ã€ŠDemonic Arsenal: Fall of the Heavenly Demon[LITRPG]ã€‹


 Prologue

    Ash blanketed the ruins, clinging to what little remained of the village. Homes lay shattered, reduced to skeletal frames. The air reeked of burnt wood, of death. In the center of it all sat a white-haired boy, crouched low. His hands gripped a snake. He tore into it, unflinching, blood smearing his pale face. Around him, silence.

    A girl with hair as white as his stepped closer, her figure barely visible through the smoke. Her footsteps were careful, hesitant, as though afraid to disturb the stillness. She stopped a few feet away and spoke, "Why don¡¯t you look sad? Your village... it¡¯s gone."

    He looked up. Slowly. His grin was sharp, his eyes bright with something that wasn¡¯t sorrow. "I survived," he said, "So I have to live on. I have a goal. And I¡¯ll pursue it with everything I have."Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The girl blinked, surprised. For a moment, the smoke swirled between them, carrying embers like dying stars. Then she spoke again. "Would you like to come with us?"

    He tilted his head, studying her. The grin didn¡¯t waver. "Will that help me realize my dream?"

    She extended her hand, fingers outstretched. "That¡¯s up to your capability."

    He stared at her hand, his grin deepened. "Interesting," he said, taking her hand.

    As she helped him stand, ash stirred around them. Behind them was the remnants of a destroyed village. But he didn''t look back. His red eyes gazed forward, to the unknown. To whatever came next.

 Chapter 1: A Call for Deathmatch

    Bookshelves lined the walls, their spines gleaming under the glow of a chandelier. The air reeked of fear. Arayn stood in the center of the noble¡¯s study, his hand wrapped tightly around the Baron Valtheran''s throat. He lifted him effortlessly, the noble''s polished boots dangling inches above the ornate rug.

    "Please! Spare me!" the noble choked out, his face red with exertion, sweat dripping down his temples. His eyes darted around the room, searching for salvation that would never come. "I can pay you! Gold¡ªland¡ªanything! Name your price!"

    Arayn¡¯s grip tightened, silencing the man¡¯s pleas with a strangled gasp. His gaze was cold.

    Bargaining. Pathetic. They always tried. His thoughts were clear, detached, cutting through the noble¡¯s desperation like a blade. "You are unworthy. The panic in your voice reeks of it," Arayn said.

    "Tell me," Arayn said. "What did you sacrifice for your power?"

    The noble¡¯s lips quivered, his facade crumbling into fear. "I¡ªI only wanted to secure my position! They¡ªthey were just peasants! Worthless lives!" His voice cracked as he confessed, "The magic¡ªdemonic magic¡ªit promised so much! Wealth, strength, control! Please, I didn¡¯t know¡ª"

    "Hahaha, spare me your excuses," Arayn interrupted. His grip shifted, and the noble gasped for air, clawing uselessly at the hand that held him. Peasants. Worthless. That¡¯s all they ever are to men like him.

    The noble¡¯s mouth opened, but no words came out. Arayn didn¡¯t wait. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the man across the room. The noble crashed into the desk, papers scattering like autumn leaves. Before he could even attempt to crawl away, Arayn closed the distance, his steps unhurried.

    A dark energy coiled around Arayn¡¯s hand, black tendrils writhing like living shadows. The noble¡¯s eyes widened in horror, his voice rising in a scream. "No! No, please! Mercy! I¡¯ll change! I swear it!"

    "Mercy?" Arayn murmured, his lips curling into a grim smile. "You¡¯ll find none here."

    The tendrils struck, piercing the noble¡¯s chest. His screams turned to choked gasps, his body convulsing as the demonic magic consumed him. When it was over, the room fell silent.

    Arayn lowered his hand, the dark energy dissipating. He glanced at the smoldering remains of the man who had ruled through greed and cruelty.

    "One less unworthy worm."

    A faint blue flickered in Arayn¡¯s peripheral vision. His eyes narrowed as the status window materialized before him, hovering in the air like an insidious whisper.

    [Level up]

    The words glowed in white. Arayn paused, his gaze lingering on the notification. It had become an almost mundane occurrence, these levels, these constant reminders of his growing power. Yet there was satisfaction in seeing it. Level 16.

    ---

    [Name: Arayn

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 16

    Stats:

    Strength: 22

    Dexterity: 16

    Constitution: 32

    Intelligence: 32

    Wisdom: 17

    Charisma: 27]

    ---

    [Abilities:

    Ancient Demon Language (B): A lost tongue of the demons, capable of reshaping and manipulating demonic power.

    Soul Rend (B): An attack that tears into the soul of the target, causing both physical and spiritual damage.

    Dark Pact (B): Sacrificing a portion of your own life force to temporarily gain enhanced power.

    Demonic Aura (C): A passive aura that radiates demonic energy, weakening nearby enemies and causing fear.

    Demonic Step (D): Leap short distances using demonic energy.]

    ---

    [Equipment:

    Demon¡¯s Grasp: A cursed glove that amplifies demonic power.

    Robe of Concealment: A dark robe that increases mana regeneration and conceals demonic energy.]You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ---

    After checking his status window, Arayn moved swiftly through the study, his eyes scanning every corner for anything tied to demonic artifacts or forbidden knowledge. His hands raced over the shelves, brushing past tomes and scrolls. Then, his fingers closed around an ancient book¡ªthe Infernal Codex. He tucked it into his coat.

    A sudden noise reached his ears¡ªthe harsh clamor of guards assembling, their boots pounding against the floors.

    Arayn dashed through the manor as he avoided guards and silently took out those in his path. His body shifted in the shadows as a guard passed just feet away. A quick strike, and the man crumpled. He used his agility to slide through narrow spaces and summoned bursts of demonic energy to disorient his foes, sending them sprawling as he moved past them without breaking his pace.

    But as he approached the manor¡¯s rear, he felt the shift in the air. The exits had been sealed off, the guards blocking any possible route out. No escape there. Without hesitation, he turned into the dark alleys of the city. He moved quickly through the maze-like streets. The city''s labyrinth was his only hope, but it was filled with its own dangers.

    A thrilling pursuit unfolded behind Arayn as the guards and patrols closed in. The sound of boots pounding against the cobblestone streets echoed in the night.

    Arayn¡¯s mind was clear. He dashed across rooftops, his footsteps barely making a sound as he leaped from one building to the next. Below, torchlight illuminated narrow alleys, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly, offering brief cover in the dark.

    The chase twisted through the heart of the town. Arayn moved swiftly, slipping into shadowed alleys where he seemed to vanish from sight, only to reappear moments later on another rooftop, always one step ahead of his pursuers.

    But the guards were fast, and in one tense moment, Arayn found himself cornered. His path was blocked by a high stone wall, the only way out blocked by the patrol closing in. For a heartbeat, they thought they had him.

    "Surrender, assassin!" One of the guards shouted.

    Then, Arayn unleashed his power. [Demonic Step] surged through him, a burst of dark energy that propelled him forward. In an instant, he vanished from the wall and reappeared several meters away, slipping through the cracks between two buildings, out of sight.

    The guards, stunned for a moment, scrambled to regroup, but it was too late. Arayn had already disappeared into the maze of alleyways.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the last of the patrols vanished from his sight. He stood at the edge of the city, the towering walls far behind him. The quiet of the outskirts was a welcome relief, and he took a deep breath. For now, he had escaped.

    Arayn stepped into the abandoned building. It had been his safe haven for days, far from prying eyes.

    He pulled out the Infernal Codex. With a careful hand, he opened it.

    As he flipped through the pages, the writing appeared to shift before his eyes, each symbol carrying an ominous aura. The language was foreign, ancient. The text hinted at unimaginable power, something capable of shaping demonic energy into a giant fang.

    "[Cursed Fang]! Not a bad ability. Furthermore, the cost of learning is also easy."

    Arayn was thrilled as he read the codex. His goal was to collect all demonic powers and artifacts in the world, and every new ability he learned brought him closer to that ambition. He savored each moment, enjoying the discovery of new powers with each turn of the page.

    After reading it, Arayn burned the codex, watching as the pages curled and blackened in the flames, the heat of it licking at his skin.

    He took a deep breath and chanted the mantra. "Vala''gor Drathul''shaak Kharz''othan." The room seemed to darken, the shadows stretching as if drawn to him, responding to the raw power in his voice.

    A red glow flickered beneath his feet, spreading outward, thickening like smoke. The ground trembled, and with a deafening crack, a massive red fang shot up from the floor. Its jagged edges gleamed with an unnatural light, casting an eerie reflection across the walls. Arayn¡¯s heart quickened, but his focus remained sharp. The ability was his.

    As the fang settled into the air before him, the system¡¯s voice broke through his thoughts.

    [You have learned Cursed Fang. Sacrifice 6 human souls within 6 days, or you will die.]

    He didn¡¯t flinch. His gaze remained fixed on the fang, a grin tugging at his lips. He had expected this. Demonic power always came at a cost. However, Arayn never backed down.

    Suddenly, the communication jewel in Arayn¡¯s pocket vibrated. He crushed it, the shards disintegrating in a swirl of crimson light. From the glow emerged a projection of a white-haired girl, her arms crossed and an angry pout on her face.

    ¡°Where are you?¡± she demanded.

    Arayn smirked, leaning casually against the wall. ¡°Hunting nobles, of course,¡± he said.

    The girl¡ªAlice Azael¡ªsighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. ¡°I knew you¡¯d start doing that as soon as you graduated from the Pit. But I didn¡¯t expect you to dive in immediately.¡±

    ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I?¡± Arayn replied, his tone mocking. ¡°So many unworthy worms need culling. Waiting would be a waste of time. But enough of that¡ªwhy are you calling me, big sister?¡±

    Alice¡¯s exasperation softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. ¡°Father¡¯s looking for you,¡± she said.

    Arayn¡¯s smirk faltered, his crimson eyes narrowing. ¡°I have no reason to listen to his orders. I¡¯ve already fulfilled this month¡¯s soul quota.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Alice said, waving a hand dismissively. ¡°You sent in your quota earlier than anyone your age. Truly a diligent boy. But unfortunately, this isn¡¯t a request. It¡¯s an order. You¡¯re to participate in the deathmatch ritual to select the next Blood Executors.¡±

    A flicker of interest lit Arayn¡¯s gaze. ¡°Oh? A deathmatch, you say? They don¡¯t usually hold these rituals as deathmatches. That means those old relics must have prepared a worthy prize.¡±

    Alice¡¯s grin mirrored his, sly and knowing. ¡°Sharp as ever, little brother. The winner will be rewarded with a primordial crystal imbued with the Heavenly Demon class.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Heavenly Demon? A demon capable of wielding holy power. Quite the contradiction.¡±

    ¡°Not only that,¡± Alice added, ¡°but the winner will also be declared the rightful successor of Crimson Sun. Listen, brother. Even if we aren¡¯t related by blood, I¡¯d rather see you as the successor. I don¡¯t want Crimson Sun falling into unworthy hands.¡±

    Arayn laughed, a sound both chilling and genuine. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll do as you ask, sister. But only in one condition.¡±

    The projection flickered as Alice tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her eyes.

 Chapter 2: Sacrifice

    Arayn moved through Duskwatch¡¯s waking streets. The first rays of the morning sun stretched lazily over rooftops, chasing away the night. Shadows still clung to the narrow alleys, reluctant to yield. The knights patrolled with tired eyes and drooping torches, their dogs straining at leashes, barking in restless bursts.

    He stopped abruptly. A guard loomed ahead, standing idle near a weathered wooden post. Morning light softened his features, but the danger he posed was unyielding. Arayn¡¯s hand tightened around [Cursed Fang]. The red fang felt alive, pulsing faintly, eager for destruction. He stepped forward, ready to satisfy its desire.

    A single stroke. The guard fell. No sound escaped him, just the dull thud of his body meeting the ground. The fang glowed, satisfied.

    [Five sacrifices required. Deadline: Five days.]

    Arayn¡¯s jaw clenched. He dismissed the window with a flick of his fingers and slipped into a narrow alley. The air here was cooler. Voices drifted toward him¡ªcommands barked, footsteps quickening, hounds snarling as they caught a faint scent. The hunt continued.

    But Arayn was patient. He pressed his back against the rough stone wall, letting his thoughts settle. The city¡¯s streets were a labyrinth, and he knew how to navigate them. He wasn¡¯t their prey; they were his.

    He waited, letting the sunlight inch closer, listening to the chaos swell in the distance. When the time was right, he would move. His smirk returned. The knights wouldn¡¯t catch him today. They¡¯d lose themselves in their own pursuit, and by the time they realized it, he¡¯d already be gone.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze flicked upward, drawn by the sight of a crow perched above the alley. Its feathers were a matte black, nearly lost against the shadows, but its eyes¡ªthose eyes¡ªshone with an eerie gleam. Within them, a faint pentagram flickered.

    He extended a hand, whispering words taught to him by the Crimson Sun Cult. The incantation slipped from his tongue. The crow cocked its head, as if acknowledging the command.

    It cawed once before taking flight. A streak of black against the dawning sky, the crow disappeared into the distance. Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. Soon, others would come.

    Turning away, he made his way back to the abandoned house. The moment his boots crossed the threshold, he felt it¡ªthe subtle shift in the air. There, on the floor, a swarm of rats had gathered, their formation twisted into a perfect pentagram. They remained still, their red eyes gleaming in unison, waiting for his next move.

    These creatures were his father¡¯s familiars. The old man scattered them across the Azrathar Continent. Spying tools. Messengers. Their means of disappearing, of appearing without warning. The Crimson Sun Cult relied on these familiars, and so too would he.

    He stepped into the pentagram. The rats began to twitch, their eyes lighting up with a strange glow, as if responding to an unseen command.

    In the next moment, the world around him seemed to shudder. His body dissolved, the sensation like being pulled apart and woven back together from the very fabric of shadow. It was a familiar, dizzying feeling. The teleportation had begun.

    He embraced the darkness.

    Arayn materialized in the Veil Chamber of the Infernal Bastion. The room lay in darkness, with only the faint glow of obsidian portals breaking the blackness. They pulsed slowly, casting long, shifting shadows that crawled across the walls. The cold marble floor, etched with ancient runes, seemed alive, twisting when he didn¡¯t look directly at them.

    High vaulted ceilings disappeared into the black void, swallowed by shadows. Columns rose like sentinels, stretching upward until they vanished into the gloom.

    Alice stood in the far corner, arms crossed tightly, her stance radiating irritation. Her sharp gaze locked onto Arayn''s.

    "You¡¯re late," she snapped. "The council¡¯s patience is running thin."

    Arayn walked past her without taking a single glance at her. "They¡¯ll wait longer."

    Alice said, "You plan to make them wait any longer?"

    Arayn ignored her, his attention focused elsewhere. He shifted the conversation. "What about the things you promised?"

    Alice huffed, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "Once you¡¯ve done with them, go to the Hall of Whispers," she instructed.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "If you keep complaining, I¡¯ll make this take even longer."

    Alice¡¯s face twisted in frustration, and she pouted. "Hmph! Even though I¡¯m your big sister, you never respect me," she grumbled. Despite her words, she clapped her hands, and robed figures emerged, pulling a dozen chained prisoners, their fearful eyes wide as they were ushered into the room.

    Arayn, with an amused smirk, patted Alice¡¯s head. "You¡¯re wrong. I like that you¡¯re always prepared."

    Alice shoved his hand away from her head, her eyes flashing with annoyance. "So, what are you going to do with them?" she demanded.

    Arayn didn¡¯t flinch. He looked at her, his voice cool. "I¡¯m going to take their lives. The cost of learning a new demonic ability." The prisoners trembled at his words. Arayn ignored them, his focus still on Alice. "What are their backgrounds?"

    Alice raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Do you even care?"

    He chuckled. "Not really." Arayn stepped in front of the prisoners, a cold smile curling on his lips. "But you should be grateful. Your lives will serve a purpose for me."

    One of the prisoners, a broad-shouldered man, spoke with defiance. "You¡¯re joking, right? I¡¯m getting out of here. I¡¯m going to live."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes scanned them, noting the desperate flicker of hope in their gazes. He smirked. "Oh? So you still think you have a chance at life? Fine. I¡¯ll give you a shot. If all of you can defeat me, I¡¯ll let you go."

    A bald man, voice shaking, asked, "Is that true?"

    Arayn snapped, his patience gone. "You fool. Don¡¯t make me repeat myself."

    Alice stepped forward, raising her voice in protest. "That¡¯s reckless. Sure, they¡¯re prisoners, and we¡¯ve crippled their circuits, but they¡¯ve been powerful before. They know how to fight."

    Arayn gestured to the robed members. "Unlock their chains."

    Alice¡¯s frustration spiked. "Do you even hear me? They might be crippled, but their power¡¯s still around your level. They could still give you a fight."

    Arayn flicked her head lightly, silencing her. "Quiet." The chains clattered to the floor as the prisoners were freed, and they laughed at him. One of them, an older man with a glint of defiance, spoke. "You can¡¯t take back your words, young man."

    Arayn smiled. "Of course not. And I know you can only use your physical strength now. So, I¡¯ll limit myself to just one ability. This is my promise, as the owner of the Crimson Cult Sun."

    Alice shot back, quick as a whip, "You¡¯re not the owner yet."

    A prisoner lunged at Arayn, swinging with all his might. Without hesitation, Arayn shoved Alice aside. His hand met the prisoner¡¯s strike, deflecting it with ease. The force of the blow pushed him back, but he held his ground. Arayn countered, trading blows with the prisoner, but he quickly realized something¡ªeach of his attacks was blocked.

    As more prisoners surged toward him, he took a step back, assessing the situation. He needed to end this quickly. Without warning, Arayn leaped back. A dark pulse of energy shot from his palm, and [Cursed Fang] whistled through the air, striking the man he¡¯d been fighting head-on. The prisoner crumpled to the floor in a heap, lifeless.

    The remaining prisoners hesitated for a moment, but only for a moment. Arayn didn¡¯t give them the luxury of a second''s breath. He conjured three more [Cursed Fangs]. He hurled them at the prisoners charging him. The moment the fangs struck, they exploded in bursts of dark energy, reducing seven of the attackers to nothing but scattered ash and charred remnants.

    Only four remained.

    Arayn summoned two fangs, one in each hand, wielding them like twin blades. The remaining prisoners faltered, but the sight of the fangs only drove them further into the fray. They thought they could match him. At first, they did. But Arayn''s weapons made all the difference. One by one, he took them down.

    Two prisoners left.

    Arayn threw one of the fangs, and it struck the second to last prisoner square in the chest. The man stumbled back, falling to the ground without a sound. Only one remained. A muscular behemoth, his size double Arayn¡¯s own. The tall man raised his hand to block Arayn''s final fang.

    The fang hit his hand, but the man was strong¡ªfar stronger than Arayn had anticipated. He tried to shove the fang aside, but the moment he did, the fang exploded. The force of the blast tore through his arm, sending blood spraying in the air. The man let out a roar of pain, but he still stood, gritting his teeth against the agony.

    He was alive, but just barely.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the last prisoner. ¡°You¡¯ve shown great endurance,¡± he said, ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Grakk,¡± the man rasped, his grin wide despite the state he was in.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed. "The cult has tortured you countless times. So why do you still have the will to live?"

    Grakk¡¯s grin stretched further, showing teeth stained with his own blood. ¡°I love to kill,¡± he said, ¡°The heat of their blood... when it runs through my hands.¡±

    Alice interjected. ¡°He¡¯s killed many acolytes. That''s why the cult has him locked away.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s gaze never left Grakk. ¡°Do you think you can defeat me?¡±

    Grakk met his eyes, unflinching. ¡°No.¡±

    A brief silence, then Grakk added, "But I¡¯ll try. I¡¯ll do my best to bleed you... to feel the warmth of your blood."

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°Then come.¡±

    Grakk lunged, a beast unleashed, but Arayn was prepared. Calm. His fingers flicked through the air, summoning the [Cursed Fang]. Dark energy twisted around it, thrumming with power. As Grakk¡¯s charge brought him within reach, Arayn didn¡¯t hesitate. With one swift motion, the fang pierced Grakk¡¯s skull.

    The prisoner¡¯s eyes widened, but there was no pain. No victory. Only the cold, dark silence of death. His body crumpled, lifeless, before he could ever taste the blood he so craved.

    [You have reached the limit of the requirement: 12/6 sacrifices.

    You may choose one of the following effects for the ability "Cursed Fang":

    Venomous Lash: Infuses "Cursed Fang" with a potent poison, causing the target to suffer continuous damage over time.

    Cursed Wound: Inflicts a lingering curse on the target, weakening their abilities and reducing their resistance to future attacks.

    Mana Reduction: Reduces the mana cost of "Cursed Fang" by 50%.

    Searing Curse: Adds a burning effect to "Cursed Fang," causing additional fire damage to the target after the strike.]

 Chapter 3: Deathmatch Participants

    Arayn¡¯s finger hovered over the glowing options before he clicked on [Mana Reduction]. His reasoning was clear. [Cursed Fang] was already devastating¡ªan ability that exploded upon impact didn¡¯t need poison or curses to enhance its lethality. What he needed was efficiency, the power to conjure more fangs without the constraint of his mana reserves.

    As the selection locked in, a surge of energy rippled through his body. The system notification flashed before his eyes.

    [Ability Upgraded: "Cursed Fang" has ascended from Rank D to Rank C. Mana cost permanently reduced.]

    He flexed his fingers, conjuring a single fang into existence. Its edge appeared sharper, its surface darker, pulsing faintly with condensed power. A smirk crossed his lips.

    "More fangs, more devastation," he murmured.

    Alice turned to him. "Are you done?"

    Arayn¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile. "Not bad," he said. His ability had been upgraded. Success.

    Alice watched him for a moment, then shook her head. "You really would do anything to enhance your demonic power, wouldn''t you?"

    Arayn met her gaze. "It¡¯s only natural. I plan to be the paragon of demonic power. To do that, I must be the most worthy user."

    She chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Yes, yes, we get it. Now, let¡¯s go. Father is waiting."

    Arayn followed Alice through the twisting halls of the Bastion. The scent of incense filled the air, and the soft murmur of voices echoed around them. Cult members in dark robes stood in their paths, offering silent nods of respect.

    They reached the Hall of Whisper. The heavy doors creaked as they opened, revealing Malrik Azael sitting at the head of a giant Infernal Council. He was guarded by his personal aides, all waiting for something.

    Arayn scanned the room, briefly meeting the eyes of the five candidates. One of them caught his attention¡ªa survivor from the Pit, the cult''s most brutal training ground. The person¡¯s gaze was sharp, a look of someone who had been through the worst.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze lingered on the candidate he recognized. It was Saria. A smirk spread across her face as she locked eyes with him. "Well, well, the great Arayn finally shows up," she mocked, her tone dripping with contempt. "I always thought someone with your bloodline might at least be on time. But I suppose you''re not worthy of it."

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a cold smile. "Worthy?" he echoed. "Listen, Worm. I am everything your bloodline could never dream of being."

    Saria sneered, her eyes narrowing with contempt. "You really think you''re better than me, don''t you? Just because you¡¯ve got some fancy bloodline?"

    Arayn¡¯s gaze never wavered. "Bloodline? For me, that''s worth a fly buzzing around scrap." He stepped closer. "Unlike you, I don¡¯t hide behind talent and bloodline. I forge my own path."

    Saria¡¯s lips curled into a vicious smile. "Forge your own path? You¡¯re nothing but a fool who¡¯s too arrogant to see his own limitations."

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained unchanged, a flicker of amusement barely visible. "And you¡¯re a fool who thinks insults can make her stronger. How pathetic." His words stung like ice, each syllable meant to cut her down.

    Her fists clenched at her sides, fury burning in her eyes. "I¡¯ll show you what real strength from bloodline looks like."

    Saria¡¯s hand moved for the wand at her side, her anger boiling over.

    Arayn didn¡¯t flinch. "Try me, Worm."

    But just as she made her move, a sudden pressure filled the room. The air grew heavy, as if the very atmosphere had been crushed under its weight. Saria froze, her body locked in place, unable to move.

    "Confrontation is forbidden. Do I need to punish you, the Daughter of Kaelthara?" Malrik said, his gaze a silent command that crushed the confrontation in an instant.

    Arayn leaned back slightly as he delivered one last taunt. "How pathetic. Perhaps your training wasn''t as thorough as I thought."

    Saria''s glare burned through him, humiliation etched on her face as she struggled against the invisible force holding her in place. Her pride shattered.

    Malrik¡¯s voice suddenly cut through the room. "Arayn," he said, "don¡¯t engage with the other candidates here."Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Arayn¡¯s sharp eyes flicked toward him. With a slight nod, he replied, "Fine. But I want the full details of the deathmatch."

    Malrik leaned forward. "It¡¯s a battle to the death. The winner claims the Primordial Crystal, which holds the Heavenly Demon class. They will become the next Scion of the Crimson Sun. And..." He shifted his gaze briefly to Alice. "They will also become Alice Azael¡¯s fianc¨¦."

    Alice¡¯s eyes widened, her voice rising. "Father," she said, her tone demanding, "what is the meaning of this?"

    Malrik didn¡¯t acknowledge her directly. Instead, he turned to the candidates in the room. "If any of you have questions, ask them now."

    A candidate, Lyssa, raised her hand. "If a woman wins, will she become Her Highness Alice¡¯s fianc¨¦ as well?"

    Malrik¡¯s response was curt. "It doesn¡¯t matter."

    Lyssa stole a glance at Alice, her face reddening. Arayn noticed. Amusing. She couldn¡¯t hide her thoughts so easily.

    Valen Valehn, another candidate, spoke up. "What are the rules, Your Majesty?"

    "The ritual will take place in Duskwatch Town next week. Before then, each of you must summon a demon from the netherworld, defeat it, and extract its catalyst. Fail, and you¡¯ll face execution. Your families will take the demon''s place as catalysts."

    The candidates stiffened after hearing that. But Malrik didn''t care and continued. "Once the ritual begins, you¡¯ll need to meet and gather the catalysts to activate the Primordial Crystal. One day later, you may kill each other. Only one will remain. The ritual won''t be over before one candidate remains."

    Arayn raised his hand. "Hey," he asked, his voice cutting through the tension, "if I fail to defeat the demon, does that mean you¡¯ll be killed?"

    The room shifted. Malrik¡¯s aides shot him sharp glares, and one of them snapped, "How dare you even think such a thing? You¡¯ll be punished for that!"

    Before things could escalate, Malrik raised his hand, halting his aides. His eyes, cold as ever, focused on Arayn. "For someone without family," he began, his voice clear, "you¡¯ll be crippled and thrown into the Pit, where you will rot forever."

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a grin, his tone almost mocking. "Someone without family, huh? Heh." The irony amused him, even as the others stiffened at his audacity.

    Malrik talked about some things before concluding the meeting. After that, Arayn and Alice left the Hall of Whispers in silence.

    Ahead, the Abyssal Spire rose into view. It dominated the heart of Bastion, a massive tower carved from dark stone. Shadows clung to its jagged surface, giving it an aura of power. High-ranking members lived here. For Alice, this place was home, a privilege earned through her status. For Arayn, it was foreign. He had spent his years in the Shadow Dormitories, far from the halls of the Spire.

    The closer they drew, the more imposing it became. Arayn glanced up, his expression unreadable. He didn¡¯t linger.

    Inside, the silence deepened. The cold stone walls seemed to absorb every sound, leaving only the faint noise of their movements. Alice walked ahead, her shoulders tense, her pace brisk. She looked around often, as if searching for unseen eyes.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± she said.

    She led him through corridors, past doors and halls. Finally, she stopped. Her eyes darted to the shadows. ¡°To my room. Quickly. And say nothing.¡±

    Arayn hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He didn¡¯t ask why. Alice¡¯s unease was clear, and for once, he allowed himself to wonder. What had unsettled her so deeply?

    Alice shut the door behind them. She turned the lock with a soft click, then stepped back, her gaze sweeping the room as if to confirm no one else was present.

    ¡°They could be watching,¡± she said. ¡°The backers of the candidates¡­ they have their ways. I had to be sure we were alone.¡±

    She folded her arms, her unease evident in the slight tension in her posture. ¡°This tower isn¡¯t as secure as it seems. Too many eyes, too many ears.¡±

    Arayn leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable as he watched her. ¡°And what makes you think they¡¯re interested in us?¡±

    Alice met his gaze. ¡°If you are going to survive this, you can¡¯t afford to let your guard down¡ªnot even here.¡±

    She moved closer, her voice softening. ¡°I¡¯m trusting you with this, Arayn. Don¡¯t make me regret it.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you¡¯re supporting me?¡± Arayn asked.

    Alice crossed her arms. ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you? I¡¯d rather see you become the successor than let some random people take the position.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a faint smirk. ¡°That means I¡¯d have to become your fianc¨¦, though,¡± he teased, his tone light but probing.

    ¡°You can break the engagement once you become the successor,¡± Alice replied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to,¡± Arayn said flatly.

    Alice blinked, caught off guard. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand, fool,¡± he added quickly, his expression twisting into mock disgust. ¡°The very thought of being engaged to you, even for a second, is revolting.¡±

    Her eyes narrowed. ¡°Then what¡¯s your brilliant idea?¡±

    Arayn leaned closer, his voice dipping low. ¡°A better plan¡ªone that doesn¡¯t involve humiliating myself with a sham engagement. Are you interested?¡±

    Alice tilted her head, curiosity flashing in her gaze despite her irritation. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    "You¡¯ll become the successor of the Crimson Sun."

    Alice stared at him, disbelief written across her face. "What?" she blurted out. "That¡¯s impossible. Only members of the cult who inherit the chosen class can become the successor. And last I checked, I¡¯m not one of them."

    Arayn smirked, unbothered by her doubts. "Impossible? For you, maybe. For me? Nothing is out of reach. If you want that title, I¡¯ll make it happen."

    Alice crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "And why would you go out of your way to do that? What¡¯s in it for you?"

    "Simple. If I help you, you help me. I don¡¯t do favors for free, Alice."

    She frowned. "Help you how? You know I can¡¯t officially support you. I have to remain neutral in the cult¡¯s politics."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened, a glint of amusement playing in his eyes. "Neutral or not, you still have your backer. Introduce me to them."

    Alice hesitated, her fingers tapping lightly against her arm. "My backer doesn¡¯t like you," she said finally.

    "That¡¯s because they don¡¯t know me," Arayn shot back smoothly. "Let me talk to them. Once they hear me out, they¡¯ll see my charm."

    Alice raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You¡¯re insufferably narcissistic, you know that?"

    "Confidence," Arayn corrected with a grin. "Now, do we have a deal?"

    With a reluctant sigh, Alice relented. "Fine. I¡¯ll arrange a meeting. But don¡¯t blame me if they still hate you afterward."

    Arayn straightened, his expression smug. "They won¡¯t. Trust me."

 Chapter 4: Fighting a Demon

    That night, the atmosphere was tense as Arayn and Alice entered an elder''s room. In the center stood a figure draped in dark robes, crimson and black. His name was Darius Vex, an Infernal Council member of high standing, second only to the High Sovereign in the cult. His silver hair framed a face that showed age, but his sharp amber eyes seemed to watch everything around him carefully.

    Arayn stood confidently before him. Alice, standing beside him, felt the weight of the moment but remained composed.

    Darius studied Arayn closely, clearly not impressed by his boldness. "You have quite a nerve, young man, standing before me like this," he remarked. "What is it you want?"

    "I want to make Alice the successor of the Crimson Sun," Arayn replied, "It¡¯s the best move for the future of the cult."

    Darius raised an eyebrow. "Why Alice? Why not you?"

    "Because I owe her," Arayn said without hesitation. "She helped me when I was at my lowest. Now, it''s time to raise her to the highest position in the cult."

    Alice was caught off guard by his words. She hadn¡¯t expected him to say something like that, and for a brief moment, she felt something warm in her chest.

    Darius studied them both, clearly weighing his options. "And how do you plan to make this happen?"

    Arayn grinned slightly as he explained his plan.

    After listening, Darius chuckled. "You¡¯re more capable than I thought. I have misjudged you, Arayn Azael."

    "I¡¯m glad I exceeded your expectations," Arayn replied. "Now, I will give you the chance to join my cause."

    Darius leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "Liking you and supporting you are two different things. A plan means nothing if the one behind it can¡¯t follow through."

    Arayn¡¯s smile remained. "And how would I prove my worth?"

    Darius¡¯s smile widened. "Defeat the demon I summon. If you succeed, I will back you. If you fail, then my support is out of the question."

    "Agreed," Arayn said confidently, knowing this was just another obstacle in his way.

    Darius gave a slight nod, clearly pleased with Arayn''s resolve. "Let¡¯s see if your actions match your words, Arayn."

    ---

    Arayn led the descent into the Ritual Crypts, his footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone stairs. The air grew heavier with every step, suffused with an oppressive weight that seemed to sink into their very bones.

    The walls bore infernal runes, their red light casting distorted shapes across the uneven stone. The patterns etched into the surface seemed to pulse, as though charged with a dark energy. Deep scratches marred the stone, remnants of long-forgotten rituals.

    Alice followed closely behind. Her hand hovered near her weapon, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows that seemed too still. "I hope no spy is following us."

    Darius brought up the rear, holding a lantern that barely pushed back the darkness. The weak glow illuminated the carvings on the walls, but the deeper recesses of the crypt swallowed the light. "Rest assured, my lady. With this old man here, no one will dare to do it."

    Arayn paused, his gaze sweeping the corridor ahead. "I say let them follow us. It''s natural for moths to be attracted to light," he replied.

    As they pressed deeper, every sound was magnified, each step resounding like a distant drumbeat. Somewhere ahead, a noise rumbled low and constant, its origin obscured. Whether it came from a creature or the crypt itself, none of them could tell.

    A group of cultists appeared from the shadows, their dark robes rustling faintly. One of them stepped forward. "My lord, what have we done to deserve such an honor as your lordly presence?"

    Darius didn¡¯t even look at them. "I¡¯m not here to explain myself to you."

    Alice, however, was more engaged. She stepped forward and explained, "We¡¯re here for personal matters. You don¡¯t need to worry about it. Stay away from the room we¡¯re heading into. Do not approach."Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    The cultists exchanged uneasy glances before reluctantly stepping aside. Despite complying, their gaze lingered curiously.

    The trio reached one of the deeper chambers, where the entrance was veiled by magical wards. These wards formed a glowing barrier, their shapes shifting unpredictably between jagged lines and fluid spirals. The faint buzz of their energy hinted at a potent defense against intruders unworthy of entry.

    As the trio stepped into the chamber, the entrance sealed shut behind them. Arayn halted. He summoned his status window, the glowing interface highlighting Intelligence and Charisma stats. These were the keys to bending the will of demons.

    After thinking that his stats were enough, he observed the chamber. The ancient stone walls bore the craftsmanship of a long-lost civilization, yet they were marred by newer demonic symbols. The glow from the runes on the floor cast long, eerie shadows.

    Darius strode to the center of the chamber. He extended his arms, his voice rising in a chant that seemed to draw the very air into its rhythm.

    "Zaal''tir, servant of the Abyssal Depths, hear this call. By blood and shadow, by pact and flame, I summon thee to this mortal plane."

    As he chanted, he began placing the artifacts around the summoning circle. A blackened goblet, its rim encrusted with dried blood. A shard of obsidian, etched with faint runic symbols. Charred feathers, their edges still smoldering.

    At the circle¡¯s center, Darius raised a ceremonial blade, its surface engraved with writhing demonic glyphs. Fresh blood dripped from its edge, hissing as it struck the floor and sent faint ripples of energy through the glowing sigils. He placed the blade carefully on the central rune, its crimson offering seeping into the grooves of the symbol as if feeding the ritual itself.

    The summoning circle ignited with a blazing glow, its runes flaring brighter than before. The chamber trembled under the force of the magic as tendrils of energy coiled and writhed. Slowly, a figure began to take form within the circle¡ªa demon emerging from the void, its body shifting between ethereal and solid.

    Alice stood nearby, her expression torn between intrigue and unease. Her hands hovered close to her weapons, her tension barely hidden as she braced for the unexpected. Arayn remained motionless, his stance unwavering. His gaze stayed fixed on the demon.

    The chamber quaked as the summoning circle reached its zenith. A rift tore open at its center, spilling searing crimson light and sulfurous smoke. The figure that emerged dwarfed even the tallest mortal men. Twisted horns jutted from its elongated skull, and molten cracks snaked across its hulking, armored frame. Its claws twitched, and an aura of pure menace radiated from its monstrous form.

    As the summoning neared completion, the glowing runes of the circle suddenly dimmed and shattered. The demon''s glowing eyes flared as it snarled.

    "You dare summon me with this feeble ritual, only to destroy my anchor?" it spat, its words directed at Darius. "You imbecile! You''ve severed my path back to the Netherworld!"

    Darius folded his arms, unperturbed by the demon''s rage. His expression remained stern as he responded, "Watch your tongue, beast. You can return to the Netherworld¡ªif you succeed in killing that young man." He pointed at Arayn, standing silently at the edge of the chamber.

    The demon''s blazing gaze shifted to Arayn, annoyance etched in its every movement. It sneered, but its tension eased upon seeing him. "I have heard the terms of the contract, mortal. If you break it, you forfeit your life, no matter your level of power."

    Darius smirked, turning to Arayn with mockery in his tone. "Well then, Arayn. Are you truly prepared for this? Or was your confidence misplaced all along?"

    Arayn met Darius¡¯s taunt with a calm gaze. "I¡¯ll defeat it," he said simply, "And I¡¯ll do it with only one ability."

    "Arrogant whelp," Zaal''tir growled, his molten eyes narrowing. "You think yourself untouchable."

    Arayn didn¡¯t respond. He charged. Two red fangs materialized in his grasp¡ª[Cursed Fangs]. Their surfaces glowed as he closed the distance.

    Zaal''tir swung a massive claw, aiming to cleave Arayn in two, but the man ducked under it, the air rippling from the force of the strike. Sparks erupted as Arayn''s blades collided with the demon''s armored forearm, leaving shallow gashes across its infernal plating.

    "You¡¯re slow," Arayn said. He darted to the side, forcing Zaal''tir to pivot, the demon¡¯s heavy steps cracking the chamber¡¯s stone floor.

    Zaal''tir snarled, lashing out again with greater force. Arayn weaved through the attacks like water. His blades found their mark, carving wounds into the demon¡¯s thick hide.

    The demon roared in frustration, his claws swiping at empty air as Arayn danced out of reach. "This room!" Zaal''tir bellowed. "It¡¯s too small for a proper fight!"

    Arayn smirked, sidestepping another swing before retaliating with a flurry of slashes that left the demon staggering. "Excuses already?" he said. "Maybe you¡¯re just not as powerful as you claim."

    Zaal''tir roared in frustration, his clawed hand sweeping downward as tendrils of shadow erupted from the ground. The [Shadow Bind] snaked around Arayn¡¯s arms and legs, tightening like living chains to hold him in place. Without hesitation, Zaal¡¯tir inhaled deeply, his chest swelling unnaturally, and unleashed a torrent of green flames¡ªa [Nether Breath] so searing that the very air around it warped.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed, his voice calm as he chanted in an ancient demonic tongue, "Kharz''othan vyr, uthar¡¯vashar zhaor." The [Cursed Fangs] in his grip glowed faintly, responding to the invocation. In an instant, the fangs elongated unnaturally, tearing into the stone floor as they propelled Arayn to the side. The infernal breath scorched the space where he had stood moments before, leaving nothing but molten rock.

    Darius took a step back, his eyes wide. "The ancient demonic language?" he muttered, disbelief coloring his voice. "He¡¯s actually learned it?"

    The ancient demonic language wasn¡¯t just a forgotten dialect¡ªit was a means to manipulate the very essence of demonic abilities, reshaping them into something entirely new. For an acolyte like Arayn, who should have been limited to basic techniques, this mastery bordered on the impossible.

    Without hesitation, Arayn pivoted, one of the elongated fangs still glowing with energy. He hurled it toward Zaal¡¯tir. The fang spiraled through the air before striking its target and detonated. The explosion sent a shockwave rippling through the chamber, shattering nearby stonework and enveloping Zaal¡¯tir in a cloud of dust and fiery embers.

 Chapter 5: Information

    Zaal''tir staggered backward as the shockwave from the explosion dissipated. Smoke curled from the scorched flesh on his chest, and his once-menacing aura wavered. His blazing eyes, full of malice moments ago, now reflected fear.

    Zaal''tir bowed before Arayn, grotesque claws pressed into the blood-stained floor. "Spare me! I... I was wrong! Your strength... your power surpasses my comprehension. Please, have mercy!"

    Arayn''s crimson eyes bore into Zaal''tir¡¯s, a predator staring down prey. The demon¡¯s towering frame seemed to shrink under the intensity of that gaze.

    "Mercy?" Arayn¡¯s voice was detached. He raised the final [Cursed Fang] in his hand. "You forfeited that when you entered this world."

    Zaal''tir flinched, the plea dying in his throat. "No! Wait¡ª"

    Arayn drove the [Cursed Fang] downward. The fang pierced through Zaal''tir¡¯s skull and unleashed a surge of destructive energy.

    The demon''s roar echoed through the chamber before fading into silence as his body disintegrated. Arayn stood over the dissipating ashes, his expression unchanging.

    Arayn''s mind sharpened as the energy surged through his body, his senses heightening with every passing moment. The familiar rush of mana coursed through him, marking a new milestone. The screen flickered before him, displaying the results of his progress.

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 17

    Stats:

    Strength: 23

    Dexterity: 17

    Constitution: 34

    Intelligence: 34

    Wisdom: 18

    Charisma: 28]

    Darius couldn¡¯t help but admire the way Arayn fought. There was no wasted energy, no hesitation. When he removed his enemies, he was swift. Such ruthlessness. He could see it in the way Arayn¡¯s gaze never faltered.

    ¡°Magnificent display, lad,¡± Darius said, his voice carrying a rare note of respect. ¡°You¡¯ve got skill, power. I¡¯d back your rise, without hesitation. We could work together even after the ritual, if you¡¯re open to it. An alliance, maybe. I could see the value in it.¡±

    Alice, standing a little further back, watched the exchange. Her gaze lingered on Arayn, and there was something in her eyes¡ªadmiration, yes, but also caution. She understood power. She understood the danger of it, too. It was clear Arayn wielded both without mercy.

    Arayn''s gaze locked onto Darius with an unwavering focus. "Don''t forget about my two requests. Make sure they''re handled."

    Darius nodded. ¡°Of course. You will see it done. I trust you, lad. Whatever this deathmatch brings, I believe in your ability to see it through. Even if the High Sovereign has picked a demon who¡¯s more trouble than expected.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll twist it in my favor. The deathmatch will play out exactly as I want it. It will.¡±

    ---

    The Duskwatch Town manor perched atop the hill. Its spires reached into the sky. The estate¡¯s walls were black stone, weathered and cold, with jagged edges that seemed to absorb the light.

    Inside, Baron Raveth Valtheran sat at a long table, the shadows of his grief painting dark lines across his face. The room was richly furnished, yet it felt suffocating. The heavy curtains blocked out the natural light, leaving only the dim glow of candles to illuminate the room. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white.

    Across from him, Valen Valehn stood. His eyes scanned the bookshelf, admiring the collection.

