Dragon Heart: Land of Demons. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 7

by Kirill Klevanski

  “Yes, my Prince.”

  The Prince spurred his horse down the hill. Takemeya sneered at Arkemeya and rode after him.

  Waiting until they disappeared behind the hills, Hadjar decided to act. He had thought up another crazy plan. Capturing a demon meant capturing a creature equal in power to a human Lord, after all.

  Just like he’d done during the storm, he directed his energy from his core to his meridians, and then into his body. Using the sixth stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique, he disappeared in a puff of black fog.

  “Don’t move.” Hadjar placed the tip of his blade between Arkemeya’s shoulder blades. “If I so much as feel your energy, my sword will devour you before you even turn around.”

  Chapter 599

  Hadjar had honestly had no idea that he could move so quickly. However, he was well aware of the fact that he was still far from Anise Dinos’ speed, but at least he was now faster than her brother.

  Hmm, I wonder why she never tried to become anyone’s personal disciple… She certainly has what it takes, he thought and then immediately shook his head. He had to focus.

  Looking back at the demoness, he was shocked to find that he’d been able to capture such a strong creature. Holding her by the throat, the Black Blade pressed against her back, they stood in silence for a moment. He made sure that his blade didn’t sink into her energy body, but he still kept its predatory wisps of hungry fog dangerously close to her meridians and nodes.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” Arkemeya asked.

  Hadjar smiled broadly.

  “You’re a scout, aren’t you?” He asked back.

  Judging by the way her neck muscles tensed, Arkemeya also smiled.

  “You’re either very brave or very stupid. In any case, I’ll get all the information I need out of you, and then you’ll take your place in our fields.”

  “I’ll make sure to say hello to your mother… Don’t move!”

  Feeling the energy stirring inside Arkemeya, Hadjar allowed the Black Blade to take a nibble of her Spirit.

  “One more word about my mother, human,” she hissed threateningly, “and, by the Evening Stars, I’ll send you to your forefathers even if it costs me my life.”

  Hadjar shuddered. It had been a long time since he’d heard anyone other than Einen and himself mention the Evening Stars.

  “Are you from the Sea of Sand?”

  The girl shuddered at his question.

  After she’d mentioned the Evening Stars, Hadjar had involuntarily began to think of her as human.

  “You must be very proud… You’ve captured a demoness. If it hadn’t been for my Prince, human, I would’ve crushed you.”

  “I doubt it,” Hadjar replied. “You failed to detect me while I was listening in on your con-”

  Hadjar stopped talking, but it was already too late. He’d said too much. Arkemeya just smiled.

  “Stupid boy,” she hissed. “I’ve been manipulating idiots since before your parents walked this earth.”

  “Ugh, shut up!” Hadjar sighed. “Someone is always older than the stars, someone is always older than the earth, than the sky, than the pebbles in the river. By the way, you can stop bluffing, I know you’re younger than me.” He twisted the Black Blade, letting it eat some more of her Spirit and making her groan in pain. “You’re 23. No, 21. You’re 21 years old. Which means this ‘boy’ is older than you.”

  They stood in silence for a moment. Hadjar squeezed his sword’s handle tighter, aware that Arkemeya wouldn’t really tell him anything useful as she knew that he couldn’t let her walk out of here alive.

  Fucking intrigue! He clenched his teeth to prevent himself from cursing out loud. He’d avoided interrogating people even back when he’d been the Mad General. He’d given the scouts and the torturers a list of questions, and then waited for answers. He’d never asked them how they got the info out of the prisoners. He’d slept much better that way.

  “How many of you are there?” Hadjar whispered.

  The smell of flowers in Arkemeya’s hair was a stark contrast to the lifeless rocks of the gorge and the black ash that was still falling from the sky.

  “Why should I answer your questions, human? You’re going to kill me anyway. Let’s just get this over with. Take my life, and hope that your death will be quick. You won’t leave this gorge alive.”

  Removing his hand from her throat, Hadjar cut his palm with the Black Blade and held it out in front of the demoness.

  “I swear on my parents’ graves that I won’t take your life.”

