Chapter 232 Miller's True Form



"Do you think this will change something?" Miller said, laughing like a maniac.

Miller, unlike the other demons, still maintained a human appearance. It was because of the body he possessed upon returning to this realm. Damian was certain there were many secrets Miller still hid.

"Damian," Ingram said, a little concerned, "Are you sure you can help me fight this demon?"

Despite Damian's earlier display of power, Ingram had doubts about his ability to face Miller. Moreover, knowing that Emma had feelings for Damian, he wanted to ensure the young prodigy's safety.

However, Damian had prepared extensively for this specific battle, and Miller was an enemy he longed to confront. The last encounter with Miller had nearly cost Damian his life, and if it weren't for Shareva, the succubus, he would have perished.

Damian met Ingram's gaze with unwavering determination. "Yes, I can help!"

Sensing the unwavering confidence radiating from Damian's words and expression, Ingram nodded once again. It was now two against one, but both Damian and Ingram understood the immense power possessed by Miller. They couldn't underestimate him.

"I'll go first," Damian declared, lunging towards Miller with his sword in hand.

Damian excelled in close combat, making him the natural choice to take the lead. He swiftly sliced his own arm, activating a unique ability.

"Blood Armor!"

The blood enveloped Damian's body, transforming him into a fearsome figure resembling a monstrous creature. The sight surprised both Miller and Ingram.

"Blood Magic?" Miller mused, a frown forming on his face. "Few individuals still possess such knowledge, especially in this dungeon level."

"Less talk, more action!" Damian retorted, slashing his sword downwards.

Blood coated Damian's blade, amplifying its power. Miller swiftly crossed his arms, conjuring a wall of dark matter to shield himself.

The clash between the sword and the wall sent sparks flying and caused the cavern floor to tremble. A crack appeared on the wall, but it stubbornly refused to shatter.

It was just the first exchange, but Damian found himself at a disadvantage. Feelings of shame and anger surged within him, urging him to strike relentlessly. He unleashed a flurry of four rapid strikes, expending a considerable amount of his power.

Although the wall eventually broke, Damian's attacks lost their momentum, failing to land a solid hit on Miller.

At this critical moment, Ingram sprang into action. Wielding a wooden staff adorned with intricate green designs, he summoned a razor-sharp wind projectile that raced toward Miller.

"Oh no," Miller muttered.

The razor moved too swiftly for him to evade. It struck his shoulder, tearing through flesh and sinew, causing blood to gush forth like a raging waterfall. Ingram couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

"Well done, Damian. You created the opening we needed," Ingram praised.

While Ingram reveled in the success of his attack, Damian knew better than to underestimate Miller's resilience. In fact, the demon appeared furious—an ominous sign of the fierce battle yet to come.

Miller's missing shoulder left his arm dangling like bait on a fishing rod, an unsettling sight that would repulse most. However, Miller showed no signs of pain or anxiety. Instead, he laughed sadistically, taunting Damian with his words, "Enough of this child's play. Behold the power that makes me a formidable demon of the underworld!"

With a calculated anticipation of Miller's response, Damian lunged towards him, determined to end the demon's life before further horrors could be unleashed. Yet, his efforts were in vain. A formidable black barrier manifested around Miller, and upon impact, Damian was mercilessly propelled through the air, his arm throbbing with excruciating pain. The sheer force of his own attack threatened to shatter his arm.

Then, a scene of unimaginable revulsion unfurled before their eyes. Miller's nails morphed into sinister black claws, and without hesitation, he ruthlessly tore his own flesh asunder. Blood spewed forth, drenching the surroundings in a crimson cascade. The sight of Miller's raw, exposed muscles and sinew was nothing short of grotesque and unsettling.

In a moment of unholy metamorphosis, Miller's entire form underwent a terrifying transformation. Casting aside his feeble human façade, he emerged as a towering beast, a hybrid of centaur and nightmarish bull. His once-pale skin turned sickly gray, and bulging muscles exuded raw power. Instead of the graceful limbs of a horse, his lower extremities resembled those of a demonic abomination.

The metamorphosis complete, Miller stood before Damian as an embodiment of malevolence and dread. It was abundantly clear that facing this formidable adversary would demand every ounce of Damian's strength and resilience.

Miller's face underwent a complete transformation, taking on a diabolical, malevolent, and grotesque appearance. He now sported two horns, and his eyes had turned pitch black. One couldn't help but be drawn to his shark-like teeth and the sinister smile that instilled fear in anyone who beheld it.

Damian was overcome with fear. He could sense a palpable surge of power emanating from Miller, who was no longer a demon inhabiting a human body but a fully manifested demon in his true form. This was the real Miller, bearing a demonic name unknown to Damian and Ingram.

Not that it mattered. Damian had no interest in knowing his name; all he cared about was how to eliminate him.

"Damian, be careful," Ingram warned, taking a few steps back. He could also sense Miller's power increasing significantly, signaling the beginning of the true battle.

"What should we do?" Damian asked Ingram, who was older and more experienced.

"To be honest, I have no idea," Ingram replied, acknowledging his uncertainty.

At that moment, Damian realized it was the decisive moment to find out if the terrible acts he had committed, taking the lives of innocent people in pursuit of power, had been worth it.

Miller uttered strange words in a language Damian assumed to be of demonic origin. Then, a small portal opened on the ground. With his hand above the portal, Miller waited as a mighty spear floated out and landed in his grasp. It was long like a spear, but its blade was equally thick—a combination of sword and spear.