Bologue maintained his stance of swinging the blade, drawing out a new folding knife.
The Scythe was hard and sharp, but the part connected to the flesh was not as strong and remained flesh and blood; the folding knife could slice through it.
"Come, closer, and closer."
Bologue taunted, uncovering his coat, taking another folding knife from the strap, and gripping it in reverse.
The two folding knives crossed together, forming a cross-shaped shield in front of him.
The narrow corridor restricted the Demon and also protected it; Bologue couldn't get around to the weak spot at its back to attack or maneuver with it.
Either retreat or advance.
The "void" would twist the Demon's flesh and its pitiful mind; this Demon had been hungry for too long, its body mutated into such a form, its mind must be almost gone.
Like a wild beast.
Bologue was the first to break the standoff, recklessly lunging forward, swinging the folding knife, slashing downwards.
Such a rash blow was easily blocked by the Demon; by instinct, another Scythe swung up, exploiting the vulnerability Bologue exposed, slicing toward his waist and abdomen. Bologue could only raise the reverse-gripped folding knife to barely stop this strike, but the reverse-gripped knife didn't stop; instead, it continued to swing upward.
A sharp ringing pierced the eardrums as blades scraped against each other; the Scythe was deflected, and the reverse-gripped folding knife was also thrust over the head, spinning a circle of blade flowers before being held firmly again.
This wasn't a reckless attack but a premeditated feint.
The Demon had no time to defend; half its body was exposed under Bologue's folding knife, and soon it lost sensation in half its body.
Slowly turning its head, it saw the entire left arm had completely collapsed, a sharp folding knife deeply embedded in its flesh, hacking into it, splitting muscle and bone, just like a tree struck by Thunder, the body split in two, the wound extending to the waist, and vaguely visible writhing viscera.
A shrill howl rang out, dizzying Bologue, and the Demon tried to lift the broken left Scythe, but the folding knife was deeply embedded, unable to exert any force.
It head-butted against Bologue, dragging him forward, crashing him out of the stairwell, falling between floors along the spiral staircase.
Biting hard on the folding knife in its left shoulder, tearing it out, blood gushed out, but it seemed to feel no pain, scarlet twisted eyes peering through the floor, searching for the fallen Bologue.
No trace, Bologue had disappeared, but then it realized something had appeared in its vision.
A mirror, a smooth mirror appearing within eye contact.
Soon, scarlet blood smeared over the mirror, dripping down.
This was not a mirror, but a Silver blade.
Bologue gripped the edge of the railing with one hand, hung mid-air, holding a folding knife in the other, and as the Demon poked its head out, pierced through its skull.
Using all his strength to yank it down, some residual consciousness made the Demon struggle, but to no avail, Bologue flipped over to straddle the Demon, tightly gripping the folding knife, refusing to let go, and even trying to forcefully enlarge the wound.
The two entangled, crashing into the stairwell, finally landing in the main hall on the first floor.
Dust and debris rose, blurring the scene, as Bologue walked out of the smoke, holding the Demon's head in hand.
Exhaling deeply, he casually tossed the head aside, looking around, silence everywhere, and then murmuring whispers broke the silence, hideous and bizarre shadows emerged from the darkness.
Demons, countless Demons, too many for Bologue to bother counting.
The stench was suffocating; without exception, these Demons had deteriorated to a certain extent, their consciousness and form completely distorted, leaving only the hunger for soul.
Grotesque appearances, with some looking like sickly ordinary people, others like insects, beasts, and some like conglomerations of twisted limbs, leaving Bologue unsure where its head was.
It was like a mad parade of deformities.
The hoarse voices overlapped like sound waves, pressing over Bologue, yet he showed no sign of fear, though his body trembled.
Trembling with excitement.
Dazzling azure light rose from the mantis-like Demon's corpse, merging into Bologue's body, a sense of satisfaction filling his heart, making the restless void fall into tranquility.
With a normal person's mindset, facing such Demons, in such a situation, it seemed only prayers remained.
Bologue indeed was praying.
"Thank what god, thank what heaven."
He muttered gibberish, taking off his coat to let his body stretch freely, the left hand folding knife positioned in front, the right hand folding knife held high, the back of the blade tight against his shoulder.
"Truly thankful."
Bologue expressed sincere gratitude.
To him, these were no longer sinister Demons, but a bounty of aromatic meals awaiting Bologue to feast on.
But just as Bologue prepared to swing his knife to tear them apart, the Demons down to the last, a faint metallic sound arose.
At first, it was merely a slight scrape between two pieces of metal, but soon it seemed like thousands of Iron Swords scraping against each other, grinding under tremendous force, ringing with a tearing, metallic buzz that pierced the air.
A bright cold gleam flashed by, and the next moment the Demons surrounding Bologue fell, as if cleaved by an invisible blade, limbs collapsing from bodies, viscera spilling onto the ground, stinking blood mingling with shattered bones, spreading evenly across the floor like a fungal blanket.
Bologue froze in place, a breeze brushing over him, sending shivers down his spine, followed by footsteps echoing from the darkness.
The sound came from the dark corridor on the first floor, where cement walls had sealed all doors and windows, transforming it into a straight, narrow path.
An immense pressure emanated from the narrow passage, overwhelming everything.
Absolute stillness, not a sound, even breath halted momentarily.
Silent, unseen, shapeless, there was nothing, only a terrifying menace from the darkness, brandishing swords, spears, and halberds charging forth.
"These Demons are no longer suitable for evaluating you, killing them all is merely a matter of time."
A cold voice echoed from the darkness, rising in step with the voice, a glimmering cold light, revealing its form to Bologue.
Bologue couldn't discern if it was human, Demon, or some kind of monster unknown to him.
A helmet forged of black steel shaped into a wolf's head, emitted a ghostly blue light from its crevices, as if inhabited by some Spirit Body, standing upright like a human, but covered in black bristles that, as it moved, rubbed against each other producing the steel buzz Bologue had heard.
Those were not bristles but sharp blades overlapping, draping its body, morphing it into a wolf clad in blades.
"Find me, and you'll be free."
An indifferent gaze fixed upon Bologue, the voice rang out then silence ensued once more.
In the prolonged calm, neither side made a move, unease brew within, until a melody floated from the top floor.
"Night drapes over your shoulders, your name etched in darkness!"
The song triggered like a starting gun, the tense bowstring released.
Bologue swung the folding knife, carving a Silver light track, as the jarring buzz approached.