    ¡°My father is dead, cousin,¡± Raveth lamented, "He was murdered. And I have nothing. No leads. No answers.¡± His hands gripped the table, his fingers digging into the wood. ¡°I will find the bastard who did this.¡±

    Valen¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°Such a loss is never easy, Baron. My condolences. Truly.¡±

    Raveth¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°Condolences don¡¯t bring him back.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Valen replied. ¡°But they offer understanding. And understanding can be the first step toward finding justice.¡±

    Raveth leaned forward, frustration bubbling up in his voice. ¡°What do you mean by that? What are you suggesting?¡±

    Valen¡¯s lips curled into a slight, almost imperceptible smile. ¡°Sometimes, Baron, the truth isn¡¯t something you can find alone. And sometimes... it¡¯s something you have to let come to you.¡± He let the words hang in the air. ¡°But don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m confident that, with a little... guidance, you¡¯ll uncover what you seek. Justice has a way of finding its way into the right hands.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    The room grew quiet as Raveth tried to gauge Valen¡¯s meaning. However, he wasn''t one with a bright mind. When his father was alive, he''d love to spend most of his time in a brothel. Wasted all day. Therefore, he decided to not think about the meaning. "You have to help me, cousin," he pleaded.

    The doors slammed open, causing both men to turn toward the entrance. A figure emerged from the shadows, tall and cloaked. Kaelion Vorth, another deathmatch participant, stepped into the room. In his hand, he held a glowing red crystal.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to search for the culprit, Baron. I¡¯ve already found him.¡±

    The crystal in his hand flared to life, sending a wave of energy rippling through the air. The light intensified, and a vivid projection appeared above the table. The scene unfolded clearly. The former Baron, struggling and helpless, crashed to the floor of the very room. A cloaked figure loomed over him¡ªArayn. Dark tendrils lashed out from his hand, piercing the Baron''s chest. With an agonized gasp, the Baron¡¯s life was snuffed out in an instant.

    The room fell silent, the weight of the revelation sinking in like a cold stone in the pit of Raveth¡¯s stomach. He leaned forward, his eyes wide with shock. ¡°That¡¯s a demonic ability,¡± he hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and rage. His gaze fixed on the figure in the projection. ¡°He''s from the cult.¡±

    Kaelion remained unmoved, his eyes detached as he watched the Baron¡¯s reaction. But it was Valen who spoke next, trying to manipulate Raveth.

    ¡°The assassin is indeed connected to the cult, but you¡¯re a fool if you think revenge will be so simple. He¡¯s not just any man. Arayn is the son of the High Sovereign.¡±

    Raveth¡¯s face twisted with rage. ¡°The High Sovereign¡¯s son? What does that mean for me?¡±

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°It means that, if you seek revenge against him, you will not only be hunting a man. You¡¯ll be challenging the very foundation of power itself. Arayn¡¯s bloodline carries weight. Dangerous weight. And I suggest you reconsider your course of action.¡±

    Raveth stood motionless for a moment, the anger still burning in his eyes, but now clouded by uncertainty. "What should I do, then, my cousin? It''s my father we are speaking about, the husband of your aunt. He loved her and me. He never scolded me when I did something wrong. He always gave everything to me!! But I never had a chance to be filial with him! I am a bad son...no...I cannot call myself his son if I can''t avenge him. Please help me, Valen."

    Valen folded his hands over the table, his calm expression never wavering. "Naturally, I will help. The cult has chosen Duskwatch Town as the sacred ground for a significant ritual. And Arayn, as fate would have it, will be one of the participants in a deathmatch." His eyes lingered on the Baron, calculating. "This presents us with a unique opportunity."

    Leaning forward, Valen''s tone grew conspiratorial. "I propose a pact, My Cousin. Together, we can eliminate Arayn during the match. With him gone, we can strike a blow not only to the cult but also to the High Sovereign¡¯s influence. And as for you, if we succeed, the Valtheran family name will rise again. I will help you restore your family''s honor in the cult."

    The Baron¡¯s breath hitched, his expression torn between anguish and hope. He clenched his fists, trembling as the promise of redemption dangled before him. Tears welled in his eyes, the emotion breaking through his guarded demeanor. Finally, he nodded. "I... I¡¯ll support you. Whatever it takes. I¡¯ll do what must be done."

    Valen offered a faint smile, the faintest glimmer of satisfaction flickering behind his composed facade. The trap was set.

    ---

    Arayn, Darius, and Alice sat in a room dimly lit by a single hanging lantern, its light casting long shadows across the wooden walls.

    Darius leaned forward, breaking the silence with a question. "Do you have the catalyst for summoning the demon? The one the High Sovereign assigned to you?"

    Without hesitation, Arayn reached into his coat, showing a crystal. Its surface shimmered faintly, dark streaks writhing within as if something sinister pulsed beneath.

    Darius studied the crystal closely, his brows knitting together. "That thing¡¯s no simple tool. A powerful demon will be summoned if you use that catalyst," he said.

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained impassive as he slipped the crystal back into his coat. "I¡¯ll deal with the demon when it¡¯s time. For now, I want details on the other candidates. What do you have?"

    Darius nodded, sliding a stack of papers across the table. "Here¡¯s everything I¡¯ve gathered so far."

    Arayn skimmed the documents, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Quick work. As expected of you."

    Alice, seated nearby, picked up one of the notes and began reading aloud. "Lyssa Morgaine. Her family¡¯s reputation precedes her. They have produced several Crimson Executors and Abyssal Priests¡ªquite the lineage. But she¡¯s just the daughter of a mistress. Probably sent to participate because they see her as expendable."

    She set the note down. "She¡¯s the weakest, a pawn in this game."

    Arayn tapped his fingers on the table, his gaze lingering on the report. He said nothing but allowed a subtle smile to form. Weak? No. He had seen her ambition, especially in the way her gaze lingered on Alice. She had fire in her, but for now, he kept that thought to himself, his amusement hidden behind a mask of calm.

    Alice picked up the next note and scanned it quickly before speaking. "Kaelion Vorth," she said, her tone carrying a note of intrigue. "A cult member with undeniable talent. They say he¡¯s powerful, but he doesn¡¯t have a significant background. He¡¯s the opposite of Lyssa Morgaine¡ªno lineage to fall back on, just raw ability."

    Arayn leaned back, his fingers lightly drumming the edge of the table. "No background doesn¡¯t mean no threat," he said. "Sometimes those with nothing to lose are the most dangerous."

    Alice smirked. "I never thought I¡¯d hear that from your arrogant mouth."

    His gaze shifted to her. "You¡¯re a fool. I know a worthy opponent when I see one. Not that I think Kaelion is worthy, mind you." He waved a hand dismissively. "Now, stop wasting time and continue."

    With a raised brow and a faint shrug, Alice moved on. "Saria Kaelthara," she read, her tone neutral. "A strong contender. She has both talent and the backing of her influential family¡ª"

    "Spare me the details," Arayn interrupted. "I¡¯m not interested in that worm."

    Alice hesitated, then placed Saria¡¯s note aside and picked up the next one. "Fine. Next... these last two might be different. They could be your greatest rivals yet."

 Chapter 6: Mysterious Painter Boy

    Alice picked up another note and scanned its contents, her brow furrowing slightly. "Valen Valehn. He¡¯s from one of the four greatest families in our cult. The Valehn family holds influence that even surpasses our Azael family."

    She glanced at Arayn, gauging his reaction before continuing. "Their power isn¡¯t just internal. The Valehn family is recognized as noble by the Varondale Kingdom itself. They¡¯re the bridge connecting us to the surface world. Without them, our cult would have a harder time gaining information about the surface."

    Alice paused for a moment, tapping the edge of the paper. "And Valen isn¡¯t just a name in that lineage, he¡¯s the direct successor of the Valehn family¡ªa position he earned, not inherited. His overwhelming talent is impossible to ignore."

    Her voice took on a note of reverence as she read further. "He¡¯s mastered more magic branches than most could dream of. Necromancy, dark magic, light magic¡ªyes, even light magic¡ªalchemy, ancient demon language, and several others not even listed here. His hunger for knowledge and power is... unsettling. He learns relentlessly, like he¡¯s determined to surpass even the boundaries of our understanding."

    She set the note down, her expression pensive. "A talent like his is rare, Arayn. And dangerous. I think he will be your greatest obstacle."

    Arayn leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Now this one is interesting. But I¡¯m more curious about the last candidate. Read his note, Alice."

    Alice hesitated for a moment, then flipped to the final sheet in the pile. Her eyes scanned the words, and her expression shifted to one of disbelief. "Eryndor Drexar," she read aloud. "It says here he¡¯s defeated expert-class warriors before. That¡¯s... impossible. How have I never heard of him?"

    Darius chuckled. "Keep reading. His background will clear up your confusion."

    Alice¡¯s brow furrowed as she continued. When her eyes reached a particular line, she froze. "Crimson Moon Sect. He¡¯s from the Crimson Moon Sect? How does someone from a branch sect participate in our cult¡¯s ritual?"

    The Crimson Moon Sect, a branch of the Crimson Sun, operated directly under the High Sovereign. Its members were rarely involved in external affairs, let alone rituals of this scale.

    Darius¡¯s grin widened as he answered her unspoken question. "This is the High Sovereign¡¯s decision. As his servants, we have no right to question it. We simply obey."

    Arayn remained silent, his gaze thoughtful as he processed this revelation. Eryndor Drexar. The name lingered in his mind. Aside from Lyssa, this was the first candidate who truly intrigued him. With just meeting the man, Arayn could sense his latent talent.

    A sudden laugh escaped Arayn¡¯s lips, breaking the tension in the room. "It seems this won¡¯t be boring after all. I hope every candidate finds a way to entertain me. I will personally witness how far they can go before they break."

    ---

    The Verdant Shroud stretched endlessly, a dense forest of twisted trees and thick underbrush. A humid breeze swirled through the air. The path ahead was narrow, barely wide enough for Arayn to pass without brushing against the thorn-covered vines.

    Duskwatch Town was still a day''s journey away, but the deathmatch would require more than just the strength of his arm. He needed to be ready.

    Stopping momentarily, Arayn reached into his pouch and withdrew a potion¡ªa deep purple liquid that shimmered faintly. The faint sting of its scent filled his nostrils as he uncorked the vial and drank it. The potion burned as it slid down his throat.

    The liquid''s power coursed through him immediately, sacrificing his experience points gain to temporarily enhance his agility growth.

    Soon, rustling leaves announced the presence of forest monsters. He deactivated the Robe of Concealment, letting the full force of his [Demonic Aura] spread outward like a dark cloud, weakening the monsters as they drew near.

    Three Bloodthorn Beasts appeared, their eyes glowing with hunger. These creatures stood with four legs with sleek bodies covered in bristling fur. Their heads looked like a wolf but with a boar-like stout.

    Arayn¡¯s aura pressed against them like a weight, sapping their strength. In an instant, he hurled [Cursed Fangs] at then. The monsters staggered, their bodies convulsing.

    He stepped forward, his hand reaching out, dark tendrils sprouting from his palm. [Soul Rend] tore through the creatures. Their bodies collapsed to the ground, motionless, as the tendrils retracted back into his hand.

    The forest fell silent once again.

    [Your dexterity has increased +2]

    Arayn stood among the fallen. The potion had done its work. His dexterity had increased by two points, a small but vital gain. With a slight smirk, Arayn continued on his journey, the Verdant Shroud parting before him as he moved toward Duskwatch Town.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Arayn continued deeper into the Verdant Shroud, his gaze scanning the surroundings. The faint scent of blood reached him, and he slowed his steps. Through the dense foliage, he spotted a clearing where a young boy sat cross-legged on the ground. The boy worked quietly, his brush capturing a vivid scene of a Bloodthorn Beast ripping into the body of a deer. His focus was too absolute to notice the second beast creeping up behind him, its claws digging into the dirt as it prepared to pounce.

    Arayn acted swiftly. His [Demonic Aura] rolled outward, causing the ambushing creature to falter. The boy froze, sensing the shift in the air, but he didn¡¯t turn. Before the beast could recover, Arayn raised his hand, and black tendrils erupted from his palm. The creature let out a strangled cry and collapsed. The first Bloodthorn Beast snarled, abandoning its meal to charge at Arayn.

    Unmoved, Arayn threw a [Cursed Fang] at the beast, its sharp edge sinking into the creature¡¯s hide. Arayn closed the distance with a single step, dark energy coiling around his hand as he delivered the finishing blow with [Soul Rend].

    The boy finally turned, his wide eyes darting between the lifeless creatures and the man who had saved him. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t even see it,¡± he stammered, clutching his paintbrush tightly. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have,¡± Arayn said coolly, lowering his hand. ¡°What¡¯s a kid doing in a forest like this, alone?¡±

    The boy hesitated, glancing down at his easel. ¡°I was with a traveling merchant caravan,¡± he began. ¡°But bandits attacked us. They killed everyone else¡­ I ran and got lost here. I¡¯m heading to Duskwatch Town now. It¡¯s the only place left for me.¡±

    Arayn studied him for a moment, noting the exhaustion in his expression. ¡°Duskwatch Town,¡± he echoed. ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯m going.¡± He gestured with a nod. ¡°You can follow me. This place isn¡¯t safe.¡±

    The boy¡¯s relief was evident as he gave a shaky nod. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll try not to slow you down.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s eyes moved to the easel. ¡°Why were you painting a monster?¡±

    The boy blinked, then looked at the unfinished painting, smeared with blood from the fight. ¡°Because¡­ I want to paint the world as it is. Not just the beautiful things, but the terrifying ones too. It¡¯s all part of life, and I want to capture it.¡±

    Arayn raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. ¡°That¡¯s an odd goal for someone your age,¡± he said. ¡°Why?¡±

    The boy gave a faint smile. ¡°Because it¡¯s the only thing that makes me feel alive,¡± he admitted. ¡°Painting helps me make sense of it all.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s lips twitched, almost forming a smile. ¡°Strange,¡± he murmured. ¡°But I suppose there¡¯s a kind of beauty in that.¡±

    They began walking, the boy carrying his supplies while talking about his passion for art. Arayn listened quietly, his usual detachment giving way to curiosity. The boy¡¯s perspective, while unusual, lingered in his mind as they pressed on toward Duskwatch Town.

    A day later, Duskwatch Town''s silhouette emerged on the horizon, its stone walls and watchtowers standing vigilant against the wild forest surrounding it. Arayn and the boy trudged along the worn dirt path. The boy¡¯s expression brightened at the sight of civilization.

    As they approached the gate, the guards stationed there stiffened. Their gazes locked on Arayn, and whispers passed between them. One of them stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. ¡°You there!¡± he barked. ¡°You¡¯re the one who killed the baron of Duskwatch! Stop where you are!¡±

    The boy froze, his eyes widening in shock as he turned to Arayn. But before he could speak, Arayn placed a hand on his shoulder and said, ¡°Stay out of this.¡±

    Without hesitation, Arayn stepped back, his form flickering like a shadow under the midday sun. In an instant, he vanished, reappearing several meters away at the edge of the forest. The guards shouted, their swords drawn as they gave chase, but Arayn slipped deeper into the trees.

    The guards charged into the forest, but their armor clinked noisily, and their heavy boots crushed the underbrush, giving away their position. Arayn, by contrast, moved silently, his steps untraceable as he activated [Demonic Step], propelling himself effortlessly between the towering trees. He leaped onto a thick branch, using it as a springboard to gain height, then dropped soundlessly into the shadows below.

    One of the guards yelled, ¡°He went this way!¡± But Arayn was already behind them. He let out a faint chuckle, his [Demonic Aura] pulsing briefly to confuse their senses. The forest became his weapon¡ªbranches obscured their vision, roots caught their boots, and the dense canopy cast long shadows, making it impossible to track him.

    As the guards stumbled further into the thicket, their frustration mounted. Arayn, meanwhile, darted through the maze of trees with ease.

    When he was certain the guards were far enough behind, Arayn stopped beneath a towering oak.

    ¡°They¡¯ll keep looking,¡± he murmured to himself. ¡°I guess participating in the deathmatch while avoiding the Valtheran Family just became more interesting. Still, I wonder how they found out.¡±

    With that, he adjusted his robe, shrouding his [Demonic Aura] once more. He cast a glance toward the distant town, its walls obscured by the trees, and began walking deeper into the woods.

    Arayn reached the glade. It was quiet, untouched. The sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting a faint glow on the ground below. He paused, taking in the stillness, and then moved to the center. Here, he would summon a demon. Here, he would defeat it.

    He knelt. His hands worked quickly, laying out the catalysts: powdered bone, blackened ash, and a vial of blood. Each formed a circle etched with runes carved into the dirt. At the center, he set the crystal from his father.

    The ritual began. The air grew heavy as the runes flared to life. The forest fell silent. No rustle of leaves, no noise of insects. Only the rising tension. Only the sound of his voice as he chanted the summoning ritual.

    "From the depths of shadow and flame. By blood spilled and names unspoken, I call thee forth, breaker of bonds. Malzareth, servant of abyssal power, hear my voice. By this circle drawn in ash and bone. By the crystal charged with ancient sin. Rise now, from the void unseen, and answer my command, demon of the netherworld."

    Flames erupted¡ªblack and red, shifting and wild, burning without heat. The crystal cracked. Energy surged, rippling outward, and then the demon emerged.

    It rose from the circle, a towering form of obsidian flesh and horns. Its eyes burned. Its claws flexed as it stepped forward. The beast¡¯s voice boomed, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

    ¡°Who summons me? Speak, mortal, before I tear you apart!¡±

    Arayn said nothing. Not yet. Instead, he raised his hand, and with a single, decisive motion, he shattered the circle. The runes fizzled and died, their light extinguished in an instant. The demon froze, its fiery eyes narrowing as realization dawned. He was trapped. Stranded.

    The demon roared, his fury consuming the glade. ¡°You dare imprison me?¡± he snarled, lunging forward. ¡°You will pay for this!¡±

    Arayn stood firm, his own dark aura rising to meet the demon¡¯s rage. The ground beneath him cracked, the air around him buzzing with power. He didn¡¯t flinch. He didn¡¯t waver. Instead, he smiled.

    ¡°You¡¯re staying. Your freedom was never part of the plan.¡±

 Chapter 7: Malzareth

    Malzareth''s laughter reverberated like a haunting echo. Without warning, he cast [Soul Rend]. Shadowy tendrils shot toward Arayn.

    Reacting instantly, Arayn activated [Soul Rend]. His own tendrils lashed out, colliding mid-air with Malzareth''s attack. A violent shockwave rippled through as both forces canceled each other.

    Arayn''s eyes narrowed. "To think you possess an ability like mine."

    Malzareth smirked, his voice dripping with contempt. "Mortal, I am superior in every way."

    Arayn''s lips curled into a faint smile. "Let''s see if that''s true."

    With a swift motion, he hurled three [Cursed Fangs] at Malzareth. The projectiles whistled through the air, closing in on their target. But Malzareth''s form shimmered. His body turned ethereal, and the fangs passed harmlessly through him.

    In a blink, Malzareth reappeared, his speed amplified by his supernatural prowess. He closed the distance between them, his strides impossibly fast.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes flared with determination as his [Demonic Aura] erupted, saturating the air with oppressive energy. Malzareth¡¯s speed faltered slightly, his movements slowing.

    Arayn raised his voice, chanting, "Kharz''othan, vorrak xyl¡¯na tal!"

    The fangs began to tremble in the distance, reversing their trajectory. But Malzareth was already upon him, his fist a blur as it connected with Arayn''s chest. The impact was devastating, sending Arayn hurtling into a nearby tree.

    Malzareth straightened. "Pathetic," he said in disdain.

    A sudden hiss sliced through the air. The three [Cursed Fangs], now glowing with dark energy, plunged into Malzareth¡¯s back. His expression twisted in surprise and fury as they detonated in a deafening explosion.

    Smoke and dark flames engulfed the area, and as the dust settled, Arayn pushed himself up from the ground, coughing but grinning. "Superiority, you said? Doesn''t look like it from here."

    Malzareth emerged from the haze, his form battered but defiant, his eyes blazing with hatred. "I won''t let you die. I will turn you into a spirit slave and torture you for eternity!"

    Arayn activated [Phantom Step], his figure flickering like a ghost as he closed the distance in an instant. With a surge of dark energy, he unleashed [Soul Rend], black tendrils lashing out toward Malzareth. The demon countered with [Ethereal Step], his body dissolving into a ghostly form, sidestepping the attack. But [Soul Rend] was no ordinary strike. It didn¡¯t only target the physical¡ªit sought the soul too.

    The tendrils found purchase in Malzareth''s ethereal arm, tearing through it with a sickening rip. Malzareth reappeared at a distance, clutching his now-severed arm, a scream of agony echoing through the forest.

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained cold. He gave no time for reprieve. Three [Cursed Fangs] materialized in his hand before streaking toward the wounded demon. Malzareth growled, raising his remaining hand to summon [Soul Rend], the swirling black tendrils swiping the fangs away mid-flight. The effort left him panting, blood pouring from the stump where his arm had been.

    The demon¡¯s eyes darted around frantically, landing on a nearby deer frozen in place, its wide eyes reflecting terror. Malzareth hissed an incantation, casting [Soul Shackle] to paralyze the creature. In a blur of motion, he lunged at the deer, his mouth opening unnaturally wide as he drained its soul.

    Arayn watched with interest. "Impressive. You have the abilities I desire."

    Malzareth wiped the blood from his mouth and snarled. "You haven¡¯t seen all I can do, mortal."

    He raised his remaining hand, his body pulsing with dark energy as he invoked [Essence Infusion]. The soul of the deer burned within him, fueling his strength. The ground trembled, and a wave of immense power radiated from the demon.

    Malzareth growled, his form turning ethereal as he activated [Ethereal Step] and charged at Arayn. Arayn responded in kind, using [Phantom Step] to maintain the distance between them. As he moved, his voice echoed in ancient demonic tongue, "Va''zul thas, xe''ra miran. Kos''alai ma''zerok."

    With each step, a black clone materialized. Malzareth pursued relentlessly, only to find himself intercepted as the clones erupted into bursts of black smoke when approached. Though unharmed, his vision was shrouded in swirling darkness, forcing him to rely on instinct rather than sight.

    From within the obscuring smoke, Arayn¡¯s hand darted forward, hurling several [Cursed Fangs]. They streaked through the air, piercing the haze before detonating in rapid succession. The force of the explosions ripped through the area.

    Then Malzareth emerged, his body battered and scorched, dark ichor dripping from his wounds. His red eyes burned with fury, but his ethereal form had vanished.

    Arayn smirked. "What''s wrong? Can''t turn ethereal anymore?"The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Malzareth¡¯s roar was primal, his voice shaking the air. "I will kill you!"

    But as he surged forward, Arayn emitted his [Demonic Aura]. The oppressive energy weighed down on Malzareth, his movements sluggish and labored. Before the demon could close the distance, Arayn stepped forward, his palm pressing firmly against Malzareth''s chest.

    "[Soul Rend]," Arayn intoned. Dark tendrils erupted from his hand, piercing through Malzareth¡¯s chest and bursting out of his back. The demon¡¯s body convulsed, his form beginning to disintegrate into ash.

    Malzareth¡¯s voice cracked with rage and despair. "Curse you, human!" he spat, his body crumbling as his essence was torn apart.

    As the last remnants of his form dissolved into the wind, a crimson sword clattered to the ground.

    [You dexterity has increased+2]

    As the lingering sensation of the potion''s effects faded, Arayn paused, flexing his fingers as a satisfied smile crossed his face. The potion had served its purpose, pushing his dexterity up by four. "I''ll need to ask Darius for a potion that can permanently boost my wisdom stat," he murmured to himself.

    [Name: Arayn

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 17

    Stats:

    Strength: 23

    Dexterity: 21

    Constitution: 34

    Intelligence: 34

    Wisdom: 18

    Charisma: 28]

    Bringing up his status window, he quickly confirmed the increase, a spark of satisfaction flickering in his gaze. Closing the interface, his attention shifted to the crimson sword lying amidst the ash where Malzareth had stood moments before. Reaching down, he picked it up, the weapon cold yet thrumming faintly with latent energy.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t an ordinary catalyst. This¡­ this is a demonic artifact.¡±

    Holding the blade firmly, he channeled a trickle of mana into it. Immediately, his mind was flooded with knowledge¡ªthe sword¡¯s name and its abilities.

    A grin curved his lips as he murmured, ¡°So, you grant me the powers of Malzareth¡­ This blade is beyond extraordinary.¡± His voice was tinged with admiration as he studied the weapon, its sleek surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly in response to his touch.

    He exhaled, his grip tightening on the hilt. ¡°I¡¯ll need to give you to the cult for now, but after the deathmatch, I swear I¡¯ll retrieve you. You¡¯re far too valuable to leave behind.¡± With one last glance at the blade, he sheathed it carefully.

    ---

    In a valley rested between two hills, a faint moonlight trickled down. Lyssa kneeled as she drew a magic circle. Her hands etched the final rune into the drawing. She wiped the sweat from her brow, feeling the cool night air.

    She stood, taking a long breath. ¡°The magic formation is set.¡±

    Her heart pounded. She glanced at the symbols beneath her, glowing softly in the dark. She wasn¡¯t sure if she could defeat the demon she was about to summon. In fact, could she even survive this deathmatch? All other candidates seemed powerful.

    She thought back to that day, her father¡¯s harsh voice echoing in her mind. ¡°You will enter the deathmatch,¡± he had said, giving no room for choice. The memory hurt. It made her chest tighten. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She hadn¡¯t asked for any of this. She didn¡¯t want to be part of the cult. She just wanted a normal life. A friend. A simple, peaceful life.

    But Alice... Lyssa¡¯s mind wandered to her. It must be nice to be Alice. No worries. No battles. Just the freedom to be whatever she wanted. Lyssa could almost picture it¡ªbeing close to Alice, laughing, sharing secrets. It felt like a dream, too far away to reach.

    But then, a thought struck her. "If I win... I could be her fianc¨¦e." The idea stirred something in her chest. A spark of hope. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was something. That goal would be enough to push through, to survive the battle. She could endure. She had to.

    The tears dried. Her resolve hardened. She wasn¡¯t backing down now. The summoning was almost complete. One more step. And maybe, just maybe, this would all be worth it.

    Lyssa knelt before the glowing magic circle, her hands trembling as she placed the catalyst at its center. The item gleamed faintly under the moonlight, its power crackling against the air. With a deep breath, she reached into her robe and pulled out a crumpled note.

    "Ra''garoth...K¡¯thar Zul''Dor, I invoke thee. From the deepest abyss, where shadows are born, heed my call. By the blood... of the forsaken, by the fire of souls unchained, arise and answer thy summoner. Ra''garoth, unleash thy fury, awaken from the dark! O demon, the abyss dweller, manifest thy power through the veil!"

    Her voice, barely a whisper at first, grew stronger as she began to chant. The ground trembled beneath her, the circle lighting up with a blinding brilliance. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold earth, too weak to stay upright. Her chest heaved, and the world around her spun. A chilling laughter echoed through the valley.

    "Is this the one who dares summon me?" The voice resonated through her very bones. A shadow materialized in front of her¡ªtall, imposing, its eyes burning with fire.

    Lyssa couldn¡¯t move. The demon¡¯s presence filled the air, suffocating. She could barely lift her head to meet his gaze.

    The demon¡¯s smile twisted. "Pathetic. Did you truly think you could form a contract with me, little summoner?"

    Her heart pounded, her breath ragged. She had done it. She had summoned him. But now, she wasn''t sure if she had the strength to face the creature she had called.

    "So, little summoner, do you have a request?" he growled. "If not, I shall return to the nether and leave you to your fate."

    Lyssa¡¯s heart hammered in her chest. She had feared this moment. But she couldn¡¯t afford to hesitate now. She held her breath, steadying her shaking hands.

    "Wait," she said.

    Ra''garoth''s sharp gaze narrowed, intrigued. "Speak quickly, then."

    With a nervous gulp, Lyssa forced herself to meet the demon¡¯s eyes. "Give your life to me," she said, her voice trembling.

    Ra''garoth¡¯s laughter filled the night. "Is this some sort of jest, mortal? If so, I have severely underestimated you. Turns out you are a funny circus comedian."

    "I-I need it!" Lyssa stammered, desperation creeping into her words. "Please, I need your life. I can''t do this without you."

    For a moment, Ra''garoth was silent. Then, with a mocking chuckle, he spoke again. "Very well. If you truly seek it, you must earn it. Let¡¯s have a battle. A battle to the death."

    Lyssa¡¯s stomach twisted. She could feel the demon''s arrogance, the sheer weight of his power. He was underestimating her, thinking her weak. But she had prepared for this. She had no other choice.

    The demon''s massive form stepped out of the circle, and as he did, the magic circle beneath him flared to life, bright golden light pouring from it like a rising sun. The magic spread outward, sparking into life across the valley. More magic circles¡ªdozens, hundreds¡ªbegan to glow in the dark, illuminating the night.

    The ground trembled. Then, with a deafening roar, colossal monsters began to materialize out of the very air around them. Giant serpents, hulking beasts with jagged horns, and enormous armored golems emerged, surrounding Ra''garoth in a tight ring.

    "I-Impossible! What kind of summoning magic is this? Who are you, mortal? How can you command over expert-level monsters?" the demon demanded.

 Chapter 8: Illusion

    Ra''garoth halted, his fiery eyes narrowing as he scanned the field. He sensed something off. The hulking monsters surrounding him didn¡¯t move to attack. Not a single claw raised, no fangs bared. Realizing something, his lips twisted into a snarl.

    "Wait¡­ why aren¡¯t they attacking?" His voice rumbled. His gaze darted around, analyzing the creatures. "No," he murmured, realization dawning. "I¡¯m mistaken. They cannot attack me¡­ because they don¡¯t exist, do they?"

    His voice climbed, filled with dark amusement. "These monsters¡­ they¡¯re all illusions!"

    Ra''garoth¡¯s aura exploded outward, a violent wave of heat and pressure that rippled through the valley. The ground beneath him cracked as he stomped with enough force to shake the earth. A growl escaped his lips as he slashed his claws through the air, releasing beams of dark energy that cut across the hills like scythes. One by one, the glowing magic circles fractured and shattered, their light fizzling out into nothingness.

    As the final circle crumbled, the monstrous army disintegrated like smoke in the wind. The valley was empty once more, silent except for the demon¡¯s triumphant laughter.

    "I was right!" Ra''garoth bellowed. "They¡¯re illusions! All of them!" His laughter rang out.

    Lyssa¡¯s hands trembled, beads of sweat dripping down her face. Her chest tightened with fear as the demon''s voice cut through the silence. Making illusions was all she had. It was the only trick she knew. And now, it had failed.

    Ra''garoth turned his blazing gaze toward her, his lips curling into a smirk. Slowly, he began to stride forward, his towering figure blotting out the stars above. "What now, little summoner?" he mocked. "Do you still have hope left to cling to?"

    Lyssa¡¯s heart raced as she summoned every ounce of courage she could muster. She thrust her hand skyward, calling forth another spell. A magic circle appeared above her, glowing ominously. From it, a colossal serpent materialized, its scales shimmering with an eerie light as it lunged toward the demon with its gaping maw.

    Ra''garoth didn¡¯t flinch. With a single wave of his hand, the serpent shattered into shards of light, dissolving into nothingness. He let out a derisive chuckle. "Useless!" he roared. "I don¡¯t know what you were planning, but you¡¯ll never defeat me with illusions."

    Lyssa stumbled back, her breaths shallow and panicked. Her mind raced for another strategy, but nothing came. Her power felt insignificant before the demon¡¯s overwhelming might.

    As she faltered, a shadow streaked past her. A massive wolf, its fur bristling and its glowing eyes locked onto Ra''garoth, charged forward with incredible speed.

    Ra''garoth laughed again, shaking his head. "You still don¡¯t understand, mortal. Even if I didn¡¯t destroy it, an illusion can never harm¡ª"

    His words stopped mid-sentence. The wolf¡¯s claws tore through his chest. A fiery glow spread from the wound as Ra''garoth staggered back.

    "This¡­ this is not an illusion?" he choked out, his voice wavering. His molten eyes flicked to Lyssa, seeking an answer.

    The wolf¡¯s claws twisted, and Ra''garoth¡¯s body began to disintegrate. His form crumbled into ash, scattering in the wind. As his remains fell to the earth, a single object clattered to the ground¡ªa magic artifact, a book bound in blackened leather and etched with glowing runes.

    Lyssa stared at the book, her breath catching in her throat. She had won, but her hands still trembled. This victory, like the ash in the air, felt unreal.

    The wolf growled softly, then turned toward Lyssa. Its body shimmered with silvery light before it began to shift and transform. Fur receded, bones cracked, and limbs reshaped until, standing tall before her, was a man. His wild, untamed hair cascaded past his shoulders, and his piercing golden eyes locked onto hers. A sharp grin spread across his face as he crossed his arms casually.

    "Yo, master," he said.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Lyssa blinked, her legs wobbling beneath her. "Who¡­ who are you?" she asked.

    The man chuckled, his grin widening. "You didn¡¯t think your family would sit back and let you fail at the demon-slaying ritual, did you? I¡¯m here to assist you."

    Lyssa¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "My family¡­ sent you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

    He nodded confidently. "Yeah. By the way, you¡¯ve done a fantastic job, master. If it weren¡¯t for your illusion, that demon wouldn¡¯t have let his guard down. Smart thinking." He gave her a thumbs-up.

    Lyssa blinked rapidly, her cheeks growing warm. Her heart thumped against her chest, a strange mix of emotions swirling within her¡ªrelief, pride, maybe even something more. She couldn¡¯t quite place the feeling, but it felt¡­ good. Clearing her throat, she steadied herself and asked, "What¡¯s your name?"

    The man straightened and gave a small bow, his grin never fading. "My name is Thalric from the Silverfang clan. At your service, master."

    ---

    Saria Kaelthara resided in a grand mansion perched on the outskirts of the quiet town. The vast hall within was dimly lit by flickering candelabras, casting long shadows over the stone walls. She reclined in her ornate throne, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched the spectacle before her.

    A blonde-haired girl clad in a pristine priestess uniform, her battle axe gleaming under the candlelight, stepped forward. The demon Saria had summoned¡ªa hulking beast with crimson skin and jagged horns¡ªroared in defiance, but its end was swift. With one clean stroke, the girl brought her axe down, severing its head. The demon''s body crumbled to ash, leaving behind a faintly glowing dagger.

    Saria''s smile widened. This was the ally she had chosen to aid her in the deathmatch. She leaned forward slightly, her ruby-red eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

    The girl wiped the blood off her axe. She then walked to the pile of ash, retrieving the magic dagger left behind, and approached the throne. ¡°I present this magic artifact to you, Lady Saria,¡± she said, handing the dagger to Saria.

    Saria accepted the weapon with a nod, studying the girl before her. Her true identity was Aveline Stormrend, daughter of Duke Garrick Stormrend and the Saintess of the Heralds of the Skyfather. Aveline was no ordinary priestess; she was a force to be reckoned with, one of the most formidable individuals she could find under level 20.

    Saria believed that other candidates likely worked alone. She was different from them. Collaborating was the key to success. Thus, Saria had sought out a partner to aid her. After all, there were no rules against alliances, provided their strength remained within the bounds of the deathmatch¡¯s restrictions.

    Saria glanced at the ash-strewn ground and back at Aveline. With the Saintess by her side, her victory felt inevitable.

    Aveline broke the silence. ¡°Don¡¯t forget our agreement, Saria.¡±

    Saria chuckled softly, twirling the dagger in her hand. ¡°Naturally. I¡¯ll help your faction sneak spies into our cult. That was the wish of the Heralds, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    Aveline shook her head slightly. ¡°That¡¯s the Heralds¡¯ wish, not mine. I have a different goal.¡±

    Saria raised an eyebrow but then laughed knowingly. ¡°Of course, how could I forget? You wish to guide the cult¡¯s members onto the right path. Truly noble of you, Aveline. Rest assured, our goals are aligned. I also seek to reform the cult, to bring it out of the shadows and onto the surface world. Together, we¡¯ll achieve what neither of us could alone.¡±

    Suddenly, Saria and Aveline shivered as a chill ran down their spines. An aura, oppressive and sharp, swept through the air like a cold wind. Both of them froze for a moment, their senses heightened. The source was unmistakable¡ªit emanated from the heart of the town.

    Saria¡¯s breath caught as recognition struck her. This aura signature wasn¡¯t unfamiliar; she had felt it once before. It belonged to none other than Eryndor, the enigmatic candidate whose presence had always felt like a looming shadow.

    She turned to Aveline. "Stay here. I need to see what¡¯s going on." Without waiting for a response, Saria stepped outside, her eyes scanning the town streets as she moved toward the source of the disturbance.

    ---

    Kaelion drove his blade into the demon¡¯s back, the weapon piercing through with a clean motion. The creature let out a cry before its form crumbled into ash, scattering into the air like a fading shadow. Left behind was a spear, its dark metal gleaming ominously. Kaelion picked it up, turning to Valen, who stood near the window, watching the scene unfold.

    Kaelion approached and extended the spear to Valen. "Here," he said.

    Valen took the weapon, his grip firm. "I¡¯m sorry that you had to take down my own demon too."

    Kaelion bowed his head slightly. "It¡¯s fine. I naturally have to serve you with all my soul after what you¡¯ve done for my family."

    Valen nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his face. "After this deathmatch is over, I promise that your family will be bathed in glory for as long as I live."

    Kaelion allowed a small smile to surface. "Then that means you¡¯ll have to bathe yourself in the grandest glory, Master. For me, you are family."

    Valen was caught off guard but chuckled suddenly. "Thank you," he said.

    He opened his mouth to speak again, but both of them froze as a surge of overwhelming energy washed over them. The air around them grew heavy, tinged with a foreboding power.

    Valen¡¯s expression darkened. "This aura¡­ it¡¯s Eryndor¡¯s," he said.

    Kaelion straightened, his hand instinctively gripping the hilt of his dagger. "I¡¯ll check what¡¯s going on," he said.

    Valen nodded, his eyes hardening. "I will go after you."

 Chapter 9: Collecting Catalysts

    In the heart of the bustling town square, Eryndor''s sword clashed against the massive blade of a towering demon, sparks flying with every strike. The demon stood twice his size, exuding an aura that sent shivers through the crowd of onlookers. Townsfolk huddled together, some whispering prayers, others frozen in terror as the battle unfolded before their eyes.

    The demon sneered. "Summoning me here, of all places, mortal? You¡¯re either brave or stupid. Do you not realize? Here, I can feast on human souls with ease."

    Eryndor¡¯s expression remained calm, his grip on his blade unshaken. "If seeking thrill is foolishness, then let me be called a fool." With a surge of strength, he pushed the demon back, sending it crashing through the wall of a nearby house. Bricks and dust exploded outward, and the demon roared in frustration.

    A young boy stumbled and fell near the wreckage, his small frame trembling with fear. The demon''s eyes gleamed with hunger as its elongated tongue slithered out to lick its lips. It reached out a clawed hand toward the child.

    Before the demon could grab him, a sharp slash cut through the air, severing the demon¡¯s arm in one clean stroke. The creature howled in agony, clutching the stump of its limb as dark, viscous blood spilled onto the ground.

    Eryndor lowered his sword. "I knew you¡¯d try to feast on them. That¡¯s exactly why I summoned you here¡ªto stop you. I¡¯ll do everything in my power to ensure you harm no one. That''s the thrill I am seeking."

    The demon snarled, its face twisted in fury. "You¡¯ll pay for that, mortal!" It bellowed an incantation. "[Maleficarum Umbra Forma]!" The severed arm on the ground convulsed, expanding grotesquely. Its skin split, and from the palm of its hand, a monstrous mouth erupted, lined with jagged teeth. The fingers lengthened into writhing, snake-like appendages, forming a nightmarish creature.

    The crowd screamed, but Eryndor stood firm. He spared no glance for the abomination, his focus momentarily drawn to the figures approaching from the edge of the square. Valen, Kaelion, Saria, and Lyssa emerged from the shadows.

    Eryndor¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile. "So, you¡¯ve come, fellow candidates. Good. Watch closely." His eyes narrowed as he turned back to the demon. "Let me introduce what kind of person I am through this battle."

    He closed his eyes briefly, and when they reopened, the whites of his eyes had turned black, the irises a deeper, burning red.

    The demon recoiled in shock. "Those eyes... No! That¡¯s the Corlust Eyes!"

    Eryndor said nothing. In a flash, he charged toward the monstrous hand. The beast lashed out, its fingers elongating and striking like serpents, but Eryndor dodged each one with precision. It was as though he could see their trajectory before they even moved.

    As he closed the distance, Eryndor swung his sword upward with a devastating force. The blade tore through the creature, splitting it cleanly in two. The severed halves collapsed, disintegrating into ash that scattered in the wind.

    The square fell silent save for the whispers of the wind carrying away the remains of the monster. The citizens stared in awe, and Eryndor stood tall, his demonic eyes still glowing, as he turned his gaze back to the demon. "Now, are you saying that I am worthless?"

    The demon snarled, clutching its severed arm with a twisted grin. "You think you''ve won?" it growled, its eyes burning with malice. Raising its severed limb, it jammed the hilt of its massive sword into the stump, the blade''s dark energy pulsing as if alive.

    With a roar, it began an incantation, "Carnifex Corpus Meldra!"

    The air around the demon warped as its body convulsed and expanded. Muscle fibers erupted from its arm, writhing like living vines, wrapping around the sword. The blade fused with the flesh, transforming into a grotesque limb¡ªa jagged, bladed extension of its own body. The demon flexed its new weaponized arm, its grin stretching unnaturally wide.

    "This ends now," it hissed, its voice echoing with unearthly resonance. "One strike is all it will take to obliterate you."

    Eryndor remained unfazed, his expression calm and composed. His sword hummed with latent power as he held it at his side. "If that¡¯s what you want," he said evenly, his tone almost casual, "then I will kindly respond."

    In an instant, an immense aura burst forth from Eryndor, enveloping him in a radiant yet oppressive energy. The air vibrated with his power, causing the ground beneath him to crack. Channeling the energy into his sword, it glowed with an otherworldly brilliance, its edge sharp enough to cut the very air.

    The demon vanished, reappearing in a blur directly in front of Eryndor, its bladed arm descending like a guillotine. The sheer force of the attack split the earth beneath them, a chasm ripping through the square as dust and debris shot skyward.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    But Eryndor was already moving. He sidestepped with effortless precision, his movements so fluid it seemed he had foreseen the strike before it happened. The demon''s attack missed by a hair, the ground quaking from the impact.

    Before the demon could recover, Eryndor swung his sword upward in a single, decisive motion. The blade emitted a brilliant beam of light, the energy carving a path straight into the heavens.

    The demon''s form froze for a moment, its expression contorting in disbelief. Then, without a sound, its body disintegrated into nothingness, leaving behind only its sword embedded in the ground, its once-mighty aura now silent.

    Eryndor stood tall amidst the swirling dust, his crimson eyes slowly fading back to their natural color. The onlookers stared in silence, their breath caught in their throats.

    Lowering his sword, Eryndor turned his gaze toward the other candidates. "And so, that''s the kind of person I am. Let''s enjoy this ritual to our fullest."

    The clatter of boots on cobblestone echoed through the town square as a contingent of guards stormed onto the scene. At their head, a stern-faced captain barked an order. "Drop your weapon! You are under arrest!"

    Eryndor turned toward them, his sword still resting by his side. His expression remained calm, almost amused, as the guards raised their spears and swords in unison.

    Before Eryndor could respond, a murmur rose from the gathered crowd. Then, one by one, voices began to shout.

    "Are you blind? He saved us!"

    "That man defeated the demon! You should be thanking him, not arresting him!"

    "Without him, we¡¯d all be dead!"

    The guards exchanged uncertain glances, their aggressive posture faltering as the citizens stepped forward, their voices growing louder in unison.

