Chaos Warlord: Reincarnated in Eldrich with the Devil System!

In the heart of the forest, under the shade of towering trees and amidst the rustling leaves, the world had always felt calm and serene. Nature's lullaby was often a comforting backdrop for dimension explorers like Val and Oliver. However, on this fateful day, that lullaby was interrupted by a sensation neither had ever felt before.

The ground beneath them trembled, shaking and vibrating as if Mother Earth herself was resonating with an unknown frequency.

Oliver, slightly less stable on his feet than his companion, almost stumbled and fell as the shockwave rolled through the ground beneath them.

The world spun for a moment, his feet struggling to find purchase.

But before he could fall victim to the unexpected jolt, Val's reflexes kicked in. He reached out, swiftly grabbing Oliver, ensuring he remained upright. His grip was strong and reassuring, steadying them both in that unstable moment.

Just as they were trying to make sense of this unexpected turn of events, the ambient noise of the forest and the gentle rustling of leaves were suddenly overshadowed.

The symphony of nature was disrupted by a sound so distinct and powerful that it felt as if a thousand horses were galloping with fervor. It was a rhythmic, pulsating noise that approached them with increasing intensity.

The source? It was coming from directly behind them.

In the face of danger, instincts can sometimes override thought. It's as if the primal part of the brain takes charge, and for both Val and Oliver, that instinct was to identify the threat.

Turning on their heels, they faced the direction of the advancing sound that was getting closer and closer with each passing moment.

What greeted their eyes was a horrifying sight, the likes of which they had never imagined in their wildest dreams.

A vast group, appearing to have the lower bodies of horses but the upper torsos of well-muscled humans, charged towards them.

Some among this massive group had sheaths tied to their waists, from which the hilts of swords menacingly protruded.

Others bore quivers filled with arrows on their backs, holding bows in their hands, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

And they did just that when they caught sight of a small group of monsters, shooting them dead.

It was clear they weren't friendly.

The moment they spotted someone, they would kill it!

Val's mind raced. He'd seen creatures resembling these in both the movies of his previous world and the books of this world. Centaurs, they were called in those movies. But here, in Eldrich, they were known by a different, more fearsome name.

That name was Ashtines.

The Ashtines were not only physically imposing, but their jet-black eyes, deeply set, hinted at a keen intelligence. On top of having a strong physique, they were strategic, observant, and always alert. These eyes, piercing and vigilant, could catch even the most subtle of movements. Their reputation preceded them - they were known to be ruthless, their cruelty legendary. They relished in hunting prey that could move and offered a challenge.

Luck, it seemed, was momentarily on Val and Oliver's side, for the dense foliage provided a temporary cloak, shielding them from the Ashtines' piercing gaze.

The duo was invisible for now, but they knew that this respite would be short-lived. Once spotted, the Ashtines would relentlessly pursue them. But Val and Oliver, hidden under the canopy of leaves, didn't think they would be able to evade detection for too long. Their cover was useful only for now as there was a considerable distance between them and the Ashtines. But this distance was rapidly diminishing, and once it was gone, the Ashtines would be upon them.

The weight of the situation pressed down on them. The Ashtines, with their sheer numbers and might, posed a grave threat.

The next course of action was crucial, for the slightest misstep could lead to a chase, and possibly, a deadly confrontation.

With a grim expression, Oliver looked at Val and spoke with an urgency that betrayed his inner turmoil. "Val, it's inevitable."

Val, always the more contemplative of the two, raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

"If we stay here," Oliver continued, a tremor in his voice, "The Ashtines will surround us in no time. And once they do, our fate would be in their hands. But given what we know about them, expecting mercy is a fool's dream. They never let anyone survive on that frail hope. They'd certainly kill us without a second thought." He paused, taking a deep breath, "And if we attempt to flee, the moment they catch sight of us, they won't hesitate to rain arrows upon us."

Val nodded, his face an unreadable mask, "I'm well aware, Oliver."

Oliver's voice quivered with anxiety, "Then what's the plan? Do we stand our ground and fight or do we risk it all and flee?"

Val responded with a stark clarity, "They're too fast, Oliver. You can't possibly hope to outrun them. Running isn't an option for us."

Oliver's eyes widened as a thought struck him, "You said 'I' can't outrun them. Are you implying that you can?"

Val looked straight into Oliver's eyes, his gaze unwavering, "I can, but I won't."

A heavy silence filled the space between them as the weight of Val's statement settled. The reason why he wasn't escaping was because he didn't want to leave him behind to die. But if he was willing to go so far for him, who said Oliver also didn't have the same intention?

Breaking the silence, Oliver's voice held a tinge of desperation, "You know what? it's better one person dies than two. I'll create a diversion, draw their attention. That'll give you the chance to escape."

