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17.27% Headed by a Snake / Chapter 198: Who Are You?

Chapitre 198: Who Are You?

"Hah... haha..." Tycon chuckled, wearing a slight grin. He had found a new toy.

The demon who spoke out sported two black spikes on his face like a fancy beard. Tycon stomped one last time on the teeth of the fallen demon before approaching Spike-Beard.

"You... Ah." Tycon wagged his finger, "You're the smart one. I should have asked you, to begin with."

The demon took a step back. It opened its mouth, searching frantically in its mind for something to say.

"What is my name?" Tycon tilted his head, "You've a question? You've an answer? Tell me... I'm. Absolutely. Thrilled. To hear it."

Tycon continued to step forward. The demon continued to step back.

The demon sought for a name. It longed for it. It found none.

Of course, there was no answer.

Hard rocks poked into the demon's back. It struggled to press its body smaller against the walls. Would it bleed? Is it bleeding? Is the fear enough to make the demon pierce its own flesh upon the rocks? Crack its bones? Split its skull? Cry and beg to live its miserable existence?

It opened its mouth. It tried to speak. Nothing. Still nothing.

Tycon stuck his thumb into the demon's mouth, grabbing hold of its cheek.

Like an intimate lover, he leaned forward to whisper into its pointed ear, "You... don't know, do you?"

Streams of tears began to fall from the creature's yellow eyes as it babbled apologies in Abyssal.

"How. Disappointing," Tycon slowly widened his smile into a grin.

With only his grip on the demon's cheek, Tycon smashed the unfortunate bastard's head against the sharp wall. After several rock-busting cracks to the side of the demon's skull, it stopped its futile struggles and lost consciousness.

Tycon turned around, wide-eyed.

"Oh! I've forgotten!"

The remaining demons looked to each other with uncertainty and fear. There were still four left.

"I never told you my name! Isn't that hilarious?"

The demons cracked weak, terrified smiles, and chuckled politely.

Tycon stood up straight and sheathed his sword. He didn't bother wiping the blood from the brass handguard, "You worthless shite-lings will refer to me as Boss. Any issues?"

"N-no, Boss."

"NO ISSUES, BOSS!!"

"GRARHHRGGRHHHOAHHRLA!!!!!"

"Catherine says she has no issues, Boss," one of the demons translated.

...

It appeared that Lone and Wolfrider had finished. The two of them had worked as a team to slay their half of the enemies.

...It would have made more sense to split the enemies into thirds, but everything seemed to work out.

"Oh, I was so scared, Mister Lone!" Margeaux revealed her dramatic concern.

How useless. How long could one person exist, being weak and pitiful, until she grew tired of it?

Sasha was safe. She had managed to build a sand-castle of the red-orange sand. Miniscule flecks of crystal had gotten into her hands. Tycon sighed. The flecks would develop into a painful and itchy irritation. They needed to be washed out with running water, mild soap, and maybe a soft rag.

"Well done, you two," Tycon congratulated wolf-boy and wolf-hammer. A stronger-than-usual tinge of sarcasm stained his words. Admittedly, Tycon was still frustrated.

"Um, Boss," Lone frowned, "Should we... take out these demons, too?"

"Don't bother. They're temporary parts of Invictus now."

Tycon lifted his two arms out to his sides.

His traveling companions gawked in confusion.

"(Raise. The Master. To the exit,)" Tycon ordered in broken Abyssal.

One on the left and the other on the right, two demons picked up Tycon by his arms and began carrying him forward at a steady jog.

Lone shrugged, "Let's... let's follow him."

...

"(Here. Down.)" Tycon commanded his new demon escorts.

He was placed down rather ungently.

Gentle was not... a commonly practiced trait of demonkind.

"Which one are you? Are you Catherine?" Tycon asked one of the demons who had carried him.

"No, Boss. My name is--"

Tycon punched the demon in the throat, "Work on your gentleness while carrying persons of importance."

"Y-y-yess.... Boss..." The red-skinned humanoid managed to cough out.

Lulu was splayed out on a rock, relaxing. Her robes were open, revealing a naked shoulder and most of her left breast. She sat up a bit, adjusting her clothing, "Heyy~! Boss. Who are theeeese? They look *weak*."

"They are. You can have them."

"Hah. I don't want them," She scoffed, smirking like she couldn't believe what Tycon had offered.

Tycon frowned, "Well, neither do I. If you don't want them, perhaps I'll just have them killed."

The six demons had knelt down and placed their foreheads to the floor.

Wait, six? It appeared that two of the defeated followed their companions instead of hiding back in the crags.

Ludicrous.

"(Please, Mistress Lucifer!! Don't kill us, we'll do anything!!")"

It was the demon with the two black chin-horns. That one seemed slightly smarter than the others.

""""PLEASE DON'T KILL US!!"""" The demons shouted in unison.

...The fact that they did so in the Common tongue made it a slight more impressive.

"These low-level demons are surprisingly practiced at begging to live," Tycon offered.

Lulu frowned, "I dunno... being a parent is a big responsibility."

Tycon opened his mouth to continue speaking but hesitated... He shook his head, "Anything interesting about the next floor?"

Lulu leered creepily, "Och yahhh? What'cha wanna see on thaaaa next floor? Mayyyybe your giiiiirlfriiiiennnd?"

Tycon thought of Princess Aurala. Eh... No, they didn't have that kind of relationship... but it would be nice to see her again. An evening spent with her would improve his mood greatly.

He frowned, "Seeing a familiar face that could not logically be here would be greatly disturbing."

"Y-yeah, I guess it would be, huh." Lulu stood up and swept her blonde curls out of her eyes, "Hey, Boss. I do have a question, though."

Tycon raised an eyebrow, "Yes? Go ahead, Miss Lulu."

The demoness interlaced her fingers and held her arms straight down, swaying as if she were a nervous teenager, "I mean, now that we're alone..."

What was she playing at?

"Well, we're not really alone... there's..." Tycon glanced back at the six-- eh? There were seven!! Where did they keep coming from??

The blonde woman closed her eyes. She took a step back and grasped the end of her parasol tightly. Her eyes flashed open, filled with mana and glowing scarlet red.

"Who are you?" She demanded.


L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS
CouchSurfingDragon CouchSurfingDragon

Tycon - “Why are you pouting, young lady?”

Sasha - “...Sasha wanted to be carried by horn-people.”

...

How's this cliffhanger? The Author is rather proud of it.

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