Chapter 292

Chapter 292: 292

Neo watched the demon rise from the cracked stone floor. Purple demonic power still leaked from the deep cuts he had already carved into its thick hide. The beast’s eyes burned with raw hate. It swung the massive axe in a wide, deadly arc aimed straight at Neo’s face. The blade moved fast—too fast. Neo cursed under his breath and shoved hard off the floor with both hands. His body twisted sideways. The steel edge missed by the width of a finger. Wind from the swing slapped his cheek and ruffled his hair.

The demon did not pause. It charged forward, axe already rising again, and brought the weapon down with every ounce of its strength. Neo tried to roll clear, but the demon had activated a speed skill the moment the swing began. The axe blurred. Neo’s prediction of its path was wrong. The blade slammed into his left shoulder. Bone cracked under the force. White-hot pain tore through muscle and joint. Neo grabbed the axe handle with both hands and heaved upward, trying to lift the steel free of his flesh. For a long, grinding moment the blade stayed locked in place. Blood poured down his arm in thick streams.

Then something worse began.

The wound refused to close. A living lump of pure purple demonic energy had already nestled inside the torn meat. It fed greedily, swelling larger with every heartbeat. Within seconds the parasite grew to the size of Neo’s own head. He clawed at it with bloody fingers. The mass was slippery and hot. His hands passed through it without purchase. He could not tear it free.

The demon swung again without mercy. This time the axe crashed into Neo’s chest. Ribs snapped open with wet cracks. White bone showed through the spreading blood. The same purple substance slid off the axe edge and poured straight into the new wound, vanishing under the skin. Neo squinted through the pain, mind racing. The parasites came from the weapon itself. Every time the steel cut him, the infection followed.

He forced a deep breath into his ruined lungs and thought faster than the pain could slow him. Both hands pressed hard against the open chest wound. He pushed mana into his blood first, then flooded that blood with pure holy power. At the same time he coated his entire body in a thin, shining layer of the same holy energy. The parasite on his shoulder shuddered. Holy light burned it from the inside. The mass shrank, hissing and smoking, until it was no larger than a clenched fist.

Neo’s eyes snapped back to the demon. The demon had already turned away. It sprinted down the long stone hallway, searching for any open door that might offer escape or ambush. Neo cursed and launched himself after it. His boots pounded the floor. Torchlight flickered past in orange streaks. He closed the gap step by step, raised one hand, and formed a spear of pure holy light. The spear shot forward and punched clean through the demon’s broad back. The beast crashed face-first into the stone with a heavy, final thud that echoed off the walls.

Neo gave it no chance to rise. Stardust spears formed one after another in his hands. He drove them deep into the demon’s back, switching energies with every strike—holy light, stardust, raw mana—making certain each wound carried a different kind of damage. The flesh stopped regenerating as quickly. Neo kept working, boots planted on the wide back, hammering down again and again until the hallway smelled of burned demon meat and ozone.

After long minutes of constant assault he opened his palm wide. Stardust energy gathered in a swirling vortex until a complete spear took solid shape. Still not enough. Neo closed his eyes and focused on the invisible mana that had always been the key. He had fused the energies in the wrong order before, wasting power and creating weak results. Now he lined them up correctly—steady, precise, no wasted steps. Power flooded his core like a breaking dam. Strength surged through every muscle and bone. He opened his system status with a thought. Strength: fifty-seven stars. By this world’s measure he had just reached level forty.

Neo seized the finished spear and drove it straight down into the demon’s spine with every bit of the new power. The massive body ballooned outward like an overfilled water skin. Then it burst. Purple parasites and demon flesh exploded across the hallway in a spray of light and gore. Every last parasite vanished in the blast.

Neo stood over the remains, chest heaving, blood still dripping from his shoulder and ribs. Footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway—steady, unhurried, armored. Vel, the golden knight, walked toward him at a measured pace. Her armor still shone under the torchlight despite the dried blood that streaked it.

"It’s been a long time," she said. Her voice was calm, almost polite, but her eyes never left his.

Neo checked her level. His heart sank hard. Level sixty. She had grown stronger while fighting the demons that plagued these halls. He shaped a sword of pure stardust and wrapped his body in armor formed from the invisible mana. The two of them closed the distance. Their blades met in the exact middle of the hallway. Sparks exploded outward. The air itself split around the clash with a sharp crack.

Vel’s eyes widened a fraction. "You’ve gotten stronger."

"So have you," Neo answered, pushing against her blade.

"Not as fast as you," she said. "This was my hidden level. The curse kept it locked away until now."