He had no intention of dragging him down with him.

Without waiting for Val's reaction, Oliver was about to dash out of their hiding spot, ready to sacrifice himself. But just as he made his move, Val's hand shot out, gripping Oliver's arm firmly, pulling him back into concealment.

"You crazy bastard!" Val whispered, his voice laced with anger and concern, "There's absolutely no need for such a reckless act. Yes, the Ashtines greatly outnumber us, and it's true that standing against them head-on would be futile.

"And while they're so swift that fleeing together might seem impossible, there's still a way out," he added with a mysterious smile.

"Val, we're running out of time. No room for riddles! What are you suggesting?" Oliver's frustration was palpable as he spoke in a voice that was low.

Val took a deep breath, readying himself for the revelation.

"The solution is relatively simple, Oliver. But you need to trust me. Completely, unconditionally. Can you do that?"

Locking eyes with Val, the urgency and fear in Oliver's gaze was replaced with sheer determination, "Always."

Val had won his trust for life the very first time he saved him from the claws of death!

As the looming threat of the Ashtines weighed heavily upon them, Val leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper as he outlined the details of their escape plan to Oliver

Oliver's brows furrowed as he listened, trying to process the audacity of the plan. "Will this even work?" he asked, skepticism evident in his eyes.

Val met his gaze, a fierce determination evident, "It's our best shot." Reaching into his pocket, he produced a pristine mirror, its surface reflecting the dappled sunlight that filtered through the trees. Handing it to Oliver, he inquired, "Do you remember the path you need to take?"

Oliver's eyes darted momentarily in the direction of their escape route. "The western path," he said.

Val nodded, "Get ready. The moment I give you the signal, you make a break for it."

Taking a deep breath, Val began a rapid sequence of motions. With each punch he threw into the air, a radiant fireball manifested. The first, then ten, then twenty. As the count climbed, so did the intensity of the blaze, until fifty fireballs roared in the forest's silence. By the time the fiftieth fireball was released, Val was on the brink of exhaustion, his stamina bar down to its very last count as he had drawn from his White Devil bloodline too much power in too little time.

Boom! 𝘣𝘦𝑑𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝑙．𝑐𝑜𝘮

The fireballs collided with the ground, creating a series of massive explosions that resonated through the forest.

The force of the blasts decimated several Ashtines instantly, while others were thrown off-balance.

A thick cloud of dust and debris rose, mingling with the intense heat of the fire, forcing the Ashtines to instinctively halt and retreat.

Seizing this opportune moment, Oliver, with the mirror clutched firmly, broke into a sprint towards the western path.

"Hmm?"

The tribe leader's gaze latched on to a hazy silhouette through the dust and smoke.

Then, it clicked.

The explosions, he realized, were a diversion meant to allow the figure to escape—a diversion that claimed the lives of many of his brethren.

The tribe leader's eyes flashed with unbridled fury. Enraged, he wanted the person responsible for all the misery caused to his tribe dead. After all, he viewed the massacre as not only a physical attack on his people but a direct affront to his leadership and pride.

'I have to kill the wrongdoer, or else what kind of leader would I be?'

Grief-stricken voices pleaded for orders to tend to the fallen, to mourn their passing and honor their memories. However, consumed by his fury, the tribe leader had only one objective in mind: retribution. He shouted, pointing towards Oliver's retreating figure, "After him! Do not let him escape!"

A brave tribesman, perhaps one of the elders, mustered the courage to reason with the leader, "But sire, the flames are overwhelming. It's too perilous to pursue through such an inferno."

The leader's eyes blazed with impatience, "Fool! Who speaks of chasing him on foot? Archers, to the front! Take him down from a distance!"

Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the ranks. The expenditure of so many arrows, a valuable resource, on a single target seemed excessive. Yet, no one dared challenge the leader's authority openly. With disciplined precision, the archers stepped forward, each retrieving an arrow from their quivers and notching them onto their bows.

"Release!"

The command was absolute, and in response, a thousand arrows soared upwards, arcing gracefully in the dusky sky. They all had only one destination. It was Oliver!

From a distance, the scene might have resembled a rainstorm, with shafts of arrows descending like raindrops, but there was an evident menace in this storm. Oliver, despite sensing the imminent danger, didn't stop running at the top of his speed, his breathing shallow, his heart pounding fiercely against his chest.

And as his imminent doom seemed certain, something miraculous transpired.

Blood Manipulation!

A low and thick voice roared out and a crimson tide, like a surge of blood, rose from the ground.

It soared upwards, stretching high into the sky, forming a formidable barrier between Oliver and the deadly shower of arrows. The liquid rapidly solidified, taking on the consistency and appearance of a massive blood-red shield, its intention was as clear as day. It has appeared to protect Oliver from the lethal rain of arrows.