    Eryndor¡¯s lips curved into a small smile. "Are you sure about this? The people have spoken, and it seems they disagree with your judgment."

    The captain hesitated, gripping his sword tightly. He glanced at the crowd, then back at Eryndor, his resolve wavering.

    Eryndor took a step forward, lowering his sword. "If you wish to arrest me, then do so, but I wonder... how will you justify this to those I just saved?"

    The guards lowered their weapons slightly, their captain frowning deeply. Before he could decide, Eryndor turned away, sheathing his blade. "It seems your hesitation has made the choice for you."

    He began to walk past them, his voice carrying over his shoulder. "And as it happens, someone else is summoning me. So, if you''ll excuse me..."

    Without waiting for a response, Eryndor strode confidently through the crowd. The citizens parted for him, their eyes filled with admiration and gratitude, as the guards stood frozen, uncertain and powerless.

    ---

    Vareth Valtheran¡¯s body trembled uncontrollably as if a weight beyond comprehension pressed down on him. A pressure forced to his knees, his head bowed low before the two figures seated leisurely on ornate thrones at the far end of the chamber. The old man, Darius Vex, radiated an aura of dominance that chilled the air itself, while the young woman beside him, Alice Azael, exuded a beauty as serene as it was terrifying. Both were members of the Cult, their presence suffocating even without a word.

    Darius leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on Vareth. "You have no issue with the Cult''s decision, do you?"

    Vareth¡¯s head snapped up slightly, his voice trembling but quick. "Of course not, Lord Vex. I am honored to serve."

    Darius¡¯s thin lips curved into a faint smile. "As you should be. In exchange for your compliance, we have pardoned your father¡¯s crime of losing an Infernal Codex. You should be grateful."

    Vareth lowered his head further, his voice cracking. "This lowly servant is truly grateful, Lord Vex."

    Darius¡¯s attention shifted away, as if Vareth had ceased to exist. His cold eyes moved to Alice, who had been quietly observing the scene. "The candidates are coming," Darius remarked, his tone indifferent.

    As if on cue, the heavy doors of the chamber swung open, and five figures entered: Eryndor Drexar, Kaelion Vorth, Lyssa, Saria Kaelthara, and Valen Valehn. Their footsteps echoed in the vast hall as they approached, stopping several paces away from the thrones.

    Darius¡¯s gaze swept over them. He let the silence stretch, the weight of his aura pressing down on the room. Finally, his voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Kneel."

    The word carried an almost tangible force, striking the candidates with an overwhelming pressure that forced them to their knees without resistance.

    Darius regarded them indifferently. "I am Darius Vex, the Observer of this deathmatch. My task is to ensure that everything proceeds as decreed by the Cult."

    The five candidates, still kneeling, spoke in unison. "We greet the Lord Observer."

    Darius¡¯s eyes flicked over them once more, a faint smile playing on his lips as the weight of his presence filled the hall.

    Darius rose from his seat. His piercing gaze swept over the candidates kneeling before him. "The deadline for defeating the demons is over. Now, present to me the magic artifacts the demons have dropped."

    Eryndor was the first to step forward. He held out a gleaming sword with intricate runes etched along the blade. Darius accepted it without a word, his attention already shifting.

    Lyssa approached next, clutching an old, weathered book that pulsed faintly with residual magic. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed it over, avoiding Darius''s piercing gaze.

    Kaelion followed, presenting a dagger, this one with a crimson hue as if soaked in blood. His demeanor was casual.

    Saria stepped forward confidently, her dagger identical to Kaelion''s, its edge gleaming ominously. She bowed her head slightly as she placed it in Darius¡¯s hand.

    Finally, Valen stepped forward, gripping a spear with a dark, jagged tip. The weapon radiated a faint aura of malice, and he hesitated briefly before relinquishing it.

    Darius examined the artifacts, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assessed their power. Finally, he nodded, satisfied. "All catalysts have been collected."

    Saria, unable to suppress her curiosity, raised her hand. "Excuse me, my lord. We are lacking one person here. Does that mean Arayn has failed?"

    Before Darius could respond, a chilling laughter echoed through the chamber. The candidates turned in unison toward the source, their eyes widening as a figure emerged from the adjacent room.

    Arayn stepped forward. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, a sly grin playing on his lips. He stopped beside the group, his gaze settling on Saria with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

    "You are funny, Worm. I¡¯ve been here first."

    Saria¡¯s expression twisted in irritation, but she remained silent under Darius¡¯s watchful eye.

 Chapter 10: The Deathmatch Begins

    Saria clenched her fists, her lips parting as she prepared to unleash a scathing remark, but she stopped herself. Her eyes narrowed, her body trembling with restrained anger.

    Arayn noticed her hesitation and chuckled. "Oh, it seems you still remember the humiliation you¡¯ve suffered," he drawled, his tone mocking. "I commend you for that, worm."

    Saria¡¯s jaw tightened, her teeth grinding audibly. She glared at him, her mind seething with thoughts of vengeance. "I swear, one day, I¡¯ll kill you," she muttered.

    Arayn paid her no further attention, instead turning his gaze toward Lyssa. "Seems like you did it, little one. Good job. You need to entertain me further."

    Lyssa froze, her eyes widening as Arayn addressed her. She trembled, her voice caught in her throat, unable to respond.

    Arayn tilted his head. "Oh, that reaction. I see. You didn¡¯t overcome the demon by yourself, did you? You cannot do that, little one. Tell me, how are you supposed to be worthy of my sister if you don¡¯t grow stronger?"

    The color drained from Lyssa¡¯s face as his words sank in. Her lips parted in shock, but no sound came out.

    Arayn¡¯s laughter echoed through the hall, his amusement only growing. "Ah, priceless," he said. "I¡¯d love to spend more time chatting with my little circus performers, as a reward I should have offered... but alas, I want this night to pass quickly." His eyes gleamed as he looked at her and then at Eryndor. "Don¡¯t worry, Lyssa, Eryndor. I¡¯ll reward you both with my time later. Do your best to entertain me until then."

    He cast a disdainful glance at the others. "And for the rest of you worms. Do your best to perform well. Who knows? Perhaps your status will rise from worms to clowns."

    With a dismissive wave of his hand, Arayn turned to Darius Vex. "Now, Observer, you are excused to perform the ritual."

    "Before the deathmatch begins, let me lay down the rules," Darius said. "First, the Manor of Valtheran is hereby declared a neutral zone. No fighting between candidates is permitted here under any circumstances. Candidates may only spend one hour in this place per day. Violators will face immediate punishment."

    He paused, his eyes narrowing as he emphasized each word. "Second, there will be a contribution system in place. You can harvest the souls of others to earn contribution points. One soul equals one point. These points can be spent within the manor to acquire valuable resources, such as potions, magic scrolls, or even a demon familiar to serve you."

    "Third," he continued, "harvesting the soul of someone from an orthodox organization will grant you two points instead of one. Fourth, killing another candidate will reward you with one hundred contribution points. However, be aware¡ªthis comes with significant risk."

    His gaze hardened. "Fifth, a candidate will only be considered eliminated after I personally declare their death. Until that moment, they remain in this competition. Sixth, and finally, candidates are allowed to enlist helpers. However, these helpers must be below expert class. Anyone caught breaking this rule will be punished by death without exception."

    "Those are the rules," he concluded. "I will entertain no questions. Now, I will proceed with the class summoning ritual."

    Darius turned his back to the candidates, his dark cloak sweeping the floor as he moved toward the center of the hall. He laid the five catalysts¡ªthe daggers, the book, the spear, and the sword¡ªon the altar before him. Extending his hands, he began to chant.

    "By the ancient covenant forged in shadows, by the power bound within these artifacts, I summon the essence of chaos to bind and obey. Fragmenta in liquorem mutentur, circulus magicae formetur!"

    The catalysts began to glow, their shapes dissolving into streams of shimmering liquid that coalesced into a luminous magic circle on the ground. The intricate sigils and runes pulsed with malevolent energy.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    From within his robes, Darius produced a primordial crystal, its surface swirling with trapped starlight and unfathomable darkness. He placed it in the center of the magic circle, and the room seemed to tremble as if bowing to the artifact''s power.

    "Awaken, power of the void! Gate of eternity, answer my call! By the authority granted to me, I summon thee¡ªHeavenly Demon Class! Surgite et parete!"

    The magic circle surged with light, the liquid energy spiraling upward as it was absorbed into the crystal. The crystal began to glow brighter, hovering above the altar as if imbued with sentience.

    Darius waved his hand, conjuring a sphere of black energy around the crystal to protect it. He turned to face the candidates once more.

    "With this," he declared, his voice echoing through the hall, "I officially announce the start of the deathmatch. At dawn, you may challenge your rivals. Remember the rules, and tread carefully¡ªyour next moves may decide your fate."

    His gaze swept over them, lingering on each candidate. "You are all excused."

    Without another word, Darius stepped back, the ominous energy still lingering in the air as the candidates began to file out, each one preparing for the battle to come.

    ---

    Saria returned to her mansion on the outskirts of the town, her expression composed but her mind racing with thoughts of the unfolding deathmatch. Inside, Aveline awaited her, seated gracefully in the hall.

    "Who caused the ruckus in town?" Aveline asked.

    Saria sighed, removing her cloak. "The most troublesome candidate, Eryndor Drexar. His theatrics are unmatched. Honestly, I think only you could hold your own against him."

    Aveline nodded slightly. "Alright. Should we make a move on him?"

    Saria shook her head. "No. He''s a distraction we don''t need right now. We should focus on the easiest target first."

    Aveline tilted her head. "And who would that be?"

    Meanwhile, in a modest room at an inn across town, Valen and Kaelion discussed their next steps. Kaelion leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "I didn¡¯t expect the manor to be declared a neutral zone. It changes things."

    Valen, sharpening his spear at the table, dismissed the thought. "The manor isn''t important. What matters is eliminating a candidate. The sooner we remove one, the better."

    Kaelion glanced at him, intrigued. "And who do you suggest we target first?"

    At the same time, in her mansion, Saria answered Aveline''s question with a cold expression.

    "Arayn. He''s the easiest target."

    In the inn, Valen''s voice mirrored her resolve.

    "Arayn. He¡¯s the easiest target."

    ---

    In a secluded valley nestled deep within the forest, Lyssa hurried into her hidden refuge. Thalric waited, his imposing form leaning casually against a tree.

    Lyssa hesitated as she approached, nervously clasping her hands. "I¡¯m so sorry for making you wait."

    Thalric chuckled. "No need to apologize, Master. The forest feels like home to me. Besides, patience comes naturally to a hunter."

    Lyssa relaxed slightly at his words, but her unease lingered.

    Thalric straightened, his tone growing curious. "That aura earlier¡ªit was powerful. Who was it from?"

    Lyssa glanced down, fiddling with her fingers. "It was from a candidate named Eryndor."

    Thalric grinned, his teeth gleaming. "Eryndor, huh? Sounds like a worthy opponent. I¡¯d love to face him."

    Lyssa¡¯s eyes widened, and she quickly interjected. "Thalric, could you... take care of another candidate first?"

    He raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Someone troubling you?"

    Lyssa nodded. "Yes. Arayn. I want him gone."

    Thalric¡¯s grin faded, replaced by a serious look. He nodded once. "Consider it done."

    Meanwhile, atop a clocktower overlooking the quiet town, Eryndor leaned against the stone railing, a bottle of alcohol in hand. The moonlight illuminated his features as he took a long sip, the cool night air rustling his hair.

    He stared out into the distance. "Arayn... I wonder how strong he really is."

    Eryndor smirked, his grip tightening around the bottle. "I think I¡¯ll challenge him tomorrow. I can¡¯t wait."

    ---

    The sun had barely risen over the horizon when Arayn strolled out of the town gates. The guards stationed nearby watched him with barely concealed resentment, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. Arayn didn¡¯t need to glance their way to feel the hatred radiating from them.

    He smirked. Of course, they were frustrated¡ªthey despised him for walking free, untouchable despite their authority. He relished their powerlessness but didn¡¯t bother to spare them more than a fleeting thought.

    As Arayn took another step, his eyes caught sight of a figure blocking his path. It was Vareth.

    "Are you the one who killed my father?" Vareth asked, his hatred barely restrained.

    Arayn stopped, tilting his head slightly as if pondering the question. His crimson gaze bore into Vareth. "I don¡¯t have an obligation to reward a worm with my knowledge," he said with an air of disinterest. "Move aside."

    Vareth hesitated but eventually stepped aside, his jaw clenched, his fists trembling. "I swear, I will kill you."

    Arayn paused mid-step, turning his head just enough to glance at Vareth over his shoulder. A mocking grin spread across his face. "You can try, worm. Entertain me, and perhaps you¡¯ll rise to the status of a clown."

    Without waiting for a reply, Arayn continued down the road, his dark cloak billowing behind him, leaving Vareth standing in the dust, seething.

 Chapter 11: Ambush

    In the study room of the Valtheran manor, Darius stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

    "Uncle," Alice¡¯s voice broke the silence, "is something wrong?"

    Darius didn¡¯t respond immediately. "I was wondering," he said at last, "if Arayn will be all right. He¡¯s made enemies of the other candidates."

    Alice, sitting comfortably on the plush velvet chair nearby, gave a faint smirk. "He¡¯s arrogant, yes," she admitted, "but he¡¯s also smart. He knows what he¡¯s doing."

    She leaned back, folding her arms thoughtfully. "Do you remember when the cult held that contest? The one to see who could learn and master a difficult ability the quickest?"

    Darius turned slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "How could I forget?" he replied. "That¡¯s when he won... and used the chance to ask the Sovereign to adopt him."

    Alice laughed, the sound ringing lightly through the room. "And later, he told me the real reason why. He didn¡¯t join our family for loyalty or prestige. He only wanted a chance to be rude to his father¡ªbecause a father might scold a son for disrespect, but he wouldn¡¯t punish him with death." She shook her head, amusement shining in her eyes. "Truly, Arayn is a shrewd guy."

    Darius raised a brow, his gaze softening. "You seem to care for him a great deal."

    Alice¡¯s cheeks flushed, and she turned away, her voice quick and defensive. "O-of course I do! He¡¯s my little brother, after all."

    Darius chuckled at her response. "Then let¡¯s hope everything goes according to his plan," he said.

    ---

    As Arayn made his way toward the forest, the sound of splintering wood and muffled voices reached his ears. Up ahead, he spotted a group of cult members surrounding the shattered remains of a carriage. Its wheels lay broken, its contents scattered across the dirt path like discarded refuse.

    Walking past the scene, Arayn barely spared it a glance¡ªuntil two of the cultists noticed him. They stiffened, then quickly bowed. "Lord Arayn Azael," one of them greeted, "we didn¡¯t expect to see you here."

    Arayn paused, turning his sharp gaze on them. "What happened here?"

    The first cultist gestured to the wreckage with a gloved hand. "This carriage belonged to a spy from the Varondale Kingdom," he explained. "We¡¯ve been tasked with ensuring no news of what is happening in Duskwatch Town escapes beyond these borders."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable as he studied their faces. After a moment, his tone turned casual, almost teasing. "You seem to be enjoying yourselves."

    The second cultist scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Well... it¡¯s our first time outside the cult," he admitted, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and nerves. "We¡¯re just glad to finally be useful."

    Arayn held their gaze, searching for any trace of deceit, but found none. Their sincerity was evident, shining through their words like unpolished gems. A faint smile curved his lips.

    "You are worthy," he said. "Keep up the good work."

    The two cultists straightened, their faces lighting up with pride as they saluted him. "Yes, Lord Arayn!" they chorused, their voices ringing with fervor.

    With a final glance at the wreckage, Arayn resumed his journey, the faint rustle of leaves and distant cries of the forest accompanying his steps.

    The forest stretched endlessly before Arayn. He crouched low, twin [Cursed Fang] blades glinting faintly in his hands with the Bloodthorn Beasts circling him.

    A blur of crimson burst from the brush¡ªthorn-covered hide gleaming like armor. Arayn sidestepped just as its claws raked the space he had occupied. Pivoting sharply, he drove a fang into its exposed flank, the cursed weapon sinking deep before he ripped it free.

    Another beast unleashed a deadly volley of bristles. Arayn dived behind the nearest tree, the projectiles embedding themselves in the bark. He pressed his back to the trunk, eyes scanning for an opening.

    The creatures prowled closer, as if sensing his retreat. Arayn bolted, weaving between the trees until he reached a small clearing. The beasts followed, their snarls echoing as they emerged into the open.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    He stopped abruptly, planting his feet. The Bloodthorn Beasts hesitated, their thorny hides bristling with menace. Then they surged forward together. Arayn hurled one of his fangs into their midst, the blade spinning through the air before embedding itself into the ground. A flash of energy erupted, scattering the beasts like ragdolls.

    When the dust settled, two remained. One charged, its claws raised high. Arayn ducked under the swipe and plunged his remaining fang into its chest, twisting viciously. With a grunt, he swung the lifeless body into the path of the last beast, momentarily staggering it.

    Taking his chance, Arayn stepped back and hurled the second fang. The blade pierced the creature¡¯s eye. It dropped instantly, collapsing into the blood-soaked dirt.

    [Dexterity increased by 1.]

    Arayn allowed himself a small smirk, wiping the sweat from his brow as he reached into his pouch and pulled out a rolled scroll. He unfurled it, revealing intricate runes etched in dark ink across its surface. The Soul Gathering Scroll.

    The air around him shifted, growing heavier, almost electric. A faint shimmer rose from the lifeless bodies of the Bloodthorn Beasts, their forms trembling as faint wisps of light began to emerge. The beasts¡¯ souls.

    The glowing wisps floated upward, circling lazily before they were drawn to the scroll like moths to a flame. The runes pulsed faintly as each soul entered the parchment, disappearing into its depths.

    Arayn watched the process with detached interest, his gaze flicking from the empty husks of the beasts to the now-glowing symbols on the scroll. This was the item granted to every cult member¡ªa tool to harvest the remnants of the fallen.

    Once the last soul vanished into the scroll, he rolled it up and tucked it away. His hunt was far from over. He needed to gather more souls to purchase items he had been eyeing since the start of the deathmatch.

    But his focus was interrupted. A sudden rustle from the bushes drew his attention, followed by a blur of motion. Arayn twisted just in time to avoid a swipe from sharp claws.

    Standing before him was a towering man with unkempt hair and eyes that gleamed with a feral light. His lips curled into a grin that revealed elongated canines.

    Arayn took a step back and asked, "You dare to ambush me, Worm?"

    The man¡¯s grin widened. "Sorry about that. I was just testing you. The name is Thalric of the Silverfang Clan. Prepare yourself, Arayn Azael."

    Arayn tilted his head slightly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "A werewolf? Ah, I see." His voice lowered, laced with subtle mockery. "So, you¡¯re helping one of the candidates, then."

    Thalric chuckled. "Who knows?" he said, his words as ambiguous as his grin.

    Without warning, Thalric lunged forward again, his clawed hands slashing through the air. Arayn barely managed to sidestep the attack. The force of the swipe tore into a nearby tree, leaving deep gashes in its bark.

    Thalric swiped his claws through the air, unleashing slash beams that cut toward Arayn. As the beams expanded, their reach widened to block any chance of a sidestep. Arayn, unfazed, activated [Demonic Step], propelling himself backward.

    The slash beams twisted midair, relentlessly pursuing him. Arayn¡¯s sharp eyes caught the growing gaps between them, and he shifted his weight. With a leap, he darted between the openings, narrowly escaping.

    Thalric narrowed his eyes, observing him closely. "It¡¯s not just speed. "What¡¯s this? Your movements¡ªthey¡¯re agile, flexible. That¡¯s not the grace of someone with low dexterity stat."

    Arayn stayed silent. In one fluid motion, he hurled three fangs at Thalric. The man crouched low, dodging the projectiles with ease.

    A faint smile tugged at Arayn¡¯s lips as he murmured in the ancient demon tongue, "Kharz''othan, syrr vosh ul¡¯tar."

    The fangs, as if obeying his command, twisted mid-flight and veered back toward Thalric. Before they could strike, a burst of purple beams shot out of nowhere, colliding with the fangs and detonating them in a fiery explosion.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze snapped toward the source of the interruption. "Which worm dares to interrupt our duel?"

    A woman¡¯s laughter echoed through the trees, sharp and mocking. From behind a thick trunk stepped Saria Kaelthara.

    Arayn turned his gaze toward her, then flicked his eyes to Thalric. The slight tension in their postures told him enough¡ªthey didn¡¯t know each other.

    A faint smirk curled on Arayn¡¯s lips. "I see now whose master you serve, Mutt. Eryndor wouldn¡¯t stoop to this. No, the way my senses dulled here¡ªit¡¯s clear. Your master is Lyssa. So tell me, Lyssa, where are you hiding?"

    The air warped unnaturally as a figure stepped forward. Lyssa emerged, her expression uneasy as she approached Thalric.

    The werewolf shook his head, a faint growl rumbling in his throat. "You should¡¯ve stayed hidden, Master."

    Saria chuckled softly, folding her arms as her eyes glinted with amusement. "Lyssa," she drawled, "it seems we¡¯re after the same target. How about we join forces, as fellow girls, to eliminate him first? Wouldn¡¯t that be efficient?"

    Thalric glanced at Lyssa and nodded. "It¡¯s not a bad suggestion," he said flatly.

    Lyssa hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under Arayn¡¯s piercing gaze. Finally, she gave a shaky nod. "Fine."

    Arayn¡¯s laughter rang out. "Typical, but knowing you... I knew you wouldn¡¯t dare face me alone. So, where¡¯s your mercenary, worm?"

    Saria tilted her head. "I¡¯ve no idea what you mean," she replied, her voice honeyed with false innocence. "But let¡¯s be real. You have made enemies of other candidates. Besides," she added with a sly grin, "you¡¯re misunderstanding something important. You¡¯re no longer in your prime, Azael. Oh yes, I know. The final fight in the Pit took its toll, didn¡¯t it? You¡¯ve lost a hefty chunk of your dexterity stat since then."

    She leaned forward, her tone taunting. "I could take you down on my own, but¡­ why take the risk? Teaming up to crush you sounds like a much safer bet."

    With a sudden rustle of leaves, Kaelion leaped from a high branch and landed before Thalric. His sharp eyes swept over the group, lingering briefly on Lyssa and Saria before his lips curled into a smirk. "Hold on, can I join this little temporary alliance?"

    Saria¡¯s grin widened. "With pleasure," she replied.

    Thalric rose to his full height, rolling his shoulders and stretching his limbs as if preparing for a long battle. His gaze locked onto Arayn. "So, Big Deal Arayn, will you run, now that it¡¯s four against one?"

 Chapter 12: Eryndor

    Arayn¡¯s eyes burned with fury as he spat, "You impudent fools! You dare to challenge me without proving your worth first? Laughable."

    Saria let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, spare me, Arayn. If anyone should prove themselves, it¡¯s you. Or are you speaking out of fear now?"

    "Perhaps you¡¯ve forgotten, Saria. Numbers have never been an issue for me."

    Saria arched an eyebrow, her smirk unwavering. "And perhaps you¡¯ve forgotten, everyone here can handle multiple opponents. Don¡¯t think you¡¯re facing mere low-level pawns. Let¡¯s see how you fare." She raised her wand. "Attack."

    Thalric wasted no time, slashing through the air to unleash arcs of clawed energy aimed straight at Arayn. Kaelion followed; he hurled a volley of knives. Saria¡¯s wand flared, sending a beam of brilliant magic streaking toward him.

    Arayn¡¯s aura erupted, ready to move, but before he could act, a massive slash erupted from nowhere, a wave of energy so immense it obliterated the incoming attacks in a flash of destructive brilliance.

    Out of the trees stepped Eryndor, his long sword resting on his shoulder as he surveyed the scene. "Four against one? That¡¯s hardly exciting," he said. His eyes flicked to Arayn. "How about I even the odds and join you, Arayn?"

    Arayn¡¯s jaw tightened as he glared at the newcomer. "Your help is unnecessary."

    Eryndor chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, rejected. No matter. I don¡¯t need consent to fight for justice. So, Miss Kaelthara, Miss Morgaine, Mister Vorth¡ª" his tone grew sharp, almost taunting¡ª "if you still wish to attack him together, I will stand with him. Now then, shall we continue?"

    The air grew tense, the forest holding its breath as the unspoken challenge lingered.

    Thalric grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. " Are you Eryndor, huh? Good timing. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down. Let¡¯s fight."

    Before he could make a move, Lyssa grabbed his hand, her voice trembling. "Please, Thalric, let''s leave for now."

    Thalric blinked, surprised. "Are you joking? This is the perfect chance to get rid of your rivals." But as he turned to her, he noticed the way her hands trembled, her face pale with anxiety. He let out a frustrated sigh. "Fine, we¡¯ll leave."

    Kaelion, standing silently nearby, turned invisible in an instant, his presence vanishing like a ghost. Only Saria remained, glaring at the scene unfolding before her. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Lucky, Arayn. Very lucky. We could''ve killed you today."

    Arayn smirked. "Come back when you¡¯re actually worthy of challenging me, Worm."

    Saria¡¯s eyes narrowed, but she didn¡¯t respond. With a flick of her wand, she turned and disappeared into thin air, leaving Arayn and Eryndor standing alone.

    Eryndor tilted his head, his expression curious. "So, am I worthy?"

    Arayn turned away, his tone dismissive. "Work hard to be worthy."

    Undeterred, Eryndor followed after him. "Then I still have a chance to prove myself worthy."

    Arayn stopped and shot him a cold glance. "Who said you could follow me? Scram."

    Eryndor held his ground, a grin playing at his lips. "Don¡¯t be so quick to chase me off. You told me yesterday to entertain you, didn¡¯t you? I¡¯m here to do just that."

    Arayn raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? You have an interesting way of thinking. So tell me, how exactly do you plan to entertain me?"

    "By showing you my strength. Maybe that¡¯ll amuse you."

    Arayn scoffed, a mocking smile curling his lips. "A fool¡¯s answer. I already know how strong you are. I want you to express more than that."

    Eryndor hesitated, his brows furrowing. "Then I¡¯ve got nothing else. My power and abilities are all I have to offer."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened. "You still don¡¯t understand yourself, do you? Fine. As a token of appreciation for your effort, I¡¯ll help you realize it. Follow me."

    Eryndor nodded, a flicker of determination crossing his face as he trailed behind Arayn into the depths of the forest.

    ---If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    In a quieter corner of the forest, Aveline sat beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient tree. Around her lay the mangled remains of beasts, their lifeless bodies staining the forest floor. Her expression was calm, her emerald eyes fixed on the distance as though lost in thought.

    The sound of footsteps broke the silence, and Saria emerged from the shadows, her wand twirling idly in her hand. She paused briefly, her gaze sweeping over the carnage. "You haven¡¯t harvested their souls."

    "I¡¯ve tolerated you harvesting monster souls for your schemes. Don¡¯t start ordering me to do unorthodox things like that. We¡¯re equals, Saria."

    Saria chuckled. "Of course. Equals."

    "How did the ambush go?"

    Saria¡¯s smirk faded slightly, her voice turning sour. "It failed. Eryndor decided to play hero and came to Arayn¡¯s rescue."

    Aveline frowned, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee. "Why didn¡¯t you call me? Wasn''t handling him my purpose?"

    Saria waved off the question with a dismissive flick of her wrist. "You¡¯re my trump card, Aveline. Revealing you now would be a waste. Besides," she added, a sly grin returning to her face, "this was just a warm-up. We¡¯ll have plenty of opportunities to corner Arayn again. I¡¯ve placed a familiar to follow him. Wherever he goes, I¡¯ll know. Next time, we¡¯ll strike when he least expects it."

    ---

    Arayn and Eryndor moved through the dense forest, their steps crunching softly against the fallen leaves. The towering trees around them cast long shadows as the sunlight waned, but the silence between them was thick with unspoken thoughts.

    Eryndor glanced at Arayn, his curiosity finally spilling over. "You know, I¡¯m surprised. I expected you to be more¡­ ruthless. Killing townsfolk to harvest their souls, for example."

    Arayn didn¡¯t break his stride, his tone as calm as ever. "There are two types of worms, Eryndor. The first is the impudent worm¡ªarrogant, disrespectful, challenging my place. I love to punish them." His lips curved into a faint smirk before he continued, "The second is the irrelevant worm. Their existence is meaningless. They breathe, eat, and sleep, but contribute nothing. They exist for the sake of existing. Those worms can¡¯t offer me any entertainment. So, I ignore them."

    Eryndor nodded slowly, mulling over the words. "I see." After a moment, he tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting. "By the way, do you realize a familiar has been following you?"

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed for a moment, but his voice carried no surprise. "I¡¯m aware. This time, my senses are sharp."

    Eryndor grinned, already flexing his fingers as though readying for a fight. "Want me to take care of it?"

    Arayn shook his head dismissively. "Leave it. Let the worm watch. I don¡¯t mind if someone wishes to learn¡­ or to change their worthless existence. Even a worm can aspire to become something more."

    Eryndor chuckled at the cryptic response, but Arayn¡¯s expression remained unchanged as they continued forward.

    Arayn and Eryndor arrived at the mouth of a cave nestled deep within the forest. The air around the entrance was heavy with the scent of decay, and faint scratching sounds echoed from within.

    Eryndor glanced at the dark opening, his curiosity evident. "This cave¡­ What is it?"

    Arayn replied, "The nest of a mother-class Bloodthorn Beast."

    Eryndor raised an eyebrow, impressed. "You sure know a lot about this area."

    Arayn turned his head slightly. "You''re a fool if you think information isn¡¯t crucial. Without knowledge, you''re nothing but a blind worm fumbling in the dark."

    Eryndor chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fair enough. Lesson learned."

    "As you should," Arayn said coldly. "Your enemies study you, learning your strengths and weaknesses. Yet here you stand, ignorant of them. That makes you a fool."

    Eryndor laughed openly, though his tone held a note of self-awareness. "It stings, but you¡¯re not wrong."

    For the first time, Arayn allowed himself a faint smile. "But you¡¯re different. You want to learn, and I admire that. Never be afraid to express yourself, but ensure you stand at least equal with others in every way before you do so."

    Eryndor nodded. "I see. It seems everyone¡¯s been wrong about you. You are so full of wisdom. I¡¯m glad I decided to follow you. As they say, you can¡¯t judge someone by their cover."

    Arayn¡¯s smile faded into his usual impassive expression. "It¡¯s good you realize that. But don¡¯t mistake this for trust. I don¡¯t know you on a personal level yet. So, introduce yourself properly."

    Eryndor blinked. "How?"

    Arayn pointed toward the cave¡¯s gaping maw. "By fighting the mother-class monster within. You are not allowed to hold back. Not at all."

    Eryndor smirked. "Sure, but not holding back will make this too easy. I¡¯m not sure that¡¯ll entertain you."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed. "You fool. Don¡¯t insult my decision. Just do it."

    Eryndor raised his hands in surrender, his grin widening. "Okay, okay. I¡¯ll give you a good show." With that, he strode confidently into the cave.

    A deep rumble echoed from the depths of the cave, shaking the ground beneath Arayn¡¯s feet. He remained still, his gaze fixed on the entrance. Moments later, Eryndor burst from the darkness, leaping into the air as a massive Bloodthorn Beast lunged after him, its gaping maw snapping just inches from his heels.

    Arayn''s sharp eyes caught movement to his side¡ªa colossal claw swiping toward him. Without hesitation, he pushed off the ground, landing lightly on a high branch. From his vantage point, he saw Eryndor twist midair, narrowly avoiding the beast¡¯s bite as he landed with a roll, maintaining distance from his pursuer.

    Eryndor glanced at Arayn, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Hey, Arayn, you said this is the nest of a mother-class Bloodthorn Beast, right?"

    Arayn raised a single eyebrow. "Are you implying I¡¯d lie about such a trivial detail?"

    Eryndor shook his head, smirking. "No, it¡¯s not that. It¡¯s just¡­ there are seven mother-class Bloodthorn Beasts in there."

    Before Arayn could respond, six more massive Bloodthorn Beasts crawled out of the cave, their crimson-hued forms towering over the forest floor.

    Eryndor, now standing a few paces away, kept his eyes on the growing threat. "And not just that," he added, his tone darkening, "there¡¯s one in there that¡¯s several times bigger than these."

    The ground shook violently as the cave entrance began to crumble. With a deafening roar, an enormous Bloodthorn Beast emerged, its size dwarfing the others. Long spikes lined its back, and its crimson eyes burned with rage. It let out a bellowing cry that seemed to shake the very forest.

    Arayn stood unmoving on the branch, his gaze fixed on the behemoth. His lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "I know," he murmured, "is precisely why I told you to follow me."

 Chapter 13: Discerning Eyes

    Eryndor narrowed his eyes. "Are you trying to trap me?"

    Arayn scoffed. "Fool. Just take down one mother-class Bloodthorn Beast. I''ll handle the rest."

    A massive claw swiped toward Eryndor, but he twisted out of the way, his feet skimming the forest floor. "Are you sure?" he asked, glancing toward a hulking figure in the distance. "That thing¡ªthe one bigger than the mother-class ones¡ªthat''s an alpha-class monster. And they are all level 20! We don''t know if they have reached expert class."

    "Don¡¯t make me repeat myself," Arayn replied.

    Eryndor sighed. "Okay, okay," he muttered.

    Suddenly, a suffocating aura radiated from Eryndor¡¯s body. As a claw barreled toward him, he caught it with one hand, gripping it effortlessly. With a sharp motion, he hurled the mother-class monster into another, their massive bodies colliding with a deafening crash.

    Five more beasts charged him. Eryndor dropped into a low stance, his sword gleaming as he drew it. In an instant, he vanished, becoming a blur of motion. When he reappeared behind the creatures, one of them froze, split cleanly in half before collapsing to the ground.

    "Not bad," Arayn said. He smirked, dropping from the tree. "Now it¡¯s my turn."

    Arayn activated his ultimate trump card, [Dark Pact], feeling raw power course through his veins at the cost of his life force. The beasts shifted their attention to him, their feral eyes gleaming with malice as they charged.

    Arayn extended his palm and uttered words in the ancient demon tongue, "Z¡¯rath Khaal Umbryn, vrylak¡¯hir dross malkaar!"

    From his hand, black tendrils surged forth, writhing like living shadows. They snaked through the air before striking the mother-class Bloodthorn Beasts. The beasts froze mid-motion, their roars choking into silence as the tendrils plunged into their massive forms. One by one, they toppled, the ground trembling beneath the weight of their lifeless bodies.

    The alpha-class Bloodthorn Beast roared in fury. Its jaws widened, an ominous glow forming as it began gathering energy into a dense sphere.

    Watching from the side, Eryndor¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "That¡¯s the Beast Ball! Only elite-class monsters can use it. It¡¯s dangerous, Arayn!"

    Arayn shot him a calm glance. "Don¡¯t panic. For an alpha-class monster, such talent is normal. Good¡ªworthy opponent gives me a motivation to unleash my own."

    He extended his hand once more, his voice resonating with dark power. "Kharz''othan T¡¯reth Kaath, drash¡¯khaal vrinn lyssak!"

    The ground trembled as a colossal fang burst forth, towering like a spear. Arayn leaped onto its tip as it shot forward with incredible speed, aimed directly at the beast.

    The Bloodthorn Beast unleashed its energy ball, the radiant sphere colliding with the fang mid-air. The impact ignited a deafening explosion, a shockwave rippling through the battlefield.

    But Arayn had already anticipated it. Launching himself from the fang before the clash, he soared through the chaos and landed directly on the beast¡¯s head. Pressing his palm against its thick hide, he unleashed [Soul Rend].

    "Z¡¯rath Khaal!" Black tendrils erupted from his hand, tearing through the beast¡¯s body from within. The alpha-class Bloodthorn Beast let out one final, agonized roar before collapsing in a lifeless heap.

    Arayn straightened, the dark energy dissipating from his body as he turned to face Eryndor, his expression cold and triumphant.

    [Level Up! You have reached Level 18]

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 18

    Strength: 25

    Dexterity: 23

    Constitution: 36

    Intelligence: 36

    Wisdom: 19

    Charisma: 29]

    Arayn¡¯s gaze lingered on the message for a moment, his expression unreadable. Beside him, Eryndor let out a low whistle, his eyes wide with amazement. "I didn¡¯t expect you to have the same ability as me," he said, his tone equal parts intrigue and disbelief.

    Arayn closed the notification with a swipe, turning his sharp gaze to Eryndor. "The result is similar, and I¡¯d wager the cost is too, but our abilities are fundamentally different. Yours seems to stem from an innate gift."

    Eryndor blinked, startled. "How... how do you know that?"

    "You radiate yourself brightly enough for me to see it," Arayn replied. "And, frankly, your introduction was more than sufficient. I¡¯ve learned what kind of person you are."

    Eryndor¡¯s brows furrowed. "You figured me out from that little performance?"Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Arayn nodded, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It was brief, but commendable. A splendid display. You entertained me well, so as a reward, I¡¯ll let you accompany me on the hunt." He paused, his smirk sharpening into something more commanding. "You will hunt the monsters, and you will present their souls to me."

    Eryndor glanced at the lifeless Bloodthorn Beasts strewn across the ground and barked a short laugh. "Those beasts have no souls left. They¡¯re just empty husks now. But fine, I guess I interrupted your hunt, and truth be told, I enjoyed our time together. I¡¯ll share half the souls I gather today."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed, his tone dripping with disdain. "Fool. I demand ninety percent. My time is precious, and I spent it on you. Consider it a rightful tribute."

    Eryndor¡¯s jaw dropped, his disbelief spilling into a scoff. "You¡¯re a tyrant!"

    Arayn didn¡¯t flinch. "Exactly. And you approached this tyrant and learned from him. Are you impudent enough to not pay tribute to this tyrant?"

    Eryndor sighed, shaking his head. "You¡¯re... quite a character, Arayn." After a moment of silence, he relented. "Fine. Sixty percent. Not a drop more."

    Arayn gave a faint nod, as if granting some unspoken approval. Without another word, the two turned and ventured to another spot, ready to hunt the next wave of beasts.

    ---

    Kaelion crouched low in the shadows, tucked away in a hidden alcove behind a stack of crates in the far corner of Saria''s mansion. It was the perfect spot¡ªconcealed but with a clear view of the room where Saria and the mysterious blonde woman conversed.

    The mansion, located on the outskirts of the town, was quiet, its walls thick enough to muffle any sound, making it the ideal place for secrets to be exchanged. The flickering light of an orb cast strange, wavering shadows across the stone walls, where the two women stood, deep in conversation.

    Saria''s face twisted in disbelief as she watched the fight unfold within the orb. "I can''t believe it," she murmured, her hand gripping the edge of the table. "Arayn is still this strong?"

    The blonde woman, Aveline, stood calmly beside her. "Arayn is on par with me," she stated.

    Saria snapped her fingers, a sudden shift in her demeanor. "We have to ambush him before he enters the town. They¡¯ll be exhausted from the hunt. This is the perfect opportunity."

    Kaelion¡¯s eyes narrowed. He had been watching from his hidden spot, carefully observing their every move. As the conversation grew tense, he activated a small orb of his own, the crystal glowing softly as it recorded the scene. This was something Valen would want to see.

    Kaelion questioned himself, "What now?"

    A voice¡ªValen''s¡ªsuddenly echoed inside his mind. "I can''t believe Saria is working with the Heralds of the Skyfather."

    Kaelion¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Should we report this?¡± he thought.

    Valen replied, "No. Saria hasn''t broken any rules."

    Kaelion nodded as he watched Saria and Aveline continue their discussion. "What should we do next?" he thought.

    ¡°Follow them. When they move to ambush Arayn, you follow,¡± Valen¡¯s voice instructed.

    ---

    Arayn¡¯s [Cursed Fang] plunged deep into the body of the Bloodthorn Beast, the creature¡¯s dying roar cut short by the final blow. The beast collapsed with a heavy thud, and Arayn stood over its fallen form. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his Soul Gathering Scroll and opened it. The scroll shimmered with an ethereal glow as the souls of the defeated beasts soared toward it, swirling into the parchment like a collection of tiny stars. The moment the last of the souls had entered the scroll, it snapped shut with a quiet whisper.

    Arayn turned his head as Eryndor approached. The man seemed to have finished his hunt as well.

    ¡°Open your scroll,¡± Eryndor said.

    Arayn raised an eyebrow but complied. He opened his Soul Gathering Scroll once more, and the souls from Eryndor''s scroll began to drift toward him, flowing smoothly into his own.

    ¡°There,¡± Eryndor said, ¡°I kept my promise.¡±

    Arayn nodded with a small grunt of acknowledgment. ¡°Good,¡± he replied, his eyes scanning the horizon. ¡°Make a bonfire. We¡¯ll camp here for the night.¡±

    Eryndor raised an eyebrow in question. ¡°Why not go back to the town?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t like working half-assed,¡± he said. He motioned for Eryndor to get to work.

    Eryndor smirked. ¡°Fine, but I don¡¯t owe you anymore after today.¡±

    Arayn let out a quiet laugh. ¡°You¡¯ve done well enough.¡± He said it almost casually, his eyes still focused on the surrounding wilderness.

    Eryndor stepped forward and began to gather wood. He arranged the logs before pulling out a flint stone. Sparks flew from the stone, catching on the dry wood. With a few moments, a small fire crackled to life, its flames licking at the air as warmth spread outward. The light flickered in the growing darkness, casting long shadows across the ground.

    Meanwhile, Arayn walked a short distance and began to scatter a fine powder from a small pouch. The powder was a rare substance known for its ability to ward off most predators, its scent strong enough to make monsters hesitate. He was meticulous, ensuring a protective ring around their camp before stepping back, satisfied.

    With the fire now crackling, Arayn turned to Eryndor. ¡°Can you cook?¡±

    Eryndor scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin on his face. ¡°That¡¯s one thing I¡¯m bad at,¡± he admitted.

    Arayn chuckled lightly and gave a wave of his hand. ¡°Sit. I¡¯ll handle the cooking.¡±

    Without waiting for a response, Arayn strode over to the nearest Bloodthorn Beast carcass. He pulled it toward the fire with ease, the massive form of the creature now an ingredient in his makeshift feast. Arayn drew a sharp, jagged knife and began to dismantle the beast. He worked quickly, his blade moving with the confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

    Eryndor, watching from his seat near the fire, couldn¡¯t help but feel a twinge of respect for Arayn. Even in the quiet moments, there was something dangerous about him¡ªa quiet storm that had yet to fully unleash.

    Arayn glanced over at Eryndor, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile. ¡°Get comfortable. This will take a while.¡±

    As Arayn continued to work, methodically dismantling the beast¡¯s body, Eryndor, who had settled near the fire to prepare their meal, glanced around and then looked at Arayn with a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°By the way,¡± Eryndor began, ¡°should we destroy that familiar now? It¡¯s been following us for some time.¡±

    Arayn didn¡¯t even look up from his task. ¡°Let it be,¡± he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. ¡°That¡¯s a low-level familiar connected to a statis surveying tool. That worm has to watch us directly from her nest. It¡¯s better to know what your enemy is doing.¡±

    Eryndor nodded, considering the logic in Arayn¡¯s words. ¡°I see. Speaking of which¡­¡± He trailed off, eyes glinting. ¡°Aren¡¯t I also your enemy? What if I attack you while you sleep?¡±

 Chapter 14: System Origin

    Arayn¡¯s gaze flicked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. ¡°Don¡¯t play words with me, Worm. Don¡¯t insult yourself.¡±

    Eryndor¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender. ¡°I¡¯m just joking,¡± he said.

