Dishonor From Nightmares

Chapter 32

Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting a silvery glow on the forest floor as a chilling wind rustled the leaves. Miles, battle-hardened and holding onto his bayonette, moved stealthily through the underbrush. His senses were heightened, every muscle taut with anticipation.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his gun, eyes scanning the shadows for any movement. The air grew heavy, and a distant growl echoed through the trees. Luciel's razor-sharp claws scraped against the ground.

"You can't hide forever, demon," Miles growled, voice cutting through the stillness. "Your reign ends tonight."

Luciel's lips curled into a wicked smile, revealing rows of serrated teeth. "Oh, the brave soldier speaks. Do you really think you can stand against me?"

Without warning, Luciel lunged, propelling himself forward with unnatural speed. Miles reacted quickly, sidestepping the attack and precisely swinging his bayonet sword. The blade bit into Luciel's arm, drawing a hiss of pain from her lips. Dark blood dripped onto the forest floor, sizzling as it hit the ground.

Luciel snarled, her eyes narrowing as he retreated a few steps. But even injured, his confidence remained unshaken. He licked his lips, tasting his blood, and his laughter echoed eerily through the woods. "You'll pay for that, bastard."

Miles braced himself, his stance unwavering. He watched as Luciel's wounds began to close, a disturbing display of his regenerative abilities. With a bellow, he charged again, claws slashing through the air. Miles deflected his strikes with skill and desperation, the clash of steel against talons ringing out like a macabre symphony.

Their dance of death continued, the forest witnessing their brutal struggle. Miles' heart pounded as he fought to keep up with the demon's relentless onslaught. Blood oozed from gashes on his arms and cheek, but his determination burned brighter than ever.

In desperation, Miles lunged forward, his blade finding its mark again. Luciel's shriek of agony pierced the night as the sword plunged into his side. He stumbled back, arm twitching in misery, and collapsed onto his knees. Dark energy crackled around his wounds, struggling to heal the grievous injury.

Miles advanced, his sword poised to deliver the final blow. Luciel's eyes, now a mix of pain and fury, locked onto his. "Piss off, you bastard. I'm gonna use your ribs as a xylophone."

Miles swung his sword with a primal roar, and Luciel's form dissipated into black mist, leaving only a faint echo of his laughter behind. Miles' sword struck the ground, his chest heaving with exertion and frustration.

The woods fell silent once more, the moonlight casting a haunting glow on the aftermath of the battle. Miles' furious growl reverberated through the forest, a testament to his frustration and determination. His breath came in ragged bursts, the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he scanned the shadowy expanse around him.

Luciel, concealed amidst the gnarled trees and dense undergrowth, clutched his wounded arm with anger and pain, contorting his face as blood dripped down his arm and onto the ground.

"Come on, you twisted bastard! You were dying to use my ribcage as a xylophone, right? So quit yapping and get your sorry ass over here, you pathetic sack of pansy brains!"

Lucifel clenched his teeth, the echoes of Miles' enraged voice scraping against his ears. He grumbled softly, his hand pressed against his stomach to contain the thick, black blood, coaxing it to stay close as it worked to mend the raw wounds. "There you are, you son of a bitch!" Miles' triumphant declaration pierced the air, followed by another resounding gunshot that shattered the serenity of the woods. Swiftly, Lucifel sidestepped, narrowly dodging the projectile that found its mark in a nearby tree. His snarl revealed the sparks of anger igniting within him as he grew increasingly infuriated.