"To kill or not to kill..." Damien muttered, watching an Imp poke a terrified Elf with a spear.

In fear of being instantly killed by the Imps, none of the Drifters dared to retort, only silently hoping that someone would save them

Unfortunately, in this abyss, hoping for a saviour was as pointless as praying to a God here.

In this world, Drifters are beings who accidentally or purposely drifted into the abyss from the main world of Elias

Like him and Isabelle, the dwarf at the rust bucket, and even the insectoid that lost his life for his daughter

Being in this abyss, it made Damien realize that that everyone here lived knowing every moment could be their last

With no morals, no fear, no nothing holding them back.

It was also because of this, he could have no issues with leaving them there to die

If he walked away, he saved energy. But in doing so he would also loose a potential source of information.

These Drifters, if they had survived this long, likely knew the terrain.

"Guess I don't really have a choice then," Damien whispered. "Just don't let me down for your sake."

He turned to Isabelle, who was watching the settlement with cold, red eyes.

"Secure the perimeter," Damien ordered, his voice distorted by the mask's filter.

"Nothing leaves this place alive. If a single Imp escapes to warn a Warlord or a Tribe, our stay on this layer is going to be a lot more trouble some."

Hearing this, Isabelle nodded.

"Understood, Master," she said, her eyes flashing. "Total containment."

She stepped back, fading into the dense jungle shadows. A moment later, the air around the village shimmered faintly.

An invisible Gravity Field had been erected, a silent wall that would crush anything trying to leave.

…....…..

Giving her the order, Damien stepped out of the ferns.

With a calm expression, he walked straight down the muddy main path leading into the village, his black trench coat billowing slightly in the humid breeze.

The Imps near the fire noticed him immediately.

"Kree?"

One of them pointed. Then another. They began to cackle.

To them, Damien looked like a snack. This was probably because he wasn't radiating the terrifying aura of a 7th Order monster. In fact, he felt… quite small.

Damien had mentally locked his Core. He suppressed his Golden Dragon Aura and his Hollow King's pressure.

In order to test his new weapon, he limited his strength to third order, just enough to match the,

'If I use full power,' Damien thought, watching the twenty-five demons scramble for their weapons. '

The chains will just snap through them like wet paper. To master this weapon, I need to feel some  resistance.'

"Fresh meat!" an Imp screeched in broken Common, licking its chops. "Soft skin!"

A group of ten Imps charged, raising their bone spears and rusted knives.

Damien stopped walking. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Soft?" Damien tilted his head, the metal mask gleaming under the bioluminescent lights.

He flicked his wrists.

RATTLE.

From beneath his sleeves, the dark metal coils shot out.

*Bang!*

The Scourge of the Rat King unspooled like black cobras striking from a burrow.

Unlike the Pantheon Sword, which was rigid and direct, the chains were fluid.

Not only that, but by applying his will on it, it's lethality increased by several times.

[Will Art: Claddingl].

Mid-air, the chains twisted, in a flash they began curving around the bone spears of the lead Imps.

SNAP.

The left chain wrapped tightly around the neck of the first attacker.

Damien seeing this yanked sideways.

"Anchor," Damien whispered.

He used the first Imp as a living flail. He swung the screaming demon in a wide arc, smashing it into two of its kin.

The impact shattered bones, turning the three demons into a tangled pile of limbs.

The remaining seven hesitated.

Damien didn't give them time.

He lashed out with his right hand. The chain flew straight this time, a dark spear.

THWIP-SHING.

The serrated blade at the tip bit into the shoulder of a charging Imp.

It wasn't a deep wound. Just a scratch.

But the Rat King's Toxin didn't need depth.

"Rot," Damien commanded.

The Imp froze. Its red skin turned black around the wound.

The corruption spread instantly, racing through its veins. In less than three seconds, the Imp collapsed, foaming at the mouth, its blood turning into black sludge.

"Too slow," Damien critiqued himself, retracting the chain with a snap.

The Imps shrieked in terror. At this moment, they realised that they were the pray not the hunters.

They tried to swarm him. Spears thrust from all sides.

Yet Damien simply began to spin.

He entered a flow state. The chains became a whirlwind of steel around him. He parried spears with the chain links.

He swept legs. He disarmed opponents by wrapping the chains around their wrists and yanking.

It was a rhythmic slaughter.

CRACK!A skull crushed.

SNAP! A spine broken.

HISS! The poison taking another victim.

Damien stood in the center of the chaos, barely moving his feet. He was the eye of the storm, conducting an orchestra of violence with iron strings.

In the blink of an eye most of the attackers were dead and the last three Imps had long since dropped their weapons and ran.

They scrambled toward the edge of the jungle, shrieking for help.

However., just as they reached the tree line.

CRUNCH.

They reached an invisible boundary, Isabelle's Gravity Field!.

Under this field, they were flattened instantly, pressed into the mud until they were nothing but red stains.

Silence returned to the clearing.

Damien stood amidst the bodies. He hadn't drawn his sword once. He wasn't even out of breath.

He retracted the chains. They coiled back up his sleeves with a satisfying mechanical whir.

"Too easy," Damien muttered, his metallic voice disappointed.

"Isn't there a bigger challenge around here."

BOOM!

As if answering his request, the largest hut at the back of the settlement exploded outward.

A massive, hulking shape stepped out of the debris, roaring with enough force to shake the cages.

Damien looked up, his eyes locking onto the new threat.

[Target: Imp Lord (Tier 6 - Early Stage)]

[Weapon: Obsidian Great Axe]

Damien grinned behind his mask.

"My mum did always tell me, ask and you shall receive."

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