As soon as Lord Takamura finished giving the order, a figure emerged from the shadows behind him. It was a demon with vibrant red skin and yellow eyes without pupils, which glowed like embers. On top of her head, two black horns cut through the air, surrounded by hair that was not strands, but blue flames that crackled constantly. She wore black armor, detailed and fitted to her feminine body, following the same armored style as Takamura.
She placed her hand on the Lord's spiked shoulder pad and warned him. "Lord Takamura, the Red Core is a rare resource. Using it now is a risk that could cost us our future plans."
Takamura did not move. "Tara... In all the time we've been together, we've never heard of a man with brown skin. That stranger's color is not a blemish; it is his nature. He can only be one of the 'Specials'. If we capture him, the power he will give us will be worth more than 100 cores."
For those demons, the logic was simple: they knew no other lands than those. In their ignorance, Afro's skin tone was not a matter of geographical origin, but a sign of a powerful and divine mutation.
Tara nodded. She knew the invasion had to be strategic. In that world, villages were protected by seals on the walls that created an invisible barrier. Entering was difficult: the stronger and denser a demon's body was, the greater the barrier's resistance against it. If Takamura tried to force his way in alone, the Red Core would be instantly depleted due to his immense power.
"Send five of our inferiors," Takamura ordered. "They are weak and light. Let them absorb a fraction of the Core's flame. It will be enough for them to cross the barrier and open a breach from within."
The five chosen demons stepped forward. They were small and agile, perfect for infiltration. Tara approached a black stone altar at the back of the cave. There, rested a chest made of lead and monks' bones, sealed with chains that emitted a cold glow to contain the heat inside.
She opened the chest, and a red light illuminated her face. Inside, wrapped in ancient ashes, was the Red Core: a pulsating sphere of corrosive energy that looked like a torn-out heart still beating. The air around her began to heat up, and the smell of ozone and burnt metal filled the cave.
She carefully removed the sphere, feeling her own armor heat up, and prepared to share the heat needed to break the seal on the village. The hunt for the supposed Eighth Specialty had officially begun.
As Tara prepared, the atmosphere in the cave became suffocating. She recited a guttural spell, and the red sphere began to float between her hands. In a fragmented way, like strands of incandescent silk, the Dao left the sphere and concentrated in the palm of her hand.
Two medium-sized demons watched the scene, shielding their eyes from the sickly light.
"Why waste such a core on such a small village?" whispered the younger one.
The other, a weathered veteran, explained without looking away: "That is a master's Dantian. Lord Takamura ripped it from an elite Daoist a few moons ago. Most humans are born with the Base Dao, some have the Golden or Retro Dao, and others, but the Red... the Red is distinctive, it is pure heat and corrosion. It is too unstable for most human bodies, but perfect for what we are going to do."
The veteran pointed to the five lower ones waiting for the ritual.
"The logic is simple," he continued. "We demons have no human life energy; the seals on the walls sense our emptiness and repel us as if we were poison. To trick the barrier, General Tara will infuse the Red Dao directly into these inferiors. They will be covered by a temporary human life aura. It's an energy camouflage. Thus, the barrier 'thinks' they are human and lets them pass."
Takamura watched the strands of red energy snake through the air, with two Base Dao Cores between the fingers of one of his left hands. The spheres glowed with a dull, ordinary light, like polished stones of little value. He could have used those spheres to camouflage his soldiers, but the Dao Base is rudimentary. Using it would be like trying to rub coarse sandpaper on fine silk: the village barrier would sense the "difference" in pressure immediately, sending out a vibrational alert that any adventurer or rival band miles away would detect.
Takamura squeezed the base cores, feeling their mediocre consistency.
"Red is the only way today," thought the Lord, as his horns picked up the vibrations of the outside world.
The village was saturated. With the Blue Festival just around the corner, the inns were overflowing with elite adventurers and mercenaries ready to test their blades. If Takamura made a single noise at the barrier, it would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the other demon gangs prowling the forests. They would come like vultures, attracted by the "flaw" in the system, hoping to plunder whatever he found.
The Red Dao, however, was silent in this. He did not force his way in; he harmonized with the barrier, corroding it without altering its frequency. To human sensors and the noses of rivals, the barrier would appear intact, while his five inferiors would already be inside, moving like shadows among their prey.
Tara's ritual reached its climax. When the fraction of the Red Dao was released, there was no delicacy: the scarlet lines of energy shot out like incandescent whips, embedding themselves in the chests of the five inferiors.
