All MILFs are Mine Chapter 302: There are no demons here

Deep within the southern canyons of the Duran Mountains, where the flora twisted into blackened shapes as if tainted by the soil itself, two fledgling adventurers ventured further into the shadows.

Wearing mismatched sets of leather armor, the larger of the two carried a heavy warhammer across his wide shoulders. His companion gripped a pair of thin wands with such intensity that his knuckles had turned bone-white.

"Are you certain this is the correct location?" the mage asked in a low whisper, his voice trembling.

The man with the hammer didn't break his pace.

"I've already told you a hundred damn times... Yes. This is the exact spot where my brother spotted that demon.

We bring its head back to the guild, claim a full gold coin, and we're finished. A gold coin, friend. Do you realize what that buys? I can finally open my sword shop in Lowmarket, settle down, and watch my sister grow up without the constant dread of next month's rent.

And you? You'll be able to arrange proper marriages for all three of your sisters and move your mother into a real house within the city walls. No more dirt floors. No more roof leaks."

Swallowing hard, the mage cast a panicked look at the branches above. The canopy looked like a collection of skeletal fingers reaching down.

"But we're talking about demons here..." he breathed. "Six hearts. Supernatural power. They consume human flesh as if it were bread. They don't just slay—they delight in our bodies."

The hammer-wielder let out a dismissive snort.

"Give me a break. Weren't you a royal mage? You were trained in Vengeln’s army! How can a man with your background be so terrified of a single, miserable demon?"

*Thud*

The mage came to a dead stop.

"This area... it feels wrong. Some malice is watching us. I can feel it in my marrow. There was a noise... did you hear—"

The larger man finally pivoted, slamming the head of his warhammer into the earth with a heavy thud.

*Thud*

"Alright, stop. Look at me." He gripped the mage’s shoulders with his rough hands, forcing him to make eye contact. "Do you want to turn back?"

The mage didn't miss a beat.

"Y-Yes."

A weary sigh followed.

"Fine. Fine. We'll head back. But once we return, we're taking that goblin den contract, understood? Easy money. No demons. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal," the mage exhaled, his face flooding with relief. "Let's just leave this place as fast as—"

He stopped mid-word.

His gaze darted upward.

A shadow—impossibly large and swift—moved from one tree to another.

Then...

Silence.

A heavy, crushing silence descended. No birds sang. No wind stirred. Even the faint sound of the mountain stream seemed to have been snuffed out.

"O-Oh god... Clad, look up, there's something—"

**THUD.**

The sound was wet and definitive.

The mage’s eyes slowly traveled downward.

His companion's head rolled across the dark needles on the ground, eyes wide with shock, mouth frozen in the middle of his final warning.

Blood sprayed in rhythmic arcs from the severed neck.

"N-No... that can't—"

Before a scream could escape his lips, the headless corpse collapsed like a puppet with severed strings.

And then he sensed it. He saw it.

A massive presence stood directly at his back.

Something that was not human.

A being whose shadow was twice the size of his own.

With agonizing slowness, the mage turned around.

Twelve feet of rippling blue muscle towered over him.

Four arms, each tipped with talons longer than combat daggers.

The creature’s face and claws were soaked in fresh blood, which dripped in thick, viscous strands onto the forest floor.

"Alvuia olio ca—"

"Speak one more syllable of that incantation," the demon growled, his voice sounding like grinding stone, "and I'll end you exactly like I ended your pathetic friend."

He leaned in close. His burning red eyes stared into the mage's terrified brown ones.

The mage immediately dropped his wands. They fell uselessly against the twisted roots.

"N-No... please... have mercy. I-I won't do anything. I swear I'll never return to this valley. Please... let me live. I'm begging you."

The demon tilted his horned head, looking amused.

"How about you stay quiet for—" Before he could finish his sentence.

*SHRRRKK*

The mage’s head simply... disappeared.

A fountain of blood erupted upward in a perfect, crimson spray.

"What the—!?"

The blue demon whipped his head to the right.

Hanging upside-down from a thick limb was another figure—humanoid in shape, but for the two long obsidian horns curving back from his brow and a slender tail twitching behind him.

He was masticating.

The mage’s head was held between his razor-sharp teeth like a piece of fruit.

Rivulets of blood stained his chin.

"Regoris..." the blue demon snarled, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "What are you doing out here?"

Regoris swallowed with dramatic flair and then offered a blood-soaked smirk.

"I was bored. Decided to move my legs a bit." He licked a sharp tooth. "What was your plan for that little mage, Melare? It looked like the two of you were having a lovely conversation."

"I was going to kill him," Melare replied coldly. "You stole my prey."

Regoris dropped from the branch, performing a mid-air flip with supernatural grace—only to vanish entirely before his feet could touch the dirt.

A moment later, he reappeared, perched right on top of Melare’s head like a stone gargoyle.

"Oh, it didn't look like you were in a hurry to kill him," he mocked. "You were taking your sweet time. Building the tension. Very theatrical."

Melare’s four arms coiled with tension.

"I was going to terrify him until he soiled himself, and then take his head. There is a distinction." His tone grew sharp. "And you shouldn't be here today. It's my turn for patrol."

"Is that so?" Regoris purred.

Melare swung a clawed hand to knock him off, but Regoris vanished once more.

This time, he didn't return.

Melare growled, staring up into the trees.

"I'm going to kill him..." he hissed under his breath.

High above, a crow with three eyes circled the area.

**Cawwwwwww—**

Melare threw one of his massive arms into the air.

The crow descended like a dark bolt and perched lightly on his wrist.

"What is it?" Melare barked.

"Large group..." the crow croaked in a voice like shattering glass. "Approaching the valley... Cawwwww."

It took flight again without waiting for a response.

Melare’s lips pulled back, revealing rows of jagged teeth.

"A large group, is it..."

His six hearts began to race.

A cruel, savage grin spread across his blood-stained features.

"If I butcher them all... I'll finally prove my value to Brother Ven."

He cracked all four sets of his knuckles simultaneously.

The sound rang out through the silent forest like the snapping of dry bones.