A few hours earlier.
Lucas stepped out of the ruined spider nest, leaving the pulsating blood-red cocoon behind. Riven's transformation would take time. There was no reason to wait.
He turned toward the massive Nyxclaw Ursus standing nearby.
"King."
The beast lowered its body. Fortunately, it could retract the sharp abyssal crystals along its back and limbs at will. Without that ability, mounting it would have been impossible.
Lucas climbed up and settled between the thick ridges of muscle. The moment he was secure, King rose and began to move.
From within Lucas's shadow, the Imp had grown noticeably more cautious.
Unlike its master, the little devil fully understood what kind of predator the Nyxclaw was. Hierarchy in the Abyss was absolute. A low-tier devil normally wouldn't even be allowed to breathe in the presence of a mid-tier beast.
Yet the Imp still muttered to itself in the safety of the shadows.
I can't allow this beast to take my place… I am still the first servant.
After a while, it finally voiced the question that had been bothering it.
"Master… why did you let that woman consume the mutation crystal? You could have sold it, or given it to someone more useful."
Lucas was smiling like a child who had just received a rare toy. He had always been a car enthusiast. Riding this beast felt like sitting atop a walking disaster — and he was enjoying every second of it.
King's casual walking speed already far surpassed what Lucas could achieve on foot. Every other monster fled the moment they sensed its presence.
Lucas glanced down at his shadow with an amused smile.
"There are no bad outcomes, little Imp. She either becomes my servant… or my meal."
The Imp fell silent, then nodded.
Master is always wise, it thought. I am still too shallow.
Time blurred.
The sky of Pandemonium darkened into a deep crimson night. With the new summon by his side, killing became almost effortless. When an E-rank abyssal wolf tried to ambush them, King smashed it into the ground with a single casual swipe. The creature didn't even have time to scream.
Lucas stored the corpse. For the first time since entering the trial, his spatial storage was nearly full.
He checked the ranking.
Almost fourteen hours had passed.
Current Ranking:
1. Alex Vanderbilt
2. Silas Crowe
3. Lucas Vanderbilt
4. Damien Blackthorn
Damien was clearly pushing hard to overtake him.
Lucas allowed the Imp to scout ahead. As King continued its steady advance through the twisted forest, he found himself wondering where Yuna, Vivienne, and Kira had ended up.
Just then, the Imp returned and knelt within the darkness beneath the Nyxclaw.
"Master… I found something."
Lucas's casual smile faded.
"Speak."
"A short distance northeast. A Dark Witch and a group of werewolves. They have captured a female student — brown hair, high-quality combat uniform. She is bound, gagged, and being dragged deeper into the forest."
Lucas's eyes narrowed.
"Continue."
"The witch forced her to inhale a greenish smoke. The girl's body began reacting. The witch said she would make a perfect maiden to give birth to a human child for their ritual."
A brief silence followed.
"…Brown hair. High-quality combat uniform." Lucas tapped one finger lightly against King's fur. "Did you see her face clearly?"
"Yes, Master. It matches the girl who often stays beside the younger Vanderbilt. Chloe Bennett."
Only the heavy footsteps of the Nyxclaw filled the air for a moment.
Then a slow, dangerous smile spread across Lucas's lips.
"Chloe Bennett…" he murmured. "Alex's precious little girlfriend."
His smile widened slightly.
"How interesting."
He looked ahead into the crimson darkness.
"King. Change course. Northeast."
The massive beast turned without hesitation and accelerated, its heavy paws crushing the ground beneath them.
Lucas rested one hand on its neck, eyes gleaming with quiet amusement.
"An opportunity like this doesn't come twice. Let's see just how valuable Alex's woman really is."
King moved through the twisted forest with surprising silence for a creature of its size. Even Lucas was mildly impressed. The beast seemed to understand his intentions without needing spoken commands.
It did not take long.
The trail led them deeper into the forest until King finally slowed and stopped, melting into the deeper shadows between two massive mana-draining trees. From this elevated position, they had a clear view of the clearing ahead.
A shallow riverbed stretched across the area, its banks covered in sparse, drained grass. In the center stood a crude wooden hut patched with dark hides and bones. Beside it was a larger warehouse-like structure of rough timber and blackened stone. A fire pit burned outside the hut, casting flickering orange light into the crimson night.
Four to five werewolves patrolled the perimeter. Most carried no weapons, relying on claws and raw strength. Their movements were restless.
One stood out.
Near the hut entrance, a larger werewolf in mismatched black armor paced slowly. Curved swords hung at its waist. A deep scar ran across its left eye, and its posture was far more controlled than the others. This one was clearly of higher standing.
There was no visible sign of Chloe, but the way the armored werewolf occasionally glanced toward the hut made it obvious she was being held inside.