  His blood flared and the wound instantly healed.

  “You’re an idiot,” Arkemeya stated. “Do you really think that’s enough to make me talk? Do you think I’m so weak and cowardly that I value my life more than my Prince’s?”

  “I won’t take your life.” Hadjar let the Black Blade eat some more of her Spirit. Arkemeya cried out in pain. “But I will let my sword devour your energy body. You won’t die, but trust me, living as a mortal cripple is a fate worse than death.”

  Silence fell over them once again. Hadjar took the opportunity to get a better look at Arkemeya. Her wavy, raven hair fell over her thin, pale shoulders and back. Slender fingers clutched the hilts of two curved sabers sheathed on her wide hips. She wasn’t the most beautiful of the Dah’Khasses, but in Dahanatan, she would’ve had a lot of admirers.

  “There’s 7329 of us, ranging from the initial stage of the Spirit Knight level to the peak stage of the Lord level,” Arkemeya suddenly said.

  “Wise choice.” Hadjar nodded. “What level are the King and Queen?”

  “The initial stage of the Nameless level.”

  Hadjar didn’t know what level the Emperors of Darnassus and Lascan were exactly, but he guessed that they were close to that. By the Heavens, they had to kill someone as powerful as an Emperor!

  “Where does the King live?”

  “In the Palace.”

  “I repeat: where does the King live?”

  “In the Palace,” Arkemeya repeated with a huff. Before Hadjar sent a mental command to the Black Blade, she added: “I’m bound by an oath, you idiot! I can’t just tell you where the King lives!”

  Hadjar swore.

  “But you can show me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Swear it.”

  “Will you let me draw my weapon?”

  “No. Hold out your hand.”

  Arkemeya did so obediently. Forming a ghostly blade using his will and the mysteries of the Weapon’s Heart, he cut the demoness’ palm with it. He only managed to scratch her a little while feeling resistance equal to a Heaven level artifact. He stared at the demoness in disbelief. Arkemeya was as powerful as the best Mentors of ‘The Holy Sky’ School! If they let the Dah’Khasses out of the gorge, they’d really be able to create their own Empire.

  “The Weapon’s Heart?” Arkemeya asked in surprise. “Well, maybe you aren’t an idiot after all. I’ve never heard of a Heaven Soldier with such a deep understanding of a Weapon’s Spirit before.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. Now repeat after me.”

  It took them about ten minutes to make a blood oath, not because Arkemeya argued with him, but because Hadjar changed the wording many times, as there were just too many loopholes to account for. The oath he ended up settling on was so long that it wouldn’t have fit in a scroll. However, it was foolproof.

  When Arkemeya’s blood finally flashed gold and the wound healed, she lost the ability to act independently. He felt disgusted with himself when he realized that by forcing her to swear that oath, he’d basically made her into a slave.

  “Will you put your sword away now?”

  Hadjar pulled the Black Blade out of her back, but then immediately cut off a piece of his cloak and blindfolded her.

  “What are you-”

  “Be quiet and follow me,” he ordered. Arkemeya closed her mouth and did so.

  Blindfolded and bound, she was more submissive
than a tame dog. It was an unpleasant sight.

  By the High Heavens, what will my forefathers think of me after this?

  Hadjar turned away from her. By doing so, he failed to notice a black tear roll down the demoness’ cheek as he led her toward the rocks.

  Chapter 600

  “What is this strange cloak?’ Arkemeya asked after several minutes of silence.

  They crawled along the sheer cliff, clinging to even the smallest ledges and ignoring the wild gusts of wind. No mortal would’ve been able to withstand these harsh conditions.

  Hadjar knew that blindfolding Arkemeya was a useless gesture. He’d done so out of habit, not necessity. However, the demoness had soon begun to complain about not being able to orient herself, claiming that she couldn’t even see energy like this. Hadjar knew that she wasn’t lying as the oath prevented her from doing so while they were still within the territory of the Dah’Khasses. What’s more, she couldn’t take his life for six years after they parted ways. However, the oath didn’t prevent her from trying to find out something about him.

