NTR: Stealing wives in Another World
Chapter 123: A brutal fight

Chapter 123: A brutal fight

The heavy footsteps grew louder. No sprinting. No shouts. Just the smug, deliberate march of monsters who thought they had nothing to fear.

Demons.

Allen tensed, stepping forward until his body shielded the wounded mermaids behind him. Luna had flattened her slime form into a protective dome over two of them, her gelatinous body humming faintly, glowing a soft blue. Fina crouched low beside another, tail rigid with rage, one claw gently brushing sea-slick hair out of the mermaid’s face.

They came in threes, like a bad joke with a horrifying punchline.

The first was massive, nearly seven feet tall with curling ram-like horns and a hammer as thick as a tree trunk strapped across his back. His red eyes glowed like furnace coals, and his grin showed too many teeth. He ducked under the tent flap and immediately sneered at the sight before him.

"Aww, what’s this? A rescue party?" he growled.

Behind him slithered a thinner demon with hooked knives strapped to his hips and a long, twitching tongue that flicked over his lips like a snake testing the air. His gait was oily, as if his joints weren’t made for this world. His eyes danced hungrily between Allen, Fina, and the girls.

Then the third entered. Silent. Armored from head to toe in blackened steel, helm sealed tight. Across his chestplate burned the sigil: a twisted, bifurcated flame.

The Demon Corps.

Allen’s hands balled into fists.

"You the one who’s been screwing with our operation?" the big one asked. "Thought you’d be taller."

Allen said nothing. He was already calculating.

The thin one chuckled. "Slaver-turned-hero. We heard about you. Beastkin lover. Pet collector. Real bleeding heart."

"You talk too much," Allen replied.

"And you’re about to stop talking altogether."

Fina cracked her knuckles. "Oh, we’re doing this?"

Allen looked at her sideways, smirking. "Do I even need to say it?"

Fina’s eyes glinted.

She pointed dramatically at the hammer demon’s crotch. "Testicular. Torsion. Time."

Allen blurred forward.

The brute tried to move, but Allen was faster—already crouching low, arm lashing out like a whip. His palm landed square against the demon’s crotch.

TWIST. SNAP. PULL.

"HRRRRYYAAAUUUGHKKK!!"

The demon’s knees buckled with an audible crack as Allen spun his hips into the motion, twisting the cords of agony tight like he was turning a dial marked "suffering" up to max.

The hammer demon collapsed face-first into the dirt with a long, gurgling wheeze.

The thin one screamed and lunged with both knives raised—only to get intercepted by Fina, who caught one wrist and wrenched it backward until it dislocated with a nasty pop.

"You like cutting tails, huh?" she hissed, raking her claws across his cheek.

He shrieked.

She kicked him straight between the legs. There was a muffled squelch. Something ruptured.

He dropped.

Allen had already turned toward the armored one.

The black-plated demon raised one hand, conjuring a flame-spear that screamed as it ignited in mid-air.

"You die now," he growled.

But Allen raised a hand too.

Luna responded instantly, launching from the ground like a slingshot.

The armored demon tried to block, but Luna exploded against his face, flattening and expanding into a semi-solid slime dome that smothered his helmet entirely. The fire spear fizzled, lost in his wild, choking thrashing.

Allen was on him a second later.

KNEEL. GRAB. TWIST.

The motion was perfect.

The execution was brutal.

Double rotation. Pressure spike. Full pelvic lock.

The demon let out a metallic howl from inside his helmet as his knees hit the dirt. His gauntlets flailed, trying to scrape the slime off his faceplate as Allen calmly let go and stepped back.

"I call that the Double Helix," Allen muttered.

The demon didn’t answer.

He was too busy twitching and vomiting inside his armor.

The tent fell silent. The smell of blood and burned magic hung thick in the air.

Fina spat on the nearest twitching body. "Three nuts down. Who’s next?"

Allen turned to the mermaids. The youngest one was still crying, her hands pressed to the raw stubs where her tails had been severed.

They would regenerate. But not the pain. Not the trauma.

He knelt beside her and wiped away a tear with his thumb. "You’re safe now. They won’t hurt you again."

The girl trembled, then slowly nodded. "T-Thank you..."

Behind them, Luna reformed into her usual shape and perched atop the broken armor of the third demon like a trophy.

Allen looked to Fina.

"We can’t let this stand," he said.

She nodded grimly. "If they’re doing this here, they’re doing it elsewhere."

He held up the Demon Corps tag he’d taken from an earlier raid. Now he had more.

More proof. More fuel for the fire.

"The message is clear," Allen said. "We’re done hiding. The Beastkin are done being hunted. The mermaids aren’t prey."