    Arayn worked quietly as he prepared the meal. The crackle of the fire cast flickering shadows across his face, his hands deftly slicing and searing the meat until its aroma filled the air. He tore off a piece, inspecting it briefly before handing it to Eryndor.

    Eryndor bit into it and chewed thoughtfully. "So tender," he said, his tone light with genuine appreciation. "You really know how to cook."

    Arayn smirked. "Of course. Skills should always complement one¡¯s expression. For me, I excel in many things."

    Eryndor nodded, acknowledging the claim without question, and continued eating. His pace slowed only when the last morsel disappeared from his hand. He leaned back, rubbing his stomach with a contented sigh. "Thanks for the food," he said, lying down on the forest floor.

    Above, the night sky stretched vast and clear, its stars undisturbed by the dense canopy of trees surrounding them. "I can barely see the sky here," Eryndor remarked, his gaze fixed upward. "But tonight, it seems beautiful. Peaceful, even. I rarely get to enjoy the forest like this."

    Arayn leaned against a nearby tree, his voice matter-of-fact as he replied, "That¡¯s because I used beast repellent dust. Even the most aggressive creatures wouldn¡¯t dare come close, let alone the mosquitoes."

    Eryndor chuckled, his eyes still on the stars. "I see. I guess I can sleep peacefully tonight."

    "Don¡¯t be a child," Arayn said. "Come here. I¡¯m going to evaluate you today. Consider it an honor."

    Eryndor laughed but propped himself up on one elbow, his grin faint but curious. "Nobody¡¯s ever done that before. They all call me a genius."

    Arayn crossed his arms. "Your sect is merely a branch of the Crimson Sun Cult. Naturally, the cult has far more knowledge than your small group."

    Eryndor rose to a seated position, cupping his fists in a gesture of respect. "Then enlighten me," he said, his tone eager, his eyes glinting with the firelight.

    Arayn''s gaze sharpened as he addressed Eryndor. "You¡¯ve never truly defeated expert-class warriors on your own, have you?"

    Eryndor blinked, his expression a mix of surprise and embarrassment. "What? Of course, I have¡­" His voice faltered under Arayn''s unyielding stare. Finally, he sighed. "Alright, you''re right. I¡¯ve always been lucky, landing the final blow after others weakened the enemy. My allies, though... they love to embellish stories, and those rumors spread faster than wildfire."

    Arayn nodded. "You have potential, Eryndor. Enough to defeat expert-class warriors before you even reach their level."

    Eryndor¡¯s eyes widened. "Really?"

    Arayn scoffed. "Fool. My judgment is never wrong." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, before continuing. "Tell me, have you ever heard the true history of the class system?"

    Eryndor tilted his head. "Isn¡¯t the class system a gift from the gods?"

    Arayn¡¯s expression hardened, his voice tinged with disdain. "Impudent, and you still dare call yourself a member of the demonic faction? That¡¯s the doctrine of the orthodox factions. They cling to the belief in the gods'' generosity. But the truth..." He leaned forward slightly, his tone darkening, "...is far more complex. While it¡¯s true that those so-called gods created the class system, their intent was not benevolence. They did it to achieve greater heights."

    Eryndor sat up straighter, his interest piqued. "Greater heights? I thought the gods were the pinnacle of existence."

    Arayn''s lips curled into a faint smirk. "They only claim to be the pinnacle. In reality, they¡¯re unworthy of such a title. That¡¯s why we refer to them by their true name, celestials. These beings believed that the ultimate pinnacle lies in reaching nature¡¯s record of all things¡ªthe Akasha¡ªand returning to recount its truths. To achieve this, one must embody the apex of a concept. That¡¯s why the class system exists. Each class is tied to a distinct concept, and by perfecting it, a user can ascend to Akasha and survive its revelation."

    Eryndor leaned back, stunned. "The Akasha¡­ My teachers never mentioned anything like this."

    Arayn nodded knowingly. "Of course not. Even within the Crimson Sun Cult, this knowledge is a closely guarded secret. Only a few are deemed worthy to know it."

    Eryndor exhaled in awe, his tone filled with admiration. "Your knowledge is vast, Arayn. But how does this help me grow strong enough to defeat expert-class warriors?"Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    "When someone devotes themselves entirely to their class, they can achieve power far greater than their peers. That¡¯s why, in other continents, the class system is known by different names¡ªattunement, profession, or even devotion."

    Eryndor¡¯s brow furrowed as he listened, his curiosity evident.

    "By devotion," Arayn continued, "I mean aligning your very essence with what your class demands. It¡¯s not just about mastering skills or techniques; it¡¯s about embodying the spirit of your class from the core of your soul. Take us, for example. As Demonic Acolytes, we must dedicate ourselves to studying and mastering demonic abilities. That¡¯s how we distinguish ourselves, displaying power far beyond what others in our realm can imagine."

    Arayn paused, his eyes narrowing as he focused on Eryndor. "But you, Eryndor, are different. Special."

    Eryndor blinked, surprised. "Special? How?"

    "You possess an innate ability," Arayn said. "Innate abilities are unique expressions of one¡¯s origin¡ªa concept born from the core of their being. It means your path is clearer than most. When someone devotes themselves to a concept, their abilities progress faster. But when two concepts align or attune to each other, the progression becomes exponential. You¡¯ll wield power capable of matching someone an entire realm higher who doesn¡¯t understand the meaning of true devotion."

    Eryndor leaned forward slightly, his expression contemplative. "I see," he murmured, mulling over Arayn¡¯s words.

    "Your origin is Assertion. That¡¯s why you naturally seek to impose your ''self'' on others, whether through words, actions, or presence. And your innate ability reflects this trait¡ªit¡¯s rooted in assertion. Without realizing it, you¡¯ve been walking the right path. But now, with this awareness, if you devote yourself fully to mastering demonic power alongside your innate concept, you will become an extraordinary force. One capable of rivaling expert-class holders, if not surpassing them outright."

    Eryndor sat in silence, his eyes distant as the weight of Arayn¡¯s words settled over him. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "I understand," he said. "Arayn, you have taught me a very valuable lesson. I am glad that I decided to come to you first. I am truly grateful."

    Arayn crossed his arms, watching Eryndor carefully. "I¡¯ve given you enough reward for now. So, what will you do next? Will you challenge me now?"

    Eryndor looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered Arayn¡¯s words. Then, he cupped his fist and bowed his head slightly. "I was planning to do that, but I want you to see the result of my learning. I¡¯ll assert myself to others first, challenge them, and prove my growth before challenging you. Is that acceptable?"

    Arayn studied Eryndor for a moment. He could tell that the man wasn¡¯t afraid of the challenge¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a matter of hesitation or fear. No, Eryndor¡¯s desire to show Arayn the fruits of his labor seemed genuine.

    "Excused," Arayn said with a nod. "Go challenge others. Become stronger."

    Eryndor grinned, the spark of determination in his eyes. "Thanks," he said. Standing up, he stretched. "Listening to you motivates me. I think I¡¯ll hunt more monsters today. Arayn, can I have more meat after the hunt?"

    Arayn¡¯s expression darkened slightly, and he glanced over at the campfire, where the meat sizzled. "No. I¡¯m already cooking this for you. You dare leave the feast without eating? Are you insulting me?"

    Immediately, Eryndor sat up straighter, eyes wide. "You¡¯re right. My bad."

    Arayn allowed a brief chuckle to escape, his expression softening as he turned back to the fire.

    The night passed with the two of them in companionable silence, the crackle of the fire filling the space between them. The following day, they set out to hunt more Bloodthorn Beasts, gathering the creatures¡¯ souls into Soul Gathering Scrolls. At one point, Arayn began to feel that he had collected enough.

    "Let¡¯s head back," he said, glancing over at Eryndor, who nodded in agreement.

    Eryndor followed closely behind as they made their way back toward the town. "What are you planning to buy?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled slightly as he replied, "A sword."

    Eryndor blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback. "A sword?" he echoed. "But your fighting style¡­ it doesn¡¯t seem like something a swordsman."

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained calm as he answered, "I¡¯ve learned many weapon arts. I¡¯m proficient with a sword, among other things."

    Eryndor¡¯s eyes lit up with excitement at the idea of a sword duel. "In our next fight, I want to see your swordsmanship."

    Arayn met his gaze. "I¡¯ll show it to you if you truly don''t lose your path."

    As Arayn and Eryndor made their way through the forest, an almost unnatural quiet settling around them. Suddenly, a woman''s voice interrupted them.

    "I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Arayn."

    Arayn¡¯s gaze shifted to the figure standing ahead, blocking their path. Saria, her eyes glinting with a mix of fury and resolve, stood before them. Beside her was another figure, tall and imposing, draped in black armor, making them seem almost like a shadow.

    Arayn sighed. "It seems you really want to die, don¡¯t you?"

    Saria¡¯s expression twisted, a smile creeping onto her face. "I will have my revenge for what you did in the Pit, Arayn."

    Eryndor, standing a few paces behind Arayn, furrowed his brow, sensing the brewing conflict. "You don¡¯t want to deal with her, right?" he asked, looking at Arayn for confirmation.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes remained cold and focused as he glanced at Saria. "She¡¯s still an irrelevant worm now," he replied dismissively. "But if her presence keeps irritating me, she¡¯ll become an impudent worm."

    With a flick of his wrist, Eryndor turned his full attention to Saria. "Let me handle this. I want to introduce myself to her properly."

    Arayn nodded, stepping aside as he caught Eryndor''s meaning. "Do whatever you like."

    Saria¡¯s lips curled in a taunting smirk. "Stay out of this, Eryndor," she commanded, her voice harsh.

    But Eryndor was already moving, his eyes locked on her. "I can¡¯t do that. I want to make you know me better."

    At that, Saria¡¯s eyes darkened, and she turned to the figure in black armor. "Ava," she said coldly, "deal with him."

    The armored figure, Ava, gave a curt nod and raised an axe that pulsed with dark energy, its blade covered in a swirling black mist. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, Ava charged at Eryndor.

    Eryndor barely had time to react as Ava¡¯s axe swung down with brutal force. He raised his sword to block, the impact of the blow throwing him off his feet. His body collided with the ground, the force of the strike knocking the wind out of him.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze shifted to Ava for a brief moment before his attention returned to Saria. His expression remained unchanged, unaffected by the battle unfolding before him.

    Saria licked her lips, savoring the moment. "We¡¯re finally alone," she said.

 Chapter 15: Grudge

    Eryndor circled Ava, his sword held low, ready to strike or defend at a moment''s notice. Not only that, he also maintained the gap between them. His caution marked that his opponent was really strong.

    "Where did Miss Saria found her helper. He looks strong," he thought.

    Ava calmly observed his movement, her axe cloaked in black smoke that twisted and writhed like living shadows. She exuded immense aura that felt suffocating, a warning to anyone daring enough to get close.

    Eryndor feinted left, testing her reaction. Ava responded with a swift downward swing, her axe cutting through the air and slamming into the ground. Dust and shards of rock exploded upward as Eryndor sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the devastating blow. Her strength was undeniable, each strike heavy enough to crush bone and rend steel.

    "That was dangerous, but I won''t lose if we are competing with raw power!" Eryndor exclaimed.

    He parried her strikes while his eyes scanned for patterns in her movements. Ava¡¯s attacks were relentless, her axe sweeping in wide arcs meant to overpower him. But there¡ªa fraction of a second between swings¡ªan opening.

    Eryndor lunged forward, his blade slicing through the edge of her black armor. The shallow wound earned a hiss of pain from Ava, but she didn¡¯t falter. ¡°As expected,¡± she muttered. ¡°I can''t keep this up without using my abilities.¡±

    The black smoke surrounding her axe dissipated, revealing a gleaming golden weapon beneath. The air seemed to thrum as her aura rippled.

    [Riftbreaker Acceleration].

    She activated her ability, her body blurring with a sudden burst of speed. Before Eryndor could react, she was upon him.

    [Storm''s Wrath].

    A whirlwind coiled around her axe as she swung it forward. The force of her next strike sent him sliding back, his boots skidding against the cracked earth.

    Eryndor clenched his jaw and activated his ability. His [Corlust Eyes] flared to life, faint lines of light tracing Ava¡¯s movements before they happened. With this level of perception, he began to anticipate her attacks, his sword intercepting her strikes.

    Eryndor¡¯s sword flicked forward, aiming for the gap beneath her arm, but Ava reacted instantly. With a burst of speed, she leaped back, her feet barely touching the ground as she avoided the strike by a hair''s breadth.

    He slashed at her flank, then aimed high, trying to force her into a mistake. But Ava reacted accordingly, her axe knocking his strikes aside.

    She stepped forward, her axe spinning with a rush of wind, the whirlwind growing stronger as she swung it downward. Eryndor barely managed to step back in time, the gust slashing at his face. He retaliated with a swift cut to her side, but she twisted her body, narrowly avoiding his strike.

    Their weapons collided again. This time, Eryndor¡¯s sword slid off her axe, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground, cracks splintering beneath their feet. The sheer force of their blows left deep gouges in the earth, shaking the very air around them.

    Ava jumped back, her axe glowing brighter as mana surged into it. ¡°[Heaven''s Gale]!¡± she shouted, swinging her weapon down with all her might. A massive wave of golden energy erupted from the axe, carving a destructive path toward Eryndor.

    Eryndor raised his sword, channeling his own mana into it. ¡°[Azure Requiem]!¡± he called out, releasing a brilliant surge of blue energy to counter her attack.

    The two forces collided in a deafening explosion, the impact sending debris flying in every direction. The ground beneath them trembled as the energy dissipated, leaving a smoldering crater between the two fighters.

    When the dust settled, both stood facing each other, battered but unyielding. Their weapons remained at the ready, their eyes locked in mutual respect.

    ---

    Bolts of energy rained down from the magic circle above Saria. Yet, Arayn remained unfazed, his crimson eyes locked on her with indifference. With a flick of his hand, [Cursed Fangs] materialized around him, intercepting her projectiles mid-air.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Saria¡¯s brows knitted in frustration as she summoned another wave of magic. "How is he still keeping up?" She gritted her teeth. By her calculations, her intelligence stat far exceeded his. There was no way he should have been able to summon so many fangs so effortlessly.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a faint smirk, as if he could hear her thoughts. There was one reason for his advantage. The truth was simple. He had selected thr mana reduction option that allowed him to summon fangs at a fraction of the cost.

    Another volley of magic surged toward him, but Arayn moved like a shadow, activating [Demonic Step]. His figure blurred, vanishing and reappearing in fluid motions as he closed the gap between them. He weaved through her attacks with inhuman reflexes, each projectile missing him by mere inches, leaving streaks of light in their wake.

    Saria¡¯s composure cracked. ¡°You killed him!¡± she screamed. "My brother is dead because of you!¡±

    Arayn¡¯s expression turned colder. ¡°Your brother? That irrelevant worm? He died because he was weak, unworthy of anything else.¡±

    Saria¡¯s magic flared wildly as her rage boiled over. Tears welled in her eyes, but her anger drowned them out. Her desperation fueled her.

    Arayn, now mere steps away, prepared to strike, but a sudden burst of light enveloped Saria. Her figure blurred, transforming into a comet of radiant energy. With an ear-shattering roar, she surged forward, aiming directly at him with incredible speed and force.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed, and he twisted his body just in time to evade the attack. The comet shot past him, slamming into the ground. The impact shattered the earth, sending debris flying and leaving a massive crater behind him. Dust and smoke billowed into the air, but Arayn remained on his feet.

    The light around Saria faded, revealing her determined expression as she regained her composure. She raised her arms, and a massive magic circle appeared above her. Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as another torrent of magic projectiles erupted from the circle.

    Arayn activated [Demonic Step], his form flickering as he dodged the onslaught. Each step narrowly evaded the blasts that scorched the air around him. Despite his precision, the sheer number of attacks left him on the defensive, forcing him to circle around her.

    Saria¡¯s laughter echoed above the chaos. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, Arayn? Why don¡¯t you use your trump card? [Dark Pact], wasn¡¯t it? Oh, yes. I have researched it yesterday!¡± Her laughter grew louder, mocking. ¡°Oh, wait. I almost forgot¡ªit costs life force, doesn¡¯t it? That''s why you are using it sparingly just like an arrogant prick you are.¡±

    Her taunts came with a price. Her focus wavered, and her projectiles lost their deadly precision. She didn¡¯t notice Arayn closing the distance between them, his movements eerily silent. His hand flicked, and a single, tiny fang appeared¡ªno larger than a human tooth. But its speed was unmatched, slicing through the air in an instant.

    Before Saria could react, the fang struck her, piercing through her robe and sinking into her side. She gasped, her knees buckling as blood seeped through her clothes. Clutching her wound, she dropped to the ground, her expression a mix of pain and disbelief.

    Arayn stepped forward, his hand raised for the finishing strike. But before he could land the blow, Saria¡¯s body glowed with the same radiant energy as before. Her form blurred once again, transforming into a blazing comet.

    The comet shot past Arayn, its heat scorching the air as it sped toward the Duskwatch town. The ground trembled as fiery explosions erupted in its wake, the impact sending shockwaves out of the walls.

    Arayn¡¯s form blurred as he chased after the blazing comet. As he moved, his mind raced with suspicion. The shockwaves from the explosions were far too powerful for someone as injured as Saria, and he knew her comet technique had never produced such destructive force before. Something wasn¡¯t adding up.

    His suspicions deepened when he spotted the town gates ahead. Saria must have planned something here, he thought, his eyes narrowing. She was leading him into a trap¡ªhe was certain of it. With a burst of speed, he passed through the gates, arriving just in time to find her standing at the outskirts of the town, near a big mansion.

    Saria leaned heavily against the cracked walls of the structure, blood dripping from her wound and staining the ground beneath her. She panted, but her eyes burned with defiance. Arayn moved in to corner her, his hand extended to deliver the final blow.

    "You¡¯ve fallen right into my trap!" she screamed, her voice hoarse but triumphant. Blood spattered from her lips as she raised a trembling hand. Suddenly , a massive magic circle erupted beneath her. Before Arayn could react, she vanished.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze scanned the circle, his expression darkening as he realized the complexity of her spellwork. "Expansion, summoning, and teleportation," he muttered, recognizing the interwoven layers of the magic. The circle pulsated with an immense amount of mana, far more than Saria could have conjured in a moment. She must have prepared this beforehand, long before their deathmatch began.

    His instincts screamed at him to escape, but the circle suddenly surged outward, expanding rapidly. Before he could retreat, it enveloped him, locking him inside its boundaries. The air grew heavy, oppressive, as dark shapes began to emerge from the glowing sigils.

    Five demonic beasts materialized, their forms grotesque and radiating malice. The first resembled a towering chimera, its three heads¡ªa lion, a serpent, and a raven¡ªsnarling and snapping in unison. The second was a spined wyvern, its leathery wings spreading wide as acidic saliva dripped from its fanged maw. The third beast was a lumbering giant covered in molten rock, each step causing the ground to sizzle and crack. The fourth was a lithe shadow panther, its body flickering between solid and incorporeal, its glowing eyes fixed on Arayn. The fifth and final creature was the most unsettling¡ªa skeletal titan adorned with jagged obsidian armor, its hollow sockets burning with crimson flames.

    Arayn''s eyes darted between the beasts as he clenched his weapon. "So, that¡¯s the purpose of the summoning," he said to himself, his tone cold and analytical. "It¡¯s a one-time invocation, designed to eliminate anyone trapped inside the circle."

    This wasn¡¯t just a trap¡ªit was a killing ground. Saria had pulled him into something far more troublesome than he had anticipated. Furthermore, she pulled the townsfolk into this as well.

 Chapter 16: Demonic Beasts

    Through the magic orb, Vareth¡¯s trembling hands struggled to keep it steady as the scene unfolded. The outskirts of the town were a storm of destruction¡ªflames devouring wooden homes, smoke spiraling into the darkening sky, and monstrous shapes prowling through the chaos. The screams of the townsfolk reached his ears, even through the orb¡¯s magic. His heart pounded as he watched a demonic panther lunge at a fleeing family, its claws tearing through flesh like parchment.

    "Where are they?" he muttered, voice breaking as he scanned for familiar armor. His family¡¯s soldiers should have been there, standing against the tide of destruction. But they weren¡¯t. Then, he remembered something. The cult had ordered him to take them all away on a mission, so the candidates would fight to their heart''s content. There was no one left to defend the town but weak patrol guards.

    Panic clawed at his throat as he turned away from the orb and stumbled toward the far corner of the room. Vareth hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and gave himself courage to speak.

    "Darius!" he called, desperation seeping into his voice.

    "What is it, Vareth?" Darius¡¯s voice was calm as he sipped his wine.

    "It¡¯s the town!" Vareth¡¯s words tumbled out in a frantic rush. "The outskirts are under attack! Demonic beasts everywhere! You have to send someone¡ªanyone!"

    For a moment, there was silence. Then Darius replied, "The townsfolk are expendable. The cult will compensate for their loss, as well as the damages."

    Vareth¡¯s hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Expendable? These are people! Families! Children!"

    "And what of it? The cult''s goals outweigh the lives of a few commoners. You know this, Vareth. Don''t waste my time."

    Vareth''s anger boiled beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. He wanted to scream, to throw the orb across the room, to do something¡ªanything. But he couldn''t. The cult¡¯s control was absolute, and he was powerless against it.

    Biting down on his fury, he turned back to the orb, forcing himself to watch as the town burned. There was nothing else he could do.

    "The Crimson Sun... Arayn... I swear I will have my revenge," he muttered under his breath.

    ---

    As the thick smoke parted, Arayn stood tall, his dark cloak billowing in the fiery winds. The demonic beasts encircled him like predators stalking their prey. Yet, instead of fear, his lips curled into a sharp grin.

    "Finally," he said, his voice ringing with excitement, "Saria, you¡¯ve brought me something worthwhile. Let¡¯s see if these beasts can truly entertain me. I hope you watch me from somewhere, Clown! I¡¯m ready to show you my trump card."

    Above him, the Venom Wyvern and Chimera roared as they ascended into the smoke-filled skies, their massive wings stirring the ash-laden air. On the ground, the Fire Golem and Giant Skeleton charged, shaking the earth with each step. The Ethereal Panther crouched low, its form shimmering as it vanished into thin air.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as he assessed the battlefield, his mind working at lightning speed. "Level 18," he muttered, "but their stats rival that level 20 alpha Bloodthorn Beast I killed. The panther and the wyvern¡ªthose are the real threats." His gaze flickered to the wyvern circling overhead. "I¡¯ll take the wyvern down first."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk deepened as he darted through the golem''s flaming swipes and the skeleton''s sword slashes. A faster swing and flame bullets tore through the air, narrowly missing him, but he weaved and ducked. Each step veered the monsters toward the panicked townsfolk. Cries for help pierced the air, mingling with the roar of collapsing homes and the hiss of spreading flames. Arayn barely glanced at the carnage. Chaos surged around him, and he wielded it like a blade.

    The Giant Skeleton let out a bone-chilling roar, swinging its colossal greatsword through fleeing townsfolk, their blood staining the cracked cobblestones. The Fire Golem followed, lobbing flame bullets that ignited homes and swallowed people. Still, Arayn slipped through the crowd, leading the destruction further away from himself.

    A sudden shimmer of light was all the warning he had before the Ethereal Panther lunged from the empty space, its claws aimed for his throat. Reacting instantly, Arayn unleashed a wave of [Demonic Aura], slowing the panther¡¯s charge just enough for him to sidestep. His foot lashed out in a brutal kick, but the panther¡¯s body turned ethereal upon contact, vanishing into the air.

    Before he could recover, the Fire Golem unleashed a volley of fire bullets, their trajectory splitting between Arayn and the panicked townsfolk. He cursed under his breath and activated [Demonic Step], his body blurring into motion. Crashing through the nearest house, he rolled beneath a splintered table and dove out the opposite window just as the structure was consumed in flames.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    He didn¡¯t stop. Another house. Then another. Each building he entered became another casualty of the inferno. Behind him, walls crumbled, and the echoes of terrified screams filled the air. He spared no glance at the destruction, his focus fixed on his goal.

    Finally, his eyes locked on the clock tower standing tall amidst the ruins. Its height would give him the vantage point he needed. Without hesitation, he darted toward it, his boots kicking up ash and debris. Reaching the base of the tower, he pressed his hand against its stone wall, a sly grin spreading across his face.

    "That Clown is profiting from this massacre," he murmured, walking up the wall, his body defying gravity as he ascended toward the sky. "She should present her tribute to me. Wait for me, Clown Kaelthara."

    Arayn stood atop the tower, the wind whipping his cloak as the Venom Wyvern circled menacingly above. A sickly green mist spread from its maw, the venomous breath hissing as it corroded the air around him. Without hesitation, he activated [Dark Pact], a surge of power darkening his veins for an instant.

    With a burst of [Demonic Step], he vanished from the tower''s edge and reappeared midair, streaking toward the wyvern. His voice rang out as he said, "Vaa''thrak, nek''thal vorak suul drak''mar!"

    Black energy from [Demonic Aura] swirled and condensed around his fist. Then, he struck the wyvern square in its chest. The beast screeched, its massive frame plummeting through the sky and crashing into a house below, reducing it to rubble.

    Before he could relish the moment, a volley of fiery bullets screamed toward him. Arayn¡¯s eyes flicked to the Fire Golem, its molten form glowing with relentless fury. Snarling, he summoned several [Cursed Fangs], launching them to intercept the incoming projectiles. The collision erupted in a series of explosions that scorched the sky, but Arayn clicked his tongue in irritation.

    "Persistent beast," he muttered, noting the golem''s unwavering focus on him.

    Landing lightly on the rooftop of another house, Arayn''s gaze shifted back to the wyvern. From the rubble, the creature rose, its scales coated in a sickly green gas that billowed out in waves. It let out a roar, its venomous eyes locked on him.

    The wyvern arched its back, launching a volley of sharp bristles. Arayn stomped down hard, shattering the roof beneath him and plunging into the house just as the projectiles tore through the air above. Dust and splinters rained down, but he barely paused, catching sight of a fiery glow from the window.

    A flame cannon roared toward him, its heat scorching the walls as it closed in. Without hesitation, Arayn surged forward, crashing through the door and out into the open. Chanting in the ancient tongue, "Va''zul thas, xe''ra miran. Kos''alai ma''zerok," he activated [Demonic Step]. His form flickered, leaping onto the rooftop in a blur of motion. A shadow clone lingered behind, erupting into a plume of black smoke that cloaked the battlefield.

    He darted from roof to roof, each movement leaving another clone that detonated into thick, inky clouds. The town became a labyrinth of shadows, the wyvern¡¯s vision obscured by the swirling smoke. Frustrated, the beast unleashed its venomous breath, sweeping the dark haze aside in a toxic wave.

    But Arayn had already positioned himself. He appeared above the wyvern, his hand glowing with dark energy. With a snarl, he unleashed [Soul Rend], black tendrils lashing into the creature¡¯s body. The wyvern convulsed mid-air, its venomous roar cutting off as it plummeted lifelessly to the ground.

    Arayn landed with a sharp exhale, turning toward the Fire Golem. Its massive frame seemed to glow brighter for a moment, but then its chest erupted with a gaping hole. The creature crumbled to its knees, molten chunks scattering. Arayn''s gaze snapped to the figure behind it¡ªValen Valehn, standing tall with a spear in hand, its tip gleaming with energy.

    Before Arayn could speak, the sky darkened with the shadow of a falling chimera. Its lifeless body crashed into the earth, followed closely by Kaelion, who descended gracefully from the air.

    Arayn crossed his arms, a sharp grin spreading across his face. "Two worms coming together. "Irrelevant worm and impudent worm¡ªdo you both actually think you can fight me?"

    Valen¡¯s expression remained calm, but his tone carried a faint edge of amusement. "It¡¯s fine to call me a worm, Arayn. But don¡¯t you think it¡¯s a bit rude to call Kaelion an ¡®impudent worm¡¯? We¡¯re all contestants in this ritual, after all. Whatever the outcome, shouldn¡¯t we treat each other with respect?"

    Arayn¡¯s laugh echoed. "Respect? Coming from you? That¡¯s rich. And you misunderstand something. The impudent worm here¡­ is you, Valen Valehn."

    Valen¡¯s gaze narrowed slightly, but he said nothing as Arayn continued. "You suppress your murderous intent toward me, but there¡¯s none aimed at Kaelion. The Vorth family, the Vex family, the Valtheran family¡ªthey¡¯re all branches of your line, aren¡¯t they? It¡¯s not hard to deduce what¡¯s happening here. You¡¯re working together with him."

    Arayn turned his head toward Kaelion with disdain. "That makes him irrelevant. His presence in this ritual is as pathetic as a moth chasing a star¡ªpointless, fleeting, and doomed."

    Valen¡¯s face hardened, his tone sharper. "Enough. We¡¯re not here to fight you, Arayn. Truce."

    "So you admit it, then?"

    Valen exhaled heavily, shaking his head. "Listen carefully. If you were to check your soul-gathering scroll, you¡¯d see countless souls converging toward the mansion. That¡¯s where Saria is hiding. She¡¯s gathering more with every passing moment. Not to mention if this chaos continues, Varondale Kingdom will take notice. They¡¯ll send the Order of Stormguard or, worse, our enemy¡ªthe Heralds of the Skyfather. We need to put an end to her madness."

    Arayn shrugged. "I don¡¯t care about your problems. If you want to stop her, go on your own. Or, are you afraid of that clown?"

    Valen hesitated, then nodded. "Admittedly, yes. She¡¯s a territorial type. She must have installed a lot of traps. Now that she¡¯s cornered, breaking into her mansion won¡¯t be easy."

    Arayn scoffed. "Not my problem. You stole my prey, and I¡¯m letting that slide. But... if I count to three and you¡¯re still here, I¡¯ll take it as a declaration of war."

    He raised a hand, his fingers curling into a fist. "One."

    Valen sighed, his shoulders tense. "Fine. I¡¯ll claim the souls she¡¯s gathered on my own. Don¡¯t regret it when I come back stronger."

    Arayn smirked. "Two."

    Valen glanced at Kaelion. "Let¡¯s go."

    Without another word, the two turned and vanished into the distance.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze shifted, locking onto the giant skeleton as it swung its massive blade, slicing through the scattering townsfolk. Nearby, the ethereal panther lunged at a man, sinking its fangs into the man''s neck as he screamed "Help!"

    "The worms are gone," he muttered. "Time to enjoy myself again."

 Chapter 17: A Familiar Face

    Arayn stood at the corner of the burning street, his eyes scanning the devastation spread before him. The ground was littered with burning bodies, and the rubble of destroyed houses.

    Something felt off. His gaze locked onto the giant skeleton standing amidst the carnage. It towered over standing houses, its body radiating an immense energy. Arayn¡¯s brows furrowed as unease crept over him. Something about it didn¡¯t sit right.

    Reaching into his cloak, he pulled out the Soul Gathering Scroll. The enchanted parchment was an artifact capable of revealing the form of souls. Unfurling it, Arayn let the scroll¡¯s magic take hold.

    Souls¡ªcountless, restless souls¡ªdrifted through the air like wisps of light. They flowed toward the distant mansion. But Arayn¡¯s sharp gaze caught an anomaly. Some of the souls veered off course, pulled toward the skeletal behemoth. He watched as the creature absorbed them, its bones glowing faintly with each stolen soul. The aura surrounding it thickened.

    His thoughts sharpened. "The more it feeds, the stronger it becomes. If this continues, it¡¯ll overwhelm anything in its path. No wonder it feels so different from the others."

    The skeletal monster turned, as if sensing his scrutiny. Its hollow eyes burned with a malevolent light.

    Arayn darted forward, his hand cutting through the smoky air as he muttered the incantation. Dark tendrils manifested around his arm, extending toward the giant skeleton like spears. [Soul Rend] penetrated the beast¡¯s armor and ribcage. The armor cracked and splintered under the impact, fragments scattering across the battlefield.

    But even as Arayn prepared to follow up, the skeleton¡¯s broken ribs began to reform. The cracks sealed themselves, the shards drawing back together as if time had rewound. A crimson glow radiated from its core located inside its ribcage¡ªthe same glow he¡¯d seen when it absorbed the souls of the fallen.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as he watched the bones knit themselves whole. "So that¡¯s it," he thought, his mind racing. Each stolen soul wasn¡¯t just bolstering the creature¡¯s strength¡ªit was reinforcing its very existence, protecting it from attacks meant to injure souls.

    The skeleton lurched toward him, and Arayn stepped back, shifting his weight to dodge the swing of its massive sword. He moved fluidly, striking again with [Soul Rend], the black tendrils hitting harder this time, shattering a shoulder bone and toppling the creature¡¯s arm.

    The skeleton''s core flared brighter. As if on command, the skeleton¡¯s arm reattached itself, the broken fragments snapping back into place.

    Arayn sidestepped another slash, his boots grinding against the blood-soaked ground. His breaths steadied, his sharp mind already analyzing. He couldn¡¯t keep wasting mana on a frontal assault.

    A plan was already forming, but first, he needed to survive the next strike.

    Arayn ducked under another massive sword swing, the blade cutting through the air with a deafening whoosh. He felt the gust of wind as it passed, the force nearly knocking him off balance. His feet slid across the cracked earth, but he caught himself and rolled away just in time.

    His eyes darted over the skeleton. The thing had incredible defense, but its offense wasn¡¯t that good. It relyed on brute force only.

    "I can wear it down. It doesn¡¯t have a way to counter my agility. I can outlast it... if I can keep up the pressure."

    Arayn called upon [Cursed Fangs]. Dark energy coursed through his body as he sent a volley of fangs toward the skeleton. Each strike exploded on contact, sending shards of bone scattering in all directions. But as soon as the explosion faded, the skeleton began to regenerate, its bones knitting together with eerie speed, its core glowing brighter.

    The skeleton retaliated with a powerful swing, its sword crashing down where Arayn had just been. He evaded the blow and struck again with another [Cursed Fang].

    Every blow he landed chipped away at the creature¡¯s defenses, but it was slow progress. The skeleton¡¯s regenerative abilities made every effort feel like a futile attempt to carve through stone.

    Arayn¡¯s breath quickened, but he maintained his calm demeanor. "I think those were enough to deceive the beast."

    He knew the real challenge wasn¡¯t just in breaking through its bones¡ªit was in reaching its core. The aura around the beast thickened around the core like an impenetrable shield, and no matter how hard he tried, his attacks couldn¡¯t breach it. However, those only applied to normal attacks. He had an idea to penetrate the aura.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    The ground trembled as the skeleton raised a hand, and a soul clone materialized beside it¡ªa form made of solidified mana. The clone¡¯s movements mirrored the original''s.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes flicked between the two threats. The clone struck first, its ethereal sword slashing through the air. Arayn sidestepped, but the clone pressed. Arayn¡¯s agility outpaced its strikes, weaving around the spectral blade with ease.

    In the same breath, the real skeleton swung its massive sword. The blow came down like a crashing storm, the earth shaking with the force. Arayn¡¯s instincts kicked in, and he rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the sharp edge that cleaved through the air where he had been standing.

    A few scattered stones grazed his side, leaving shallow cuts, but he barely noticed the pain. His focus remained sharp, his body already moving to avoid another slash from the clone.

    As the two enemies closed in, Arayn¡¯s lips parted. His voice rang out in the ancient demon tongue.

    "Kharz''othan, ar''dun var fral''khan ush''mar."

    A swirling aura of crimson energy began to form above his head, gathering around the shape of the fang. It spun faster and faster, the energy intensifying as it built momentum.

    With his attack charged, Arayn continued his evasive maneuvers, ducking under the clone''s swings, sidestepping the skeleton¡¯s deadly blade.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze locked onto the spinning fang above him, its swirling aura pulsing with dark energy, crackling as if eager to be unleashed. "That''s good enough." With a wave of his hand, he commanded it forward.

    The cursed fang shot through the air like a bolt of darkness, leaving a faint trail of swirling power. The soul clone lunged to intercept it, but the fang passed straight through its mana-formed body without resistance.

    The fang surged onward, striking the giant skeleton. The impact collided with the thick aura surrounding the core, creating a blinding flash as the energies clashed. For a moment, it seemed the aura would hold¡ªthe swirling barrier trembled, bending but not breaking.

    Then the fang drilled through, its spinning force ripping apart the protective aura. It struck the core with a resounding crack, the sound echoing across the battlefield. The core, an orb of malevolent energy, shattered into shards, each fragment glowing briefly before fading into nothingness.

    The skeleton froze mid-motion. Its glowing eyes dimmed, and its massive frame crumbled, collapsing into a pile of bones.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as he spotted the panther darting through the chaos. The creature''s eyes fixed on a fleeing townsfolk. Without hesitation, Arayn pursued the panther.

    The panther weaved effortlessly through the wreckage of the town, its lithe form slipping around overturned carts and smoldering debris.

    Arayn followed the trail it left¡ªa flicker of movement here, a streak of claw marks gouged into the walls there. His path was anything but smooth. A burning beam collapsed ahead, forcing him to dive beneath it, the heat searing his skin. Frightened townsfolk darted across his path, some crying out in terror, but he maneuvered through them like a beast.

    Ahead, a group of guards blocked the panther¡¯s path. For a moment, hope flickered in their eyes as they raised their weapons. It was gone in an instant. The panther turned into a blur, and they crumpled before they could even strike. The beast didn¡¯t slow, its glowing eyes now locked on its prey once more.

    The panther caught its prey, its claws pinning the man beneath it. The man screamed, "Help!" But the sound was cut short as the beast leaned in.

    Arayn finally arrived. He raised his hand and unleashed a cursed fang. The projectile sliced through the air, but the panther leaped, landing vertically on a nearby wall.

    It turned to face him, a low growl rumbling in its throat, its eyes locked onto his. Arayn smirked, readying himself for the beast''s charge. But instead of attacking, the panther¡¯s growl faded, and its head snapped to the left. Its ears twitched, its body tensing as if sensing something more important.

    ¡°What now?¡± Arayn muttered.

    The creature turned its attention to the left road at the crossroads, its body coiling like a spring before bolting down the path, leaving its first prey discarded.

    Arayn hesitated for a moment, then followed, his curiosity piqued. What could have distracted it so completely? He kept his pace while observing the ruins of the town as he followed the panther.

    Ahead, he slowed as his eyes fell on a boy kneeling in the dirt. The child held a brush, carefully painting a flower vase that miraculously remained intact amidst the destruction. Flames licked at the remains of a burning house behind the vase, but the boy seemed oblivious, lost in his work.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curved into a rare smirk. He recognized the boy. "Still painting, even now?" he muttered to himself, amused by the boy¡¯s strange priorities in the midst of chaos.

    The panther¡¯s growl deepened as it leaped toward the boy, claws outstretched and ready to strike. Arayn¡¯s gaze sharpened, irritation flashing in his eyes. He activated [Demonic Step], his body vanishing in a blur as he surged forward. Mid-leap, he released his [Demonic Aura], a suffocating wave of power that slammed into the panther mid-air, halting its movement.

    Now directly above the beast, Arayn stretched out his hand. The panther began to shimmer, its body fading as it turned ethereal to evade the attack. Arayn¡¯s fingers curled as [Soul Rend] erupted from his palm, surging downward. The tendrils latched onto the panther''s ethereal form, tearing into its very essence.

    A piercing screech echoed through the street as the panther¡¯s soul-bound body shuddered, forced back into its physical form. The beast hit the ground. Its chest rose once, then stilled completely.

    Arayn landed softly, his aura dissipating as he stood over the now-dead panther. This was the last of the five demonic beasts.

    Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the boy. Without a word, he walked over to a patch of rubble and sat down behind him, leaning against a broken wall. The boy hadn¡¯t even noticed the battle, his brush still moving over the canvas.

    Arayn smirked faintly, watching in silence. He crossed his arms and waited, curious to see the painting finished amidst the aftermath of chaos.

 Chapter 18: Demonic Sword

    The boy wiped the sweat from his brow, his fingers still smudged with streaks of paint. He stepped back, ready to admire the fruit of his labor¡ªa painting of a vase against a burning house in the background. But before his eyes could fully take it in, a shadow moved behind him.

    The painting was lifted from his easel with an ease that startled him. Arayn stood there, holding the canvas, his cold gaze scanning the strokes with an intensity that made the boy shrink back.

    "As usual," Arayn began, "you lose yourself in your work. So much so, you wouldn''t notice a blade at your throat if it came for you."

    The boy''s heart raced. He hadn¡¯t even heard Arayn approach. "It¡¯s you, mister," he stammered.

    Arayn ignored the comment, tilting the painting slightly as he examined it. "The contrast is striking," he murmured, almost to himself. "This painting is impressive."

    The boy blinked, stunned. Praise from people was rare, and to hear it spoken so plainly left him fumbling for words.

    Arayn shifted his gaze. "Sell it to me."

    The boy¡¯s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. When he finally found his voice, it was resolute. "No. I can''t sell it."

    One of Arayn¡¯s brows arched. "Can''t?" he repeated. "What is its worth to you, then?"

    The boy hesitated before his grip on his emotions tightened. "This painting... I risked my life to paint it. I''d sell other paints, but not this."

    Arayn chuckled. "Well, now I want this even more." He turned his eyes to the boy, who stood frozen under his scrutiny. "As for the price, I¡¯ve decided¡ªI¡¯ll take you as my disciple."

    The boy¡¯s eyes widened in shock, his hands clenching at his sides. "No," he blurted out, shaking his head. "I just want to paint. That¡¯s all I want."

    Arayn smirked, unfazed by the refusal. "And what will you do when a danger devours you whole when you are painting? Strength is what allows you to survive, boy. Strength is what will let you tread dangerous lands, places where only the brave or the foolish dare go¡ªplaces where inspiration thrives. Imagine you can paint heaven or even hell. That''s the privilege of the strong. You will only have one more chance to answer me."

    The boy hesitated, his heart racing. Arayn¡¯s words gnawed at the edges of his curiosity, planting seeds of wonder. His love for painting burned fiercely in his chest, but a question lingered in his mind, "What more could he create if he stepped beyond the safety of his quiet life?"

    Finally, he took a trembling step forward. Slowly, he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "I¡­ I accept. Your disciple greets you, Master."

    Arayn nodded in satisfaction, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good." He stepped closer, his gaze as sharp as ever. "Now tell me, boy. What is your name?"

    "My name is Soren, master."

    Arayn turned on his heel, his cloak swirling behind him. Without looking back, he said, "Follow me."

    The boy hesitated, his gaze flickering to the town engulfed in flames. Screams echoed faintly through the air, and the scent of smoke stung his nostrils. His voice wavered as he called out, "Shouldn¡¯t you¡­ help them?"

    Arayn stopped, his head tilting slightly as though considering the suggestion. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he replied, "I owe nothing to them. Their lives or deaths mean nothing to me. But if it troubles you so much, I¡¯ll make an exception. Choose a few¡ªI¡¯ll save them for you."

    The boy stared at him, surprised. But then, his lips pressed into a thin line. "They don¡¯t deserve it," he muttered, bitterness creeping into his voice. "They treated me like dirt. They threw trash at me. They assaulted me for fun. Like I was nothing."

    Arayn turned, a grin spreading across his face. "So, you don¡¯t care about them after all. Then don¡¯t ask me to intervene. Be quiet, and follow me."

    The boy lowered his gaze, the tension in his shoulders easing. Without another word, he stepped forward, his feet falling in step behind Arayn¡¯s.

    Arayn and the boy reached the manor, where Darius and Alice were waiting. As they approached, Alice''s gaze shifted to the boy, a slight frown crossing her face.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    "Who¡¯s this?" she asked curiously.

    Arayn glanced at her and said, "This is my disciple, Soren."