Lucas remained still, blue eyes calmly assessing the layout.
The Imp whispered from his shadow.
"Master… the girl's scent is strongest near the hut."
Lucas gave a small nod.
"I see"
His fingers lightly tapped against the Nyxclaw's fur as a cold smile formed.
"Can you enter without them detecting you?"
The Imp materialized and knelt, silver eyes gleaming with pride.
"Of course, Master. These lowly creatures could never detect me."
"Go on, then."
The Imp briefly glanced at King. The massive Nyxclaw looked down at it with open arrogance. The little devil straightened its body, held its head high, then melted back into the shadows and slipped beneath the hut without a sound.
The moment the Imp entered, the air changed.
The interior was dimly lit by flickering bone candles. Dried herbs, animal skulls, and dark runes covered the walls. A heavy, sickly-sweet scent mingled with residual greenish smoke to fill the room.
In the center, Chloe Bennett was tied to a thick wooden post.
Her arms were bound tightly above her head, ankles secured at the base, forcing her body into an upright, vulnerable position. Her combat uniform had been further torn, exposing her shoulders and the upper curve of her chest. The gag remained firmly in place. Long brown hair clung to her flushed face in messy strands.
Her cheeks were deeply red from the drug. Her breathing was uneven. Her thighs pressed tightly together as unnatural heat continued to pulse through her body. Her eyes were half-lidded with residual haze and clear humiliation.
The Dark Witch stood in front of her, stirring a black iron pot over a small fire. An ugly smile stretched across her dark lips.
"Keke… just a little longer, human," she muttered. "Who in the Seven Hells would have thought I could finally find a virgin human girl in this outer land…"
She picked up a crude syringe-like needle and carefully drew the thick, dark liquid from the pot.
The wooden door creaked open.
The scarred leader werewolf stepped inside. His single good eye immediately drifted toward Chloe's bound body. He licked his lips, a low, hungry growl rumbling in his throat.
"Old hag," he said, voice rough and thick with lust. "How about you stop playing with your little potions and let me have a turn with this pretty little human first?"
The Dark Witch clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"Patience, you mongrel. Once the drug fully settles, her body will be soft and ready. You can have your fun after the first ritual injection."
The leader werewolf's gaze remained fixed on Chloe. His clawed fingers twitched as he took another step closer, eyes roaming over her restrained form without shame.
From the deepest corner of the shadows, the Imp observed everything in silence. After gathering enough information, it quietly slipped out and moved toward the warehouse.
The moment it entered, a heavy stench of blood and decay filled its senses.
Several human girls lay discarded across the dirt floor like broken trash. Torn dresses clung to their cold skin. The expressions frozen on their faces made the truth clear — they had been used, violated, and then discarded.
The Imp confirmed the details and returned to its master.
It reappeared within Lucas's shadow and delivered the full report.
"What are your orders, Master?"
Lucas did not reply.
A full minute passed in silence. Only the distant crackle of the fire and the occasional growl of the patrolling werewolves could be heard. King remained completely still beneath him.
Finally, Lucas spoke, his voice calm.
"What emotions can you smell from Chloe?"
The Imp carefully sensed the residual emotions.
"Fear… humiliation… and forced arousal, Master. The greenish smoke has clouded part of her mind, but she is still conscious. Beneath the drug's influence, there is also a strong sense of helplessness… and hatred toward the ones who captured her."
Lucas listened in silence, blue eyes fixed on the distant clearing.
A faint, cold smile returned to his lips.
"Helplessness and hatred… Perfect."
He leaned forward slightly, resting one hand against the thick abyssal fur.
"We can't just watch while my little brother's girlfriend is being defiled, right?"
Lucas jumped down from King's back and landed softly on the cracked ground.
"Imp. Hide inside again," he ordered quietly. "Let the drug take its full effect before you report anything further. The moment I arrive, cloud the witch's mind."
The Imp nodded once and dispersed into the shadows without a sound, slipping back toward the hut.
Lucas turned toward the Nyxclaw. The massive beast was watching him with a curious, almost evaluating gaze.
"Listen carefully, King," Lucas said, voice low and steady. "This is what we're going to do…"
He explained the plan in concise, clear terms.
By the time he finished, a flicker of approval appeared in the Nyxclaw's violet eyes. Without needing a second command, the beast silently moved to Lucas's left, ready to act the moment the signal was given.
Lucas pulled Voidreaver from his spatial ring and planted the tip of the greatsword into the ground. He inhaled slowly, then looked up at the crimson sky of Pandemonium.
His expression was calm, almost detached.
"There is no good or bad in this world…" he murmured.
"…Only survival matters."
**
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