He stood, voice growing louder.

"We’re taking the fight to them."

Fina raised her claw. "And this time, we twist everything."

Allen stood tall over the twitching bodies, the torn metal, the stench of scorched skin and ruptured anatomy.

The mermaids watched him with wide, trembling eyes. Behind them, the tent’s canvas flapped gently in the breeze, a strange, almost peaceful rhythm at odds with the carnage.

Then—BOOM.

A second explosion rocked the earth outside.

Screams.

Real ones.

Not demons this time. Girls.

Allen’s face twisted.

He sprinted out the tent.

Fina followed in a blur, her claws already slick with blood. Luna reformed and oozed after them like a living wave.

The camp was chaos.

Three more tents burned, thick black smoke curling skyward. Beastkin girls and wounded mermaids fled in all directions—limping, dragging each other, shrieking.

And at the center of it all?

Another unit.

Four new demons.

These ones weren’t scouts. They were elite.

The frontliner wore armor plated with bones—femurs and jawbones lashed to his greaves, a necklace of tongues swinging with every step. His hammer glowed red-hot, steaming with infernal energy.

Beside him, a twin-headed demon with stitched-together torsos cracked two whips that sizzled when they struck air, leaving glowing scars in the dirt.

The third was a grotesque female, floating above the ground on batlike wings. Her skin was translucent, revealing twitching veins and a stomach full of writhing larval things.

The last—

A child.

Or it looked like one.

Short. Dressed in white. Face blank. But around it swirled chains tipped with barbed hooks, dancing like metal serpents.

Allen’s rage boiled over.

"You sent kids to fight us now?" he growled.

The child tilted its head.

"I’m older than your species," it said in a flat, echoing voice. "And you smell like rebellion."

Fina leaned in close. "Allen. I’ll take the flying bitch."

He nodded. "Don’t hold back."

Then he was gone. A blur of fury and vengeance.

Bonehammer raised his weapon and brought it down like a meteor.

BOOM.

Allen dodged left. The impact cracked the ground, spraying dirt like shrapnel. Bone fragments scattered.

Allen surged forward and punched the demon in the throat.

The response?

The demon laughed.

Thick, gurgling. Blood spilling from his mouth—but he didn’t stop.

He grabbed Allen by the waist mid-strike and slammed him into the ground.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

The dirt cratered.

Allen’s vision blurred. Bones screamed. But—

He grinned.

"You made a mistake."

The demon paused.

Allen’s hands moved.

Right between the demon’s legs.

But this time, he didn’t twist.

He punched.

Full force. Upward. A meaty crack echoed like a gunshot.

The demon screamed, faltered.

Allen flipped up and delivered a spinning heel kick to his temple.

The bone necklace shattered.

Then came the finisher:

Allen ducked low, slid behind the demon’s legs, and ripped both Achilles tendons with twin daggers drawn from his belt.

The demon toppled, screaming like an animal, only to be kicked in the face so hard his jaw dislocated.

Allen didn’t stop.

He stabbed down—one dagger into each testicle. Pinned them to the dirt.

"You want to be remembered?" Allen snarled. "Here’s your legend."

Then he exploded the demon’s skull with a stomp that sprayed brain matter across the burning tent.

Fina launched herself into the air, claws slicing through bat wings mid-flight.

The demon shrieked and vomited parasites.

Fina sliced through them midair, twirling in a spinning aerial kill-dance, her tail whipping larva into bloody mist.

The demon tried to scream again—but Fina was already above her, both feet slamming down on her shoulders.

They crashed into the ground.

Fina crouched atop her, shoved two claws into each eye socket, twisted, and ripped them clean out.

The hag howled.

Fina grinned. "You ever gut a banshee, bitch?"

She did.

At the same time Luna was fighting against the demonic child.

Chains lashed out like snakes, screeching.

Luna flowed low like a river, weaving through the assault. She surged up—wrapped herself around the child’s body.

Chains constricted, trying to tear through her. But Luna was slime. Ever shifting.

She grew hot—steaming.

Boiling.

The chains hissed.

The child screamed.

Luna forced herself into the child’s mouth, nose, ears.

From inside, she boiled him alive.

The body thrashed. Spasmed. Then fell still.

A puddle of flesh and chains, smoking in the dirt.

Allen stood in the middle of the field. Covered in blood.

Breathing hard.

Three more tags around his neck.

The camp was silent now, save for the quiet sobs of the rescued.

Allen turned to them all—mermaids, beastkin, even Fina and Luna.

"This isn’t a war anymore," he said, voice low.

"It’s reclamation."

Fina licked blood from her claw. "Let’s take the whole damn camp."