Urgot held the dying warrior upright for a moment, their faces inches apart, then pulled his weapon free and let the body fall.

Three down. All six Crimson Scales eliminated.

He turned to see how the others were faring, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Freda stood at the tent's entrance, her hands weaving complex spell patterns as magical energy swirled around her. She wasn't fighting—she was preparing something big, something that required intense concentration and couldn't be interrupted.

Shadow had simply disappeared after the initial entry. One moment the cloaked figure was there, the next they were gone, likely positioning themselves for a crucial strike at the perfect moment.

And at the center of the tent, Lord Satou faced King Vexor in single combat.

It was unlike any fight Urgot had ever witnessed.

They moved with supernatural speed, their forms blurring as they exchanged strikes faster than the eye could properly track. Satou's blade, wreathed in that existence-erasing darkness, met Vexor's corruption-enhanced claws again and again, each impact sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

The serpent king was monstrously strong, his body moving with fluid grace that shouldn't be possible for something so large. His tail lashed out like a massive whip, forcing Satou to dodge while simultaneously defending against claw strikes from multiple angles.

But Satou was faster, more precise. [Nightmare Sight] allowed him to see Vexor's intentions a split-second before they manifested, giving him just enough warning to stay ahead of the increasingly desperate attacks.

"You're good," Vexor hissed, those multiple-toned voices carrying dark amusement even as he pressed his assault. "Better than the pathetic lizard assassins who tried before. But you don't understand what you're facing. I am beyond death now. I have been touched by the First One, blessed with power that transcends mortal limitations!"

As he spoke, the sickly green energy around him intensified, and Satou felt the corruption trying to invade his own aura. This wasn't just dark magic—this was something older, more fundamental. Reality itself seemed to reject Vexor's presence, space warping slightly around him.

He's not fully corrupted yet, Satou realized with tactical clarity. But whatever ritual they're performing, he's directly connected to it. He's acting as a living conduit for the First Demon Lord's power.

That changed everything. Simply killing Vexor might not be enough—they'd need to sever his connection to the ritual simultaneously, or the dark magic would just keep him animated even after death.

"Freda!" Satou called out without taking his eyes off Vexor. "I need a purification spell! This bastard is connected to whatever ritual you were talking about!"

"On it!" The young elf's voice carried absolute focus as her spell-weaving intensified. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the effort. "But I need time! Purification magic strong enough to sever a conduit connection requires at least thirty seconds of uninterrupted casting!"

"Then you'll have it," Satou promised.

He launched himself at Vexor again, but this time his strategy changed. Instead of trying for killing blows, he focused on containment and distraction. Keep the serpent king's attention completely focused on him. Keep those corrupted claws and that powerful tail occupied defending rather than attacking.

[Shadow Blade] activated, creating phantom copies of his weapon that struck from impossible angles. Vexor had to defend against five blades simultaneously—four illusions and one real weapon, never knowing which was which until impact.

The king's movements became more frantic, more defensive. He snarled in frustration as one of Satou's strikes got through his guard and carved a deep gash across his scaled shoulder.

Vexor seemed to realize what Satou was doing, his corrupted eyes narrowing with inhuman intelligence. "Clever. You're stalling. Keeping me occupied while your mage friend prepares something nasty. But you're forgetting one critical detail—I have eight hundred warriors in this camp. Even if you kill me, they'll tear you and your companions apart!"

As if summoned by his words, Satou heard shouts from outside the tent. The sounds of combat had finally attracted attention. Footsteps thundered toward the command tent from multiple directions.

"Shadow, now!" Satou commanded.

The mysterious cloaked figure materialized from literally nowhere, appearing directly behind King Vexor with a long, curved blade already in motion. The strike was perfect—aimed at the precise point where the serpent king's spine met his skull, angled to sever both the physical nervous system and the magical channels simultaneously.

But Vexor's corruption-enhanced instincts screamed warning. He twisted with impossible speed, Shadow's blade missing the kill shot by millimeters and instead carving a deep gouge across his shoulder.

The king roared in pain and fury, his tail whipping around like a massive club. Shadow tried to dodge but wasn't quite fast enough—the tail caught them in the ribs with bone-crushing force, sending the cloaked figure flying across the tent to slam into a support pole with a sickening crack.

"Shadow!" Freda cried out, her concentration wavering for just a moment.

"Don't stop!" Shadow's magically-altered voice, despite obvious pain, carried absolute command. Blood seeped through their robes where broken ribs had likely punctured flesh. "Finish the spell!"

Freda's hands resumed their complex patterns, magical energy building to critical levels around her. The air itself seemed to vibrate with power.

"Twenty seconds!" she called out, her voice strained with effort.

The tent flap burst open, enhanced serpent warriors flooding in with mindless aggression. There were too many of them—easily twenty corrupted soldiers, all moving with mechanical precision toward the intruders.

Satou made a split-second decision.

[Domain of the Nightmare King].

The skill activated, and reality within a fifty-meter radius changed. Shadows deepened and became almost tangible. The air grew thick with oppressive dread. Temperature dropped sharply enough that breath became visible. And most importantly, every being within the domain's range except those Satou designated as allies found their worst fears manifesting as semi-real phantoms.

The enhanced serpent warriors, despite their emotional emptiness, still had primitive survival instincts buried deep in their corrupted minds. Those instincts suddenly screamed terror as they found themselves surrounded by their personal nightmares—flames that couldn't be extinguished, drowning in endless water, being slowly devoured by unseen predators, whatever horrors their subconscious still remembered from before the corruption took hold.

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