I Become Master of Danger Zones as Incubus With Mastery In Genetic

Chapter 225: Crushing Slave Traders



"The capital is in chaos. Let's move!" the witches soon head towards their targets, the different outpost as well stops of the slave caravans, one they confirmed to have enslaved witches in them.

They have found 50 of these slave caravans all over the Duchy, not counting the one inside the cities, towns and minor settlements. However, for the witches assigned to these slave caravans, those are not their concern until they finished their part of the job.

Thankfully, aside from some of the Slave Caravans, the guards are not powerful enough to contend with the number of witches. The only reason they could hope to keep a witch in captive is through the use of special potions and drugs that weaken the witch, making her unable to use magic.

Unfortunately, even inhaling such drugs could inhabits their strength, and so, to prevent such thing, they all have mask on their mouth and noses, filtering the drugs to avoid accidental inhalation. New chapters at m v|le|mp|yr

They were forced to travel a bit further due to not wanting to be spotted by the slave caravans, with the only way to keep track of their movement is the usage of familial and the rats provided by their men.

At the thought, the leading witch could not help but shiver in excitement. While her opinions of men had been soured through years of captivity, the man, no, demon that took claim her as his own is different in the fact he treated them equally. No doubt, the others also felt the same way with him.

The thought of being in a compromising situation with the demon was pushed aside for now as she had better things to do, like freeing her fellow witches.

-x-

"Come on, we need to move," the leader of the slave caravan exclaimed. Another layer of protection of the slave caravan is secrecy, to avoid being attacked by witches midway. After all, there is no way for the Duchy to spend so much in the slave caravans by assigning powerful guards.

And so, the slave caravans used secrecy to ensure their safety. However, what they did not knows, the secrecy would be the reason for their destruction.

A huge fireball sailed through the air and hit a group of guard, surprising the leader as he watched some of his stronger men burned to death, their screams harrowing.

He did not need to look at the perpetrators to know who they are.

"Everyone! Grab a witch and use them as hostage!" knowing there is no time for panic, he ordered his men to turn their slaves into shield, protecting them from the witches attacking them.

However, to his horror, none of his men able to reach the slaves in time, as they all find themselves staring at freed and angry witches, their hands preparing to cast the most painful spell in their arsenal.

The slave traders and guards back away slowly, fear in their eyes went they feel themselves hitting a tree.

'Wait, tree?! But we are in the middle of a desert!' the leader thought in fright and turned around. To his horror a huge tree monster loomed over him, ready deliver a vengeful strike upon him and his men.

"Don't worry," one of the witches said, her expression of amusement and sadism.

"We will not kill you yet. After all, this is not the only place we attacked. We still need to help some of our brethren. And so, we are going to just cripple you here," with a single swipe of her staff, the legs of him and his men were broken.

The witch said something else, but he unable to hear it, the pain clouding his thought.

-x-

While most of attack on the caravans went smoothly, some did not.

"Everyone, retreat!" the leading witch of the assault of the caravan close to the border called out. Her group had not expected strong opponent but the expectation was subverted at the sight of a B-rank guards, forcing her to order a retreat.

The strongest person in his group is herself, being at the top of C-ranks, and she knew she could not hope to fight against such strong opponent, especially when his weapon seem to be created to go against spell caster.

"Come on little witches? You so brave attacking this caravan. And know you are running away?" the man said mockingly, twirling his sword as a maniacal smile formed on his face.

"While I can't have fun with the witches we caught, but if I capture you, I can have fun with you and the higher-ups will not complain," he said, his tone fill with depravity as he looked at one of the captured witches.

The leading witch let out a growl, though she knew her group will be taken down at this rate. A quarter of their own already defeated and captured, and she knew it is only matter of time before she suffered the same fate.

However, that is if she and her group was the only one in the area. And they not.

"Grrrgghh!"

"What is that so-" the B-rank guards could not finish his sentence before a claw pierced through his heart, killing the man immediately. The leading witches let out a breath she was holding, her decision to hold on her supports paying off.

For every groups that did not possess a B-rank witch, they will have a B-rank monster to assist them in case the caravan they facing possess such a powerful fighter, or the demon forbids, fighters.

Seeing the rest of the guards retreating in fear at the sight of the Demonic Lizardman Chief, the leading witch was no time to order a counterattack.

"Kill them all!" the Demonic Lizardman Chief growled as well, calling upon his brethren to descend like terrors of the dark, killing the guards with ease, the sole exception being the females.

The leading witch led her alive, as there is no doubt of what her fate is going to be. After all, she did agree to serve the demon of Lust, and such outcome is expected.

She ordered a proper cleanup, killing everyone in the area save for fellow witches and the female they find. After they were done with the cleanup, they went towards the closest checkpoint, as they knew they needed to help the others with their own mission.

-x-

An hour after the peak, all the slave caravans with enslave witches were destroyed, the slave traders either dead or wishing they were.


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