He Who Hunts Demons Chapter 13: 13-Whiteclaws

Read chapter 13 of He Who Hunts Demons by A_Random_Turtle on NovelPedia.

13-Whiteclaws Fighting in a blizzard was a first for me, and the most grueling out of every battle I’ve ever faced. The wind was harsh, the cold was raw and biting, and my vision was exponentially impaired by the cluster of snow in the air. Everything merging together helped to significantly dull all that I’d gained from unlocking my Primal Trait. My sense of smell, hearing, and instinct. None was sharp enough. Regardless, I’d managed to end the lives of three of the squat rabbit monsters hopping around me, all thanks to Bel and whatever spell she was using to enhance her vision. “To your right!” she screamed, and I swerved on my feet. A silhouette appeared in the air, getting closer by the second, like a ball hurled at me. But I was faster. As soon as it exposed itself from the snow cloud, I lowered my body, pulled my arm back and lunged it forward. The bone spike I held pierced through fat without resistance, and escaped through the back of the monster hanging from it. A squeal rushed into my ears, rattling my eardrums. I immediately threw the monster to the ground and stepped on its head. It burst and the annoying squeals stopped. That made it four of the monsters. Then another came from behind me, trying to prove smart. Bel notified me. I ducked just in time and it flashed past my head. Before its paws landed on the snow, I was already upon it, preventing it from having ample time to either escape my attack or prepare to launch its. My bone spike embedded itself in the spine of the monster, drawing out a painful and horrified squeal from it, but I shut my ears to its cries. I pushed the bone spike deeper, and it went silent as the snow was painted red. That was all that had attacked—for now. I breathed out in relief. It helped that the rabbit monsters weren’t as tough as the Quatratis demons. They were agile, yes, and their squeals could most likely turn one’s brains into mashed potatoes if listened to for a long stretch of time, but they weren’t really the kind of beasts that had to take several hits to die. At most, two or three and they were done. However, the fact that they had caught us with a sneak attack had made the start of the battle rather infuriating. I touched the results of that, scratches on my arms, shoulders, and abdomen. They burned, like there were flames buried deep within my wounds, but still nothing like what I’d sustained against the Quatratis. I was fairly certain that the rabbits were multitudes of levels beneath them. And, on that note, I began to wonder why the golden words hadn’t appeared yet. Following my thoughts, they did. [You have slain five Whiteclaws each two levels higher than you] [You have grown stronger] [Level 1 → Level 2] [Your Primal Trait grows stronger] My body instantly felt a lot different at the sight of the words. It was somewhat negligible, but I felt lighter and a tiny bit stronger. However, my wounds remained, unlike how things had panned out during my battle with the Quatratis’. I assumed it was because I didn’t act like a savage this time, but I had no intention of testing if that was truly the case. Bel was here, and even if she wasn’t necessarily human, or who she’d been a few hours ago, she looked like one enough for me to feel weirded out about ripping into monsters with blood rolling down my chin like a bloody vampire. No offense to Gaston. Bel approached me then with Wyg by her side, whom I had tasked to keep her safe as I fought the Whiteclaws. Her palms opened out as she stretched them at me, and bright, cerulean light escaped from a source unknown, bathing me. The burning pain nestled in my injuries slowly fizzled out, and before I knew it, they were gone. My wounds closed up in the next instant, leaving only scars where they once were. “Are you all right?” she asked. I eyed her for a moment. Unlike me, the cold didn’t bother her very much, and from the looks of it, she didn’t seem to be craving a meal either. Wyg, on the other hand, pounced on the Whiteclaw who