The effect was immediate and brutal. They fell to the ground, writhing in violent spasms. Their muscles swelled and retracted beneath their gray skin, which boiled with human heat forced into demonic biology. Dread spread among the novice demons watching; they did not know that receiving power was torture. For Takamura, it was simply the logic of life: those not born with fire must be burned by it if they want its strength.
Night fell like a heavy cloak over the province. The cave was almost empty; the band had already scattered into the shadows of the forest. Only Lord Takamura remained motionless at the entrance, his black armor absorbing the cold moonlight as he gazed at the horizon.
The five inferiors rose. Suffering had given way to a strange vitality. When they approached to speak, Takamura interrupted them with a sharp gesture. He bent down, his six-foot frame intimidating them, and grabbed each of their faces, examining them closely.
The demons' empty yellow eyes had changed. Now they possessed human red pupils, perfectly simulated by the Red Dao. Takamura released them one by one, satisfied. The biological disguise was complete.
"Go," he growled.
They took off like arrows. They were euphoric; the Core had not only given them camouflage, but a rush of adrenaline and strength they had never felt before. They ran so fast that they left trails of scarlet aura on the damp grass.
When they reached the village wall, there was no hesitation. The first demon leaped with a force unusual for a demon of his caliber. The moment he crossed the perimeter of the barrier, there was absolute silence. There were no sparks, no sizzling flesh, no alarm. He passed through the mystical seal as if it were nothing but air.
Evil smiles tore across the invaders' faces. They now moved across the village rooftops, swift and silent as cats, searching for prey. The village slept, but the silence was short-lived for those who crossed the path of the five. Any unlucky human on the street was grabbed and chewed on the run, bones crunching between teeth as the demons leaped from roof to roof.
Until the scent changed. The earthy, dense, vibrant scent of Afro hit their noses with the force of a punch. They stopped at the top of an inn, their human pupils dilated with hunger.
"It's right there..." hissed one of them.
The five demons advanced across the roof with predatory calm, one of them leading with his nose glued to the tiles, tracking the dense scent. It was then that a window opened. A human, drunk on liquor, came out onto the roof laughing at the night.
"Tomorrow... tomorrow there'll be more," he mumbled, before freezing.
In front of him stood five figures with human eyes, but an aura of death. Before the scream could escape, a demonic hand covered his mouth. Four of the invaders paused to contemplate the terror in the drunkard's eyes, waiting for the fear to ferment in his blood to the perfect point for consumption. The demon's mouth opened slowly, savoring the terror.
The fifth demon did not wait. He slid through the open window. The smell inside was deafening.
Inside. The ebony-skinned man was not lying down. He was standing next to the bed where the child slept. Afro was bent over, drooling, his eyes lost in an abyss of absolute hunger, just inches from the girl. He looked as if he were about to devour her to satisfy the fever that consumed him.
As soon as the demon entered, Afro slowly turned his head. There was no dialogue. There was only a burst of movement.
The ebony hand grabbed the demon's head with hydraulic force. In the blink of an eye, Afro dragged the monster out of the room, jumping into the alley between the inn and the neighboring building. The demon didn't even have time to process the pain before its skull was smashed against the stone wall. Afro didn't stop; he began biting and tearing pieces of demon flesh right there on the wall, fixed like a rabid animal.
Up on the roof, the other four demons watched, stunned. The lights in the neighboring inn came on. "What was that noise?" Human voices echoed.
Afro dropped the mutilated corpse and looked up. Before the demons could react, he jumped. What followed was a blur of violence. Afro tore the invaders apart one by one. The drunkard pissed himself and fell onto the roof, crawling toward the edge, sobbing in panic.
The demons' blood, black and hot, began to drip from the roof into the inn. As Afro ripped out the last invader's guts and stuffed them into his mouth to regain his lost strength, the drunkard finally managed to let out a breath.
"DEMONS! THEY'RE DEMONS!" The scream tore through the village night.
Heavy footsteps began to echo inside the inn. Adventurers grabbed their weapons. But on the roof, the horror was not over yet. Afro jumped on the drunkard, knocking him to the ground. With his hand on the man's neck, Afro growled like a rabid dog, his ebony skin stained with black blood. He could smell human fear, a fear much sweeter than that of demons.
Afro opened his mouth, teeth bared, ready to consume what remained of that terror.