shot up and slammed into its own chest.

"Shit!"

Ethan felt it instantly—the magic in the air twisted, surged.

A self-destruct spell.

"Fall back!!"

He grabbed Feylora and the tiny fairy, yanked them close, and blinked out of range.

BOOM—

The world went white.

The explosion tore through the forest like a scream, a shockwave of blood-charged energy flattening trees and shredding the underbrush.

Several goblins didn’t make it out in time. They vanished in the blast, their armor spinning through the air like broken toys.

The air reeked of scorched metal and burnt flesh.

When Ethan landed, the energy shield on his arm was still flickering, barely holding.

He turned back.

Where the Bloodfiend had been, there was now a crater—deep, wide, and soaked in blood.

He exhaled slowly, eyes scanning the forest now cloaked in a haze of violet mist.

Something was wrong here.

This wasn’t like the other dungeons.

The air itself tasted of rust and rot, every breath laced with warped magic.

And the Bloodfiends—

They didn’t fear death.

They welcomed it.

A chill crept down his spine.

This wasn’t just a monster nest.

This was a battlefield twisted by belief.

"Damn it," he muttered. "This dungeon’s way too high-risk."

He started running through excuses in his head—unstable mana flux, maybe, or a compromised portal. Something his team would buy.

But before he could settle on one—

A blur of light zipped past him.

Feylora.

She was already moving, the fairy tucked under one arm, darting deeper into the forest.

"Hey—!"

Ethan’s face darkened.

Staying put now would mean letting her die.

He sighed.

"...Fine."

With a wave, he signaled the goblins to follow.

"This is getting way too much like babysitting a bunch of kids through a warzone," he muttered.

It wasn’t long before they reached a village.

Or what was left of one.

The place was deathly still.

Not a single leaf stirred. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

The wooden huts were crumbling, roofs caved in like broken ribs. Black-red liquid oozed across the ground, glistening in the dim light, its sickly-sweet scent curling into their nostrils.

"Don’t go in," Ethan said, raising a hand.

They crouched behind a low ridge, watching from a distance.

The sky had begun to darken, a slow, unnatural dusk creeping in.

Then—

ROAR!!

A thunderous howl split the heavens.

A Bloodfiend burst into the air, wings unfurling in a spray of blood-red light. Thirty feet across, easy.

"Night has fallen!" the creature bellowed, voice like gravel dragged across bone.

"Brothers, it’s time to feast—Fairy flesh is the sweetest of all!"

Below, the shadows began to writhe.

One by one, Bloodfiends crawled from the ruins, their eyes hollow but gleaming with hunger.

Ethan’s fingers tightened around his staff.

Too many.

Twenty... thirty... no, more. A lot more.

And every single one of them was Tier 20 or higher.

He frowned. "This isn’t a fight we win head-on."

But before the words had even left his mouth—

The Fairy shot forward like a comet.

"They killed my parents!" she screamed, voice cracking with fury.

Ethan’s pupils contracted. "Wait—get back!"

Too late.

She was already streaking into the swarm, a streak of light against the dark.

Ethan clenched his jaw. "Everyone—battle positions!"

The goblins moved instantly, falling into formation.

Some hefted hammers, others raised shortbows. No fear in their eyes—only the raw, wild gleam of warriors ready to die.

The first volley of stones and arrows flew.

Blood flashed like sparks in the night.

Feylora launched herself into the air, wings of light flaring behind her. Her bowstring hummed, gathering radiant energy—

VMMM.

She loosed.

The arrow screamed through the dark and punched clean through the chest of the winged Bloodfiend.

BOOM.

A burst of blood-red energy detonated midair, the shockwave rippling outward.

Ethan surged forward, golden power rippling through his veins. He slammed his staff down, and thunder cracked from the heavens.

A wave of force crashed into the Bloodfiends, reducing several to ash.

"You outsiders—" the winged Bloodfiend snarled, still hovering, blood pouring from its chest, "You dare interrupt our feast?!"

Ethan’s smile was cold. "Your voice is really starting to piss me off."

Light flared in his palm.

And then the sky exploded.

BOOM!!!

The blast ripped through the village, a tidal wave of dust and fire. Buildings crumbled, the ground split, and the Bloodfiends were swallowed in the storm.

...

When the dust finally settled, silence returned.

One by one, the goblins lifted their heads.

Few had survived.

But those who had—stood taller. Their eyes were harder now. Sharper.

Ethan scanned the wreckage.

The Fairy was on her knees in the scorched earth, tears streaking down her soot-stained cheeks, mixing with blood.

...

Just as Ethan turned to lead them onward, a faint sound drifted from the ruins.

A whisper. A cry for help.

The Fairy’s ears twitched. She moved before anyone else could.

She darted to the rubble, clawing through broken beams and scorched stone. Her hands trembled as she lifted a collapsed roof beam—

And there, buried beneath the wreckage, were several Fairies.

Barely alive. But alive.

"There’s more down below!"

No one saw who shouted it—just that the voice cut through the silence like a spark in dry grass.

Feylora was already moving.

She sprinted forward, hands clenched, power surging through her like a dam breaking.

With a cry, she slammed both palms into the ground.

The earth cracked open with a thunderous roar. Shattered bricks and dust exploded upward in a swirling storm.

And beneath it all—a vast underground chamber came into view.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of Fairies huddled in the dark.

Their wings were broken, skin scorched, bodies dusted in the ashen remains of burnt pollen.

One by one, they began to climb out.

Blood smeared their faces, but their eyes held a fragile, unyielding dignity.

Then they saw Ethan.

A hush fell over the air as they hovered, suspended mid-flight.

That aura—they knew it.

"You saved us," rasped the one in front, her voice raw from smoke and silence.

"And you carry the power of the Fey Sovereign."

She bowed her head.

"From this moment on, you are our master."

As one, they dropped to one knee.

The air shimmered.

Something ancient stirred—an old magic, older than the forest, older than war.

Threads of light drifted from their hearts, drawn toward Ethan’s outstretched hand.

He didn’t pull away.

He raised his palm, and the mark there flared gold.

In that moment, the pact was sealed.

A new legion was born—

And they belonged to Emerald Castle.

...