    Alice blinked, clearly surprised. She raised an eyebrow. "You actually care about a stranger?" she remarked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

    Arayn¡¯s expression tightened. "Enough. No more disrespect, especially in front of my subjects. I will teach you a lesson if you repeat it next time."

    Alice''s teasing faded as she crossed her arms, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I was just joking," she muttered, looking away with a huff.

    "I forgive you if you can look after him until the Deathmatch ends," Arayn instructed her.

    Alice crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Is that a tone when you ask a favor from your big sister?" she replied.

    "I will praise you if you do as I say."

    Alice smirked, her voice teasing. "Say please, big sister. Help this little brother."

    Arayn¡¯s expression shifted slightly, annoyance creeping in. "Hey, do you forget why I¡¯m doing this Deathmatch? Now, if you''re grateful, do as I say."

    "Hmph. No," Alice retorted, her arms still crossed.

    Arayn''s lips twitched in frustration. He turned to Darius. "You tell Alice to do it."

    Darius gave a humble bow. "It''s not my place to intervene with family matters, Young Master Arayn."

    Alice glared at Arayn. "You coward. Is it so hard to say please to your big sister?"

    Arayn sighed, his patience thinning. "Forget it." He grabbed Soren by the arm. "Let''s just get you into an inn, far from the burning region."

    Alice called after him. "Wait, okay. Hmph, you are so difficult. I¡¯ll do it."

    Arayn grinned, his tone softening. "Good. If you¡¯re useful to me, I don¡¯t mind becoming more serious in this Deathmatch for you."

    Without waiting for Alice''s response, he turned to Soren. "Follow her."

    Soren hesitated for a moment, but at Arayn''s command, he stepped towards Alice. She glanced at him briefly, then led him to another room.

    Arayn turned back to Darius, his expression turning serious. "I¡¯ve gathered souls. I need to make a purchase."

    Darius, sensing the urgency, nodded without hesitation. "Follow me," he said, stepping aside to lead Arayn toward the office.

    Arayn presented the collection of souls he had gathered. With a flick of his wrist, he unfurled the Soul Gathering Scroll, and the souls within it began to drift out, flowing like faint wisps of light. They entered the Ritual Lantern, a dark, ornate vessel designed to house souls. The lantern shimmered briefly before a glowing screen appeared, displaying the values of the newly stored souls.

    Darius observed the process with a satisfied nod. "Good job, young master," he said smoothly, before waving his hand. A translucent screen materialized before Arayn, listing the items available for purchase.

    Arayn didn¡¯t bother glancing at the list. His eyes locked onto Darius. "I want that sword," he declared.

    Darius nodded, moving to retrieve the weapon. Moments later, he returned with Malzareth, a sword exuding a dark, ominous aura. "This is the catalyst sword Malzareth," Darius explained, holding it reverently. "Forged from the essence of the demon Malzareth you defeated. It was meant to be a key catalyst in summoning the Heavenly Demon class through the primordial crystal. However, I only sacrificed five catalysts for the summoning and preserved Malzareth for this moment."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes gleamed with interest as he examined the blade. Its sleek design pulsed faintly with power, and the screen beside it displayed four unlocked abilities. "Four abilities, all locked," Arayn mused aloud.

    He turned to Darius. "How many souls do I need to unlock one of these abilities?"

    Darius¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change as he replied, "One hundred souls¡ªor the equivalent of a single Deathmatch participant¡¯s soul."

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a grin. "Consider it done," he said.

    Darius watched as the Ritual Lantern dimmed, its task complete. With a thoughtful expression, he turned to Arayn. "Are you finally going to eliminate a participant, young master?"

    Arayn paused, his mind briefly wandering to Eryndor''s request to make other contestants learn about him. Arayn was also interested in his growth. He shook his head. "Not now," he replied evenly.

    Darius raised an eyebrow but continued. "Valen and Kaelion are set to fight Saria soon. If they take the battle seriously, one of them will fall."

    Arayn¡¯s lips twitched into a faint smile. "Don''t worry. No one will die. Saria has a powerful ally on her side."

    With that, Arayn turned and left the office.

    He made his way to Alice¡¯s room, where she and Soren waited. His sharp gaze settled on the boy. "Do you still have your painting tools?" he asked.

    Soren nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I do."

    "Good," Arayn replied. "Then I''ll hold a test."

    Alice arched an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "And what exactly is this test?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of curiosity.

    "Sit comfortably there and watch," Arayn instructed.

    He turned to Soren. "Before we begin, you should understand something about me. I was cursed after a certain... encounter. Ever since, I¡¯ve been granted a cursed power called [Demonic Aura]. It constantly seeps out. The only thing keeping it in check is this Robe of Concealment." He tugged at the fabric draped over his shoulders. "With it, I can suppress or unleash my aura as I please."

    Soren¡¯s expression twisted with unease, but he didn¡¯t move. Arayn pointed to the corner of the room. "Stand there. Now."

    The boy quickly obeyed, clutching his paint set tightly. Arayn loosened the robe¡¯s clasp and let it fall. The room grew heavier instantly. His [Demonic Aura] spread like a storm cloud, oppressive and suffocating.

    Soren staggered, his face draining of color as beads of sweat formed on his brow. Meanwhile, Alice seemed unaffected. She crossed her arms and shot Arayn a sidelong glance. "What are you doing, Arayn? Planning to scare him to death?"

    Arayn smirked, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "No. This is his test. If he fails to impress me, I¡¯ll take his life." His tone was calm, devoid of mercy. "The task is simple. I want you to paint me and Alice together. You have fifteen minutes."

    Soren''s breath hitched, but he swallowed his fear and began setting up his tools, his trembling hands betraying the weight of the challenge ahead.

 Chapter 19: Flames

    Arayn sat beside Alice, his imposing presence a stark contrast to her relaxed posture. His crimson gaze fixed on Soren, who worked diligently at the corner of the room. Despite the oppressive weight of Arayn''s [Demonic Aura], the boy¡¯s hands moved with precision, his focus unwavering. Arayn''s lips twitched faintly, a hint of approval he kept to himself.

    Alice tilted her head, observing the boy¡¯s determined expression. "Is this supposed to be a family painting?" she asked.

    "It precisely is," Arayn replied without hesitation. "We never had one."

    Alice¡¯s cheeks turned slightly pink as she crossed her arms. "W-Well, I guess it¡¯s nice to have one¡­ not that I care or anything," she muttered.

    Arayn didn¡¯t bother to look at her. "Hm," he replied curtly, his attention still on Soren.

    Minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the sound of Soren¡¯s brush against the canvas. When the fifteen minutes were up, the boy turned toward them, his painting trembling slightly in his hands. "It¡¯s done," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Arayn rose from his seat and strode over, his oppressive aura still filling the room like an invisible weight. Soren flinched but held the painting steady as Arayn approached.

    Arayn pulled the Robe of Concealment from the floor and draped it over his shoulders. The air in the room shifted as the oppressive aura receded, vanishing entirely when the robe settled in place. Soren exhaled shakily, his legs threatening to give out from the sudden relief.

    Now concealed, Arayn took the painting from Soren, holding it up to inspect the work. What greeted his eyes wasn¡¯t a detailed portrait but a swirl of abstract shapes and colors. It was chaotic, yet strangely captivating¡ªa raw depiction of the overwhelming pressure that had filled the room moments ago.

    Alice¡¯s face paled. She glanced nervously at Arayn. "He¡­ he tried his best! You can¡¯t just¡ª" She stopped herself, swallowing her fear. "Don¡¯t kill him. It¡¯s just a painting, after all."

    Arayn remained silent for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him. His laughter grew, filling the room. Alice stared at him, bewildered. "You¡¯re¡­ laughing?"

    "I¡¯m satisfied," Arayn said, his grin wolfish as he turned toward Soren. "You passed. This painting reflects the mind. To focus under such conditions and create something meaningful... That¡¯s worthy of my recognition."

    Soren¡¯s knees buckled slightly in relief, but he held his ground.

    Arayn placed a hand on the boy¡¯s shoulder. "From this moment on, you are my first official disciple."

    Soren let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him now. His shoulders sagged, and his trembling hands finally steadied.

    Arayn glanced at him, his expression unreadable. ¡°You still have many tasks. Go to the inn we booked earlier,¡± he said, turning to leave.

    Before he could take a step, Alice interjected, ¡°Soren can rest here as my guest. You, however, still have a job to do, right?¡±

    Arayn paused, his gaze narrowing. ¡°Fine. But while he¡¯s here, educate him about the basics. Start with the cult structure.¡±

    Alice frowned, crossing her arms. ¡°He just went through hell, and now you want him to study? The boy needs to rest.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arayn said firmly. ¡°If he can¡¯t memorize it by tomorrow, I¡¯ll punish both of you.¡±

    Arayn turned away. He left the room without another glance, his dark robe billowing behind him.

    Once outside, he leapt from roof to roof. The cool night air brushed against his face, but his grip on his sword remained tight. The blade pulsed faintly in his grasp, almost as if alive, hungry for blood. It felt as though the sword wanted to devour something today.

    ---

    Valen and Kaelion stood in front of the burning mansion, its flames licking the night sky like a beacon of chaos. The air scorched, and embers floated around them like restless spirits.

    ¡°She¡¯s prepared dangerous magic circles inside,¡± he said, his eyes scanning the blazing structure.

    Valen¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver from the inferno. ¡°I have analyzed the magic circles design you sent me. Those are summoning circles. I bet after summoning something, she will come out. However, I came prepared.¡±

    Without another word, he held up the Ritual Lantern. Souls began to seep from the lantern¡¯s confines, writhing and screaming in agony as they emerged. Valen''s voice carried over their wails as he uttered the name of his necromancy ability, "[Infernal Subjugation]."

    The souls howled, and the flames of the burning mansion seemed to respond. Tendrils of fire twisted and coiled toward them, drawn as if by some unseen force. The flames were absorbed into the souls, their incorporeal forms igniting and transforming into fiery apparitions. One by one, the Vengeful Flame Spirits took shape, their numbers growing until two hundred of them hovered menacingly, their bodies ranging in power from level 1 to level 5.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Valen¡¯s expression remained grim as he watched the process. ¡°A waste. I gathered these souls for a different purpose. But if it means eliminating Saria, so be it.¡±

    The mansion¡¯s doors creaked open, and Saria emerged. Her presence was overwhelming, her body radiating an aura of immense power that seemed to smother the flames around her. Behind her, six massive demonic flame golems lumbered out. Each of them was level 19.

    Saria was unscathed, her injuries from fighting Arayn completely healed. Valen¡¯s jaw tightened as he activated the class system¡¯s feature to check her level. His eyes widened. ¡°Level 20...¡± he whispered.

    Saria¡¯s grin widened as her gaze locked onto the two men. ¡°Do not fear. I won''t advance into expert-class yet. So, I won''t cheat. Still... I wanted to finish Arayn first, but taking down you, Valen, one of the strongest participants? That¡¯s a satisfying consolation prize.¡±

    The golems behind her roared, the flames around them intensifying, as Valen and Kaelion braced themselves for the impending battle.

    Valen raised his hand, his voice calm but commanding. ¡°Attack.¡±

    The Vengeful Flame Spirits surged forward like a fiery tide, their forms crackling with volatile energy as they raced toward Saria and her golems.

    Saria chuckled, crossing her arms as she watched the swarm. ¡°Do you truly believe low-level fire spirits can defeat higher-level fire demonic beasts? Pathetic.¡±

    Her grin widened as she gestured toward her flame golems. ¡°Destroy them.¡±

    The six demonic flame golems roared, raising their massive arms as fireballs began to form in their hands. With a synchronized movement, they launched a volley of fiery projectiles into the swarm, the explosions lighting up the battlefield. Many of the spirits were incinerated instantly, their wails of anguish fading into silence.

    But not all.

    Some of the Vengeful Flame Spirits darted and weaved through the chaos, their small, agile forms slipping past the fiery barrage. A handful of them broke through and raced toward Saria, their blazing bodies leaving trails of fire in their wake.

    Saria¡¯s grin faltered. She thrust her hands forward, conjuring a barrier of energy just in time to block the oncoming spirits. They slammed into the barrier one after another, their fiery bodies exploding on impact. Saria winced as the force of the attacks reverberated through her defenses. Cracks began to spiderweb across the surface of her barrier, the relentless onslaught pushing it to its limits.

    Valen watched the scene unfold with a cold smile. ¡°Demons reproduce by binding a corrupted soul to a physical form,¡± he began, his voice cutting through the roar of battle. ¡°But not all souls are so fortunate. Some bind themselves to objects or forces without sapience, becoming what we call demonic beasts. They lack thought, intelligence... purpose.¡±

    His eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto Saria. ¡°Your demonic beasts are strong, yes, but they are mindless. My spirits, on the other hand... They still cling to the last vestiges of their sapience. Their pain. Their hatred. I manipulate those desires and direct them toward one target¡ªyou.¡±

    Saria¡¯s expression darkened as the barrier groaned under the weight of the relentless assault.

    ¡°If you underestimate them,¡± Valen continued, ¡°one of them might just take your life.¡±

    Saria¡¯s grin widened as her barrier held strong against the assault. ¡°I didn¡¯t conjure this barrier to protect myself,¡± she said with a mocking tone. ¡°I did it to buy time.¡±

    Beneath her feet, a magic circle flared to life, glowing a deep crimson. Similar magic circles appeared under each of her flame golems, all connected by lines of energy. The compound structure pulsed with immense power, linking Saria and her golems in a grand arcane network.

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed. His voice boomed in the ancient demon language, "Zar¡¯khal voryn. Ignis¡¯kar zhatar. Felyndor akh¡¯tar nizhal!"

    The Vengeful Flame Spirits howled as their forms blazed brighter, their fiery bodies reaching a critical intensity before exploding in a massive eruption of flames. The shockwave rippled, reducing four of the six flame golems to ash.

    Saria staggered slightly but retained her grin. Her barrier endured the explosion. The grand magic circle beneath her flared even brighter, and the flames from across the town surged toward her. The ash of the destroyed golems coalesced, reshaping into their original forms. In moments, the four defeated golems stood again, fully regenerated.

    Saria let out a triumphant laugh. ¡°Now that my magic circle is complete, I am invincible!¡±

    Before she could continue, a shadow loomed behind her. Kaelion appeared, swinging his dagger at her. Saria¡¯s eyes widened in shock, but her thoughts surged with command, and Kaelion¡¯s body ignited, turning to cinders before he could land his blow.

    ¡°That was close,¡± Saria muttered, brushing herself off. Her confidence faltered for a moment, but then she noticed movement beside Valen. Her eyes widened in realization. Kaelion stood there, unharmed.

    ¡°A doppelganger,¡± she murmured, understanding his ability in an instant.

    Valen¡¯s gaze shifted to the linked magic circles beneath Saria. He studied its connections and power. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said flatly. ¡°That magic circle makes you invincible¡ªagainst anyone below the expert class. But invincibility has its limits. To defeat you, we¡¯ll have to pull you out of that circle or wait for it to fade.¡±

    Saria let out a sharp laugh. ¡°Fade? This magic circle won¡¯t disappear. I burned this town to fuel it! As long as there¡¯s fire, it will remain active. You don¡¯t stand a chance.¡±

    Valen¡¯s expression remained stoic. ¡°Then we¡¯ll pull you out of it.¡±

    Saria scoffed, raising her hand to command her flame golems. ¡°Attack.¡±

    The six demonic beasts roared, unleashing a torrent of flame cannons. The air rippled with heat as fiery orbs hurtled toward Valen and Kaelion. The first blast struck inches from Kaelion¡¯s feet, sending a shockwave that nearly toppled him.

    Valen barely had time to react as another cannon surged toward him, blindingly fast. Kaelion shoved him aside with a grunt, the force tossing Valen off balance.

    As Valen tumbled through the air, his hand shot forward, summoning a chain of magic. The glowing chain snaked through the chaos, wrapping around Kaelion''s arm just as a searing blast erupted where Kaelion had stood. With a fierce pull, Valen yanked Kaelion skyward, both of them narrowly escaping the fiery inferno below.

    Their breaths ragged as they landed on a crumbling rooftop, the roar of the golems'' barrage echoing in their ears.

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened slightly as he observed the devastation. ¡°Their attack power... it¡¯s comparable to an expert-class fighter,¡± he muttered.

    Kaelion glanced at him, his expression grim.

    ¡°We retreat,¡± Valen said firmly. ¡°We need a better plan.¡±

    Kaelion nodded, and without hesitation, the two vanished into the shadows, leaving Saria standing amidst the chaos, her mocking laughter echoing through the air.

 Chapter 20: Raging Worm

    Arayn stood atop the clock tower, his crimson gaze fixed on the departing figures of Valen and Kaelion. A faint smirk crossed his lips as he shifted his attention to Saria and the compound magic circle pulsing beneath her feet.

    "That stupid worm," he muttered, his tone dripping with disdain. "And here I thought she''d become an interesting clown."

    Though her aura radiated invincibility, Arayn¡¯s keen mind quickly dissected the situation. Saria¡¯s grand display was riddled with flaws. She couldn¡¯t burn the entire town. Darius wouldn''t let her flame reach the neutral zone. The fire would eventually extinguish, leaving her magic starved. Worse, her immobility tethered her to the magic circle, a fatal weakness if Valen had the wit to summon ritual rain from afar.

    "Pathetic," Arayn mused, the smirk fading. Saria¡¯s theatrics didn¡¯t warrant his attention. Still, the souls she had collected posed a curiosity. She couldn¡¯t have consumed them all to fuel the circle. They had to be stored somewhere, hidden but intact.

    He turned, his cloak sweeping behind him as his thoughts shifted. The souls could wait; there were easier, more efficient ways to gather what he needed.

    As Arayn turned to leave, a flicker of movement below caught his eye. He paused, his gaze narrowing as he spotted two figures sprinting through the streets toward Saria. One was unmistakably Eryndor, his long, dark hair and determined stride marking him even from this distance. Beside him ran a blonde woman clad in armor.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile. "Well, well," he murmured to himself, leaning against the clock tower¡¯s edge. "It seems the fool worm brought company."

    The woman¡¯s presence intrigued him. Her aura was strong¡ªsoothing yet overbearing. He didn''t need to think long before guessing that the woman was the same person that had attacked Eryndor. Now that they seemed to get along, they made an unpredictable pair, and unpredictability always had the potential for amusement.

    Arayn folded his arms, his crimson eyes fixed on the unfolding scene below. "Maybe this worm has more entertainment value after all," he muttered. He settled in to watch, eager to see how this new twist would unfold.

    ---

    Aveline and Eryndor appeared before Saria. The heat from the burning surroundings pressed down on them. Aveline¡¯s gaze was sharp, her hand resting near the handle of her axe, ready for whatever came next. She spoke first, ¡°Are you the one who burned this town?¡±

    Saria greeted them with an unsettling smile, her posture relaxed as though she were in control of everything. ¡°Ah, Aveline, always so direct. And you... Eryndor, why is he still alive? I thought he would¡¯ve been long gone by now.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s eyes narrowed, frustration flickering in her expression. ¡°Don¡¯t try to divert the conversation, Saria. Answer me.¡±

    Saria¡¯s grin remained unwavering. ¡°Yes, I did it,¡± she admitted, the weight of her words hanging in the air. ¡°I burned this town.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s brow furrowed, confusion lacing her words. ¡°Why? You wanted the cult to be seen as an orthodox organization to the world, didn¡¯t you? All of this¡­ it will make the people hate the cult more than they already do.¡±

    Saria laughed. ¡°That¡¯s what you believe? That¡¯s what you¡¯ve been told? I''ve lied to you, Aveline. I want the world to fear the cult, not worship it. I want them to understand our power. I want them to bow before me¡ªunconditionally.¡±

    Her words dripped with arrogance as she took a step forward, eyes cold as she met Aveline¡¯s gaze. ¡°And you? You¡¯re useless to me if you can¡¯t be of any value.¡±

    With a casual flick of her wrist, she commanded her demonic fire golems to attack. Their massive forms moved swiftly, unleashing a barrage of fire cannons aimed directly at the two of them.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Eryndor¡¯s voice cut through the heat. ¡°Aveline, we need to work together.¡±

    Without hesitation, he raised his sword high. A brilliant light began to gather at its tip, and with a sharp motion, he unleashed a concentrated beam of energy, streaking through the air to meet the incoming fire.

    [Azure Requiem]

    Aveline, quick to follow his lead, swung her axe with power, sending a wave of energy in the form of a crashing shockwave that collided with the fire cannons. The two forces clashed in midair, an explosion of power and flame that lit up the already burning surroundings.

    Eryndor and Aveline burst through the explosion''s blinding flames. Without wasting a moment, they unleashed their abilities again. Eryndor¡¯s blade arced, releasing a surge of energy that tore through one of the towering golems. Aveline¡¯s axe cleaved with divine force, shattering another into molten fragments. Both golems crumbled into embers, but as the pair stepped into Saria¡¯s magic circle, a massive pillar of flame erupted toward the sky.

    The heat was blinding, but Eryndor and Aveline leaped back simultaneously, narrowly escaping the scorching inferno. When the pillar subsided, the golems they had just destroyed stood regenerated, their bodies reforming from the flames.

    Saria¡¯s laughter rang out. ¡°As expected, you two are the strongest. To defeat a durable demonic beast with a single attack, you two are monsters, but don¡¯t you see? I am endless within this magic circle. Let¡¯s see who exhausts their stamina and mana first.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s expression tightened, frustration flickering in her eyes. ¡°Saria, listen to me!¡± she called out. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. There¡¯s still time to come back.¡±

    Saria¡¯s gaze hardened, her lips curling into a sneer. She ignored Aveline entirely, turning her attention to Eryndor. ¡°Why are you still siding with her?¡± she demanded. ¡°She¡¯s a member of the Heralds of the Skyfather¡ªour cult¡¯s enemy. You know what you must do. Take her down.¡±

    Eryndor¡¯s grip on his sword tightened. ¡°I will defeat her... but later. Right now, this is my chance to make you understand who I am.¡±

    Saria scoffed, her tone laced with disdain. ¡°Understand you? I have no interest in knowing more about my victim.¡±

    She raised her hands, conjuring a large, glowing magic circle. The golems surrounding her poured their demonic mana into the sigil, which began to pulse with an ominous light. From its center, a colossal snake-shaped flame surged forth, its fiery body slithering through the air as it lunged toward Eryndor.

    Eryndor met the attack head-on, his blade slicing through the serpent, splitting it into scattered fragments of flame. But the fire gathered again, re-forming into the snake¡¯s menacing shape. It lunged once more, relentless in its pursuit.

    Aveline took a step forward, clutching her axe tightly as she chanted, ¡°Skyfather Auron, He who brings light to the dark, He who shields us from despair, bless this unworthy servant and banish evil from this world.¡±

    A holy aura radiated from her, enveloping the serpent in its glow. The fiery creature hissed, its movements faltering as the divine light snuffed out its unholy energy.

    Seizing the opportunity, Eryndor leaped forward, his sword slicing through the snake again. This time, it shattered into countless embers that failed to reform.

    Saria only smiled. The golems around her once more funneled their mana into the floating magic circle, and another flame snake emerged, its fiery eyes locking onto them with renewed fury.

    Eryndor¡¯s jaw tightened as he realized the futility of their efforts. ¡°This is endless,¡± he muttered.

    Aveline nodded grimly. ¡°We have to retreat. We can¡¯t stop her like this.¡±

    Without another word, they turned, moving swiftly away from Saria''s madness, the flaming serpent trailing behind them until they went out of the range.

    Eryndor glanced over his shoulder, noticing the fiery snake halting its pursuit. Its glowing eyes burned with rage, but it made no move to chase further. He narrowed his eyes, piecing it together. The serpent had a range.

    Before he could speak, Valen and Kaelion emerged from the alley. Valen¡¯s voice broke the tense silence. ¡°Relax, we are not here to fight. We have a plan to stop Saria, but we¡¯ll need to work together.¡±

    Eryndor didn¡¯t hesitate, nodding once. ¡°Fine, but after we stop her, Saria stays alive. I won''t allow her death.¡±

    Valen¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes held a darker intent. ¡°Good. I¡¯m glad to hear that.¡± His gaze shifted sharply to Aveline, standing nearby. His tone turned cold. ¡°Now that we¡¯re allies, Eryndor... let¡¯s eliminate this woman.¡±

    Without warning, Valen lunged, his spear aiming for Aveline¡¯s chest, but the clash of steel rang out instead. Eryndor had intercepted the strike, his sword locking against the spear in a shower of sparks.

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened, then narrowed. ¡°What are you doing, Eryndor?¡±

    Eryndor held his ground. ¡°I have unfinished business with her.¡±

    He turned slightly, giving Aveline the briefest of nods. She hesitated, her lips parting as if to argue, but his expression left no room for debate. ¡°Go,¡± he said firmly.

    Aveline¡¯s hand tightened on her axe, but she stepped back. ¡°Thank you,¡± she whispered before turning and disappearing into the ruins of the town.

    Valen¡¯s gaze followed her retreat, his grip on the spear tightening. ¡°You let her go? Do you understand what you¡¯ve done?¡±

    Eryndor shifted his stance, his sword still pointed toward Valen. ¡°If you chase her, we¡¯re done here. I won¡¯t work with you, and Saria won¡¯t be stopped. You decide.¡±

    Valen¡¯s jaw clenched, but after a long pause, he lowered his spear. "Fine. For now, Saria is the priority."

 Chapter 21: Empty Promise

    The dim light of the church''s candles flickered against the blood-smeared armor of Aveline as she knelt before the grand statue of Auron, her axe resting at her side. Her hands clasped tightly, trembling, as she whispered her prayer to the Skyfather.

    "I seek your guidance, Lord Auron," she murmured. "I want peace for this world. I don''t want to shed more blood."

    The words echoed faintly in the hollow silence of the church.

    A chuckle cut through the quiet. It came from one of the pews. Aveline¡¯s eyes opened, and she turned to see a cloaked figure lounging casually on a bench, her face obscured in the shadows of her hood.

    ¡°Praying for world peace while drenched in blood,¡± the woman said, her tone dripping with amusement. ¡°How poetic.¡±

    Aveline rose, her expression stern, though the exhaustion in her eyes betrayed her. ¡°Is there something wrong with praying for peace?¡± she asked evenly, brushing aside the dried blood on her gauntlet.

    ¡°Of course not,¡± the woman replied, leaning forward slightly. ¡°But if that¡¯s all you do, peace will forever remain a prayer. Empty words, never reality.¡±

    Aveline frowned, her voice rising just enough to match the woman¡¯s tone. ¡°I am doing something. I¡¯ve worked tirelessly for it¡ªfighting against the darkness that threatens this world.¡±

    The cloaked woman tilted her head, the flicker of a smirk visible beneath the shadow of her hood. ¡°By becoming the Herald? By slaughtering every demonic practitioner you encounter?¡± She leaned back, resting her arms on the pew. ¡°And what happens when you kill one? Two more rise to take their place. You¡¯re cutting weeds, not planting peace.¡±

    Aveline stepped forward, her armor clinking faintly in the still air. ¡°Then tell me. How do I break the cycle of hate?¡±

    The woman¡¯s smirk faded, replaced by an almost wistful expression. ¡°Find the source,¡± she said softly. ¡°Pull it out by the root, or... change it. Hatred has a beginning, Herald. It does not appear from nowhere. Would you like to know where it all stems from?¡±

    Aveline hesitated. ¡°And if I know this source?¡± she asked warily. ¡°What happens then?¡±

    ¡°That,¡± the cloaked woman said, rising to her feet, ¡°is entirely up to you.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s eyes narrowed as the woman reached for her hood, pulling it back to reveal a stunningly beautiful face framed by soft brunette curls. Her features were sharp, her smile enigmatic, but her emerald eyes captured the intense glow of ambition.

    ¡°I am Saria Kaelthara,¡± the woman said. ¡°The question is, Herald, will you face the evil of this world if I give you a chance?¡±

    Aveline stared at her, her breath caught between suspicion and curiosity. The faint echoes of her prayer lingered in the church, unanswered by Auron¡ªbut perhaps this was an answer of a different kind.

    ---

    Aveline¡¯s mind churned with memories as she fled the town¡¯s gate, her heart heavier than the armor she wore. The image of Saria¡¯s face haunted her. She remembered their first encounter vividly, the way Saria had worked tirelessly to persuade her to join her cause.

    Saria¡¯s words had resonated then, offering hope for something greater. Together, they were supposed to break the cycle of hatred, to reshape the world into something better. Aveline had started to see Saria not as an adversary, not as a business partner, but as a friend.

    Now, that hope felt like a cruel joke.

    Aveline¡¯s steps faltered, her vision blurring with tears. Betrayal stabbed deeper than any blade, and the pain refused to abate. She clutched her axe tightly, her knuckles whitening as the tears streamed unchecked down her face.

    As she reached the edge of the forest, the sorrow gave way to resolve. She wiped her face with her bloodstained gauntlet, smearing the grief across her cheek, and lifted her head. Despair would not claim her. If she failed now, she could still succeed later.

    Her thoughts shifted to Eryndor. Their clash had been brief but enlightening. His movements, his words¡ªthey carried the weight of honor. Aveline believed he wasn¡¯t beyond reach. If anyone could spark change within the cult, it was someone like him.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    As for Saria... Saria was lost. Aveline¡¯s grip on her axe tightened, her expression hardening. She couldn¡¯t leave Saria unchecked, not after what she had done. Aveline swore to herself that she would be the one to stop her, to bring justice for the lives consumed by her flames.

    First, she needed reinforcements. The Herald army, stationed near the Verdant Shroud''s edge since the beginning of the deathmatch, was waiting in case disaster struck. Aveline¡¯s pace quickened, determination fueling her every step. The world had not yet broken her. There was still work to do, still hope to cling to, and still battles to fight.

    Aveline¡¯s stride came to an abrupt halt as a chilling laughter echoed behind her. The sound sent a shiver up her spine, and she spun around to see a figure flying toward her. It was Arayn, his body moving as if gravity itself bowed to him.

    Her brow furrowed. Natural flight was a feat reserved for master-class practitioners¡ªthose above level 61¡ªor those who knew flying magic. She wondered if Arayn had learned a flying magic.

    ¡°Stay back!¡± Aveline demanded, gripping her axe tightly as she planted her feet firmly on the ground. ¡°What do you want?¡±

    Arayn halted midair, hovering effortlessly as a smirk spread across his face. ¡°What do I want? I want you to call your reinforcements.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°What are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°It''s okay to play fool and delay. You can also accompany me here. I excuse your presence because you intrigue me,¡± Arayn replied. He descended slightly, his piercing gaze locked on her. ¡°How did you become close with Eryndor? He, for all his self-righteousness, is an egoist. He loves asserting his ideals onto others. I am fascinated that he can earn your respect. That makes me curious about you. Why would a Herald of the Skyfather stoop so low as to work alongside that worm, Saria?¡±

    Aveline¡¯s grip on her axe tightened. She refused to answer, raising her weapon instead. Without hesitation, she swung it with all her might, releasing a slicing arc of mana that streaked through the air toward him.

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened as he ascended higher, evading the attack with ease. The slash dissipated harmlessly below him, leaving the trees swaying from the force. He looked down at her, his eyes glinting with amusement.

    ¡°How impudent. It seems,¡± he said, his voice carrying an almost playful tone, ¡°that I¡¯ll have to teach you a lesson.¡±

    Arayn raised his hand, summoning [Cursed Fangs] into existence above him. They hovered, ready to strike. But before he could unleash them, a radiant light engulfed the area. A surge of holy energy swept through, obliterating the fangs in an instant.

    The tiny fangs under his feet vanished as well, and he gradually fell from the air. Despite this, Arayn remained calm. He twisted slightly in midair, landing lightly on the ground.

    His attention shifted beyond Aveline, settling on two figures who had emerged from the treeline. They wore armor emblazoned with the Heralds of the Skyfather insignia.

    Arayn tilted his head slightly, his expression one of intrigue. ¡°My system can¡¯t discern their levels,¡± he remarked, his voice even. ¡°To dissipate my magic so effortlessly... It¡¯s clear these aren¡¯t ordinary knights.¡± He studied their postures, noting their presence. ¡°They¡¯re not just expert-class practitioners¡ªthey¡¯ve advanced further. These two are elite-class.¡±

    Among practitioners, reaching expert-class meant evolving one¡¯s initial class and surpassing level 21, gaining a new depth of power. But elite-class was a new tier of mastery and strength, attained upon reaching level 41 and completing a third class evolution. Those who reached this level were forces to be reckoned with, their abilities capable of overwhelming even dozens of expert-class opponents.

    More Heralds emerged from the forest, their presence growing like a tide. The field soon filled with countless soldiers clad in armor, their numbers easily surpassing one thousand. They formed ranks around Aveline and the two knights.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curved into a wide grin, his expression alight with an unsettling glee, as if he were gazing at a feast laid before him. His eyes darted to the soldiers¡¯ armor, noticing a distinct color¡ªdeep azure with silver streaks etched in the design. The markings signified their rank as Stormguard Soldiers, a force known to comprise of expert-class practitioners.

    Shifting his gaze, Arayn¡¯s attention returned to the two knights flanking Aveline. As he watched, the faint shimmer of concealment magic faded from their armor, revealing patterns of crimson and gold. These markings denoted their rank as Stormguard Captains, warriors who had ascended to elite class.

    Arayn¡¯s grin widened, a flicker of admiration in his voice as he spoke. ¡°Impressive. You¡¯ve brought the Stormguard to this little town, and not just the rank and file. Two captains as well.¡± He swept a hand in a theatrical gesture. ¡°It seems your faith has spared no effort. I must say, I¡¯m flattered by your seriousness.¡±

    He took a step forward. ¡°Tell me,¡± he called out, his voice carrying over the gathered soldiers, ¡°is this a declaration of war?¡±

    The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. Yet Arayn¡¯s expression remained unchanged, his excitement undiminished. To him, this was entertainment.

    The soldiers stomped their feet in unison, their voices rising in perfect harmony. "We have received your emergency call, Saintess!"

    Arayn stood calmly, his gaze settling on Aveline. His lips curved slightly as he addressed her. "Aveline Stormrend," he said, drawing her full name out slowly, savoring it. "Daughter of Duke Garrick Stormrend. Young Saintess of the Heralds of the Skyfather. The Ewe Lamb of Auron. The one capable of commanding the formidable Stormguard army."

    Aveline managed her breath, her chest rising and falling as she regained control. Her voice rang clear and unwavering as she spoke. "In Duskwatch Town, a blasphemous ritual is unfolding. The Crimson Sun Cult is slaughtering civilians indiscriminately to crown a new successor." She raised her hand, pointing at Arayn. "He is one of the successor candidates. The son of the High Sovereign of the Crimson Sun Cult."

    Aveline turned to her soldiers, her tone resolute as she commanded, "Save the town. Capture all the candidates. We end this madness now!"

    The army roared their approval, their morale surging as they responded in unison. Their battle cries echoed through the field.

 Chapter 22: Vortex of Mosquitoes

    Arayn smirked. "War it is. You heard them, Darius." He didn''t reach for a transmission tool, nor did he raise his voice. Yet he spoke as though certain his message would be received.

    "Understand, young master." The reply echoed from nowhere and everywhere all at once. The voice carried an eerie resonance, weaving through the air like a cold wind. It struck fear into the hearts of those who heard it, silencing murmurs among the soldiers.

    The two Stormguard Captains wasted no time. Shouting, they unleashed a radiant wave of power that washed over the battlefield, purging the oppressive fear. "[Sanctified Renewal]!" their voices rang out, and a divine aura enveloped the army, dispelling negative effects and restoring their morale.

    One of the captains stepped forward. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

    Arayn¡¯s laughter cut through the tension. "You want to challenge us to war, but you haven''t even taken the time to investigate your enemy? Are the Heralds of the Skyfather truly this stupid?"

    The insult was too much. The enraged captain vanished in an instant, reappearing behind Arayn in a burst of holy energy. "You¡¯re not even an expert class," the captain growled. "And yet you dare to run your mouth wild? Die!"

    The captain¡¯s hand surged with imbued aura as he swung it down at Arayn.

    Before the blow could land, the captain¡¯s body began to swell grotesquely, his flesh stretching as though something within him was expanding uncontrollably. His eyes widened in horror for a brief moment before his entire body burst apart, leaving nothing but a puddle of blood and viscera where he had stood.

    Arayn didn¡¯t flinch. Calmly, he unfurled a scroll, its edges glowing faintly with crimson light. As he opened the Soul Gathering Scroll, a spectral wisp rose from the bloody remains. With a flick of his hand, the scroll sucked the soul into its depth.

    "I guess even an elite-class practitioner counts as one soul. You are so stingy, Darius," Arayn said, his gaze sweeping over the stunned soldiers.

    Darius¡¯s voice resonated ominously through the battlefield. ¡°No one would expect a participant to collect expert-class souls, let alone elite-class ones. But don¡¯t worry, young master. Aren¡¯t there a lot of souls here to gather? I just counted... 1,500 expert classes and one elite class. Hmm.¡± His tone shifted into a mocking drawl. ¡°If I report that you were brave enough to confront them, perhaps the cult will reward you personally. Now, I¡¯m going to eliminate them after all. They¡¯re merely one percent of the Heralds¡¯ strength.¡±

    As his words faded, the sound of buzzing filled the air. Behind Arayn, a swarm of mosquitoes began to gather, swirling in a chaotic vortex. The buzzing grew louder, drowning out the soldiers¡¯ murmurs of fear. The vortex condensed, twisting and writhing, until it formed into a humanoid figure. From the writhing mass emerged Darius Vex, his crimson robes and sinister presence casting an oppressive aura over the battlefield.

    The soldiers recoiled at the sight, terror etched onto their faces. The second captain pointed a trembling finger at him, his voice hoarse as he shouted, ¡°Darius Vex! The Lord of Pestilence! What is the second strongest member of the Crimson Sun Cult doing here?¡±

    Darius tilted his head and grinned, his eyes glinting with malice. ¡°We¡¯re choosing a successor for the cult in this town. It wouldn¡¯t be proper if someone like me didn¡¯t oversee such an important ritual. After all, the future of our cult depends on this.¡±

    The captain¡¯s fear was quickly replaced with rage. He stepped forward, his holy aura flaring. ¡°You¡¯re violating the holder laws of Azrathar Continent! You¡¯re a master-class holder attacking someone below your realm! Every organization across Azrathar will unite to annihilate your cult for this treachery!¡±

    Darius and Arayn laughed in unison. When their laughter subsided, Darius turned his cold gaze to the captain. ¡°Young man, you¡¯re talking about laws to a crime organization. Also, it seems you¡¯re under a few misconceptions.¡±

    He raised a finger, as if educating a child. ¡°First, I didn¡¯t attack anyone unprovoked. Your friend struck first, breaking the very law you claim to uphold. As the judge of this ritual, it is my duty to ensure participants die only at the hands of those within their realm. I simply corrected his hypocrisy.¡±

    He raised a second finger, his grin widening to a predatory smile. ¡°Second, I¡¯m not here for negotiations or diplomacy. I¡¯m here to collect. I¡¯ll let one soul from your side live as a courtesy. So... pray to your god, Auron. Pray hard. Because your meaningless pleas will be His music as I slaughter each of you, one by one. Oh, my merciful Auron. I shall present their screams to you! I am such a faithful follower of the Skyfather, hahahaha!"If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    The captain extended his hand, summoning a brilliant magic circle glowing with divine radiance. A massive holy wall surged upward, forming a towering barrier between his soldiers and the impending doom. Turning to his men, he shouted with urgency, ¡°Priests! Conjure a mass teleportation circle! Save yourselves and your comrades! Go! Go now!¡±

    The soldiers scrambled to obey, their hands trembling as they began weaving the teleportation spell. But before they could complete it, the holy wall trembled, cracks spidering across its surface. In an instant, it shattered like fragile glass, raining shards of divine light that dissipated into nothingness.

    Beyond the remnants of the wall stood Darius, his staff raised high. Around its tip swirled a vortex of black energy. The vortex didn¡¯t pull or consume; instead, it seemed to nullify the very essence of magic, snuffing out every attempt at casting abilities.

    Then came the swarm. From beneath Darius¡¯s crimson robe poured forth a tide of mosquitoes. They surged across the battlefield, engulfing the Stormguard soldiers in a writhing cloud. For a moment, the screams of the soldiers were muffled as the swarm consumed them. Then, as quickly as they had emerged, the mosquitoes retreated, vanishing back under Darius¡¯s robe.

    What followed was pure horror. The soldiers writhed in agony as their bodies began to expand grotesquely. Skin stretched, veins bulged, and within moments, they exploded into a rain of blood and gore. The once-organized ranks of the Stormguard were reduced to lifeless carnage.

    Amid the chaos, Arayn unfurled his Soul Gathering Scroll, holding them aloft as the souls of the fallen flew to him. The scroll absorbed soul after soul, but when the count reached five hundred, Darius intervened.

    With a casual wave of his Ritual Lantern, Darius collected the remaining souls. The swirling energy of the souls flowed into the lantern, the light within its chamber glowing ominously. Darius turned to Arayn, a playful smirk on his lips. ¡°I can¡¯t let you have all the fun, young master. Sharing is only fair, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Darius¡¯s gaze flicked to Aveline, who stood frozen in place, her face pale and her breaths shallow. He then turned back to Arayn. ¡°That girl,¡± he said, his tone suddenly nonchalant, ¡°is a helper of Saria Kaelthara. So, I¡¯ll spare her. Not a strand of her hair has been harmed. What you do with her, however, is entirely up to you.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, he noticed Darius preparing to leave. ¡°Wait,¡± Arayn called out. ¡°Unlock my sword¡¯s hidden ability.¡±

    Darius paused, his expression amused. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll need to come to the manor for that,¡± he said lightly. ¡°I am not allowed to do everything here. Also, young master, this is likely the last time I can assist you as your backer. Anything more, and even I would risk raising suspicion. Offending Lord Sovereign is not on my agenda.¡±

    With those words, Darius turned into a vortex of mosquitoes before dispersing, leaving Arayn alone with the stunned and trembling Aveline.

    Arayn strode toward Aveline, who knelt amid the carnage, her body trembling with despair. He loomed over her. ¡°You¡¯re a warrior, aren¡¯t you? Don¡¯t tell me this is the first time you¡¯ve seen dead bodies.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with anger. ¡°This isn¡¯t war,¡± she spat. ¡°This is slaughter.¡±

    He tilted his head slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°There¡¯s no difference. The result is the same¡ªmountains of corpses.¡±

    Her fists clenched, her voice rising with defiance. ¡°In war, we fight for a purpose!¡±

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°And we did. We defended ourselves from you. We fought to protect.¡±

    Her words faltered, her anger dampened by the undeniable truth in his statement. But her resolve quickly reignited, and she snarled, ¡°You slaughtered innocent people!¡±

    Arayn chuckled. ¡°Not me,¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°That was your partner, Saria. And the fact that you failed to notice? That¡¯s partly your fault, too. You supported her.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Aveline screamed, clutching at her blonde hair. Her voice cracked with anguish. ¡°I didn¡¯t agree to this!¡±

    He crouched slightly, meeting her gaze, his expression dripping with mockery. ¡°So why did you decide to support her in the first place?¡±

    Her lips quivered, and her voice was barely audible as she replied, ¡°We promised to change the world. She said she wanted the cult to be accepted¡­ by everyone.¡±

    Arayn barked out a harsh laugh. ¡°And you believed her? She deceived you, and you fell for it. How could you be so naive, so¡­ blind? You¡¯re a fool. A clown.¡±

    Her face crumpled, her sorrow deepening with his every word. Tears welled in her emerald eyes as she murmured, ¡°All of you¡­ everyone from the cult¡­ you¡¯re all the same.¡±

    Arayn straightened, his tone turning colder. ¡°Your despair is your burden to bear, but if you think you¡¯re so different, why don¡¯t you prove it?¡± He gestured to the burning town in the distance. ¡°As Saria¡¯s former ally, isn¡¯t it your duty to stop her? To put an end to her deeds? It¡¯s the least you can do to atone for your sin of ignorance.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s despair melted away as a spark of clarity ignited within her. She lifted her head, her emerald eyes now brimming with determination. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward the distant town, the fires of resolve burning brightly within her.

