A Crusade of Catastrophe [7-Sidequests sweet sidequests]

As Dread reached the edge of the clearing, he found himself rather disappointed. It was just another encampment, this one less fortified than the last. Sure, this one was larger with some beasts about, but the inhabitants mostly seemed humanoid, with little to no monsters to fight.

Enraged by the denial of a fitting fight, Dread decided he didn't care to act stealthily for these whelps. Why should he care if some pathetic cultists see him approach before he kills them all? So, he lumbered forth into the clearing, preparing himself for battle.

As he reached halfway from the edge of the clearing to the beginning of the camp, the inhabitants began to notice his presence. Some of the watchmen gave shouts backwards, and he watched many individuals running back to central tents and other such gathering areas.

There were few in the area who seemed to be of any concern to Dread whatsoever. There were some in cultish robes that he assumed to be spell users of some sort. Aside from that, there was one woman who was much larger than the rest, bulging muscles showing off her strength through gaps in scrap metal armor.

As he reached the edge of the camp, a few figures in the strange robes approached him and began to speak, "Greetings, what purpose does your visit serve, child of the sisters?" They seemed to have mistaken him for a creation of those foul dark goddesses.

This would not be tolerated. The sheer insult to compare the majesty of the form his Lord gave him with the effortless, pathetic hodgepodges that those lazy children made was inexcusable. Especially when his knowledge told him they weren't even the makers of their greatest forces.

He let out a guttural growl, "I am no child of those failures." The robed people looked to each other in confusion before turning back to Dread. It seemed they wished for a discussion, but that was not in the list of Dread's objectives.

He made a single maneuver, growing the bones of his fingers to elongate and sharpen them as he slashed through the figure who spoke. As they cut through his flesh, the others recoiled, seemingly caught off guard.

Dread retracted his claws as he spoke once more, "None shall insult my Lord by mistaking him for such miscreants" The robed figures turned to each other once again, clearly in a panic and none of them knowing what to do.

Unfortunately, it seems the slash was not fatal, as the clawed figure slowly crawled back to their feet away from him. They called out to the others, "What are you doing? He is a hostile, destroy him!" After a moment more of hesitation, the other robed individuals began a chant of sorts.

Other members of the camp from around began to charge, the big individual seemingly hanging back for now. He didn't know if he should take that as a lack of interest or something else. Regardless, he was confident it would change little in the end.

As the first groups of combatants reached him, Dread swung his left arm, catching a few and crushing their internals while sending them into a nearby structure. The ones who survived that were quickly cleaned up by a series of slashes and bites.

As Dread waited for the second group to approach, he quickly found himself being annoyed by the slow pacing of the fight. If this carried on, he would be stuck in another conflict of at least an hour of straight fighting. As much as he loved to fight, due to his previous mistake he didn't know how much time he could waste before he began to prepare for a hunting party after him.

He grew out the spikes upon his right arm, snapping them off with his left before hurling them out into a rain of shards that left many of the approaching enemies impaled. The few who avoided impalement were quickly cleaned up with a leap forward and some clobbering.

As the blood from the second wave dripped off of his body, Dread noticed at last the strong looking one approach. She turned to the robed cultists, "You lot done yet?" In response, they finished their chant and cast a black light towards Him.

The effect surrounded him, though he didn't notice much of a difference. It seemed the woman was made more confident by this, as she approached and began to monologue. "That was a high tier curse of weakness. Sorry that it isn't a fair fight, but I don't think you really deserve one, being that ugly." She had an overconfident smirk as she got into a fighting stance.

He looked at himself in confusion. If that was a weakening curse, it certainly wasn't a high tier one. Before he could point out how pitiful the spell was, he looked up to see her charging with determination. He smiled internally, at the very least he could have fun toying with her.

She reached him, starting off with a heavy blow he faked a reaction to. Her confidence seemed to grow as he glared at her, doing all he could to put on a show and get as much enjoyment out of this as possible.

From there, she approached him and started to attempt a series of blows in quick succession. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to slowly show his hand. After every hit, he made slightly less of a reaction, until her punch landed to an unmoving abdomen.

As she looked up at him in confusion, she went for another punch to his face. He caught it this time, having enough time playing around. It was strange, he had a specific line from a song he had never heard before come to mind as he stared down at her.

He let out a chuckle in his deep growling voice, "You can't stop him, he's the juggernaut!" She looked at him with less confidence now, attempting a punch with her other arm only for it to be caught as well. "You can't sto~p this mother fucker!"

With that, he was finished playing with his prey. He leveraged his grip on her arms, pulling them towards himself while slamming his head forward to smash their skulls together, his clearly winning in the battle of durability and thickness.

As the woman stumbled backwards, he kneed her in the gut before using her reflexive hunch as a chance to grab her by the neck, headbutting her once more. This at last left her unresponsive, and he simply dropped her to the ground like one would a stick in the woods.

As he looked at her defeated form on the ground, he felt slightly disappointed. He turned to the others in the camp, hoping that perhaps one of them could put up any form of fight.