I Was a Loner, but My Class Got Summoned to Another World…

Having fought off all the demon generals, Roland could only think about going back to check on Stella. Before he did, however, he gave the battlefield one last look. Most of the demons were either dead or burning away.

The humans, on the other hand, had gained strength from the explosion. It was as if they had been healed in some way. Roland did not know what to do with so many survivors, but he understood they would need to be managed soon.

For now, he could do little more than ensure they were safe. At least they were faring better than the demons. Just like in the previous building, Roland realized there were thousands of humans here, likely meant to be used for producing more blood crystals and red mist.

He hated leaving them behind, but healing them had been all he could do for now. Later, he would need to assign someone to take charge of their care.

Unfurling his wings, Roland took to the skies and headed toward the third vent, where Stella, Lucien, and their team were still fighting. He knew they were struggling, but he wasn't prepared for the sight of another army just as large as the one he had barely managed to destroy.

[Elios, start charging your strongest skill. This time, though, we'll need to rely on daggers.]

Roland drew two daggers to replace the swords that had been destroyed. Each dagger had a pommel with a mana crystal embedded, making them suitable substitutes.

Elios began charging them as Roland prepared another Twilight Maelstrom likely the last one he would be able to summon for a while. He would need to restore at least half his mana before attempting it again.

That did not stop him. The more damage he caused to the demons, the more time he could buy.

Roland unleashed Twilight Maelstrom through the daggers in his hands as soon as Elios finished pumping them with light elemental energy.

The storm of light and darkness tore across the battlefield, annihilating the demons before him in sweeping waves. Hundreds fell at once, their bodies hurled aside or consumed by the spiraling force.

He steadied himself, bracing for another brutal clash like before, but almost immediately he noticed something strange.

Another bulk of demons surged forward to replace the fallen. Roland met them head-on, blades flashing as he carved a path through their ranks. Yet the resistance he expected never came.

These enemies fell far too easily, nothing like the disciplined horde Kazurel had once led.

Roland paused, panting as the mana began to break down his daggers as his swords did.

They could not take the mana from the skill used and began to turn into dust in his hands.

His eyes swept the battlefield. At last, he realized the truth.

The creatures swarming him were not high-tier demons at all.

Most were vampires, sluggish, uncoordinated, their attacks clumsy as though their will itself was being stripped away.

It was then that a familiar presence tickled one of his senses.

From above, a small bat swooped down, its aura unmistakable.

Norelli.

Roland could feel Norelli's faint pulse rippling through the battlefield. All around him, fledgling vampires turned on one another, some clawing at demons, others tearing into their own kin.

[So, you've finally made it,] Norelli's voice stirred in his mind. [I've already handled a portion of the demons here, but you must hurry. Do you remember that lunatic Azragor I warned you about? He's decided to pay this place a visit instead of fighting you directly. That means the ones you sent here are in real danger.]

Roland's breath caught in his chest.

He quickly thought about Stella, Lucien and the others who were tasked with helping them.

The thought of Azragor attacking them sent a chill to his spine. He had only just finished cutting through the last generals, and now another one appeared before he even had a chance to recover his mana

[You should not waste time,] Norelli pressed, his voice low and urgent. [Azragor won't fight with reason. He delights in toying with his prey, and if he's chosen this place, it means he did so with some other intention, you should clearly know why right?]

Roland clenched his daggers tighter, forcing his exhausted body to keep moving. His wings spread wide, beating against the acrid air as he launched himself toward the building.

From a distance he could already see the red mist pouring stronger than ever from its vents, the building form this side was going at full force meaning that Stella and her group had yet to even reach the building.

What Roland could make out from where he was flying though, was that shadows moved from one area to another, there were signs of a fight happening in the distance.

A violent clash between two parties, they were most likely his allies, locked in battle with a single figure whose presence radiated like a furnace of power.

Even without Norelli's warning, Roland would have known. This could only be Azragor.

[Hold on, Stella,] he muttered under his breath. [I'm coming.]

The closer Roland flew, the clearer the scene became.

The ground below was littered with broken swords and the bodies of demons and shattered blood crystals, their energy leaking into the air like trails of smoke.

Roland could only guess that the blood crystals here were the remains of vampires, the cores they left behind when hit by a strong light magic.

On the other side of the battlefield, spells detonated in bursts of light and fire, clashing against a barrier of crimson energy that pulsed with every strike.

At the center of it all stood a figure cloaked in writhing shadows. His movements were erratic yet precise, his laughter carrying even above the chaos from this particular battle.

Each swing of his jagged blade tore through the ground with ease sending dirt flying to protect himself.

This particular demon seemed to not only be able to wield darkness energy but also had a good handle of earth magic, and even the strongest of Stella's group struggled to withstand his assault.

[That is Azragor… I think he is one of the strongest, so don't think this fight will be like the last one with Kazurel, this one is the real deal…]

Norelli added from afar, the bad seemed to hesitate to get closer.

Roland's chest tightened. The demon general radiated a presence unlike any he had faced before, it wasn't unstable or unbalanced like the other demons, this one was strangely calm as if he had integrated his mana stones correctly and they were a part of him now.

Roland could even feel Elios recoil within him, and even Norelli's usual calm was strained.

[He's not trying to win,] Norelli said grimly. [He's trying to break them. To drive them into despair before you arrive.]

Roland grit his teeth. He could see Stella on the front lines, struggling to keep her shields intact. Each impact rattled her stance, her defenses faltering with every clash.

Lucien held tight to her flank, his glowing blade intercepting Azragor's unpredictable earth spikes, though some still tore through, forcing him back step by step. They were holding, but only barely.

Roland's eyes flicked beyond them.

Morrag roared as she hurled herself at the demon general, her crimson blade blazing with dark fire. Zavar and his half-bloods struck from the sides, desperate to turn the tide. But Azragor only laughed, easily twisting his body away and deflecting their blows.

"You dare face me, daughter of the Demon King Vrozakul, what would he say if he saw you know?" His voice thundered with contempt as he parried Morrag's strike, his clawed hand forcing her back. "Have you fallen so far that you crawl with humans now?"

His gaze shifted to Zavar, a cruel grin stretching across his face. "And you… a half-blood mongrel, thinking yourself worthy of my attention? You should be kneeling, not standing before me."

Azragor loomed above them, a figure steeped in darkness yet carrying a twisted sense of majesty. His skin was a deep midnight blue, and from his skull curved two massive horns like jagged blades. Crystalline spikes jutted from his shoulders, each one glowing with raw mana that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Embedded into each of his hands were two more crystals, burning like coals as they channeled his unstable power.

Unlike most demons, this one wore armor, black steel etched with runes, that clung to his form as though it had been forged for him alone.

Roland studied his new opponent only for a moment, but that was all he could spare.

His wings angled downward, readying for the strike. There was no more time to hesitate.

Roland landed hard between his allies and Azragor, his hand already reaching into his storage. With a grim expression, he drew the cursed black blade, its dark aura flaring hungrily at the presence of so much power.

"Fall back," he ordered, his voice cutting through the chaos. "This fight is mine."

Azragor's grin widened as the weapon's shadow clashed against the glow of his crystals.