    But just as she stepped forward, Arayn unsheathed the sword at his waist, its point aimed directly at her chest.

    Startled, Aveline halted and stared at him. ¡°You told me to face her,¡± she said.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he replied. ¡°But you intrigue me.¡± He gestured toward her with the blade, his eyes narrowing. ¡°A noble lady with a purpose to stop evil, and then there¡¯s me¡ªthe one who stands in the way. Doesn¡¯t that sound entertaining?¡±

    Aveline¡¯s jaw tightened as his words sank in.

    ¡°So,¡± Arayn continued, his tone turning cold, ¡°prepare yourself. If you want to go, you¡¯ll have to defeat me first.¡±

 Chapter 23: Arayn vs Aveline

    Aveline glared at Arayn. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for your jokes,¡± she snapped, gripping her axe. She inhaled to speak again, ¡°Box of¡ª¡±

    Before she could finish, Arayn vanished, using [Demonic Step] to close the gap between them in an instant. His sword swung toward her in an arc, but her axe met it in a resounding clash. Sparks flew as the blades connected. Leaning forward, his face just inches from hers, Arayn¡¯s voice dropped to a menacing whisper. ¡°I¡¯m serious. If you can¡¯t defeat me, I¡¯ll kill you.¡±

    Aveline shoved him back with all her strength. Arayn somersaulted gracefully, twisting midair as dark energy coalesced around him. ¡°[Cursed Fangs],¡± he intoned, releasing a volley of shadowy projectiles.

    Reacting quickly, Aveline spun her axe and roared, "[Storm''s Wrath]," conjuring a whirlwind that collided with the fangs. The resulting explosion sent shockwaves rippling through the air. From the heart of the blast, Arayn surged forward, his sword slicing through the smoke. Aveline met him again, their weapons clashing repeatedly in a series of rapid strikes.

    Arayn pressed his assault relentlessly, forcing Aveline to parry each blow. He gave her no opening to counterattack, keeping her too occupied to say her abilities. But it became clear that despite his aggression, she held the upper hand.

    With a powerful block, Aveline deflected his sword, creating just enough of a delay to disrupt his rhythm. Taking the opportunity, she slashed the ground with her axe, sending up a cloud of dust. Using the cover, she activated [Riftbreaker Acceleration], launching herself high into the air.

    Arayn reacted quickly, hurling his sword toward her. Aveline twisted mid-flight, intercepting the blade with her axe. The weapons collided, but she maintained her momentum. As she descended, he unleashed another wave of [Cursed Fangs]. Thinking fast, Aveline summoned a second whirlwind to neutralize the attack, landing gracefully amidst the chaos.

    Her senses flared. Something moved within the lingering smoke from the explosion. She swung her axe instinctively, intercepting another of Arayn¡¯s fangs. The projectile detonated on impact, creating a brief explosion.

    Arayn descended from above, and Aveline noticed at the last moment. She leapt back, but not before his blade grazed her shoulder, leaving a bleeding wound. She winced but maintained her composure, using the distance she gained to regain control.

    ¡°[Storm¡¯s Wrath]!¡± she shouted, swinging her axe with ferocity. A massive whirlwind roared toward Arayn, tearing through the ground as it advanced.

    Arayn raised his sword to block, bracing himself against the storm. The force of the whirlwind pushed him back, his boots skidding against the dirt. Though he resisted, the attack left him momentarily vulnerable, giving Aveline a chance to catch her breath.

    Aveline whispered, "[Box of Providence]," and a glowing box formed above her, spilling rainbow light. The brilliance showered her, wrapping her in a protective aura. Then, a system message appeared, listing the buffs.

    [Fortified Aegis]

    [Sanctuary Ward]

    [Blessed Strike]

    [Divine Swiftness]

    [Vital Bloom]

    [Mystic Flow]

    Arayn stumbled, blood dripping from his mouth, which he wiped away softly. Despite his wounds, his expression remained composed, his eyes fixed on the light surrounding Aveline.

    He couldn''t stop her. The [Box of Providence], the Storm Saintess class''s unique ability, was now active. Its buffs, unmatched in quality, would turn the tide. Arayn smirked, knowing full well how dire the situation had become. Even so, he felt exhilarated.

    Arayn unleashed a volley of [Cursed Fangs], crimson projectiles streaking toward Aveline. However, her [Storm''s Wrath] summoned a roaring whirlwind that shredded them to nothing before they could even reach her. She shifted into motion, her footwork ability propelling her forward in a blur.

    Closing the gap, she swung her axe in a devastating arc. Arayn raised his sword just in time to block, but the force behind her blow sent a numbing shock up his arm, making his hand tremble and weaken.

    Gritting his teeth, Arayn let his [Demonic Aura] pour forth, a shadowy shroud radiating malevolence. Yet, the holy light surrounding Aveline pushed back against it, leaving his aura struggling to take hold. She swung again, her strike fueled by raw strength, but Arayn narrowly sidestepped, feeling the air sharpening where her weapon cleaved.

    In a split second, Arayn swung his sword. Aveline''s eyes followed the movement, her guard momentarily drawn to the blade. He let go of the sword mid-motion, letting it fall, and with his free hand, he touched her armor.

    "[Soul Rend]," he muttered, and dark tendrils erupted from his palm, writhing with hunger as they sought to pierce her. The tendrils struck her holy aura, clashing violently. Though they failed to reach her, they tore apart the radiant shield at the cost of their existence.Stolen novel; please report.

    Realizing the danger, Aveline leaped back, putting distance between them. Both stood still for a moment, their chests heaving with ragged breaths.

    Arayn retrieved his sword, twirling it once before pointing the blade toward Aveline. A faint smile crept across his face as his gaze settled on her. "As expected," he mused, almost to himself. "You resisted [Soul Rend]."

    The corners of his lips curled upward as he thought about the power he wielded. [Soul Rend] was his trump card, the ability that gave him an edge over his peers. It wasn¡¯t just a weapon of physical destruction¡ªit tore into the very essence of his enemies, inflicting soul damage. That was what made it so terrifying. Most first-class holders lacked any defense against attacks on their soul, and their spiritual strength was brittle. One clean hit from [Soul Rend] was enough to reduce many to lifeless husks.

    Aveline wasn¡¯t just anyone.

    The Storm Saintess class she possessed included the [Box of Providence], a unique and versatile ability. With it, she could store a record of blessings, buffs, and protections, pulling them forth as needed. Among them, soul protection could be easily deployed, a countermeasure against Arayn''s most lethal tool. What made [Box of Providence] even more infuriating was its low mana cost. This one allowed Aveline to maintain her defenses with minimal effort.

    The Saintess was uniquely equipped to withstand his strongest attacks, her class a perfect nemesis to his. However, that only made his grin widen. The thrill of a true test stirred within him.

    Aveline''s hand hovered briefly in the air before her palm glowed with a soft radiance. "[Box of Providence]," she intoned as another shiny box appeared out of thin air. A faint shimmer enveloped her, layers of divine protection and enhancements stacking upon one another.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed, watching the aura around her intensify. He clenched his sword tighter. If she kept replenishing and accumulating buffs, the tide of this battle could shift in her favor. The potential she displayed was undeniable¡ªshe could even challenge Eryndor, whose enhancement ability was nothing short of monstrous. Arayn couldn''t afford to let her momentum build any further.

    "This ends now," he muttered. Without hesitation, he activated [Dark Pact]. A surge of dark power coursed through his body, filling his limbs with newfound strength. The sensation was intoxicating, but the price was steep¡ªlife force, measured in years, drained away.

    In the depths of his mind, a message surfaced. He had ten years left, but with the activation of [Dark Pact], that number dwindled to nine. However, it didn¡¯t deter him.

    Power always demanded sacrifice, and Arayn was no stranger to the trade. This was the demonic path. There would come a future where he didn''t have to worry about such cost. For now, he would embrace any sacrifice required.

    A smile crossed his face as the energy from the pact coiled around him like a living shadow. Even against his nemesis, this strength would tip the scales. "Let¡¯s see how divine blessings fare against malevolent demonic force."

    Arayn vanished in a blur, his figure reappearing directly in front of Aveline as he activated [Demonic Step]. His sword met her axe, but this time, he felt no strain in his arms. The dark power coursing through him from [Dark Pact] granted him strength far beyond his limit. With a push, he forced her back, her boots skidding against the ground.

    He followed up with a strike, his blade cutting through her defenses and slashing her breastplate. The sharp screech of metal tearing filled the air as a portion of her armor fell away, exposing her beneath. Aveline staggered back, her eyes widening in disbelief as she touched the edge of her damaged armor.

    Her shock was short-lived. Arayn unleashed [Soul Rend], and dark tendrils erupted from his hand, snaking through the air toward her. They collided with the holy aura encasing her, ripping through it like paper. The divine protection shattered in a burst of light, leaving her vulnerable.

    Aveline gritted her teeth, her instincts taking over. "[Riftbreaker Acceleration]!" she shouted, her form blurring as she leaped backward, her speed enhanced to escape the onslaught. But Arayn was relentless. With another [Demonic Step], he closed the gap.

    Their weapons clashed again, sparks flying as sword met axe. Both moved with blinding speed, their strikes leaving deep gouges in the ground as they dashed across the battlefield.

    Aveline''s determination burned in her eyes, but Arayn¡¯s dark energy surged with ferocity. He pressed her harder, his relentless attacks pushing her closer to the brink.

    Aveline called out, "[Box of Providence]!" but before the blessings could descend upon her, Arayn¡¯s [Soul Rend] lashed out with tendrils of darkness. The box shattered in a burst of holy light, the blessings dissipating into nothingness.

    Her patience frayed, Aveline had enough of being cornered. She raised her axe high and invoked her trump card, "[Miracle Resurgence]." A brilliant golden aura erupted from her, radiating an overwhelming force that pushed Arayn back several steps. The ground beneath her feet cracked as the divine energy surged around her, and her presence became almost blinding.

    As the distance widened, Aveline concentrated, gathering golden mana into her axe. The weapon began to glow with an intensity that rivaled the sun. Arayn¡¯s instincts flared, sensing the immense danger she was about to unleash. Without hesitation, he summoned dozens of [Cursed Fangs], sending the crimson projectiles hurtling toward her.

    "[Haven''s Gale]!" she roared, swinging her axe in a wide arc. A torrent of golden energy burst forth, obliterating the fangs in an instant. The divine gale tore through the air, surging toward Arayn with devastating force.

    He raised his demonic sword, bracing himself. The gale slammed into him, forcing him backward despite his efforts. The sheer power made his arms tremble, but his expression remained calm. He began to mutter, "Zhrak''val Dhurnak. Kral''shiv zuul''ahk thyr. Ek nash''vothrak dul''ehraan vahn orai''kh suln''athar."

    Every ability¡¯s form was fixed by nature, but with his unique [Ancient Demon Language] ability, Arayn could manipulate and reshape his demonic powers. This time, he applied it to his ability [Zhrak''val Dhurnak], or [Dark Pact] in the common tongue. By adding a verse in the ancient tongue, he extended the terms of the ability, drastically increasing its power. The cost, however, was immense¡ªnearly all of his remaining life force was consumed, leaving him with only a single day to live. In return, his strength surged, elevating him to a level that rivaled expert-class holders.

    The dark aura around him exploded outward, suffocating the air with its oppressive weight. His eyes glowed with crimson light as he spoke again, "Vaa''thrak, nek''thal vorak suul drak''mar."

    Dark-crimson energy coalesced around his blade, crackling violently as he gathered his strength. With a swing, he unleashed a massive arc of malevolent energy. The dark-crimson slash roared forward, colliding with Aveline''s [Haven''s Gale].

    The battlefield trembled as the two forces met. Golden light clashed with demonic energy, creating a storm of power that surged outward, shattering the ground and filling the air with deafening roars. Both combatants stood firm, their eyes locked, as their abilities vied for dominance.

 Chapter 24: Little Star

    Little Aveline leaned against the cool marble railing of her balcony, her small hands gripping its edge as she peered down at the lively festival below. The streets were alive with the sound of music and laughter. Lanterns swayed gently in the evening breeze, their golden light illuminating the joyful faces of the townsfolk.

    Behind her, footsteps approached, soft against the polished floor. Before she could turn, strong arms wrapped around her in a warm hug.

    ¡°And why is the birthday princess sneaking out of her own party?¡± Garrick Stormrend¡¯s deep voice rumbled, amusement lacing his words.

    Aveline giggled, leaning into his embrace. ¡°Aveline wanted to see the festival,¡± she said, pointing toward the bustling streets. ¡°Look, Papa! Everyone is smiling and laughing. Aveline loves to see them happy.¡±

    Her father chuckled, resting his chin gently on her head. ¡°They¡¯re celebrating your birthday, my little star. You¡¯re the reason for their smiles tonight.¡±

    Aveline tilted her head, her curious eyes meeting his. ¡°Do people in other cities also smile because it¡¯s Aveline¡¯s birthday?¡±

    Garrick¡¯s expression softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his gaze. ¡°In our lands, yes. But beyond these borders¡­¡± He hesitated, then sighed. ¡°Not everyone is so lucky, my dear. Some people suffer because they don¡¯t have good lords to care for them.¡±

    ¡°Why are they not happy, Papa?¡±

    ¡°They live under the rule of bad people. People who bring pain to others to feel happy and productive. That¡¯s what we call evil, Aveline.¡±

    She frowned, her little hands clenching the railing. ¡°Aveline doesn¡¯t like that. Aveline wants to make people happy, especially the ones who have no chance to be happy.¡±

    Garrick laughed. He turned her to face him and cupped her cheek gently. ¡°You can be anything you want to be, my little star. But remember, you don¡¯t have to take on the world. You can just enjoy your life.¡±

    Aveline shook her head, determination shining in her eyes. ¡°Aveline is happy, Papa. That¡¯s why Aveline wants to help good people smile too.¡±

    His smile deepened, pride mingling with affection as he kissed her cheek. ¡°Then I¡¯ll support you, my little star. Always.¡±

    They stood there together for a while longer, watching the festival below, the laughter and music carrying into the night.

    ---

    Arayn''s attack overpowered hers, the dark-crimson arc cleaving through the golden gale and striking her with brutal force. Aveline staggered backward, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as the wound tore deep into her side. Blood poured from the gash, pooling at her knees as she fell, trembling and pale.

    She raised her trembling hand, whispering a healing verse. "Celestara, the Guiding Star, mend my body, renew my spirit¡ª[Stardust Renewal]." But the chant fizzled out; her mana was completely depleted.

    She looked up at Arayn as he strode toward her, his calm presence looming. Her voice was calm despite her trembling form. "Kill me."

    Arayn tilted his head, studying her with mild amusement. "Don''t be so hasty," he replied. "Did you know? I''ve used a forbidden ability to diminish my lifespan. Most of it, actually." His lips curved into a faint smile. "But it was worth it. This fight, Aveline, has been exhilarating."

    Aveline''s face remained stoic, her eyes reflecting resignation rather than fear. "There¡¯s so much I still wanted to do," she murmured. "But if this is my fate, then so be it."

    Arayn nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Before I end this," he said, "tell me¡ªwhat is your ultimate purpose in life?"

    She hesitated, glancing down at the crimson-stained ground. "I¡¯ve been blessed with love, kindness, and the people around me," she said quietly. "I wanted others to feel that same blessing, to live in its light."

    Arayn regarded her in silence for a moment before speaking. "I see," he murmured. "Your origin is ''bless.'' You''ve lived true to it, Aveline." He knelt slightly, leveling his gaze with hers. "Take pride in that." Rising to his full height, he pointed his sword at her. "Do you have any last words?"

    Her eyes softened as she met his gaze. "What about you?" she asked. "What¡¯s your purpose?"

    He chuckled softly, a sound devoid of malice. "I want to enjoy all the beautiful things in this world."

    She frowned faintly. "In what way? The town was beautiful before Saria burned it, but you didn¡¯t seem to feel remorse seeing it destroyed."

    Arayn sighed, shaking his head. "You misunderstand," he said. "I don¡¯t find beauty in places or objects. I find it in two things. Demonic power and living beings¡ªthose who remain true to their unwavering origins. I enjoy seeing the conclusions of their paths, however they end."

    Her gaze grew sharp. "Even if their origins are evil?"

    "What you call evil is something they didn¡¯t choose. To reject their origin is to reject their very existence. And that, I find abhorrent."

    Aveline closed her eyes, a faint sigh escaping her lips. "As expected, I can¡¯t see the world through your eyes," she murmured. "I have nothing more to say. End it."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Arayn''s gaze softened briefly as he looked at the kneeling Aveline. "I won¡¯t forget you," he said. He raised his sword, preparing to end her suffering, but a sudden blur of motion interrupted him.

    A massive werewolf burst from thin air, lunging at Arayn with fangs bared and claws outstretched. Reflexively, Arayn stepped back, narrowly dodging the beast''s pounce. The werewolf snarled, seizing Aveline by her bloodied armor, and darted away with inhuman speed.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed in anger. "Stealing my prey? How bold." With a growl of frustration, he activated [Demonic Step], his form blurring as he pursued the creature.

    The werewolf skidded to a halt moments later, tossing Aveline aside like a discarded doll. As her body hit the ground, it shimmered and then vanished into thin air.

    Arayn halted abruptly, his rage flaring. "Impudent Worm!" he spat, his blade flashing as he swung at the werewolf. The strike was precise, severing the creature¡¯s arm in a clean arc.

    Blood sprayed, but the werewolf didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he straightened, locking his piercing, lupine eyes with Arayn¡¯s. Its voice was deep and gravelly as it growled, "Too late. You can''t catch us."

    Mist began to seep into the air, swirling and thickening around them.

    Arayn scowled, sheathing his fury behind a cold smirk. "Fine, I¡¯ll let you go for now. Tell me your name, Servant of Lyssa Morgaine."

    The werewolf¡¯s glowing eyes narrowed. "Thalric," he said.

    Arayn''s smirk widened into something darker. "Thalric," he echoed, tasting the name. "I¡¯ll remember it. I swear, I¡¯ll kill you in front of Lyssa herself."

    Thalric said nothing more. The mist thickened, obscuring everything, and when it finally cleared, the werewolf was gone.

    Arayn sighed, lowering his sword as the last wisps of mist faded into the air. "What a way to kill my fun," he muttered, irritation flickering in his tone. He glanced at the empty spot where Aveline had disappeared, his lips curving into a wry smirk.

    Then, a soft chime echoed in his mind as a translucent status window appeared before him. His eyes scanned the details, and his smirk deepened into a satisfied smile. Two of his abilities had ranked up from the battle.

    [Your Demonic Aura''s rank has increased C -> B]

    [Your Demonic Step''s rank has increased D -> C]

    "Well," he muttered to himself. "I guess keeping her alive is also fine. I can have fun with her again later."

    Without sparing another glance at the forest, Arayn turned on his heel and began walking back toward the burning town.

    ---

    In the heart of the forest, Aveline lay weakly on the ground, her breaths shallow and labored. Beside her knelt Lyssa, her hands fumbling through her bag in search of a healing potion. Frustration flashed across Lyssa''s face as she pulled out only a mana potion.

    Aveline¡¯s voice broke the silence. ¡°If you want to treat me... giving me a mana potion is fine too.¡±

    Lyssa hesitated before nodding, uncorking the potion and gently helping Aveline drink it. The blue liquid coursed through her, restoring her dwindling energy. With her strength returning, Aveline raised her trembling hands and began to chant softly. A soft glow enveloped her, and her wounds started to knit themselves closed under the soothing warmth of her healing magic.

    Once the light faded, Aveline took a deep breath and looked up at Lyssa. ¡°Thank you, but why help me?¡±

    Lyssa¡¯s gaze flickered with uncertainty before she admitted, ¡°I felt pity. Saria betraying you like that... it didn¡¯t sit right with me.¡±

    Thalric, standing nearby with his arms crossed, scoffed. ¡°Healing her was a mistake,¡± he said bluntly. ¡°She¡¯s just going to get in your way.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Aveline said, meeting Thalric¡¯s gaze. ¡°As long as civilians are hurt, I won¡¯t stop interfering. But...¡± She shifted her gaze back to Lyssa, her eyes softening. ¡°I owe you for helping me. I¡¯ll repay this debt. Later.¡±

    "Miss... w-would you join me?" Lyssa asked nervously.

    Aveline''s eyes narrowed, skepticism flickering in her gaze. "Why should I? What¡¯s stopping you from betraying me the moment it benefits you?"

    Lyssa met Aveline''s gaze with determination. "To ensure that doesn¡¯t happen, I¡¯m willing to form a magic contract with you."

    Thalric¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "A Geass Scroll?" he blurted. "Master, those are ridiculously expensive! And it will bind your soul. It¡¯s a waste to use it for her!"

    Aveline¡¯s curiosity piqued. "What is this Geass Scroll?"

    Lyssa glanced at her companion, then back at Aveline. "It¡¯s a magic contract commonly used by the elites in the cult. People in the cult are always wary of betrayal, but once they form a Geass contract, they¡¯re bound by it. Breaking it would destroy their soul."

    Aveline frowned. "And you just happen to have one of those?"

    Lyssa nodded hesitantly, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her expression. "I do. I¡¯m probably the weakest participant in this deathmatch. That¡¯s why I¡¯ve prepared... a lot of things to increase my chances," she admitted.

    Aveline studied her carefully. "Why are you participating in this deathmatch in the first place?"

    Lyssa sighed, her expression darkening. "I was forced into it. My family probably doesn¡¯t expect me to win. Even if I lose, my participation will raise their status. That¡¯s all they care about. I... I want to prove them wrong."

    Aveline¡¯s gaze softened, but her tone remained firm. "And what will you do if you win?"

    Lyssa¡¯s eyes drifted to the ground as she spoke. "I don¡¯t know yet. One thing is certain¡ªI just want to live my life like a normal girl. No more cults, no more schemes. Just... peace."

    Aveline¡¯s expression darkened. "Would you sacrifice innocent lives to achieve that goal?"

    Lyssa¡¯s head shot up, and she immediately shook her head. "Never! I know what it¡¯s like to be pulled into something you don¡¯t want, to have no choice. I wouldn¡¯t wish that on anyone."

    Aveline held her gaze for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Alright. I¡¯ll help you. However, if you harm any innocent life, I will kill you."

    Relief washed over Lyssa¡¯s face as she extended a hand to Aveline. "You won¡¯t. The Geass will destroy my soul if I do that."

    Aveline nodded. "Take out the Geass scroll."

    Lyssa nodded, reaching into her bag. She retrieved a rolled-up parchment and unfurled it, revealing a blank surface. "It¡¯s empty," she explained. "The Geass must be written with blood."

    An awkward smile appeared on Lyssa¡¯s face as she glanced at Aveline¡¯s torn and bloodied outfit. "Sorry about this," she murmured, smearing her hand across the wet blood staining the fabric. With her fingers coated in crimson, she knelt and began inscribing the content of the contract onto the scroll.

    Once she finished, Lyssa held the scroll up for Aveline to see. "This looks good, right?"

    Aveline scanned the content and nodded. "It¡¯s good enough."

    Lyssa sighed in relief. "Alright. To finalize it, we need to sign it with blood while reciting the spell." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small dagger. With a wince, she lightly grazed her thumb, drawing fresh blood, then pressed her thumb to the scroll.

    As crimson stained the parchment, Lyssa closed her eyes and began to chant,

    "By blood, we bind. By will, we seal. Through pact, our souls entwined. Let fate bear witness to this unbreakable vow."

    She opened her eyes, nodding toward Aveline. "Your turn."

    Aveline recited the chant,

    "By blood, we bind. By will, we seal. Through pact, our souls entwined. Let fate bear witness to this unbreakable vow."

    The scroll began to glow, rising into the air between them. Arcane symbols danced along its edges, and a radiant magic circle surrounded each of the girls. The light intensified before fading into their skin, marking the contract''s completion.

    "It¡¯s done," Lyssa said, "Now, we¡¯re bound to the pact."

 Chapter 25: Unlocking Abilities

    Arayn returned to Valtheran¡¯s manor and made his way to Darius''s office. As he entered, Darius looked up, his expression shifting to one of surprise. ¡°I only stepped away for a moment, and now you¡¯ve returned shrouded in a deathly aura. Seems like you only have one day left,¡± Darius said, leaning back in his chair.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze was calm. ¡°It¡¯s a fitting price for defeating Aveline.¡±

    Darius raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ¡°So, you defeated her. Impressive. Did you kill her?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Arayn replied. ¡°Someone intervened and saved her.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Darius murmured, his amusement lingering. ¡°Even so, you managed to best her. Aveline is one of the most talented new generation prodigies in Varondale kingdom. You truly are formidable, young master.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a given,¡± Arayn said without hesitation. Then, shifting the topic, he added, ¡°I¡¯ve come to trade the souls I¡¯ve gathered. I want to unlock new abilities for my demonic sword.¡±

    Darius nodded thoughtfully. ¡°The cost for one ability is 100 souls, but the next unlock will be double that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll unlock two,¡± Arayn said flatly.

    Darius adjusted his spectacles, calculating quickly. ¡°That will cost 300 souls.¡±

    Without a word, Arayn unfurled his Soul Gathering Scroll. A spectral glow filled the room as the captured souls spiraled out, flowing into the Ritual Lantern on Darius''s desk. The lantern pulsed with an eerie light as it absorbed the souls.

    Darius coughed softly, a wry smile on his face. ¡°You¡¯re exceptionally generous, young master. I thought you might haggle, considering these aren¡¯t ordinary souls.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. ¡°Ordinary or expert, they¡¯re all the same to me if I don¡¯t know them. Besides, I see no need to bargain when Alice will hear about this and ensure you compensate me properly.¡±

    A bead of sweat trickled down Darius¡¯s temple at the mention of Alice. ¡°You¡¯re absolutely right,¡± he said quickly. ¡°She¡¯d have my head if I didn¡¯t treat you fairly, hahaha. Rest assured, you¡¯ll receive your due once the deathmatch is complete.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Arayn said. ¡°Now, let¡¯s unlock my sword¡¯s abilities.¡±

    Darius nodded, already preparing the ritual, drawing a magic circle on the floor and pushing an altar on it. After that, he placed a different ritual lantern on the altar.

    Arayn placed Malzareth on the ritual altar. Darius stepped forward, his hands already tracing sigils in the air. A hum of energy crackled around him, filling the room with its noise.

    Darius reached for two vials of crimson liquid. He poured those slowly onto the blade, the liquid hissing and steaming as it made contact with the cursed steel. The sword seemed to drink it in, and runes appeared in the metal.

    "Hold steady," Darius muttered, glancing briefly at Arayn before returning his focus to the blade.

    He began to chant, ¡°Adfer animas damnatas, imple hoc ferrum potentia obscura. Aperi viam ad virtutem in aeternum!¡± Each word echoed through the chamber, carrying a weight that seemed to press against the walls.

    As he spoke, the second Ritual Lantern he had prepared on the altar flared to life, spilling its captured souls into the room.

    Wisps of translucent figures swirled around the altar, their faces twisting in silent screams as they were drawn toward Malzareth. The sword pulsed, its dark aura expanding outward like crashing waves upon a shore.

    Darius extended his hands over the weapon, his fingers trembling as the energy grew wilder. ¡°Descendat umbrae, et rursus resurgetis in ferro aeterno! Concede vim et dominatum!¡± Sparks erupted from the runes in the metal, arcing into the air and leaving scorch marks on the stone walls. The room trembled faintly, as if the manor itself recoiled from the power being unleashed.

    With a final, shouted incantation, ¡°Fiat voluntas tenebris! Nunc completum est!¡± Darius clapped his hands together, and the swirling souls surged into Malzareth. The blade glowed a fierce crimson for a heartbeat, then dulled, its runes now faintly smoldering like embers.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Darius let out a sharp breath, stepping back as he wiped the sweat from his brow. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said, his voice hoarse. ¡°Malzareth has claimed its new power.¡±

    Arayn stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the sword. He reached out and gripped its hilt, the weapon feeling alive in his hand. A faint smile crossed his lips. ¡°Good. I really like its abilities.¡±

    [Name: Malzareth

    Type: Demonic Artifact

    Grade: Magic

    Abilities:

    1. Soul Absorption (D): The blade devours the souls of fallen enemies, converting them essence into life force.

    2. Soul Rend (B): A devastating strike that tears through both the physical body and the enemy''s soul.]

    Malzareth was no ordinary weapon. As a demonic artifact, it possessed the unique potential to awaken a soul of its own after prolonged and frequent use. When that time came, the wielder could perform a soul-binding ritual, unlocking the artifact¡¯s full potential and elevating its power to match that of its master. For Arayn, it was simply a matter of wielding Malzareth often enough.

    Arayn examined Malzareth further. [Soul Absorption (D)] allowed him to absorb the souls of class holders, those who had yet to reach the expert level.

    When he wielded the sword in his hand, his [Soul Rend] ability fused with the sword''s, temporarily increasing its rank to B+.

    Satisfied, he sheathed the blade, its dark aura dimming as it slid into its scabbard. ¡°I want to buy a primordial crystal containing Demonic Acolyte class and four catalysts to awaken it,¡± he said.

    Darius watched Arayn with curiosity, his gaze sharpening. "Did you buy it for your disciple?" he asked.

    Arayn gave a short nod. "Yes."

    Darius''s eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I didn¡¯t know you were serious about raising a disciple." His tone held a hint of amusement, as though he had never pegged Arayn for a mentor.

    Arayn shrugged, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "I do it for my entertainment."

    Darius gave a knowing nod, the subject shifting. "The primordial crystal and four catalysts cost 100 souls," he said.

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained impassive as he spoke, "I want an Infernal Codex, containing [Infernal Aegis] ability."

    Darius didn¡¯t hesitate. "That will cost 100 souls as well. The total is 200."

    Arayn unfurled the Soul Gathering Scroll, allowing the souls within to flow. The souls drifted and entered the Soul Lantern on Darius''s desk with a soft hiss.

    "With that, I have no soul left."

    Darius prepared a small box and handed it to Arayn. "All the things you need are in here , young master."

    Arayn grasped the box, nodding once in acknowledgment.

    "I¡¯ll be going now," Arayn said, turning toward the door.

    Darius bowed deeply, his hands clasped in front of him. ¡°I understand you¡¯re busy, young master,¡± he said with a respectful nod. ¡°Take care out there.¡±

    Arayn entered Alice''s room without a word, his presence immediately drawing attention. Alice was seated at her desk, guiding Soren through an ancient tome. As the door creaked open, both of them turned their heads toward him.

    ¡°Master!¡± Soren greeted him enthusiastically, standing up from his chair with a wide smile.

    Alice¡¯s sharp eyes studied Arayn for a moment before narrowing. ¡°Oh,¡± she said with a knowing tone, ¡°you only have one day left, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Soren blinked in confusion, glancing between the two. ¡°Is Master going to die?¡± he asked.

    Arayn snorted, his tone dripping with disdain. ¡°Foolish Worm. I¡¯m going to live forever.¡±

    Shifting the focus, Arayn gestured toward the book on the table. ¡°Has he learned the basics of the cult?¡±

    Alice nodded. ¡°He has,¡± she replied, closing the tome. ¡°If you don''t believe me, let¡¯s test him.¡± She turned to Soren, her voice taking on a stern edge. ¡°Tell me, how was the Crimson Sun founded?¡±

    Soren straightened, his expression growing serious as he recited, ¡°The Crimson Sun was founded by Lord Azael Crimsonstar, who sought to transcend mortality through demonic power. After his ascension, he passed the mantle of Sovereignty to his adopted son, Lord Malrik Azael.¡±

    Arayn nodded in approval. ¡°That¡¯s enough. I believe in both of you.¡±

    Soren¡¯s face lit up at the praise, but before he could respond, Arayn added, ¡°As a reward, I¡¯ll awaken your class.¡±

    Soren¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. ¡°Really, Master? I¡¯m going to have a class?¡±

    Alice¡¯s expression mirrored his excitement, her voice rising slightly. ¡°What class have you prepared for him, Arayn?¡±

    Arayn placed the small box from Darius on the table. He opened the lid to reveal a glowing primordial crystal and four catalysts, each radiating faint, eerie energy. The items seemed alive, exuding an ominous power that lingered in the room.

    Alice¡¯s expression turned sour as her gaze landed on the contents. ¡°Demonic Acolyte? You¡¯re actually giving him that class?¡± she said, her voice sharp with disapproval.

    Arayn smirked, his focus shifting to Soren. ¡°Do you even understand what it means to become a Demonic Acolyte?¡±

    Soren straightened slightly, recalling his studies under Alice. ¡°The Demonic Acolyte is considered the best first class in the cult,¡± he replied confidently. ¡°It allows the user to form contracts with demons, granting access to some of the most powerful magic-grade abilities. It¡¯s one of the strongest starting classes on the continent. But,¡± he hesitated for a moment, ¡°it also comes with a condition. After a year, the holder must survive either a death mission or a deathmatch ritual.¡±

    Alice crossed her arms, frowning. ¡°It¡¯s reckless. There are plenty of other strong classes in the cult that could make him an expert. He doesn¡¯t need to risk his life like this.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s gaze sharpened. ¡°My disciple won¡¯t settle for mediocrity. If he¡¯s to achieve greatness, taking risks is non-negotiable.¡±

    Soren lifted his chin, determination burning in his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for this chance, Master Arayn,¡± he said firmly. ¡°I¡¯ll take the class, no matter the risks.¡±

    Arayn nodded in approval, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. ¡°Good. That determination will take you far.¡±

    Alice sighed, shaking her head in frustration. ¡°Alright, but don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡±

 Chapter 26: Four Demon Factions

    Arayn and Soren stepped into the depths of the Verdant Shroud forest. Towering trees loomed around them, casting long shadows across the forest floor.

    Soren glanced at the familiar surroundings and smiled faintly. ¡°This is where I first met you, Master Arayn. I¡¯m glad we did,¡± he said earnestly.

    Arayn, leading the way, didn¡¯t turn. ¡°If you still have energy to reminisce, save it,¡± he said curtly. ¡°You¡¯ll need your energy. We¡¯re about to summon demons.¡±

    Soren quickened his steps to walk alongside him. ¡°Master, how many abilities did you get after your class awakening?¡±

    ¡°I used to have seven,¡± Arayn replied without breaking stride.

    ¡°Used to?¡± Soren tilted his head. ¡°Did you lose those abilities?¡±

    Arayn glanced at him, his expression unreadable. ¡°I traded six of them. In exchange, I gained something far better.¡±

    Before Soren could press further, they arrived at a clearing. Arayn stopped and surveyed the area, then knelt to begin his preparations.

    He pulled a pouch from his coat and spread the ash of a magical beast across the ground, drawing a perfect square. Around it, he carefully etched a large pentagram.

    From his satchel, he retrieved a compass¡ªthe first catalyst¡ªand placed it in the center of the square. Then, he produced a worn book, its leather cover cracked and faded. The pages contained the coordinates of demons who frequently traded with the cult.

    Standing, Arayn turned to Soren, who watched intently. ¡°Before we begin,¡± he said, ¡°do you know about the factions of demons?¡±

    Soren hesitated, then shook his head.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze hardened. ¡°Then listen carefully. I¡¯ll only explain this once.¡±

    Arayn crossed his arms and gazed at the pentagram he had drawn. "There are four major factions of demons," he began. "The first is the Throne faction, made up of demons with ancient lineages. These demons have long lifespans and are born with numerous innate abilities. Because of that, they see themselves as superior¡ªnot just to other species, but even to demons from the other factions."

    Soren frowned. "Superior? So they¡¯re like nobles?"

    Arayn nodded, a faint grin creeping across his face. "Exactly. Arrogant, self-righteous, and unbearable to deal with." His gaze sharpened, and he leaned slightly toward Soren. "Do you know what happens to them when we summon them?"

    Soren shook his head, his curiosity piqued.

    Arayn¡¯s grin widened, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. "They¡¯re so full of themselves that they¡¯re hard to negotiate with. That¡¯s why people in the cult summon them just to fight them. When they¡¯re defeated, their bodies and essence make excellent sacrifices for rituals."

    Soren¡¯s eyes widened as he processed the revelation.

    Arayn unsheathed Malzareth, holding the demonic blade up for Soren to see. The sword¡¯s faintly glowing runes seemed to pulse with a life of their own. "This sword," he said, his voice almost reverent, "was formed from the soul of a Throne faction demon."

    Soren stared at the weapon, his respect for his master deepening. "Master is so powerful," he murmured.

    "Powerful, yes," Arayn agreed, sheathing the blade once more. "But even I can''t underestimate demons from this faction. Without a doubt, they are the strongest faction. They get more powerful as they age. When they reach the expert-class above, they are force to be reckoned with. People in the cult only dare to summon demons who haven''t reached expert-class yet."

    Arayn shifted his weight, his gaze drifting to the compass nestled within the ash-drawn square. "The second faction is the Hybrids," he continued. "This faction is made up of demons with mixed blood. They might be demonic beasts that gained sapience, or even humans who were transformed into demons."

    Soren tilted his head, intrigued. "So it''s true that humans can become demons."

    Arayn nodded. "Yes. Through certain rituals, though the cost is high. And those who succeed often become some of the most ambitious and resourceful demons."

    He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. "The current leader of this faction is someone you should know¡ªour former Sovereign, Azael Crimsonstar."

    Soren¡¯s eyes widened in shock. "I know he ascended through the demonic path, but I didn''t know he''s in the Netherworld now."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    "Indeed," Arayn said with a faint smirk. "After his ascension, he abandoned mortality entirely and embraced his demonic nature. Now, he rules over the Hybrids with the same cunning and ambition that built this cult."

    Soren''s voice was filled with awe. "So, the Hybrids are tied to the cult?"

    "Quite closely. The cult often deals with demons from this faction. Unlike the Throne demons, Hybrids are practical and easier to negotiate with. Their mixed nature gives them a broader perspective, and their powers are not to be trifled with. Many of the cult¡¯s most valuable contracts and abilities come from them."

    Soren nodded, his curiosity deepening as he glanced at the pentagram. "It sounds like they''re the ideal faction to work with."

    "Not always," Arayn replied. "Their deals come with their own risks, but you¡¯ll learn that soon enough."

    Arayn¡¯s expression grew contemplative as he continued. ¡°The third faction is the Hoarders. Unlike the Throne demons, these are demons of ordinary lineage, but don¡¯t let that fool you. What they lack in innate abilities, they make up for with sheer ambition and determination. They¡¯ll use any means necessary to become stronger¡ªwhether it¡¯s through devouring other demons, making contracts, or amassing forbidden knowledge.¡±

    Soren furrowed his brow. ¡°So they work harder for their power?¡±

    ¡°In a sense,¡± Arayn replied. ¡°They¡¯re relentless, which is why they¡¯ve become the largest faction in the Netherworld. Their numbers alone make them significant, and their resourcefulness means they often have something valuable to offer. The cult frequently strikes deals with them, especially for minor contracts or lesser abilities.¡±

    Soren nodded slowly, absorbing the information. ¡°They sound... practical.¡±

    ¡°They are,¡± Arayn said with a faint smirk. ¡°But never underestimate their cunning. A desperate Hoarder is just as dangerous as any Throne demon.¡±

    He straightened, his gaze sharpening. ¡°And then there¡¯s the last faction: the Gourmets.¡±

    Soren blinked, the name catching him off guard. ¡°Gourmets?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°An ironic name, isn¡¯t it? This faction is made up of noble demons who rejected the Throne¡¯s ideology, as well as demons who thrive on chaos and mischief. They¡¯re unpredictable, dangerous, and driven by a desire to indulge in their every whim¡ªwhether that¡¯s consuming the essence of powerful beings or causing destruction for their own amusement.¡±

    Soren shifted uncomfortably. ¡°That sounds... terrifying.¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Arayn said flatly. ¡°While the Throne faction holds the most prestige, the Gourmets are a close second in terms of influence. And individually, they¡¯re unmatched. The strongest demon in the Netherworld, Archdemon Tyras, leads this faction.¡±

    Soren¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°The strongest demon?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Arayn said. ¡°Tyras is a force of nature, one of the strongest beings in this world. Even the celestials avoid crossing him. If you ever make a contract from the Gourmets, tread carefully. Their unpredictability makes them the most dangerous of all.¡±

    Soren swallowed hard, glancing at the ritual circle. ¡°Am I going to summoning a demon from one of these factions?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s smirk returned. ¡°As your master, my job is to show paths for you. Whether you choose path A or B, it''s up to you, my disciple. I give you freedom of choices. Even if you want to try a contract with the Throne, I won''t stop you."

    Arayn handed the book to Soren. ¡°This book contains the coordinates of various demons, their abilities, and their factions. Your task is simple. Choose four demons to make contracts with. Each one must bring you closer to reaching your full potential.¡±

    Soren blinked, the weight of the assignment sinking in. ¡°Four demons? Am I going to target four abilities for my awakening?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Arayn replied sharply. ¡°This is my test for you. Study their abilities and decide which ones will serve you best. You have one hour.¡±

    Soren¡¯s grip on the book tightened. ¡°Understood, Master.¡±

    Arayn smirked faintly, crossing his arms. ¡°Good. I expect you to focus. It¡¯s your forte, after all. Don¡¯t disappoint me.¡±

    Soren nodded, determination flaring in his eyes. He turned his attention to the book, already flipping through the pages. The weight of the task didn¡¯t deter him. If anything, it fueled his resolve.

    Arayn stood silently, his gaze lingering on his disciple. He could see the gears turning in Soren¡¯s mind. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you truly have what it takes to step into this world,¡± he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

    Arayn stepped back, leaving Soren to his task, and pulled out a slender stick of incense from his satchel. He lit the tip with a flick of his fingers. The sweet, musky scent of Beast Attracting Incense began to fill the air, carried by a light breeze.

    He placed the incense on the ground and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. The incense¡¯s allure worked quickly, rustling sounds echoing from the dense bush. Moments later, Bloodthorn Beasts emerged, their sinewy bodies bristling with crimson thorns. Their glowing red eyes locked onto Arayn, driven mad by the lure of the incense.

    Arayn unsheathed Malzareth, the blade¡¯s runes flaring with a dark crimson light as if hungry for what was to come. The beasts lunged at him, but their movements were predictable, almost sluggish to his keen eyes.

    In a flurry of precise strikes, Malzareth cut through them with ease, its blade leaving faint trails of crimson energy in the air. Each beast let out a screech before collapsing, its body withering as the sword absorbed their souls. Arayn stood amidst the fallen creatures, the stillness only broken by the soft hum of Malzareth¡¯s dark power.

    [Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]

    [Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]

    [Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]

    He let out a bored yawn, stretching one arm lazily. "This is tedious," he muttered. His gaze swept over the lifeless Bloodthorn Beasts at his feet. "These creatures are the weakest magical beasts in the kingdom. No challenge, no thrill. How dull."