  “It’s a simple cloak.” Hadjar shrugged and pulled the half-breed up by a simple rope. “The more you talk, the longer it’ll take us to get-”

  “Where?”

  Hadjar swore and stopped talking, convinced that he’d probably just said something he shouldn’t have.

  Then again, he’d never thought of himself as a good strategist. His understanding of subterfuge was limited to sneaking around and creating diversions. He’d usually let the pros handle the rest. And judging by the fact that Arkemeya had survived among the demons for this long, she must’ve been a pro.

  Damn it! I captured the daughter of the Dah’Khasses’ King! He realized.

  “Your accent, human… It’s strange.” They continued to climb, looking like bugs against the backdrop of the huge mountain shrouded in black clouds.

  “I’m from Lidus,” Hadjar replied casually.

  “You fool!” She laughed. “Rivers of blood will run through your lands when my troops get there!”

  “Good luck with that. You’ll have to cross the Darnassus Empire first. By the way, you’re not allowed to tell anyone that I’m related to any Empire other than Lascan. I forbid it.”

  He could see her eyes narrow in annoyance despite the blindfold.

  “Tell that to your parents, whom I’ll personally place next to you in our fields.”

  Hadjar laughed.

  “To do that, you’d have to go to your forefathers first… Do Dah’Khasses even have forefathers? Ah, but you aren’t a Dah-”

  The rope that Hadjar had wrapped around himself and the demoness suddenly tightened and he felt a frighteningly abnormal disturbance in the flows of energy. Turning around, he saw Arkemeya emanating a golden glow. Having never encountered such a power before, he stared at her in bewilderment, convinced that she could easily kill even Freya, the strongest creature he’d met in this world so far.

  “One more word, human,” Arkemeya hissed, either from anger or from the pain caused by her attempt to break her oath, “and we’ll die together.”

  “Calm down,” he said. “I don’t plan on dying today. I just don’t like you trying to mock me.”

  Arkemeya hissed something in an unfamiliar language and let go of the rope. They walked the rest of the way in silence.

  When they reached the plateau, Hadjar dispelled his Call, as it was draining his energy far too quickly…

  Arkemeya touched her face. “It’s gone,” she said, surprised.

  “Wow,” Hadjar whispered in amazement, gaze focused on something in front of him.

  Arkemeya looked over at him. She wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Staring ahead, she looked like a child that had been taken from her village to the big city for the first time. She looked at the wet stones and the raindrops as if they were a miracle. There was no such beauty to be found in her lands.

  Mesmerized, she held her hand out toward the rain, then closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Hadjar sat down on a nearby rock and looked at her. He neither liked nor hated her. He didn’t feel anger or pity for her, either. In his eyes, Arkemeya was just another opponent that he had to defeat in order to survive.

  He remembered a time when he’d stood in the rain just like she was standing now, back when he and Einen had kicked a ball around in the dirt. By the Evening Stars, it had been the happiest few minutes of the last two long years of his life. He didn’t want to deprive the demoness of such joy, even if she was his enemy.

  He wasn’t sentimental…

  Or so he kept telling himself.

  “Taste it,” he said, smiling slightly.

  Arkemeya opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

  “Water,” she whispered. “They told me about it when I was a child.”

  “Did your mother tell you about it?”

  This time, Arkemeya didn’t get angry.

  “She was from Kurkhadan.” The familiar name brought back memories and reminded Hadjar that there were no coincidences in this world or his life. “She told me that there was a lot of water there.”

  “It really is a beautiful place.”

  “Have you been there?” She asked and turned to face him.

  Hadjar flinched. In his opinion, Steppe Fang seemed more human than her. No matter who her mother was, no matter what color her blood was, she’d still been raised by demons, and was thus closer to them than to humanity.

  “I have.” Hadjar nodded.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Hadjar looked toward their camp and felt the memories of the days he’d spent in the oasis flow back to him.

  He really wasn’t sentimental…

  …or so he kept telling himself.

