The Demon King's Guide To Not Getting Defeated By A Paladin-Chapter 55 - 54: Rust Alley

Rust Alley lived up to its name.

By the time Quinn and Azra turned the final corner, the cobblestones had given way to cracked bricks and narrow, crooked streets. The air smelled of old iron and damp earth, with faint wisps of steam curling from sewer grates.

The tavern sat at the very end of the alley, a sagging wooden building with its windows shuttered tight and a crooked lantern swaying over the door. The faint glow spilling from the cracks hinted at life inside.

Quinn didn’t even bother knocking properly. He rapped his knuckles lazily against the door once and slipped inside, Azra close behind.

The warmth hit them immediately...a heavy, smoky heat that clung to their skin. The scent of roasted meat and strong ale curled in the air, mingling with the faint tang of spiced candles burning in the corners. Behind the bar, a woman stood polishing a glass.

She was full-figured and fair, her auburn hair piled in loose curls and a single gold chain glinting at her neck. Her eyes, dark and sharp, flicked up the moment they entered.

"Well," she said, setting the glass down, her voice a low drawl, "you’re not regulars."

Quinn sauntered to the counter, the mission flyer still clutched in his fingers. He leaned his elbows against the polished wood, tossing the paper toward her with a faint smirk.

"Looking for whoever put this out," he said.

She glanced down at the paper, then back at him, one brow arching. "That’d be me. You the help?"

"Depends," Quinn replied, flipping his coin lazily between his fingers. "You got something worth helping with?"

Azra slid in next to him, more stiff, his hands folded behind his back. "We heard there’s... something in the slums. Killing people. You can tell us what you know?"

Her gaze lingered on Quinn for just a second longer before she sighed, reaching under the bar. She pulled out a folded scrap of parchment and spread it across the counter.

It was a crude map of the slums, all tangled streets and crisscrossing alleys, and at the bottom corner, marked with a black circle, was a sewer entrance.

"People’ve been disappearing down here," she said, tapping the circle with a painted nail. "Some found dead after. Torn up bad. Some not found at all. Nobody knows what it is. Nobody wants to get close enough to find out. But the trail leads here. I’ll tell you this—" She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice just enough that Quinn felt the faint brush of her breath. "—whatever it is, it ain’t human. And it likes the dark."

The corner of Quinn’s mouth curled, though his eyes stayed flat. He straightened, rolling the map back up.

"You got yourself a deal," he said simply.

Azra gulped, adjusting his glasses. "This sewer entrance... how do we...?"

She pointed toward the back door of the tavern. "That alley out back’ll take you right to it. Rust grate, tucked behind a trash heap. Can’t miss it. Just... watch yourselves."

Quinn pushed off the counter, flipping his coin once before catching it and slipping it into his pocket.

"Always do," he said coolly.

As he walked toward the back door, he glanced over his shoulder, just for a second, catching the woman’s dark, knowing smirk as she leaned back against the bar. Azra trailed after him, muttering under his breath. "I really hate sewers..." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Quinn just pushed the door open, stepping into the cool night air, his boots crunching on the broken bricks of the alley. At the far end, he could already see it, the faint glint of a rusted grate, barely visible in the shadows.

It was waiting.

And somewhere below... something else waited too.

*

Azra stood stiff as a board in the back alley of the tavern, his fingers white around the strap of his satchel. The faint breeze carried the smell of grease and garbage from the corners of the slums, but his eyes were fixed on the grate ahead.....rusted iron, its bars bent just enough for a man to squeeze through.

Quinn crouched by it, his fingers running lightly along the cold metal. He gave it a testing tug, and it screeched in protest but came loose enough to shift aside.

"You’re actually enjoying this," Azra muttered, his voice a little shaky as he adjusted his glasses yet again.

Quinn just chuckled, low and dry, as he stood, wiping his palms on his jacket. "Course I am. Better than sitting at a table flipping coins, isn’t it?"

"That’s... debatable."