    He sheathed Malzareth and glanced toward the forest¡¯s darker depths. ¡°I wish I could fight something stronger, something worth my time.¡±

    One hour later, Soren looked up from the book. He turned to find a grisly sight¡ªdozens of Bloodthorn Beast corpses strewn across the clearing, their twisted forms piled haphazardly. The crimson thorns on their bodies were dull now, their vitality drained, leaving them as hollow shells.

    His jaw dropped slightly in shock. Arayn approached him. His steps were unhurried, his expression calm, as though the massacre was nothing more than a routine task.

    ¡°Have you decided which demons to summon?¡± Arayn asked.

    Soren snapped out of his daze and nodded. ¡°Yes, Master.¡± He pointed at the book in his hands, his finger resting firmly on one of the entries. ¡°This is the first demon I want to contract.¡±

 Chapter 27: Contract with Demons

    Arayn smiled faintly. "I understand. As your teacher, I will witness your effort. Prepare yourself. I will summon the primordial thread now."

    To activate the primordial crystal and awaken the class inside it, one needed to summon the primordial thread¡ªa task that required the recitation of the magic language. However, as Arayn couldn¡¯t speak in magic language, he opted for the ancient demon tongue, which sufficed for summoning demon-related classes.

    Arayn placed the primordial crystal beside the compass within the ash-marked square. His voice deepened as he began the chant in the ancient demon language.

    "Zorthal vekreth ul¡¯mirazan, thren¡¯kolar vashra¡¯den. Vekarioth mal¡¯keth draem, silthar vul¡¯morath. Acolyteth ul¡¯dael, keth''ranar vol''demosh ul¡¯thrak.¡±

    The air grew dense with unseen power as the chant resonated. Shadows seemed to ripple in the clearing, and a faint light began to shimmer above the square. Slowly, a delicate, glowing thread emerged from the center of the square, its ethereal glow pulsating like a heartbeat. The thread drifted with a mind of its own before diving into the primordial crystal.

    That was the primordial thread, a fragment of the world''s origin, containing the ancient record of a class. It served as the bridge that connected the crystal to the Source, unlocking the chosen class and its powers.

    Arayn stepped back slightly, his smirk returning. "There it is. Now, Soren, I will awaken the catalyst."

    Arayn raised his hand as he recited the summoning chant in the ancient demon language.

    "Aruk''thal vorn''keth draemor, sul''verath lin''koran. Melkash ul''dralvek, thorn¡¯ashar ven¡¯koral. Yural''zan vekaroth, den¡¯morak il¡¯vashra. 32, 57, 98, 64, 32, 51, 18."

    The air inside the pentagram vibrated with energy. The ashes marking the symbols on the ground glowed red, and then, in a flash of dark light, a figure materialized within the pentagram.

    The demon stood tall, its form humanoid with amber eyes. He exuded a faint heat, as though he had stepped from a furnace. With an indifferent tone, he introduced itself.

    "I am Veknos of the Impregnable Fortress. Who among you seeks a contract with me?"

    Arayn studied the demon with an amused smile. "Oh, calm and composed, even though he is stronger than us. Not bad, Soren. You might have a knack for this after all."

    Soren stepped forward, his hands clenched nervously. He took a deep breath before speaking firmly. "I am the one. I seek a contract with you, Veknos."

    The demon tilted his head, his glowing eyes locking onto Soren with an intensity that seemed to pierce his soul. "Very well," he said, crossing his arms. "State your terms."

    Arayn watched silently, a faint smirk playing on his lips. This was Soren¡¯s moment to prove himself.

    Soren looked the demon in the eyes and said firmly, "I want one of your abilities. The one that creates a camouflage barrier."

    The demon''s expression didn¡¯t change, his tone indifferent. ¡°You desire Veil of Mirage? An interesting choice.¡± He tilted his head slightly. ¡°However, you lack anything of value to offer me as collateral. Therefore, I will set my own terms.¡±

    Soren stiffened but kept his composure. ¡°What terms?¡±

    The demon¡¯s lips curled faintly. ¡°First, you will accept my blood after you reach level 20, binding us further. Second, before you reach that level, you will sacrifice 100 souls to me each year. Fail to meet this quota, and I will claim your soul as payment.¡±

    Soren hesitated for a brief moment, then nodded. ¡°I accept your terms.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± the demon said, satisfaction flickering in his voice. ¡°Then we are bound.¡±

    The demon stepped forward and raised a clawed hand, pointing a single finger toward Soren¡¯s forehead. A faint, red glow emanated from the tip, and the mark of the contract etched itself into Soren¡¯s skin.

    ¡°You now wield [Veil of Mirage]. Manage your life wisely, or your time will run out faster than you think.¡±

    Soren felt a rush of foreign energy coursing through him as the demon lowered his hand, the barrier ability now embedded deep within his soul.

    Veknos narrowed his eyes at Soren. ¡°Remember our contract, human. Fail me, and your soul is mine.¡± With that, the demon¡¯s form dissolved into shadows, and he disappeared into the ether.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    Arayn smirked, crossing his arms. ¡°Well done, my disciple,¡± he said smugly. ¡°You¡¯ve awakened the Demonic Acolyte class. How does it feel?¡±

    Soren clenched his fists and grinned. ¡°It feels¡­ incredible. I can feel power coursing through me.¡± His gaze shifted as a translucent screen appeared before his eyes. ¡°So, this is the status window accessible to class holders.¡± His eyes scanned the details, and a look of surprise crossed his face. ¡°I¡¯ve already reached level 4.¡±

    Arayn chuckled. ¡°Naturally,¡± he said. ¡°Levels 1 to 3 are for normal humans, those without a class. Reaching level 4 means you¡¯ve become a proper class holder. And once you hit level 11, that¡¯s when you¡¯ll no longer be treated as a newbie.¡±

    Soren nodded, absorbing the information. The faint glow of the status window lingered in his vision, a reminder of the path he¡¯d just embarked on.

    Arayn glanced at Soren. ¡°Get ready. I¡¯m summoning the second demon.¡±

    Soren nodded, steeling himself as Arayn retrieved another compass from his satchel. Without delay, Arayn chanted in the ancient demon language, the words crackling with power. The pentagram glowed ominously, and the air turned heavy.

    A sudden explosion of energy shook the clearing as the second demon materialized, a massive frog-like creature with leathery bat wings. Its colossal size obliterated the surrounding trees, splinters flying in every direction. Arayn reacted instantly, grabbing Soren by his shirt and leaping onto a tree just as the demon¡¯s enormous bulk crashed into the ground where they had stood moments before.

    From atop a tree, Arayn exhaled sharply, a smirk creeping onto his face. ¡°This is the demon you want to make a contract with? Bold choice. Let¡¯s see if you can handle it.¡±

    The frog demon¡¯s glowing yellow eyes locked onto them, its deep voice rumbling like thunder. ¡°So, you¡¯re the one who summoned me. That must mean you wish to turn my clones into your familiars.¡±

    Soren stepped forward on the branch, gripping the bark for balance. ¡°Yes! Please grant me the [Familiar Contract] ability!¡±

    The demon¡¯s wide mouth curved into a menacing grin. ¡°I will grant it, but the price is steep. Present me a dozen souls within six days. Fail, and I will curse you into a frog.¡±

    Soren hesitated only briefly before nodding. ¡°I agree with your terms.¡±

    The demon extended one of its fingers, and a dark mark burned into Soren¡¯s chest, the pain brief but sharp. ¡°The [Familiar Contract: Zargoth Khelmar] is now yours,¡± the demon rumbled. ¡°Heed my words. You will need a soul to summon a clone. Do not forget about this.¡±

    With a final, menacing stare, the demon folded its bat-like wings and vanished.

    Arayn plunged from the tree, the ground crunching beneath his boots as he unceremoniously released Soren. The younger man stumbled but quickly righted himself.

    ¡°That was Zargoth Khelmar,¡± Arayn said, brushing dirt off his coat. ¡°A master-class demon from the Hybrids faction. Summoning him wasn¡¯t just bold, it was outright reckless. Still, I¡¯ll admit, you handled yourself well.¡± His tone carried the faintest hint of approval, though his expression remained cold.

    Soren straightened, a flicker of pride in his eyes. ¡°I feel confident now. If I can handle him, I can manage the next two summons.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s gaze darkened, and he let out a short, humorless laugh. ¡°Confidence is useful, but don¡¯t let it get into your head. You¡¯re planning to summon demons from the Gourmets and Throne factions next, aren¡¯t you? Let me remind you, those demons are leagues more dangerous. Zargoth Khelmar was unpredictable, yes, but these next ones¡­ they won¡¯t hesitate to kill you the moment they sense weakness.¡±

    Soren swallowed hard but nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    Arayn studied him for a moment, his sharp eyes scrutinizing every flicker of emotion in Soren¡¯s face. ¡°Good,¡± he said at last. ¡°Because if you aren¡¯t, no contract will save you from what¡¯s coming. I will summon the third demon now."

    Arayn put the third compass and recited the summoning chant. The pentagram flared to life. The ground trembled, and a figure emerged from within.

    The demon that appeared was a towering figure, his giant frame cloaked in a long, flowing robe. His most noticeable feature was the eye patch covering his left eye, while his handsome face was framed by long hair and a finger-length beard. Despite his imposing size, the demon radiated no discernible aura. He felt rather ordinary, almost mundane.

    The demon''s gaze flicked between Arayn and Soren, and a low chuckle escaped him. He eyed Arayn for a moment longer, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

    ¡°Protection from father,¡± the demon said. ¡°I bet you¡¯re roaming about, acting all arrogant.¡±

    Arayn grinned back. ¡°Irrelevant worm,¡± he scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. ¡°You can sense it because you¡¯re the descendant of Archdemon Tyras, aren¡¯t you? The one they call Loxyr? But still, the fact that he chooses to protect me instead of his own children means he saw something in me. Something you clearly didn¡¯t.¡±

    The demon didn¡¯t flinch or take offense. Instead, his laughter rang out louder. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re amusing,¡± he said, clearly enjoying the exchange. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to have bad blood with you, Father''s Chosen. In fact, I¡¯d much prefer a cordial relationship.¡±

    Arayn raised an eyebrow but said nothing, watching the demon with a calculating gaze.

    ¡°As a token of friendship,¡± the demon continued, ¡°I¡¯ll grant you an ability. But there¡¯s a small condition. I¡¯ll be watching you, every single day.¡±

    Arayn''s grin widened, but he shrugged. ¡°That sounds fair. I¡¯d be glad to accept it, but the one who summoned you was my disciple.¡±

    The demon¡¯s eye shifted to Soren, and his voice dropped slightly, a knowing smile curling at the corners of his lips. "I¡¯ll give the gift to both of you, but you¡¯ll only be able to choose the same ability.¡±

    Soren hesitated for a moment, glancing at Arayn.

    Arayn gave him a small nod. ¡°It¡¯s up to you, my disciple.¡±

    Soren took a deep breath, steeling himself. ¡°I want the [Inferno Torrent],¡± he declared.

    The demon let out a booming laugh, clearly entertained by the choice. ¡°Oh, an interesting choice indeed.¡±

    He extended a hand, his fingers snapping in a smooth motion, and a surge of power manifested through the air. The ability was granted to both of them in a flash of red and orange energy. As the last traces of magic settled, the demon clapped his hands together and grinned.

    ¡°Very well, then. I¡¯ll be watching both of you from now on,¡± he said, his smile mischievous. ¡°And remember, I expect to be entertained. Keep things interesting, won¡¯t you?¡±

    With that, Loxyr let out a final laugh, vanishing into thin air as though he had never been there at all.

 Chapter 28: Higher Ground

    Arayn opened his status window, his gaze sharpening as he read through the details of the newly acquired ability. "[Inferno Torrent (C)]... Not bad," he mused.

    The description highlighted its ability to unleash a concentrated stream of energy, capable of incinerating multiple targets in its path. As he scrolled further, his eyes caught the subtle changes in his stats. His Intelligence had increased by 2 points, as had his Wisdom.

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 18

    Strength: 25

    Dexterity: 23

    Constitution: 36

    Intelligence: 38

    Wisdom: 21

    Charisma: 29]

    He laughed. "I didn¡¯t expect to gain benefits from your summoning, Soren," he said, closing the window. "This whole ordeal is more entertaining than I thought."

    Soren smiled faintly but remained focused.

    Arayn''s expression grew serious as he turned to his disciple. "Now, are you absolutely certain about this last summoning? We''re talking about Xal¡¯Zyren, the Demonic Tempest of the Throne faction." He paused for emphasis. "This demon has reached expert class. It¡¯s far beyond the others you¡¯ve summoned so far."

    Soren nodded firmly. "I¡¯ve read the reports, Master. Xal¡¯Zyren is one of the few Throne demons who willingly makes contracts with members of the cult. He¡¯s arrogant, but cooperative if approached the right way. I want his ability, [Corlust Eyes of Petrification]."

    Arayn¡¯s sharp eyes studied his disciple for a moment before nodding. "Very well," he said. "Let¡¯s begin."

    Taking a deep breath, Arayn retrieved the final compass from his satchel and began preparing the ritual circle. The pentagram etched into the ground shimmered with a crimson hue as Arayn chanted the summoning incantation in the ancient demon tongue.

    The clearing erupted with pressure as the demon appeared, standing tall and imposing. His golden armor shimmered faintly, and his six folded bay wings gave him an aura of undeniable authority.

    He looked down at the two before him and spoke with an overwhelming force, "Kneel."

    The command was backed by an invisible wave of energy that surged outward, threatening to crush them where they stood. Trees around the clearing groaned under its weight, leaves scattering as though driven by fear.

    Before the force could engulf them, Arayn''s own energy erupted. A suffocating aura, far greater than the demon''s, filled the space. The oppressive wave dissolved instantly, leaving the towering demon unable to resist. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, disbelief etched across his face.

    "Impossible! This is... You have protection from a great demon," the demon muttered, his voice faltering. He stared at Arayn, his pride shaken, struggling to comprehend what he was facing.

    Arayn stepped forward, his expression composed and commanding, the weight of his aura pressing down. "Nice attempt, but only people of the same realm as me can try to harm me. Otherwise, Tyras will protect me."

    Xal''Zyren widened his eyes when he heard the name. "The Archdemon Tyras! You, who exactly are you?"

    Arayn grinned. "My identity does not matter. Now, I think you understand that we are qualified to make a contract with you. Are you ready to talk properly, or will you continue wasting my time?"

    The demon lowered his head, unable to hide his shock.

    The demon''s glowing eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. After a tense silence, he finally spoke. "Very well. You are worthy of a contract with me."

    Arayn crossed his arms, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "The one forming the contract isn¡¯t me. It¡¯s my disciple."

    The demon''s expression twisted with offense. "Your disciple? That boy has no qualifications to stand before me, let alone make a contract!"

    Arayn''s smirk deepened, and his voice dripped with contempt. "You¡¯re a fool. Here¡¯s a rare opportunity to gain my favor, and instead, you choose to waste it on wounded pride."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The demon''s jaw tightened, his reluctance clear, but he relented. "Fine. I will consider the contract, but only if you introduce me to Archdemon Tyras."

    Arayn''s laugh rang out sharp and mocking, his tone filled with derision. "Introduce you? Do you truly believe you''re worthy of meeting Archdemon Tyras?"

    The demon''s pride flared, and his voice turned defiant. "If you cannot do it, then I refuse to form a contract. My terms are set."

    Arayn raised a brow, his tone nonchalant yet cutting. "Oh, I can do it. But the question is¡ªwhy should I? The reward you''re offering hardly seems worth the trouble."

    The demon hesitated, then asked cautiously, "What do you want in exchange?"

    Arayn¡¯s eyes gleamed with calculation. "Donate wisps of your soul to both me and my disciple. Do that, and I might consider it."

    The demon¡¯s fiery aura flickered uncertainly. "If I agree, will you truly introduce me to Archdemon Tyras?"

    Arayn grinned, his confidence unwavering. "I won¡¯t just introduce you¡ªI¡¯ll ensure you get an audience with him. I know the coordinates to his domain and the password to pass the guards without being annihilated."

    The demon¡¯s hesitation melted away, replaced by eager determination. "Very well. I accept your terms."

    The demon turned his gaze to Soren, his voice dripping with disdain. "Speak, mortal. What do you desire?"

    Soren met his eyes without flinching, his voice steady. "I want the Corlust Eyes of Petrification."

    The demon¡¯s laughter boomed, shaking the ground beneath their feet. "Impudent whelp! You dare ask for the Corlust Eyes?"

    He leaned closer, his towering body casting a shadow over Soren. "Do you even comprehend the audacity of your request? The Corlust Eyes are treasures among demons, a rare blessing even among noble lineages. They are a symbol of supremacy, a mark of unparalleled pride. To demand such a gift¡­ you tread dangerously close to arrogance."

    The demon''s gaze shifted to Arayn, his fiery eyes narrowing with contemplation. For a moment, silence lingered. Finally, with a reluctant snarl, he said, "Very well. I will grant it, though you test my patience."

    The demon raised a clawed hand, dark energy swirling around it, and pointed at Soren. The power surged into Soren¡¯s body, igniting a searing pain in his eyes as the Corlust Eyes of Petrification manifested. When the process was complete, the demon placed a hand on his chest, drawing wisps of his own soul, and divided them between Soren and Arayn.

    He straightened, his tone shifting to one of anticipation. "Now, mortal, the coordinate and the password to Archdemon Tyras. Give it to me."

    Arayn smirked and produced a folded piece of paper from his coat. "As if I hadn¡¯t foreseen this," he said, handing it over.

    The demon snatched the paper eagerly, his lips curling into a satisfied grin. "You have fulfilled your end of the bargain. I shall remember this moment fondly."

    Without another word, the demon vanished, his booming laughter echoing through the forest as he vanished in joy.

    As the echo of the demon''s laughter faded, Soren turned to Arayn, curiosity etched on his face. "Master, why was that demon so thrilled just to get a piece of paper?"

    Arayn smirked, crossing his arms. "Why are you so happy now that you¡¯ve become a class holder?"

    Soren blinked at the question, then smiled. "Because it¡¯s a turning point for me. I¡¯m grateful, truly. I promise I¡¯ll never forget this."

    Arayn chuckled. "It¡¯s the same for that demon. The chance to meet Archdemon Tyras is a monumental honor for demons. And if he manages to become Tyras''s disciple, his status will ascend to unimaginable heights."

    Soren hesitated before asking, "Do you think he¡¯ll succeed?"

    Arayn¡¯s grin turned cold. "Not a chance. That demon will die. But that¡¯s none of our concern. Even if he perishes, you won¡¯t lose the ability he granted you."

    A flicker of pity crossed Soren¡¯s face. "I feel sorry for him."

    "Pity has no place here. If he dies, it¡¯s his own fault for overestimating himself. Remember this, Soren¡ªa valuable lesson. Always put yourself in a favorable position. Never let anyone dictate the terms. I never place myself at a disadvantage. Everything I do is calculated, everything within the palm of my hand."

    Soren stared at his master in awe, the weight of Arayn¡¯s words sinking in. "You¡¯re truly remarkable, Master."

    Arayn smirked, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "And you, my disciple, should follow my example."

    Soren clenched his fists, determination flickering in his gaze. "I promise, Master. I¡¯ll always ensure I¡¯m at an advantage, no matter the situation."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk widened. "Words are cheap. You need to prove it to me, right now. We¡¯re both under the effect of the [Wisp of Demon Soul]. Open your status window and read what it offers."

    Without hesitation, Soren summoned his status window. Lines of glowing text appeared before him, detailing his current state.

    [Active Buff: Wisp of Demon Soul

    Increases experience gain by 300% for one day.

    Enhances stat growth by 300% for one day.]

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as he read his own status window silently, noting the same effect. He laughed, a low, satisfied sound. "Do you see the potential in this gift? The Wisp of Demon Soul is a rare boon. It multiplies not only your experience gain but your stat growth for an entire day. If you use this time wisely, you¡¯ll ascend far faster than others."

    Soren¡¯s jaw tightened, his excitement barely contained. "This is incredible. I won¡¯t waste a second of it."

    Arayn gestured toward the dense forest surrounding them. "Good. Because training starts now. Let¡¯s see how much you can grow under this effect. Remember, Soren¡ªthis is your chance to show me you can truly embody the lessons I¡¯ve taught you."

    Soren nodded, his determination solidifying. "I won¡¯t let you down, Master."

    Arayn smirked. "Then let¡¯s begin."

 Chapter 29: Lesson

    Aveline, Thalric, and Lyssa stepped into the burning town, the air thick with smoke and the  stench of charred wood. Flames licked the crumbling remains of homes. Aveline clenched her fists at the sight, her face tight with barely restrained fury.

    "Hold yourself," Thalric said. "We¡¯ll get our chance to end this. Saria won¡¯t escape."

    Aveline took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes still burning with anger.

    The trio made their way through the inferno, weaving past fallen beams and debris until they reached the untouched district of Valtheran. The sudden transition from destruction to calm felt almost jarring. The manor stood atop a hill in the middle of the town, unscathed.

    Inside, Darius awaited them. His sharp grin widened as his gaze fell on Aveline. "Welcome back, Saintess," he said with mock cheer. "Your comrades¡¯ souls have been put to good use, I assure you." He chuckled.

    Aveline¡¯s nails dug into her palms, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

    Before she could respond, Lyssa interjected, "We¡¯re here for business. I have something to purchase."

    Darius arched a brow. "Ah, so quick to gather souls, Lyssa. You¡¯re the second to visit this neutral ground. Arayn was the first. I didn¡¯t expect you to keep pace with him."

    Thalric stepped forward. "Where did he go?"

    Darius gave a sly smile. "That, my friend, is valuable information. Perhaps you¡¯d like to buy it?"

    Lyssa dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Not today. I need an Infernal Codex of Warding Shadows."

    Darius stroked his chin thoughtfully. "An Infernal Codex of Warding Shadows will cost you 100 souls."

    Without hesitation, Lyssa unfurled her Soul Gathering Scroll. A faint blue glow emanated from it as wisps of energy swirled out, drawn into the Ritual Lantern on Darius¡¯s desk. The lantern flared to life, its light dimming as the souls were consumed.

    Darius retrieved the codex and handed it to her, the leather-bound tome emanating a faint, sinister aura. "Anything else?"

    "Yes," Lyssa said. "I¡¯ll need supplies. Potions and essentials."

    Darius nodded, assembling the requested items with swift efficiency. He placed the goods on the counter and leaned back, his smirk never fading. "It¡¯s always a pleasure doing business with you. Come back anytime."

    As the three turned to leave, the door creaked open, and a figure entered. A woman stepped into the room. Lyssa¡¯s breath caught as her heart raced. She couldn¡¯t help but stare at the newcomer¡¯s striking features, her beauty like a sudden light piercing the gloom.

    Alice had arrived.

    Alice paused in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the group. "Oh, I didn¡¯t realize you had guests. I¡¯ll come back later," she said, her tone polite but detached.

    Before she could leave, Lyssa stepped forward hurriedly. "Wait! We¡¯re done here. We were just leaving."

    Alice¡¯s gaze lingered on the trio for a moment. She nodded. "Good luck with the match," she said simply.

    As they stepped out into the quiet street of town, the night¡¯s chill brushing against them, Thalric broke the silence. "So, that¡¯s Alice. She really is beautiful. No wonder you¡¯ve fallen for her, Master."

    Lyssa flushed, her composure faltering. "What? No! That¡¯s¡­ not true!" she stammered, though her reddening face betrayed her denial.

    Aveline smirked faintly but kept her tone even. "Alice is unique, that¡¯s for certain. My class lets me see someone¡¯s kill count, and she¡¯s never killed a sapient being. Not one. Her soul is almost too pure for the daughter of the Sovereign."

    Thalric scoffed. "Unlike her brother, I assume. That man is the very embodiment of evil. I still want another fight with him."

    Lyssa glanced at him, concern shadowing her features. "Are you sure we can win? Is your left arm¡­ alright now?"

    Thalric raised his left arm, flexing his fingers. The memory of Arayn severing it was still fresh, but the regeneration ability had done its work, leaving it whole once more.

    "It¡¯s fine," he said. "And that¡¯s exactly why I want revenge."

    Aveline crossed her arms. "Arayn can wait. Stopping Saria comes first."

    Lyssa nodded in agreement. "True, but how are we supposed to stop them?"

    Before anyone could answer, two figures emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. Valen¡¯s confident voice broke the uneasy silence. "Then why not join forces with us? We have a plan."

    Lyssa froze, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the newcomers. She quickly moved behind Thalric, peeking out cautiously.Stolen story; please report.

    Thalric stepped forward, his posture tense. "And why should we trust anything you say?"

    A third figure appeared. Eryndor¡¯s tone was calm but pleading. "Because you need to. I want to stop Saria too. Please, trust us."

    Aveline¡¯s gaze shifted to Eryndor, her expression sharp. "You¡¯re working with Valen now?"

    Eryndor inclined his head. "Yes, but only until we stop Saria. After that, we¡¯ll go our separate ways."

    Aveline turned to Lyssa, her voice softening slightly. "Eryndor can be trusted."

    Lyssa hesitated, studying Eryndor¡¯s face before nodding slowly. "Alright. Can we hear your plan first?"

    ---

    In the depths of the forest, the faint crackle of a fire broke the stillness. Arayn sat cross-legged by the flames, his eyes half-closed as he muttered in an ancient demonic tongue. A crimson orb floated above his hand, its surface pulsating like a beating heart as he focused on maintaining its form.

    The quiet was interrupted by the rustle of leaves and the faint hum of wings. Soren stepped into the clearing, his giant winged frog demon stood by his side. The creature carried a limp Bloodthorn Beast in its jaws, its sharp teeth embedded in the beast''s flesh.

    Soren put on a triumphant smile on his face. "I¡¯ve done it! My first magical beast hunt is complete."

    Arayn let the crimson orb dissipate, yawning as he stretched his arms lazily. "Boring," he said, his tone flat. "Is this really the fighting style you envisioned for yourself?"

    Soren frowned, the excitement dimming from his expression. "What do you think I should do, then?"

    Arayn leaned forward slightly. "Ask yourself why you became a class holder in the first place. What¡¯s your purpose?"

    Soren¡¯s brows furrowed as he thought for a moment. "I want to paint something incredible," he said finally. "Something that defies reason, in an environment no one else could survive."

    Arayn nodded. "Then when you paint, you¡¯ll be immobile. You need to prioritize your defense above all else. Leave the offense to your familiars. Become a fortress, Soren. A stronghold that nothing can breach."

    Soren¡¯s eyes lit up with understanding, and he immediately raised his hands, casting an [Camouflage Barrier] around them. The reflective light of protective magic surrounded the clearing, and he grinned. "I won¡¯t leave this barrier. I¡¯ll fight from here."

    With a quick hand gesture, he summoned two more winged frog demons. They croaked ominously as they hopped forward, ready to act. "Lure more beasts here," Soren commanded them. "Keep them busy outside the barrier."

    Arayn nodded. "This is a good start. Follow this path. In time, gather abilities that enhance your fortress. Arm it with magic formations. Strengthen your defense until no one can break through it."

    Soren grinned, determination etched on his face. "I will. I¡¯ll become unstoppable."

    They sat in silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. Arayn¡¯s voice broke through the stillness as he began chanting once more in the ancient demon tongue. A crimson orb flickered to life above his palm.

    Soren watched intently, his curiosity growing with each word. He couldn¡¯t help but stare, and eventually, Arayn glanced at him. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Soren hesitated before speaking. "What are you doing?"

    Arayn smirked, the faintest hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I¡¯ll teach you something valuable," he said. Extending his hand forward, he uttered, "[Inferno Torrent]."

    A beam of searing energy erupted from his palm, blazing a path through the darkness before fading into the distance.

    Without pause, Arayn began chanting again in ancient demon language. This time, the orb he conjured was smaller, and as he finished the incantation, another [Inferno Torrent] burst forth¡ªthis one thinner, dimmer, and less intense.

    Arayn turned to Soren. "Did you notice the difference?" he asked.

    Soren tilted his head, frowning slightly. "The second one was smaller," he said.

    Arayn nodded. "Why do you think it was smaller?"

    Soren hesitated, then answered, "You chanted something before casting it."

    A faint smile tugged at the corners of Arayn¡¯s mouth. "Correct. That ¡®something¡¯ is called the ancient demon language," he explained. Without further preamble, he extended his hand and said, "[Inferno Torrent]."

    A beam of energy surged into the air, blazing briefly before fading into the night. Lowering his hand, Arayn turned back to Soren. "That was the ability without chanting in the ancient demon language. Its form and power are fixed. We can¡¯t alter it."

    He paused for a moment, letting the information sink in before continuing. "However, by using the ancient demon language, we can modify a demonic spell as long as its core remains unchanged. We can adjust its form, its power, even its property."

    Soren leaned forward, his interest piqued. "And normal spells?"

    "Normal spells," Arayn said, "can only be modified through the magic language."

    Soren¡¯s eyes gleamed with understanding as he absorbed Arayn¡¯s words, the gears in his mind already turning.

    Soren glanced at Arayn, hesitation flickering in his gaze. "Can I learn the ancient demon language?"

    Arayn leaned back, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You¡¯ll need a patron for that," he replied. "It¡¯s not something I can just teach, but," he added, a faint smirk curling his lips, "if you can reach level 15 before the deathmatch ends, I¡¯ll find a patron for you myself."

    Soren¡¯s curiosity deepened. "The deathmatch¡­ are you confident you¡¯ll win?"

    Arayn scoffed. "Foolish question. Never doubt your master. I always have the upper hand when I operate. Always."

    Soren straightened, embarrassed by his own doubt. "I¡¯m sorry. I won¡¯t question you again."

    Before Arayn could respond, the distant rustling of leaves and the croaks of the demon frogs signaled their return. The winged beasts emerged from the trees, a dozen Bloodthorn Beasts chasing them.

    Arayn observed them. "Defeat all but one," he instructed Soren. "Petrify the last one with your Corlust Eyes."

    Soren nodded, turning to his three demon frogs. "Hello, listen to my order," he said. "Take them down, but leave one alive."

    The frogs leaped into the fray. The first frog spat a stream of venom, the acidic liquid hissing as it splashed onto a Bloodthorn Beast, melting its bristles and burning through its hide. The beast shrieked and lunged, only to be intercepted by another frog that clamped its massive jaws around its neck, ending the fight in a sickening crunch.

    The remaining beasts retaliated, their spines bristling before they launched a barrage of sharp quills. One frog flapped its bat wings, dodging mid-air, while another used its bulk to shield its companion, the quills embedding harmlessly into its thick hide.

    With a low croak, the third frog leapt behind the beasts, spitting a wide arc of poison. The corrosive spray incapacitated three of them at once, their limbs locking up as the venom spread through their veins. One by one, the frogs systematically dismantled the pack until only one Bloodthorn Beast remained, snarling and panting, its spines raised defensively.

    Soren''s eyes glowed with an eerie crimson light. The beast froze, its body stiffening as though caught in an invisible grip. Slowly, its movements ceased entirely.

    Arayn¡¯s voice cut through the silence. "Now, paint it. Keep your Corlust Eyes active while you work."

    Soren didn¡¯t reply. He simply retrieved his tools. He began painting the beast, his glowing eyes fixed on his subject, ensuring the petrification held steady. The firelight flickered over his canvas, illuminating the meticulous detail in his work as the night pressed on around them.

 Chapter 30: Scheme

    Soren''s glowing eyes began to bleed, crimson streaks running down his pale cheeks, but his focus never faltered. His hand moved steadily, his gaze locked onto the petrified Bloodthorn Beast. The strain etched across his face was evident, yet he continued, unwavering.

    Arayn observed him in silence, arms crossed, the flickering firelight casting shadows over his sharp features. "Impressive," he murmured, almost to himself. "Your ability to focus is remarkable, Soren."

    Minutes stretched into an agonizing eternity until Soren finally set down his brush. The painting was complete, a vivid and haunting replica of the beast in its petrified state. Before Soren could bask in his accomplishment, he screamed.

    His body convulsed, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching his face. Blood dripped between his fingers as the toll of using the [Corlust Eyes] for so long consumed him.

    Arayn remained calm, pulling a small vial from his cloak. Uncorking it, he stepped forward and splashed the healing potion directly onto Soren''s bleeding eyes. The potent liquid sizzled faintly, but the bleeding stopped, and Soren¡¯s pained writhing eased.

    "Catch your breath," Arayn ordered. He stepped back, giving Soren space. "Good job, but don¡¯t get comfortable. The effect of Wisp of Demon Souls is still active. We need to keep moving."

    Soren nodded weakly and pushed himself to his feet. His legs trembled, but he stood tall, determination gleaming in his reddened eyes. He turned to Arayn and asked, "How¡­ how was my painting?"

    Arayn picked up the canvas, his gaze sweeping over the detail and raw emotion captured in the strokes. A small smile curved his lips. "It¡¯s perfect for your current capability."

    Relief and pride washed over Soren¡¯s face. "Thank you, Master. I promise to produce even better paintings in the future."

    Arayn nodded, a rare flicker of approval in his expression. "Your spirit is admirable. I didn¡¯t choose the wrong person to be my first disciple."

    Soren¡¯s resolve deepened, and without another word, he adjusted his gear and fell in step behind his master as they moved deeper into the forest.

    ---

    At dawn, Saria''s eyes flickered open. She had slept on the shattered remains of her throne, a crooked seat surrounded by the ruin of her once-grand mansion. The scent of smoke filled the air as she gazed out at the burning town below. Six towering flame golems stood around her.

    She knew today would be the day they moved against her. However, that was fine. She had her own preparations to make.

    To others, she might look like a madwoman. Maybe they were right. Madness had claimed her the day her twin brother, her other half, had been slain by Arayn. The memory still burned hotter than any flame.

    Yet, madness did not mean foolishness. Everything, from the burning town to the twisted rituals she had performed, was part of her design. Her enemies thought themselves clever, but they were walking into a carefully laid trap.

    Saria rose from her throne with a grace that belied her unhinged state, her tattered black cloak billowing behind her as she moved. She walked to the back of the dais, where a swirling portal pulsed with dark energy.

    This was her trump card. A doorway to a pocket dimension, built on the suffering of the townsfolk she had sacrificed. Countless souls had been offered to entities inside it, their screams still echoing faintly from the other side. Through it, she would summon one thousand demonic beasts to descend upon the other participants.

    ¡°They think their skill will save them,¡± Saria muttered to herself. Her lips twisted into a deranged smile. "If I can¡¯t win with quality, I¡¯ll crush them with quantity."

    A harsh, echoing laugh erupted from her, ringing out amidst the ruins. She could already envision the chaos¡ªa thousand demonic creatures tearing through them, overwhelming even the most prodigious of them. This was the culmination of her grief, her rage, her madness.

    When the demonic beasts consumed everything, she would finally have her revenge.

    "I have to succeed for my brother. Arayn is just my stepping stone. Everyone is my stepping stone."

    As Saria gazed into the swirling depths of the portal, a memory surfaced, Aveline. She had invited that so-called prodigy here to deal with Eryndor. Aveline, hailed as one of the strongest of their generation, was meant to be the blade that struck him down, but Aveline had failed.

    Saria¡¯s expression twisted with disdain. Aveline, with all her reputation, couldn''t put an end to Eryndor. She sneered, the bitterness of the thought gnawing at her.

    "All that praise," Saria spat, her voice dripping with mockery. "All that potential, and you couldn¡¯t even defeat him. Pathetic."

    She laughed, a cold and scornful sound that echoed across the ruined hall. "No, it doesn¡¯t matter. You, Eryndor, all of them¡ªyou¡¯re nothing but stepping stones. Your strength, your stubbornness, your hopes¡ªthey¡¯ll all be crushed beneath my feet."This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Rain poured down in heavy sheets, and dozens of water spirits darted through the ruined town. They splashed torrents of water onto the raging flames, extinguishing them faster than Saria could have imagined.

    Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the inferno she had nurtured vanish into steam and smoke. This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen this fast. Her mind raced. "Valen? No, even he couldn¡¯t summon this many water spirits..."

    Closing her eyes, Saria reached out with her mana, trying to grasp the essence of what was happening. Her senses froze as she felt a holy energy saturating the air.

    Her eyes snapped open, burning with fury. "Aveline!" she roared, her voice echoing across the ruined town. "Helping Valen by empowering his spirit-summoning magic circle! How dare you interfere! Helping my enemies, do you think that¡¯ll save you?"

    Saria¡¯s fists clenched tightly as realization set in. Spirits were naturally drawn to the holy aura. Someone imbued with such an aura could summon them at a fraction of the mana cost. It was a perfect counter to her flames.

    Her lips curled into a snarl as she turned her attention to the grand magic circle beneath her feet, pulsating with stored mana. It was meant to sustain the six flame golems standing guard around her. For now, the golems would still be around for her.

    Raising her arms, Saria began to chant. The portal behind her throne grew into a massive swirling vortex of darkness. The first demonic beast emerged, its crimson eyes gleaming with malice. Then another followed, and another, until a thousand monstrosities prowled the area.

    "By the contract," Saria bellowed. "Hunt my enemies and tear them apart!"

    The beasts did not understand her words, but the contract etched into their very beings carried her command. Her will became their directive. They howled, surging out into the ruined town in search of prey.

    Saria stood tall, her confidence restored as she watched her army of abominations spread chaos. A cruel smile stretched across her face. "Let¡¯s see how long you last, everyone. Victory is already mine."

    ---

    In a storage house, Aveline collapsed onto one knee, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Sweat dripped down her face as her fingers trembled from the strain of channeling so much mana. The summoning circle had drained her nearly dry. Even for someone of her caliber, summoning and maintaining that many water spirits had taken a heavy toll.

    Lyssa crouched beside her, concern etched into her face. "Are you alright?" she asked.

    Aveline closed her eyes, steadying her breathing. "I¡¯ll be fine," she said after a moment. "The flames... they¡¯re gone. That¡¯s what matters."

    Kaelion approached and said, "You¡¯ve done enough, Aveline. Leave the rest to Valen. He can handle it from here."

    Aveline looked up at him. "Are you sure? Saria isn¡¯t someone to be underestimated. Can Valen really face her alone?"

    Before Kaelion could respond, Thalric, who had been standing guard near the door, suddenly tensed. He sniffed the air, his sharp senses going on high alert. "Something¡¯s coming," he said. "I smell demonic beasts. A lot of them."

    Aveline gritted her teeth and pushed herself to her feet, her legs wobbling slightly. "If that¡¯s the case, then I can¡¯t rest yet. I¡¯ll help deal with them¡ª"

    Her words were cut short as Kaelion moved like lightning, drawing a dagger from his belt. He swung it at her, the blade slicing through the air. Aveline barely managed to leap back, the blade grazing her arm and leaving a thin line of blood.

    She landed in a defensive stance, her eyes narrowing as she pressed her hand against the shallow cut. "Kaelion," she said coldly. "What¡¯s the meaning of this?"

    Kaelion straightened, his expression calm, almost indifferent. "It¡¯s nothing personal," he said. "This is where your role ends. Everyone, as fellow cult members, it''s our duty to join hands and kill her."

    Thalric¡¯s eyes flashed with disbelief as he growled. "Kaelion, are you crazy?" he snapped. "Demonic beasts are coming. We need to act fast!"

    Kaelion casually twirled the dagger in his hand. "Valen predicted this," he said, his tone almost detached. "He¡¯s prepared an undead army to deal with the beasts."

    As if on cue, two skeleton soldiers entered the storage, dragging the bloodied body of a demonic lion between them.

    Kaelion looked at Aveline with a smirk. "See? The undead army will handle the beasts, while Valen and Eryndor will take care of Saria. The real matter now is you, Aveline. As a loyal member of the Crimson Sun, I can''t just let a Saintess of the Heralds live."

    Thalric calmed down and turned around. "Master, let''s go. We need to go and fight the beasts."

    Aveline¡¯s heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the weight of betrayal settled in her chest like a stone. Her fists clenched, but her voice was steady as she confronted them. "You can''t betray me. We¡¯re bound by contract."

    Thalric, standing silent until then, spoke up, his voice calm but resolute. "Don¡¯t misunderstand, Aveline," he said softly. "We haven¡¯t betrayed you. I¡¯m just going to help the townsfolk deal with the beasts. Let¡¯s go, Master."

    Aveline¡¯s eyes widened in shock. She took a step back, her mind racing.

    Lyssa, who had been watching in silence, suddenly stepped in front of Aveline, her body tense. "No," she said firmly. "I¡¯m not going to betray Aveline." Her hands clenched into fists as if bracing herself for what was to come.

    Thalric¡¯s expression shifted, his earlier calm faltering. "Master," he said, his voice edged with impatience, "let¡¯s go. The people need us."

    Lyssa¡¯s voice trembled slightly, but her eyes were determined. "I¡­ I need to change. If I want to win, I can¡¯t remain a coward anymore."

    Kaelion chuckled. "Thalric, I pity you," he said. "You¡¯ve got a stupid master." His eyes flickered to Lyssa for a moment, then back to Thalric.

    Thalric scratched his head, but instead of backing down, he let out a growl. "You talk too much, Kaelion." Without another word, he lunged at him, claws flashing through the air.

    Kaelion barely had time to react. He leaped backward, his feet skimming the floor as he avoided Thalric¡¯s sharp claws by inches. "Is this what you choose, Thalric? Aveline will stand in your master''s way later."

    Lyssa¡¯s eyes softened, her expression touched by Thalric¡¯s unexpected decision. Before she could say a word, his hand lashed out. The back of his hand struck her, sending her crashing into a stack of crates. The wood splintered under the impact, and Lyssa slumped to the ground, motionless.

    Thalric stood still, his clawed hand trembling as he muttered under his breath. "Lyssa¡­ you¡¯re too kind. You don¡¯t belong here. This place will destroy you, but I¡¯ll protect you, no matter what. Even if it means you¡¯ll hate me for it."

    He turned to Aveline, his eyes clouded with guilt but resolute. "I¡¯m sorry, Aveline," he said. "You made a contract with Lyssa, but not with me."

    Before Aveline could respond, Thalric moved to Lyssa¡¯s unconscious body. He lifted her, his gaze never wavering from Kaelion. "Do what you have to do," he growled.

    Kaelion¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, but he said nothing as Thalric carried Lyssa out of the storage house. The heavy door creaked shut behind him, leaving Aveline and Kaelion alone.

 Chapter 31: Valen vs Saria

    Valen stood atop a rooftop, the wind tugging at his robe as he gazed into the orb in his hand. Within its shimmering depth, the image of Eryndor emerged, pacing along a street across from Saria''s base. The view came courtesy of an undead familiar silently shadowing Eryndor from the shadow.

    The plan was straightforward, at least on the surface. Valen would take down the golems guarding Saria''s stronghold, forcing her to abandon her defenses. Once she stepped outside, Eryndor would be waiting to engage her in what he imagined would be a fair fight.

    That was a mere distraction. Valen had no intention of letting the fool claim the glory the prize that came with defeating Saria. Eryndor¡¯s trust in him was laughable, a naivety Valen planned to exploit to the fullest.

    He had foreseen Saria¡¯s counterattack, her inevitable desperation. She would resort to harvesting the souls of the townsfolk to summon an army of demonic beasts. It was a vile but predictable move, one Valen had anticipated. His preparations were already in place, a countermeasure waiting to be unleashed. To execute it, he needed Eryndor gone. Out of the way from stopping him.

    A man knelt before Valen, his head bowed low. ¡°The preparations are complete,¡± he said.

    This man was one of Valen¡¯s helpers, a crucial piece in the game Valen had orchestrated. The rules of the Deathmatch were clear¡ªno expert-class individuals could be enlisted as allies. However, helpers from outside were fair game.

