Chapter 218

Chapter 218: Chapter 218

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" she asked quietly, stepping close enough that her words were for his ears only, not wanting to undermine him in front of his warriors but needing to express her concern.

"I need to know what I’m capable of now," Satou replied, equally quiet but with unmistakable intensity beneath the words. "Need to understand these new powers in practical application before we face Merc Assault or whoever actually sent him after me.

Lyra studied his face for a long moment, reading the barely contained fury beneath his calm exterior, the trauma expressing itself as aggression. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Alright. But I’m supervising. The absolute moment someone gets seriously hurt or you start to lose control, I’m calling it off. That’s non-negotiable. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Satou confirmed without hesitation. He appreciated her concern, even if he thought it was unnecessary.

He turned back to the assembled warriors, who were still processing the idea of essentially fighting their demon lord as a group. "So? Who’s brave enough to spar with me? Consider this an honor—not many people get to see what I can really do when I’m not holding back. And you’ll all gain valuable experience fighting against someone significantly more powerful than yourselves, which might save your lives someday."

Griminir was the first to step forward, hefting his massive practice axe with renewed energy despite his recent defeat at Kelvin’s hands. That fierce grin returned to his face, showing his tusks. "I’m in! Been wanting to see what you’re really capable of, Lord Satou! Plus, how often do you get to say you fought your own demon lord?"

"Me too," Kelvin added, moving to stand beside Griminir and bringing his spear to a ready position. "Though I’m probably going to regret this tomorrow when every muscle in my body is screaming. If I can even move tomorrow."

Urgot came next, pulling a practice warhammer from the nearby weapon rack with obvious enthusiasm. "Father would never forgive me if I missed this opportunity. He’s always saying I need more experience against truly superior opponents. I’m in."

One by one, the other warriors moved forward, some with eager expressions, others more hesitant but unwilling to be left out. They formed a loose semicircle around Satou, spreading out to cover multiple angles. Fifteen fighters total—a mix of hobgoblins and orcs, all of them at least competent and several of them genuinely skilled. A formidable force under normal circumstances.

Against most opponents, this would be overwhelming. But they already knows satou is too strong and powerful because he dominated everyone the last time , but this time they aint as the same as before , now they all have gotten stronger.

"Rules!" Lyra called out, taking charge of the logistics with her usual efficiency. "Wooden practice weapons only—absolutely no metal. First blood doesn’t end the match, but serious injury does and I’ll stop the match immediately. Lord Satou wins if he incapacitates all of you. You win if you force him to yield or knock him unconscious. Any questions before we begin?"

"Just one," Kelvin said, a wry smile crossing his face. "What happens when he obliterates us all in under a minute? Do we get points for trying?"

"Then you learn what true power looks like," Satou replied, his eyes gleaming with anticipation that was equal parts excitement and something darker. "And you tell your children about the day you fought your demon lord and lived to remember it. Now come on. Show me everything Urgak’s been teaching you. Don’t disappoint me."

The warriors spread out, forming a wide circle with Satou at the center. They exchanged quick signals—hand gestures and subtle nods that indicated they’d practiced fighting as a coordinated unit. Kelvin seemed to take tactical command naturally, his hand signals directing others to specific positions. They were planning something, coordinating angles of attack, identifying who would strike when.

Satou stood relaxed in the middle of them all, Void Fang sheathed at his hip, hands loose and empty at his sides. He wasn’t reaching for any weapons. Wasn’t activating any obvious abilities. Wasn’t taking any particular defensive stance. Just waiting with calm patience, his breathing steady, his expression neutral but anticipatory.

The contrast was stark—fifteen warriors in combat stances, muscles tense, weapons raised, all preparing for assault. And one man standing calmly, almost casually, in the center of their formation.

"Begin!" Lyra called out, her voice cutting through the pre-dawn air like a blade.

For a heartbeat, for one stretched moment of perfect stillness, nobody moved. It was as if the entire world held its breath.

Then Griminir roared—a deep, primal sound that came from his chest, designed to intimidate and energize—and charged. His massive frame barreled forward with surprising speed, practice axe raised high for a devastating two-handed strike, his footfalls heavy enough to thud against the packed earth.

It was the signal the others had been waiting for. All fifteen warriors attacked simultaneously from different angles, their coordination showing hours of practice fighting together as a unit. Some went high, some low. Some attacked from direct angles, others flanking. The assault was perfectly timed, perfectly executed, a textbook example of how a coordinated group could overwhelm a superior individual opponent.

And Satou smiled—a cold, anticipatory expression that would have looked more at home on a predator eyeing helpless prey than a leader facing his own people.

"Perfect," he whispered, his voice barely audible under the sounds of approaching combat.

Then he activated his new abilities, and the real fight began.

[Nightmare Sense] flared to life first, one of the abilities he’d gained from consuming those nightmare demons in the dream realm. Suddenly, Satou could perceive the intentions behind every attack before they fully formed. It wasn’t quite precognition—not seeing the future, exactly. More like reading the nightmare-self of each opponent, seeing the violence they intended to commit as shadowy projections that appeared half a second before reality caught up with those intentions.

Griminir’s overhead chop was projected as a dark blur above him. Satou sidestepped casually, minimal movement, the massive practice axe slamming into empty ground where he’d been standing with enough force to leave an impression in the packed earth.