Quinn didn’t answer. He swung himself down through the opening, his boots clanging against the ladder’s rungs as he descended. The faint smell hit him halfway down, damp stone and something more pungent lurking underneath, like rotting wood and wet fur.

Azra swallowed hard before following. The metal was slick under his hands as he slid after Quinn, each hollow clunk of his shoes ringing louder than he’d like. They landed on a narrow stone walkway that flanked a sluggish, black river of sewage below. The tunnel stretched ahead, low and dark, the air thick and warm.

The smell was immediate. It filled Quinn’s lungs... sour, metallic, like wet mud and decay all mingled into one. He wrinkled his nose but didn’t so much as pause, stepping ahead, hands in his pockets, boots crunching on the slick stones.

Azra gagged quietly behind him. "Disgusting..."

Quinn smirked over his shoulder. "What, you didn’t bring your perfume?"

They moved slowly at first, the faint trickle of water below masking their footsteps. The walls gleamed faintly where moisture clung to the old stones, little rivulets running down into the black stream. Somewhere distant, a faint drip rang endlessly.

The tunnels forked and curved, each turn deeper and darker than the last. The air seemed to grow heavier with each step, and the faint light from above vanished completely after the third bend.

Quinn didn’t hesitated, he just kept walking, his ears tuned to the quiet. Azra stayed close behind, the sound of his breathing louder than anything else in the silence. The deeper they went, the more oppressive it became, as if the dark itself pressed closer, thick and tangible.

But then, Quinn stopped.

Azra nearly walked into his back. "Wh—what? Why’d you—?"

But Quinn didn’t answer right away. His head tilted slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing into the shadows ahead. Something... was here. Something watching.

It was faint, just at the edges of his senses, like the prickle of static on his skin. His fingers curled slightly at his sides.

"Stay close," he murmured.

Azra’s voice was a whisper now. "You feel that too...?"

Quinn didn’t reply...and then there was a blur.

It shot from the dark so fast it was nothing but a streak of pale limbs and gleaming eyes.

"Move!" Quinn barked, shoving Azra aside just in time as the thing hurtled past them. It landed in a crouch on the stones, its claws scraping a horrible screech into the floor before it straightened, its breathing heavy, guttural, animal.

Azra scrambled to his feet, his glasses askew, his voice cracking. "What the hell was that?"

Quinn didn’t answer, his eyes narrowing as the creature stepped closer. It was... almost human.

Its limbs were too long, its back hunched unnaturally. The skin was a slick, grayish-white, stretched tight over wiry muscle. Its head tilted unnervingly, and from the darkness of its face two eyes glowed..... a pale, eerie light that fixed on them like a predator. Suddenly, it smiled and the smile was all teeth.

Rows of them.

It let out a guttural growl, claws flexing against the stone as it crouched again, ready to spring.

Azra stumbled backwards. "Oh gods—"

The creature leapt but this time Quinn was ready.

"Foxfire," he hissed.

The air at his feet ignited in a swirl of golden-orange flames, and from the blaze rose a fox.... tall and sleek, its body nothing but roaring fire, its many tails lashing behind it.

The fox met the monster, slamming into it with a burst of heat and light. The creature let out a horrible shriek as it was thrown back, its claws scraping the walls before it landed hard on the stones.

The fiery fox stood between them, its form flickering and crackling, tails lashing as embers scattered across the stones.

The creature crouched where it had landed, growling low but this time, it didn’t attack. Its glowing eyes stayed locked on Quinn even as it slowly backed away... and then, with another guttural snarl, it slipped back into the darkness.

Gone.

The flames faded, the fox dissolving into wisps of smoke at Quinn’s feet. Azra’s voice broke the silence, tight and hoarse.

"...What the fuck was that?"

Quinn’s gaze stayed fixed on the shadows where the creature had disappeared. His voice was quiet, calm, but low with something harder now. "...It’s a monster."

And the word lingered in the air like smoke as the tunnel fell silent again.