  Chapter 601

  “Hello, hunter.” Steppe Fang was still sitting next to the fire and grinding something in his mortar. “I can sense that you aren’t alone-”

  He saw Arkemeya, and Hadjar realized a bit too late that having the two meet wasn’t such a good idea.

  “A Dah’Khass!” Steppe Fang roared and jumped to his feet, knocking over the mortar. Two axes appeared in his hands, the silhouette of a wolf emerged behind him, and his body was covered by gray armor that resembled a wolf’s coat.

  “Animal.”

  Arms crossed, Arkemeya observed the orc with a sneer. Steppe Fang snarled in reply, baring his lower fangs, and took a step forward.

  “Calm down, giant,” Hadjar said and stepped between the two.

  “Get out of my way, North Wind!” The orc growled. “I’ll kill this beast!”

  “I know,” Hadjar retorted. “But if you do that, we’ll lose a valuable source of info.”

  Confused, Steppe Fang froze and turned to him.

  “She’s affected your mind, Darkhan.” He swung one of his axes, aiming to hit Hadjar’s head with the blunt side in order to snap him out of it.

  “No! No!” Hadjar waved his hands around frantically. “I captured her and made her swear an oath.”

  Steppe Fang’s eyes widened. He kept shifting his gaze between Hadjar and Arkemeya.

  “You’re strong, Darkhan, I’ll admit it, but she’s stronger than you. And me. And most of the free hunters in my tribe. Only Bear’s Rage can deal with her.”

  “Well, I got lucky.”

  “Or she’s trying to trick you,” the orc persisted.

  Hadjar looked at Arkemeya, who just smiled at him. And although that possibility was there, it was borderline insane. He couldn’t imagine doing anything crazier than surrendering and then pledging an oath to your captor who just happened to be a cultivator. Right now, he could order her to die and she would have to obey. If she refused to kill herself, the World River would do it for her.

  Hadjar shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s impossible.”

  “Until a few days ago, it was considered impossible to fly over the lands of the Dah’Khasses.”

  “Did you really fly over the Black Heaven Curtain?” Arkemeya
asked in surprise. Taking a cautious step forward under Steppe Fang’s heavy gaze, she looked at the rocks and the wreckage of the ‘Drunken Goose’. “Hmm…”

  “Hmm? What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said innocently and sat down on a stone.

  Hadjar narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right.

  “Arkemeya, I order you to answer my question.”

  “Nothing,” the demoness repeated.

  Hadjar sighed. Why were things always so complicated?

  “This could take forever.” Hadjar rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. “Or you could save us some time and just tell us what you know.”

  “Or you can just order me to do it, master.” She emphasized the last word with malicious glee.

  Steppe Fang looked at her, then at Hadjar, and then waved his hand dismissively. Sitting back down in front of the fire, he sheathed his axes, dismissed his Call, and, after picking the mortar back up, returned to grinding herbs.

  The Lascanians still lay unconscious behind him. However, they looked better than they had an hour ago.

  Has it really only been an hour?

  “I don’t want to have to order you around,” Hadjar said honestly.

  Arkemeya looked into his eyes. Few people could stand direct eye contact with him. Even Markin, one of the mighty Mentors of ‘The Holy Sky’ School, had looked away first when they’d met. But Arkemeya kept staring. She looked into his eyes without hesitation or fear. Hadjar saw a glimmer of something inhuman in her sky-blue eyes. Something unpleasant.

  “Why?”

  “Once, long ago, I used to give orders, and it didn’t lead to anything good.”

  He remembered how the sword of a Spirit Knight had taken the life of his brother. Back then, he’d been weak, but now… Now he’d send him to his forefathers with just two attacks.

  “Liar.” Arkemeya spat out the word. “Don’t try to fool me, you miserable human. Once a slave, always a slave.”

  Hadjar recoiled.

  Arkemeya grinned triumphantly. “You don’t know much about Lords, do you, Hadjar Darkhan? Don’t be surprised that I know your Name. If you ever reach my level, you might finally come to understand how complex this world truly is, and that my equals and those who are stronger than them see it differently. The mark of the slave is still branded upon your soul. You can’t hide it from those who can combine both types of energy.”