    Saria had brought Aveline to her side. Lyssa had chosen Thalric. Naturally, Valen had recruited his own forces too. Many of the townsfolk had willingly become his eyes and ears, providing him with information and ensuring his plans advanced smoothly.

    Saria, in her wrath, had burned them away¡ªincinerating those loyal to him without hesitation. It was an unfortunate setback, but Valen merely considered it a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme. There was always a way to adjust the board, to realign the pieces in his favor. The remaining helpers would suffice for what came next.

    Valen and the man descended to the ground. They approached a gathering of several men waiting on the street. Behind them, a thousand coffins arranged in rows.

    ¡°I thank you for your effort, gentlemen,¡± Valen said.

    If Eryndor was anywhere nearby, he would surely interfere. The fool would see these coffins and assume the worst, disrupting Valen''s carefully laid plans.

    This wasn¡¯t how Valen had envisioned using the coffins. He had planned to save them for the final battle, a trump card for the endgame. However, Saria¡¯s madness had forced his hand. For that, he couldn¡¯t help but admire her.

    Valen stepped forward, holding a ritual lantern in one hand. Its glass shimmered faintly as he whispered an incantation in the magic language. A moment later, glowing wisps of souls emerged from the lantern, swirling toward the coffins like moths drawn to a flame.

    The coffins rattled as the souls entered them. Valen raised the lantern high. ¡°Rise, my undead soldiers!¡±

    The coffin lids burst open, and skeletal warriors emerged. Each was armed with weapons and armors. These weren¡¯t mere undead; they were level 20 skeleton soldiers.

    Valen gestured toward the horizon. ¡°Hunt the demonic beasts. Leave nothing standing.¡±

    The skeleton soldiers marched forward. As they spread out, Valen allowed himself a rare grin. Saria wouldn¡¯t survive the night.

    Kaelion was already deep in his mission, preparing to assassinate a weakened Aveline after using a tampered magic circle that consumed her mana. Once that was done, only Arayn and Eryndor would remain. Valen had no doubts. He would crush them both and emerge as the champion of this deathmatch.

    Valen and his followers moved through the battlefield. Skeleton soldiers clashed with demonic beasts all around them. Valen paid no mind to the carnage. His focus was ahead, on his true target.

    At last, they reached Saria. She stood among her golems, waiting for him her. A faint smirk tugged at her lips as she said, ¡°I knew you¡¯d be the first to come for me, Valen, but do you really think you can defeat me?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°A reckless woman like you has no right to act so mighty.¡±

    Without another word, he thrust his spear forward, its tip glinting as it shot toward her. Before it could land, a barrier of magic flared to life around her, deflecting the attack with ease.

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed as he pulled back, his grip tightening on the spear. He knew things wouldn¡¯t be as simple as he had imagined.

    Valen¡¯s followers launched into the fray. The melee fighters darted in, hacking at the golems. Long-range attackers rained arrows and spells from a distance, their shots carving into the golems¡¯ molten bodies. The tanks held their ground, intercepting the golems'' strikes with shields reinforced by mana, while healers bolstered their allies with healing magic and barriers.

    One golem lunged forward, its flaming fist crashing into the earth. The tank nearest it raised his shield just in time, the force of the blow sending tremors through the ground. Another fighter, a dual-wielder, slid beneath the golem¡¯s arm and drove his blades into its leg, cracking it under the assault. A burst of ice magic from a mage above struck the golem¡¯s chest, freezing parts of its fiery core before an archer¡¯s enchanted arrow shattered it. The golem crumbled into lifeless embers.

    The second and third golems fell in quick succession, the combined assault overwhelming their defenses. However, the fourth proved more resilient. Its body burned hotter as it batted away an approaching fighter with a flaming swipe. The supporter barely managed to stabilize him with a burst of healing, but even that wasn¡¯t enough to counteract the burns. The archer loosed a final arrow that pierced its core, bringing it down at last.

    The last two golems unleashed a wave of fire, scattering Valen¡¯s followers. One fighter tried to charge but was caught mid-step by a fiery blast, his armor glowing red before he collapsed. Another tried to protect the group with a barrier spell, but the golems crushed through it effortlessly.

    One by one, Valen¡¯s followers fell, their attacks no longer enough to hold back the relentless infernal creatures.

    Now only the last two golems stood. They turned and marched to Saria¡¯s side.

    Valen lunged at Saria without hesitation. His spear glowed with magic as it struck her barrier, sending sparks flying with each impact. Saria retaliated, summoning a torrent of flames that roared toward him like a tidal wave. Valen spun his spear, slicing through the fire and dissipating the flames.

    ¡°As expected, you are nothing without your familiars. Do you think you are qualified to be the successor of our cult with this level of power?¡± he taunted.

    Her eyes narrowed as she raised her wand, conjuring two fiery whips that lashed out at him. Valen dodged the first with a sidestep and deflected the second with his spear, the flames coiling around the shaft before he twisted free.

    The two golems joined the fray, one swinging a molten fist toward Valen. He leaped back, the fist smashing into the ground where he¡¯d stood moments before. The second golem lunged, its flames surging, but Valen countered with a spear strike imbued with magic. The tip pierced the golem¡¯s shoulder, causing it to stagger, molten rock dripping from the wound.

    Saria capitalized on the moment, launching a massive fireball. Valen spun his spear in a wide arc, a barrier of energy forming around him just as the fireball struck. The explosion rocked the ground, but when the smoke cleared, Valen stood unscathed.

    He grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll need more than this to stop me, Saria.¡±

    Saria laughed in mockery as she called out, ¡°Men always become fools when a fight is involved, don¡¯t they?¡± She smirked. ¡°Tell me, Valen, why do you think my grand magic circle doesn¡¯t heal my golems?¡±

    Valen¡¯s brow furrowed in thought. Though his face grew serious, he remained calm, his grip on his spear unwavering.

    Saria¡¯s laughter rang out. ¡°You¡¯re the reckless one, Valen. Charging into my grand magic circle without proper preparation? You¡¯ve already lost!¡±

    She raised her wand and shouted, ¡°[Infernal Serpents Requiem]!¡± The magic circle beneath her blazed with intensity, and from its glowing runes erupted four massive serpents, their bodies forged entirely from flame. Each serpent coiled and hissed, their fiery forms twisting before surging toward Valen.

    Valen¡¯s grip tightened on his weapon as he called its name, ¡°Aetherfang!¡± The spear glowed with a blue light. ¡°[Flight]!¡± he commanded, and the spear¡¯s ability activated, propelling him into the air. He soared above the battlefield, evading the serpents as they snapped and coiled after him, their heat scorching the air.

    Valen noticed the magic circle beneath Saria slowly dimming, the runes fading as the serpents drained its power. He frowned, realizing the circle¡¯s duration was limited. However, waiting wasn¡¯t an option. He couldn¡¯t evade forever.

    ¡°You¡¯re wrong,¡± Valen said. ¡°If you think I came unprepared, you¡¯ve underestimated me. I calculated my moves and even used the wealth of my family to help me!¡±

    The first serpent lunged, its fiery maw snapping shut before exploding in a violent burst of heat and light. Valen reached into his robe, retrieving a stack of enchanted parchment. He raised them, shouting, ¡°[Instant Magic Scrolls: Barriers]!¡±

    A series of magical barriers formed around him. The second serpent crashed into them, its explosion shattering several layers, but the remaining barriers held firm. Valen didn¡¯t flinch, his composure unbroken as he adjusted his spear.

    The final two serpents hissed and twisted, but Valen moved swiftly. With a sharp swing, he hurled Aetherfang toward Saria, the spear streaking through the air like a comet. At the same time, the last two serpents converged on him, their fiery bodies detonating in unison. The sky lit up with a blinding inferno, the deafening roar of the explosion reverberating across the battlefield.

 Chapter 32: Pulling Out the First Straw

    The Fungal Titan loomed over Arayn, its towering form a grotesque mass of fungi and twisted roots. Then, with a deep rumble, the monster unleashed its ability, [Mycelium Growth]. The ground split open. Minions clawed their way out, their bloated bodies twitching as if eager to explode.

    Soren stood hidden within his [Camouflage Barrier], the distortion of his shield blending him into the environment. From the magic circle before him, he summoned three demon frogs. The creatures leapt into the fray, tearing into the fungal minions.

    As the spores erupted around them, the tide turned. The frogs'' movements faltered, their attacks growing sluggish. One by one, they collapsed, their bodies convulsing as the poison seeped through their veins. Within moments, they lay lifeless.

    Soren¡¯s lips tightened in frustration as he glanced at the remnants of his summons. He raised his hand, ready to summon another batch.

    "Don¡¯t waste your time," Arayn said, not even sparing a glance in Soren¡¯s direction as he cleaved through another minion without making them explode. "Use your long-range attacks instead. Support me from a distance."

    Amidst the chaos, Arayn moved. He severed a minion in two, the halves crumbling into ash before they could detonate. Another creature lunged at him, but Arayn was faster. His blade slashed upward, cleaving it apart midair.

    Malzareth absorbed their souls greedily, its glow growing brighter with each kill. The Fungal Titan roared in frustration, summoning more minions, but Arayn¡¯s [Demonic Aura] was suffocating. A weight pressed down on the battlefield, slowing the monsters down.

    Arayn grinned as he sliced through another minion, Malzareth vibrating with satisfaction in his hand. The crimson blade seemed to sing with each kill, as if it thrived on the chaos around him. It was a feast, and Arayn was savoring every moment.

    The Fungal Titan towered in the distance, summoning wave after wave of its spore-ridden soldiers. It bellowed its frustration, the sound echoing across the battlefield, but Arayn ignored it. Why rush the climax? He had no intention of striking down the mother-class monster just yet. These minions were fuel. Their souls fed him, each kill adding to his lifespan.

    Another minion charged at him, its fungal limbs twitching as if ready to burst. He sidestepped effortlessly, swinging Malzareth in a sharp arc. The creature¡¯s body crumbled mid-motion, its soul siphoned into the sword before it could even detonate.

    "Keep them coming," Arayn muttered. His aura radiated outwards, a suffocating force that slowed the movements of the freshly spawned minions. They staggered toward him, their bodies trembling under the oppressive weight of his presence. It was almost too easy.

    The Fungal Titan roared again, its frustration mounting as it continued to summon reinforcements. The ground split open in rapid succession, dozens more minions clawing their way to the surface. Arayn tilted his head, observing them like a hunter sizing up prey.

    "Still not enough," he said, the corners of his mouth curling upward.

    He moved again, faster than the eye could follow. Malzareth carved through the crowd, leaving behind a trail of disintegrating bodies. The blade drank deeply, its glow intensifying with every soul it claimed. One after another, the minions fell, their explosions snuffed out before they could pose a threat.

    Soren¡¯s voice echoed from within his barrier. "You¡¯re enjoying this too much, Master."

    Arayn laughed. "Why shouldn¡¯t I? They keep throwing fodder at me. It¡¯s perfect."

    Soren shook his head, though Arayn couldn¡¯t see it. "I''m tired, Master."

    Arayn didn¡¯t respond. His attention was fixed on the Titan, watching as it raised its massive arms to summon yet another wave of minions. He adjusted his grip on Malzareth, the blade pulsing as if eager for more. "I guess it''s time to end this," he said.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Step by step, Arayn advanced toward the Titan, Malzareth carving through the minions that dared to block his path.

    As he closed in, the Fungal Titan bellowed, its massive body trembling. Suddenly, its body swelled, releasing a wave of spores. Arayn¡¯s instincts kicked in, and he leapt back just as the spores detonated, sending a fiery blast rippling through the clearing. He landed gracefully, gripping Malzareth tightly as the shockwave passed.

    "Tch, not bad," he muttered. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled a [Cursed Fang], it streaking toward the Titan. The projectile struck, but before it could pierce deep, another burst of spores detonated on impact, neutralizing the attack. Arayn narrowed his eyes, assessing the situation as he stayed out of the Titan''s range.

    True to its cowardice, the monster began summoning more minions. Arayn smirked, unimpressed. He charged forward again, Malzareth glowing as he swung in fluid arcs. The minions fell easily, their bodies crumbling before they could even explode.

    "This thing¡¯s strategy is clear," Arayn said, his voice carrying a note of disdain. "When someone gets close, it spews explosive spores. If you keep your distance, it hides behind its minions. This monster is really a coward."

    He stepped back. "Let¡¯s see if you can block all of my fangs."

    With a snap of his fingers, Arayn summoned dozens of [Cursed Fangs]. The crimson fangs floated in the air, circling him like a whirlwind. At the same time, the Titan emitted a thick cloud of spores.

    Arayn unleashed his fangs, sending them hurtling toward the Titan in a blinding barrage. Explosions erupted mid-air as the fangs collided with the spores, flashes of fire and energy lighting up the battlefield. Yet some of the fangs broke through, streaking toward the Titan. They struck its massive body, detonating on impact and tearing chunks of its fungal mass apart.

    The Titan roared, staggering from the blows. Arayn took the opportunity to end the fight. He raised his hand, dark-red energy coiling around it like a serpent. "Time to finish this," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

    With a push, he unleashed [Inferno Torrent]. A wave of energy surged forward, piercing the Titan. The monster¡¯s roars turned into desperate, choking wails before it finally crumbled, its remains disintegrating into ash.

    [You have leveled up]

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 19

    Strength: 27

    Dexterity: 26

    Constitution: 38

    Intelligence: 40

    Wisdom: 24

    Charisma: 30]

    Arayn lowered his hand, Malzareth vibrating with satisfaction. "Thanks for the meal. My sword and I are satisfied," he muttered, turning away as the ash scattered.

    Arayn glanced at his status window, his eyes scanning the glowing numbers. His dexterity and wisdom had both risen further, a pleasant result of the Wisp of Demon Souls buff. He couldn''t help but smirk, satisfied with the progress.

    Soren, still hidden within his [Camouflage Barrier], deactivated the shield, his figure appearing as he approached Arayn.

    Arayn turned toward him. "What level are you now?"

    Soren hesitated for a brief moment, then answered, "Level 10."

    Arayn nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Not bad. You¡¯ll stop being a newbie once you hit level 11. But for now, your power¡¯s enough to be useful."

    Soren let out a soft smile. "I didn¡¯t expect to grow stronger this quickly."

    Arayn¡¯s lips twisted into a small grin. "It¡¯s thanks to the Wisp of Demon Souls buff. But now that it¡¯s worn off, it¡¯s time to head back to town."

    Soren nodded, a faint look of disappointment crossing his face as the effects of the buff faded. Arayn started walking, his pace unhurried.

    As Arayn stepped out of the forest, the first light of morning bathed them. The thick smoke that had once choked the sky was gone, and the fires had been extinguished, leaving only faint wisps trailing upward.

    Soren walked up beside him, glancing at the town with a mix of relief and exhaustion. "Looks like it¡¯s not burning anymore," he said. "Glad we spent the night in the forest. Wouldn¡¯t have wanted to deal with that chaos up close."

    Arayn stopped, his demonic sword resting against his shoulder as he stared at the town''s heart. Without speaking aloud or using any tool, he reached out with his thoughts. "Darius, is Saria dead?"

    Far within the town¡¯s center, inside the neutral zone, Darius turned his head as though hearing a voice whispered directly into his mind. "She¡¯s alive, but her fate is in 346!$94''s hands now."

    A sly grin crept onto Arayn¡¯s face. "I think I know what¡¯s going on," he muttered to himself, the pieces of a greater plan falling into place in his mind.

    Turning to Soren, who stood quietly behind him, Arayn motioned toward the town with a casual wave. "Come on. I¡¯ll need your power for my scheme."

    Arayn led the way as he and Soren slipped past the ruined gates. As they navigated the shadowed streets, Arayn¡¯s mind reached out to Darius. "Where is Saria?"

    A faint whisper echoed in his thoughts, "She¡¯s near the eastern district, close to the old bell tower."

    Arayn nodded to himself and veered into a narrow alley, the space between the crumbling walls barely wide enough for the two of them. He stopped, leaning against the wall and gestured for Soren to follow.

    Soren, trying to match Arayn¡¯s quiet composure, glanced around the dim alleyway. "What''s my task, Master? I will do anything for you," he asked.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a sly smirk, his crimson eyes glinting faintly in the shadows. "I want you to...."

 Chapter 33: Homunculus Twins

    The light cast shadows across the walls as Saria stood frozen, her back pressed against the bricks. A monstrous dog advanced on her, its low growl rumbling. This was her "test of survival," a cruel trial devised by the cult.

    Her heart pounded as the creature closed in. She wanted to run, to scream, but fear rooted her in place.

    "Saria!" a voice called out as the door slammed open.

    Lorian, her twin brother, appeared at the entrance. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward her, placing himself between her and the beast.

    "Lorian, you can¡¯t!" Saria shouted in panic.

    Ignoring her plea, he grabbed a discarded torch and charged at the creature. It roared, swiping at him with claws that cut the air like blades, but Lorian ducked and struck back. The beast lashed out, raking his side, but Lorian dodged.

    Lorian rammed the torch into the creature¡¯s throat. Its dying roar echoed off the stone walls before it collapsed.

    Breathing heavily, Lorian turned to Saria. Blood stained his clothes, and his hands shook as he lowered the torch. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

    She shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she ran to him. "What are you thinking? You will be punished!" she exclaimed, clutching his arm as if afraid to let him go.

    "I couldn¡¯t let that monster kill you. I have told our father that you aren''t ready yet, but he still insisted on throwing you in the test," he said.

    Saria looked up at him. "He wasn''t in the wrong. I am too weak."

    "That''s not true. When we work together, we are invincible."

    Saria shook her head. "Your growth is too fast, brother. However, I won''t give up. I will definitely catch up to you. Until that moment, can you promise to wait for me?"

    He nodded without hesitation. "I promise, Saria. Together, we are invincible."

    Their bond became unshakable that day.

    ---

    Several months later, their father summoned them to his working room. Candlelight flickered, casting uneven shadows that danced across the walls. Their father¡¯s stern face emerged from the gloom as he spoke to Lorian and Saria, his words devoid of emotion.

    "Lorian, you are to enter The Pit," their father declared, his voice echoing against the stone walls.

    Lorian''s jaw tightened. He had heard whispers of the brutal deathmatch ritual, but hearing his fate spoken aloud made it all too real.

    "The Pit?" Saria stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists. "You can¡¯t just send him there! Do you even understand what you¡¯re asking him to do?"

    Their father turned his cold gaze to her. "It is not your place to question my decisions," he said. "The Pit is a sacred trial, one that separates the weak from the strong. Lorian has the potential to endure it. You do not."

    "That''s not true!" she snapped, her voice rising with anger. "I can fight! I can¡ª"

    "You will not interfere." Their father¡¯s voice dropped to a chilling whisper. As he spoke, an oppressive aura radiated from him, aimed directly at Saria. She flinched, feeling his power press against her chest.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    He let the silence hang for a moment, his gaze hardening. Then, his attention shifted to Lorian. "The rules are clear. From six in the morning to two in the morning, participants may kill. At two, inspections will determine the survivors. If there are six left, the trial will end. Malrik''s son will participate in this event. I don''t care what you do. Even if it kills you, you need to kill him." He paused, locking eyes with Lorian. "My son will not fail, won''t he?"

    Lorian couldn¡¯t afford to show weakness. He felt the burning intensity of his father¡¯s aura, a reminder of the expectations he had to meet. His throat tightened, but he swallowed the fear that clawed at him.

    He glanced at Saria, her face pale with concern, but he knew there was no turning back. He had been chosen. He had to survive.

    His father¡¯s cold eyes bored into him, and for a moment, there was no sound but the suffocating silence of the room. Then, Lorian said, "I won''t fail you, father."

    His father nodded once, a brief acknowledgment before he continued, "The first-ranked survivor of The Pit will earn the highest reward, a meeting with Archdemon Tyras himself. That Arayn has the potential to rise to greatness. If he meets the Archdemon, I can''t imagine what benefits he will receive. We cannot let another Azael rise to prominence."

    Saria, who had remained silent, finally spoke. "Can my brother refuse? He has a lot of potential. If you want our family to achieve greatness, you can nurture him. If you need a doll to throw away, use me. Let me take my brother''s place!"

    "You will bring shame upon yourself and our family," their father said without hesitation. "You are just our honey trap doll, Saria. Your job is to grow pretty so you can pull a talented cultist into our family. That is your destiny. As for you, Lorian, you are just a doll for us to use and throw as we like. Who do you think you are? Don''t think that you can replace my actual children, Homunculus!"

    Saria clenched her fists, her frustration boiling beneath her skin as their father¡¯s harsh words struck her like a whip. She and Lorian were nothing more than homunculi, creations forged from the DNA of their father¡¯s real children who had died years ago. They had no true bloodline, no true legacy. They were just vessels for their father¡¯s twisted desires, made to fill the emptiness left behind.

    Saria''s breath hitched as she fought back the surge of anger. She hated being treated like a mere object. A doll. Her purpose was to grow pretty, to ensnare a talented cultist for their family¡¯s gain. That wasn¡¯t her desire. She had her own ambitions. She wanted to prove that she wasn¡¯t just a product of her father''s twisted machinations. She was more than that.

    She wasn¡¯t a doll. And she would never accept being treated as such.

    Saria took a step closer to her brother, her anger now laced with desperation. "Then let me go with him! I won¡¯t just stand by while he¡ª"

    "Enough!" Their father¡¯s voice thundered, silencing her. "This is not about your feelings, Saria. This is about Lorian¡¯s purpose. You are not to interfere. Do you understand me?"

    Saria bit her lip, her fists trembling at her sides, but she said nothing more.

    Lorian placed a hand on her shoulder. "I¡¯ll be fine," he said, his words meant to reassure her, though he didn¡¯t entirely believe them himself.

    Saria turned to him. "Promise me you¡¯ll come back," she whispered, her voice breaking.

    "I promise," he said, though the weight of his words felt like a noose tightening around his neck.

    Their father stepped forward, his presence looming. "Prepare yourself, Lorian. The Pit awaits, and the strong survive. The weak perish."

    As their father left the room, the silence that followed was suffocating. Lorian and Saria stood together, bound by fear and the promise that neither of them truly knew if they could keep.

    ---

    The Hall of Whispers was crowded, its massive structure filled to the brim with eager onlookers. The participants stood at the center. The spectators packed the stands, watching intently, their murmurs of excitement rising as the event drew near.

    As the elder of the cult stepped forward, the noise gradually faded, and the hall fell into silence. His voice echoed throughout the hall as he began announcing the names of those who would fight. Then, the elder called out Saria¡¯s name.

    Lorian¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Her name? She wasn¡¯t supposed to be in the event. Their father had strictly forbidden it.

    Saria unveiled her cloak as she approached her brother. ¡°I entered the event secretly,¡± she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. ¡°I didn¡¯t care about Father¡¯s orders. I want to prove that I¡¯m not just a doll. We are not. I want to help you too.¡±

    Lorian¡¯s anger flared, his fists clenched at his sides. ¡°You¡ªthis is madness!¡± he hissed, stepping forward. ¡°You know what this means. You can¡¯t just defy Father like that! You¡¯re going to get yourself killed!¡±

    Saria¡¯s gaze remained steady. ¡°Together, Lorian,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re invincible. You don¡¯t have to fight alone anymore.¡±

    Lorian hesitated. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing on him, the terrible risk, but her words¡ªthe certainty in her eyes¡ªpulled at something deep within him. He looked at her for a long moment, his mind racing. They were homunculi, yes, but perhaps, they could be more than what their father had made them to be.

    With a sigh, Lorian finally nodded. ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t leave my side.¡±

 Chapter 34: The Pit

    The Pit. A cave near the Abyssal Wellspring, a natural fissure filled with abundant demonic energy that pulsed at the Infernal Bastion''s core. The ground was cracked and uneven, warped by the constant flow of demonic power. The heat radiated from the depths of the Wellspring, making every breath feel like it was being drawn from a furnace.

    Days passed. Saria and Lorian fought side by side. They were a perfect duo, each anticipating the other''s actions as if they could read each other''s minds. When one struck, the other covered their back, ensuring no attack went unanswered. Together, they dismantled their foes with efficiency.

    The siblings were a force, and together, almost no one could stand against them. As they moved through the Pit, defeating one opponent after another.

    After defeating a lot of opponents, the final stages of the deathmatch loomed as only seven participants remained. The cracked ground of the Pit bore the scars of countless battles. Saria and Lorian stood face-to-face with the four other survivors in a rare moment of truce.

    ¡°We end this by taking down Arayn,¡± one of the contestants declared. ¡°With him gone, the ritual ends. It¡¯s our chance.¡±

    The others nodded, determination etched into their weary faces. Lorian agreed without hesitation. Assassinating Arayn was his mission to begin with.

    As the alliance took shape, Saria couldn¡¯t shake an uneasy feeling twisting in her chest. While the others spoke of ambushes and plans, she remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the ground. She had seen the way Arayn moved, the terrifying dexterity in his footwork.

    Lorian noticed her silence and whispered, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    Her lips pressed into a thin line before she finally murmured, ¡°It won¡¯t be that simple. He¡¯s... different. Stronger than all of us combined. He must have a secret.¡±

    Lorian met her gaze, his resolve unshaken. ¡°Whatever his secret is, we¡¯ll adapt. Together, we can outsmart him. We have to. This is our chance to prove that we are not just a doll.¡±

    Despite his confidence, Saria¡¯s doubt lingered, gnawing at the edges of her mind as the group solidified their plan. In her heart, she knew the battle ahead would be nothing like they had faced before.

    The ambush began with a burst of desperate resolve. The four participants launched themselves at Arayn in an attempt to overwhelm him. Blades flashed, spells unleashed, and battle cries echoed through the cavernous Pit.

    Arayn was a phantom of death, moving faster than any of them could track. His figure blurred, slipping past strikes and spells. One participant lunged, only for Arayn to appear behind him, his hand glowing with dark energy. A single touch, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

    Saria¡¯s heart pounded as she watched in horror. Another fighter swung a massive hammer, roaring with fury, but Arayn sidestepped the attack and placed a hand on his chest. The fighter froze, eyes wide, before collapsing. The others fared no better¡ªeach dispatched with the same efficiency.

    In mere moments, the Pit was silent. The four were gone, their bodies strewn across the ground like discarded toys.

    Saria barely had time to react before Arayn turned his gaze toward her and Lorian. She felt the pressure radiating from his crimson eyes. Before she could even raise her wand, Arayn surged forward, too fast to follow.

    The blow wasn¡¯t meant for her¡ªit was aimed at Lorian. He dove in front of her, taking the brunt of the attack. Blood sprayed as he hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.

    ¡°Lorian!¡± Saria cried, dropping to his side.

    Arayn stood over them, his expression one of utter disdain. ¡°This is what you call an alliance? Worms. Did you really think you could defeat me with such laughable tactics?¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Saria glared up at him, trembling with a mix of fear and fury. Arayn chuckled. "Futile. All of it. You should have accepted your place as my pawns and stayed out of my way."

    Saria clutched Lorian''s hand, her mind racing for a way out, but Arayn remained unmoving, his presence suffocating any hope she had left.

    Lorian staggered to his feet, clutching his side where blood seeped through his torn clothing. His breaths were ragged, his face pale, but his resolve burned brighter than ever. He turned to Saria, his voice strained but determined.

    ¡°Saria,¡± he said, his gaze locking with hers. ¡°I figured out his secret skill. His ability¡ªit¡¯s tied to his dexterity. He¡¯s burning through his dexterity stat to stay ahead of us.¡±

    Saria¡¯s eyes widened, her hands trembling around her wand. ¡°You¡¯re in no shape to fight him, Lorian. Stop¡ª¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he cut her off, his voice a desperate growl. ¡°If we wait, we¡¯re dead. We have to press him now, together. His ability won¡¯t last forever!¡±

    Without waiting for her reply, Lorian surged forward, his ability activating. His movements became sharper, faster, his injured body ignoring its limitations. His steps left cracks in the stone as he closed the distance to Arayn with blinding speed.

    Saria gritted her teeth, her heart pounding as she followed his charge, her wand ready. They attacked in unison, Lorian¡¯s enhanced physiology creating openings while Saria left a few shallow wounds.

    For a moment, it seemed as though they were making progress. Lorian¡¯s strikes forced Arayn to defend, his once-flawless movements becoming just slightly less fluid. Saria launched a glancing blow, cutting a shallow wound along his arm.

    Arayn sidestepped Lorian¡¯s triple slashes, twisted past Saria¡¯s projectile, and moved with a force that left them reeling.

    ¡°Now, it''s slightly entertaining,¡± Arayn remarked. ¡°But it''s not enough.¡±

    Lorian lunged again, his strikes growing wild as his body began to falter. Arayn seized the opening, his hand glowing with dark energy.

    ¡°No!¡± Saria screamed, but she was too late.

    Arayn¡¯s [Soul Rend] activated, black tendrils erupting from his hand and piercing through Lorian¡¯s chest. The energy coiled and twisted, draining the very essence of his life. Lorian gasped, his knees buckling as his sword clattered to the ground.

    ¡°Saria¡­¡± he rasped, his voice weak yet unwavering. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fell to his knees, his trembling hand reaching for her. ¡°Survive. Live¡­ for both of us.¡±

    Arayn retracted the tendrils, and Lorian collapsed, lifeless, his eyes still open as if pleading for her to do well.

    Saria¡¯s world shattered. Her knees hit the ground beside his body, her chest heaving as a wave of grief and fury overtook her. Arayn stood over her, his expression indifferent.

    ¡°Another failure. How predictable.¡±

    Saria¡¯s hands clenched into fists, her mind a storm of despair and rage as she prepared for what felt like the end. "I will have my revenge. I will kill you and look down on you like a worm!"

    Arayn stood over Saria, his presence looming like a shadow of death. Black tendrils of energy coiled around his hand, crackling and writhing with an almost sentient hunger. He stared down at her, his lips curling into a faint, disdainful smile as he raised his hand, the dark energy building into a concentrated point.

    ¡°Die shamefully, Worm,¡± Arayn said.

    Saria couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t speak. Her body refused to obey her, paralyzed by fear and grief as she clutched Lorian¡¯s corpse tighter. Her mind screamed at her to do something, anything, but she could only watch as Arayn¡¯s hand descended, the dark energy surging toward her like a tidal wave of death.

    Before the blow could land, the chilling sound of the alarm echoed through the Pit, its relentless toll marking 2:00 AM. The signal stopped Arayn¡¯s strike mere inches from her face.

    He paused, the dark energy dissipating from his hand as his head turned toward the sound. The faint smirk returned to his lips.

    ¡°How ironic,¡± he said, his voice dripping with disdain. ¡°You, of all people, survive. Not through strength, not through cunning, merely by the clock¡¯s mercy.¡±

    Saria couldn¡¯t muster a response. Her throat felt raw, her chest heaving as sobs threatened to break free. Arayn tilted his head, observing her with a curiosity, as though weighing whether she was even worth the effort to finish off.

    ¡°I suppose leaving you alive is punishment enough,¡± he remarked, turning away. ¡°Face the consequences of your failure, little worm. Perhaps they¡¯ll teach you something your pathetic brother couldn¡¯t.¡±

    His figure faded into the darkness of the cavern, his steps eerily quiet against the cracked ground. Saria didn¡¯t watch him leave. Her focus remained on Lorian¡¯s face, her shaking fingers brushing the blood-streaked strands of his hair away from his pale features.

    Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to Lorian¡¯s still form, her voice breaking as she whispered, ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    Sorrow wasn¡¯t the only thing that filled her. A burning ember began to take root within her heart, feeding on the ashes of her grief. She placed a trembling hand over her brother¡¯s chest, her nails digging into her palm.

    ¡°I swear, Lorian,¡± she whispered, her voice trembling but fierce. ¡°I¡¯ll make him pay. I¡¯ll make them all pay.¡±

    In the heart of the desolate Pit, Saria¡¯s grief solidified into a vow. Alone and broken, she stared into the void left behind by her brother¡¯s death, her tears drying as the weight of her promise anchored her to the path ahead.

 Chapter 35: The First Straw

    Saria''s eyes fluttered open, the world swimming into view through a haze of pain. Her body screamed with every breath, throbbing and broken. She blinked, her vision sharpening enough to notice the crimson-soaked ground beneath her and the searing ache radiating from her right side. She tried to move her arm, but the stump where it had been brought a sickening wave of nausea. Her right arm was gone, severed. A deep wound marred her side.

    Valen''s spear stood embedded in the earth beside her. She tore her gaze from it and found him nearby. His body radiated heat, his charred robes still smoldering as wisps of smoke curled into the air. He was wounded, but his lips moved in a chant, a glow tracing over his blackened skin as his magic worked to mend him. The sight ignited a flicker of anger, but her fury faded as quickly as it rose. She tried to summon mana, to lash out at him, but her core was empty, hollowed by the battle.

    Valen stirred. His chanting faltered as he opened his eyes, his gaze snapping to hers. The air seemed to hold its breath as the two locked eyes. An unspoken tension coiled between them. He shifted, attempting to rise despite his blistered flesh.

    Panic gripped Saria. Was he going to strike her down? Her heart pounded, her breaths quick and shallow. She had no mana, no chance. Her instincts screamed at her to flee.

    She gritted her teeth and willed her battered body to move. Each twitch of her muscles sent shards of pain slicing through her nerves, but she rolled onto her stomach and staggered to her feet. Her legs wobbled beneath her, but she pushed forward, her feet dragging through the blood-soaked ground. She darted toward the street, forcing herself to keep moving despite the agony clawing at her.

    Her breathing was ragged. The coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, and she felt the drip of it from her side, marking her trail with crimson splatters. The world around her blurred as her focus narrowed to survival. Her footsteps were desperate.

    Every sound seemed amplified in her heightened state¡ªher heartbeat pounding in her ears, the faint hiss of wind through the ruins, and the wet patter of blood as it seeped from her wounds. She stumbled forward, away from Valen, away from the lingering shadow of death.

    Valen''s burnt hands trembled as he pressed them against his chest, his lips moving in incantations. Light magic flared to life in his palms, a soft yet blinding glow that poured into his battered body. The seared flesh began to knit together, blackened skin shedding to reveal pink tissue beneath. His breathing steadied. Despite the agony that clung to him like a shadow, his resilience shone through.

    He pushed himself to his feet. The lingering heat of his wounds didn¡¯t seem to deter him as the glow of his magic faded, leaving faint trails of steam rising from his body. His gaze flicked to the bloodstained path leading away from him, and his jaw tightened. Saria was running.

    Without hesitation, Valen began to move, his strides long and purposeful. Though the pain still simmered in his limbs, he pushed through it, his focus singular. His keen eyes tracked the crimson splatters, guiding him down the winding streets.

    He could hear her ahead¡ªher frantic, uneven steps, the ragged gasp of her breathing. She was close. Valen¡¯s pace quickened, a predator closing in on wounded prey.

    Valen¡¯s steps grew louder in Saria¡¯s ears. She stumbled forward, her vision blurring, her body screaming for rest. Just as the shadow of his presence seemed to loom over her, another figure emerged from the smoke-drenched street.

    Eryndor stepped into her path. His piercing eyes locked onto hers with disapproval.

    ¡°Do you have any idea what you¡¯ve done?¡± His voice rang out. ¡°A quarter of the town is in ruins, Saria. Innocent lives died because of your recklessness.¡±

    Saria winced. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out except a shallow wheeze. Her head dipped, avoiding his stare, but Eryndor wasn¡¯t finished.

    ¡°You can¡¯t keep fighting like this, thinking only of the enemy in front of you while ignoring the consequences. You¡¯re better than this,¡± he said.

    He stepped closer, his gaze flicking over her bloodied and battered form. With a resigned sigh, he reached out, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder. His expression softened further.

    ¡°Listen to me, Saria. You¡¯re in no condition to fight him,¡± he said. ¡°You need to keep moving. Go. Find shelter. I¡¯ll handle Valen. After this, let''s have a chat."Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Saria¡¯s lips parted, but Eryndor cut her off with a glance over her shoulder. The sound of Valen¡¯s boots echoed closer. Eryndor gave her a light push forward.

    ¡°Go!¡± he barked. ¡°I¡¯ll delay him as long as I can.¡±

    Saria hesitated for only a moment before nodding weakly. Her body protested every movement, but she forced herself to stagger away, her uneven footsteps fading into the distance.

    Eryndor straightened, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as Valen approached. His eyes narrowed.

    Valen¡¯s steps slowed as he came to a stop, his eyes narrowing at Eryndor, who was blocking his path. The anger in his gaze smoldered.

    ¡°What are you doing, Eryndor? We¡¯re in an alliance to defeat her, remember? She¡¯s the enemy. Why are you protecting her?¡±

    Eryndor met his gaze. ¡°She¡¯s been defeated, Valen. You¡¯ve broken her.¡± His eyes flicked toward Saria¡¯s retreating form, her blood staining the street. ¡°There¡¯s nothing more to gain from this fight.¡±

    Valen¡¯s patience thinned, his hands balling into fists. ¡°You don¡¯t get it, do you? We¡¯re in a deathmatch, Eryndor. In the end, one of us will kill the other. We¡¯ve both known this since the beginning. You can¡¯t just¡ª¡± He paused, his voice tightening. ¡°You can¡¯t just turn soft now. Not to mention, her demonic beasts are roaming about.¡±

    Eryndor¡¯s expression hardened, the slightest flicker of annoyance crossing his features. ¡°The terms of our alliance were clear. We agreed to spare her life. Do you really think killing her now would honor that?¡±

    Valen¡¯s gaze sharpened, a cold laugh escaping him. ¡°You¡¯re ridiculous. This isn¡¯t some noble mission of honor. We¡¯re in this to win, to survive. Killing each other is inevitable.¡± He stepped forward, pushing past Eryndor with a quiet growl. ¡°You¡¯re just delaying the inevitable.¡±

    Eryndor stepped in front of him again, unfazed. ¡°No, Valen. We cannot kill each other yet. Not before everyone knows who I truly am. I have a lot to say. I want to speak to each of you, one by one. Only then will it be the right time.¡±

    Valen paused, his brow furrowing in disbelief. ¡°You¡¯re ridiculous,¡± he muttered under his breath. ¡°This is insane.¡± His eyes flicked to Eryndor, annoyance clear on his face.

    Eryndor tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. ¡°So, are you going to fight me now, Valen? Are you really going to stop me?¡±

    Valen exhaled sharply, clearly worn out by the conversation, and turned his gaze away. He rubbed his temples, his patience clearly fraying. ¡°Do whatever you want. When you¡¯re done playing your little games, I expect you to finish it. Kill her after you¡¯re finished talking. I''m done with this. I''m not interested in claiming the reward of the first blood anymore."

    With that, Valen turned on his heel. He didn''t glance back as he walked away.

    Far from those two, Saria¡¯s legs faltered, her momentum slowing as if some invisible force had seized her, holding her in place. She tried to move, but her body refused to obey, as though it had been turned to stone. Panic surged through her, a cold knot tightening in her chest. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, her pulse racing. She was stuck, unable to move, every muscle in her body frozen in terror.

    The ground beneath her seemed to tilt, her vision swimming in a blur. Then, without warning, a beam sliced through the air, piercing her head. The force of it sent a shockwave through her skull, and for a heartbeat, she thought her vision would explode into darkness, but she remained alive, her heart still thundering in her chest.

    Her breath caught in her throat as fear clawed at her heart. She tried again to move, but her limbs remained rigid, frozen in place by some unseen force. Her mind screamed for control, her fingers twitching as she willed her body to respond, but it was no use.

    Each passing second felt like an eternity.

    The moment passed, the petrification lifting as quickly as it had come, but Saria¡¯s body remained stiff and unyielding. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, the weight of her wounds and exhaustion catching up to her. She tried to force herself up, but the effort was futile. Her body, drained and disobedient, refused to move.

    From the shadowed alley, a figure stepped into view. He was a handsome man whose features seemed chiseled. His white hair cascaded around his face. His crimson eyes fell on her with disdain.

    Arayn.

    His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of her, kneeling and broken before him, and a low chuckle escaped his lips. He looked genuinely surprised to see her still alive.

    ¡°Look at you, Worm,¡± he mused. ¡°Still breathing. How quaint.¡± He crossed his arms, stepping closer. ¡°I shot you in the head, and I thought you¡¯d be dead by now, but here you are.¡± He glanced down at her.

    Saria¡¯s heart thundered in her chest, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to speak, her mouth dry as dust.

    Arayn¡¯s smirk deepened as he leaned down. ¡°Funny, isn¡¯t it? You once knelt before me like this. And now¡­¡± He straightened, eyes glinting with amusement. ¡°Oh, well, I don''t fancy wasting my time on a worm. Shall we end your suffering now?¡±

    Saria¡¯s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone lodged deep in her chest. Her mind screamed for action, but her body remained helpless beneath him.

    Eryndor¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Stop!¡±

    Arayn paused, his smirk widening as he turned to face Eryndor. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement. ¡°Ah, Eryndor. I see you¡¯re still clinging to your origin. I''m glad that you are here."

    With a sudden grin, a second beam of energy shot from his outstretched hand, this one striking Saria¡¯s forehead directly. The force of it slammed her to the ground, her body crumpling as she collapsed into a prostrating position, her face pressed against the earth.

    Eryndor¡¯s eyes widened in horror as he rushed to her side, his steps quick and determined. His hands hovered over her, attempting to assess the damage, but his attention remained on Arayn¡ªwho had already leapt back, a satisfied grin playing on his lips.

    "One down. Four participants left," Arayn muttered to himself as he watched the scene unfold.

 Chapter 36: Maidens Heart

    Arayn¡¯s grin widened as Darius¡¯s voice echoed in his mind.

    ¡°Saria eliminated. You receive 200 souls, 100 for elimination, 100 for first blood.¡±

    The words settled in his mind, and for a fleeting moment, Arayn reflected on Saria¡¯s downfall. Impatience. That was her greatest flaw. She clung to her desire of proving her worth and misplaced bravery, yet it had all led to a pathetic, inevitable end. He found no pity for her, only a cold detachment that underscored his nature. The strong survived; the weak were swept aside.

    Turning his gaze back to Eryndor, Arayn taunted, ¡°Did you hear that, Eryndor? I am sure you did. First blood.¡± He let out a low chuckle. ¡°A little bonus for my efforts. Isn¡¯t that something?¡±

    Eryndor stepped forward, his jaw clenched as he confronted Arayn. Without hesitation, he activated [Corlust Eyes of Future Vision], the air around him shimmering faintly as the ability took hold. A future sight unfurled before him, sharpening his senses. In one harrowing vision, he saw Arayn¡¯s blade slashing across his eyes.

    Reacting instantly, Eryndor prepared to leap back, but just as his muscles tensed, his body froze in place. An invisible force gripped him, petrifying him mid-motion.

    Arayn¡¯s smirk deepened as he raised his sword, dark tendrils enveloping it. ¡°[Soul Rend],¡± he muttered. The blade hummed with dark energy as it sliced across Eryndor¡¯s eyes.

    The world around Eryndor dissolved into darkness as his vision was stripped away.

    Arayn took a step back. ¡°What¡¯s the point of seeing the future,¡± he mused, ¡°if your body can¡¯t keep up?¡±

    Eryndor¡¯s breathing grew ragged, the searing pain fueling his rage. With a roar, he unleashed a torrent of beam-like arcs from his sword, the radiant slashes tearing through the air.

    Arayn tilted his head, his eyes shifting toward the alley where Soren crouched in hiding. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face as he gauged the danger. The wild arcs threatened to carve through the alley¡¯s narrow confines, putting Soren in harm¡¯s way.

    With a sigh, Arayn stepped back. ¡°Don''t grieve, Eryndor. