Devouring Dragon Heir

With the battle over, the demon army was decimated, and with the first general killed, Klaus stood alone on the barren plains.

He looked like a beacon of hope for everyone who had watched him dominate the battle.

The air, which was once thick with the reek of war, was now silent. Suddenly, a new notification from the system sounded in his mind.

[Ding! Congratulations, Host, for absorbing a new concept, erosion. You have achieved 0.2% mastery over the concept of erosion.

Klaus felt a new understanding settle within him. It was a cold, alien feeling, the knowledge of how to break down matter and energy at its very core.

This was the essence of the Demon King Krazinok's power he had absorbed from his first general.

He smiled to himself when he remembered how he had killed Vilefang with his newly created skills.

He was growing stronger with every step, every victory. The feeling was amazing.

He then turned his focus back to the battlefield. The Death Legion, his army full of 20,000 death monsters, stood in perfect formation, waiting for his command.

He nodded towards the necrolord who was standing at the forefront of the army before walking back to the fort.

Behind him, his army bowed to him with reverence.

Klaus then turned his gaze towards the fort. The battle-worn soldiers and Commander Caesar, the army general of the Riverdale kingdom, were watching him from the walls.

He gave a slight nod, a signal to his army. The Death Legion moved in perfect synchronization and vanished as their forms melted into the black fog as if they had never been there.

The black fog also dissipated, leaving the battlefield empty and silent, except for the lingering scent of death and weird black and bluish blood patches from the demons who had died earlier.

Klaus then walked back to the fort, his boots making a soft sound on the hard ground. He entered the gates, and a pin-drop silence fell over the entire fort.

All the soldiers, the captains, and the general, Caesar, looked at him with a mix of awe, fear, and profound respect.

The man who had been a stranger a few hours ago had now saved them and also their kingdom from doom all alone.

Caesar, who was watching him from the top of the fort, descended the stairs and walked towards Klaus.

He then kneeled in front of him, his head bowed, his body trembling with emotion.

"My lord, thank you for saving us; we will never forget your greatness and mercy," he said, his voice filled with immense gratitude. The soldiers, seeing their general kneel, followed suit.

They all kneeled, their heads bowed, their hands on their swords, in a show of profound respect for the man who was now their savior.

Klaus, however, was unfazed. He simply looked at Caesar and the kneeling soldiers with a blank expression.

"You may stand," he said in a cold, even voice. "The battle is over. Demons won't be coming for a few hours now. We have won for now, so go and rest."

Caesar and the soldiers stood up, their faces filled with relief. Klaus then walked past them, not saying a word.

He had done what he was supposed to do. He had defeated the demon army, and now he had a new concept, 'erosion,' to try and formulate plans accordingly.

He then went to rest in the camp that had been set up specially for him even before he had been summoned. It was at the center of the army camp inside the footing of the fort for soldiers to recover and rest.

The tent was simple, made of canvas, and had a bed and a small table inside. Klaus sat on the bed, his eyes closed, and his mind went blank, drifting into sleep that he had avoided in recent days, keeping himself busy with powering up.

Meanwhile, in the demon camp, which was located a few miles away from the fort, three demon generals were now waiting for the first general to return.

Inside the demon camp there was only tense silence in the air.

The three generals, the second, the third, and the fourth, were sitting around a table; they were silent, and their eyes were filled with impatience.

The second general, a hulking demon with a massive axe, slammed his fist on the table.

"Where is he? "Why has he not returned?" he roared, his voice a guttural growl. "He should have returned with the head of that human commander by now!"

The fourth general, a thin, cunning demon with snake-like eyes, was calmer. "Calm down, Balduk," he said in a low, hissing voice.

"Perhaps he is toying with them, you know how he likes to play with weak things. The humans are weak; there is no chance that they would be able to resist him."

But the third general, who was covered in a black ribboned suit and looked like an assassin, was not convinced. His senses were telling him that something was wrong.

His name was Xylos, a demon with skin that was as black as night and eyes that glowed with a sinister red light.

He was the most secretive and dangerous among the four generals; he was also called ruler of the shadows in the demon realm.

Xylos had a bad feeling about the situation.

"Something is wrong," Xylos said in a low, chilling tone.

"There is no sound of battle, no roar of our army, no screams of the humans. There is only an unnatural silence."

Xylos's senses were spanned across a large radius, also covering the battlefield where the earlier battle had happened.

The other two generals looked at him, their expressions a mix of confusion and fear. "What do you mean?" the second general asked.

"The first general and the army, they have disappeared completely," Xylos explained, his voice still a whisper. "And no battle is going on. It is as if they were never there."

The second and fourth generals looked at each other; their faces were pale with fear.

They knew the third general was a master of his craft, and his senses were never wrong. A new fear, a new dread, started to settle in their hearts. A fear of the unknown.

Xylos then stood up, his form disappearing into the shadows. "I will go and see for myself," he said as his voice echoed from the shadows.

"I will find out what happened to our army and the first general."

Xylos moved with a blur under the dull night sky; his movements made no sound, and the air was still even as he blurred past the terrain.

Xylos then proceeded to infiltrate the human camp after entering the fort by jumping over the humongous wall of the fort.

His movements were swift, silent, and undetectable. He was a master of his craft, a ghost in the shadows.

He entered the human camp, which was now a place bustling with activity as the soldiers were celebrating their unexpected victory.

He moved through the camp like a shadow among shadows and listened. He overheard the soldiers talking about the battle, their voices filled with a new hope and a new fear.

He heard them talking about the Messenger, a man who had appeared from nowhere, a man who had summoned a dark, menacing army, and a man who had killed their demon general and his entire army alone.

The soldiers talked as if they were talking about an angel, and some even called him messenger of death.

His eyes went wide as he realized the seriousness of the situation. He knew about the legend of the messenger.

It was said that this messenger was a fallen god who will descend to feed on the powers of humanity's enemies and become stronger and stronger every moment he lives in the realm.

He had always doubted if the prophesied Messenger was real.

And here he was now, appearing at such an important time when the demon king was on the cusp of a breakthrough and needed more human sacrifices.

He did not doubt the humans because they talked about how the now dead king summoned the messenger from another world.

Xylos knew the significance of interdimensional summoning; it was usually done to summon gods and beings of great power.

A cold, sinister fear started to grip Xylos's heart, but it was quickly replaced by a profound, cold determination. He had to kill the messenger.

He then heard the soldiers speaking about how the messenger was not an ascended or even pseudo-ascended but still fought across levels.

To the soldiers it was a thing of wonder, but to Xylos this news was a silver lining in the dark clouds.

He had to stop this threat before it was too late. He had to kill him now, before he became too strong for them to handle.

He then proceeded to sneak into the core area of the camp, where the most important people of the army rested.

He was a master assassin and had sufficient experience in things like finding the right dwelling where the target rested.

So after finding Klaus's tent, he then entered inside silently.

Inside, his senses were on high alert, but he found no one there. The tent was empty, the bed was made, and there was no sign of a living being. He was confused.

The soldiers had told him that the messenger was in his tent, but he was not there.

He started searching for the furniture, shelves, and drawers, his eyes scanning every inch of the room. He was looking for any clue, any sign of the Messenger's presence. But he found nothing. The room was empty.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps outside the tent. He was an assassin, and he knew how to hide.

He leaped to hide behind the curtains and above the fragile window made of canvas, supporting his figure on the rigid frame of the tent; his form disappeared into the shadows of the tent's ceiling.

He waited for the messenger to enter, ready to strike at any moment.

"Interesting"

That was the last chuckle he heard behind him before losing consciousness.