They locked swords again. Steel rang against steel in a rapid, ringing exchange. Vel’s control of the basics was perfect—every foot placement, every angle of the wrist, every shift of weight. Her swordsmanship still sat a full step above Neo’s. The only reason he stayed in the fight was the raw, overwhelming dominance of his own style. Even so, the gap showed clearly. Vel’s strikes came faster than Neo could fully track. She drove him backward, step by forced step, until his shoulders slammed into the cold stone wall.

Neo shoved off the wall, formed a fresh stardust sword, and poured power into it until the blade glowed white-hot. He coated the outer edge with invisible energy. The weapon shone bright and clean, almost beautiful. He swung with the full force of his chest, shoulders, and the new strength flooding his arms. The blow sent Vel flying across the hallway. She slammed into the opposite wall hard enough to leave a deep, spider-webbed dent in the stone.

She was on her feet in an instant. Her legs tensed and she shot forward again like a golden arrow. They crashed together in another furious exchange of cuts and parries. Sparks and displaced air filled the space between them. After a while a cold blue light lit behind Vel’s eyes. Neo started losing track of her blade. Fine cuts opened on his arms and sides. Blood ran down his skin in thin lines. He laughed out loud even as the wounds burned.

"Your swordsmanship—even after I copied it I still can’t make it fully mine. That’s real talent."

He gritted his teeth, took the exact stance Sa had once shown him in another life, and copied the technique again with perfect memory. The next flurry of cuts landed hard and true. For the first time Vel was forced onto the pure defensive. Neo pressed the advantage without mercy, slashing without pause, driving her back toward the dented wall.

Then Vel’s eyes flared with a blinding blue light. Mana poured out of her armor in visible streams and flooded her sword. She took a strong, rooted stance. Golden energy rose around the blade—not the scattered sparks Neo remembered from their first fight, but a continuous golden river that wrapped the steel and fed it without end. The sword shone like molten gold under the torchlight.

Vel lunged. The blade became a second streak of pure light aimed straight at Neo’s wounded shoulder. He caught the strike on his own sword and shoved it aside with a grunt. Vel’s feet barely touched the floor before she attacked again—a barrage of golden slashes too fast to count individually. Neo was driven backward step by step until his heels slipped on blood-slick stone and he landed hard on his ass.

Vel raised the glowing sword high above her head. Golden power gathered along the edge until the air around it hummed. Neo’s arms felt like lead weights. He could not lift them. He closed his eyes. The descending blade seemed to move in slow motion, every detail sharp. It slammed into his already damaged shoulder. Pain exploded white-hot through his entire body. A raw shout tore from his throat.

Then Princess Nana’s voice rang down the hallway, clear and desperate and loud enough to cut through the ringing in Neo’s ears.

"Please stop!"

Vel froze mid-swing. The golden blade halted a hair’s width from Neo’s neck. She turned toward the sound. Three women walked forward together from the far end of the hallway—Princess Nana in the lead, followed by the Queen and the Great Queen. Their dresses were travel-worn but still fine. Nana’s eyes were wide and wet.

Neo’s eyes widened in pure relief. "Nana! You’re safe!"

Nana ran the last few steps and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him hard, breath warm and shaking against his mouth. Her body pressed tight against his bloodied chest.

"It’s great, Uncle Neo. You’ve come again, just like I wished in my dream."

Neo’s hand landed on the soft curve of her ass and gave it a firm, open-handed slap. The sound cracked sharply in the quiet hallway. "What exactly did you dream about me?"

Color flooded Nana’s cheeks in a deep, spreading blush. She could not hold his gaze. Her voice dropped to a shy, almost whispered level. "You... saving me." She still could not look him in the eye. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt.

Neo slapped her ass again, harder this time, watching the way her body jumped and the red deepened across her face and neck. Heat radiated from her skin under his palm. "Don’t worry. I’ll enjoy you. We’ll both feel good. All right?"

Nana nodded quickly, almost desperately. She turned toward her mother and grandmother, still flushed and breathing fast. "Look, Uncle Neo. We’re all here. We could even bathe together."

Neo’s cock throbbed hard against the front of his pants, pressing insistently against the fabric. He kept his hand on Nana’s ass, fingers digging into the soft, yielding flesh, feeling the heat of her skin and the way she trembled under the touch. "All right."

He pushed himself up from the floor, muscles protesting, blood still seeping from the wounds that holy power had only half-closed. The moment he stood fully upright, Vel’s sword tip settled against the front of his pants, right over the hard length of his dick. The steel was cold and precise.

"Do a single thing to Nana or any of us," Vel said, voice flat and cold as winter stone, "and I will end you like the dog you are."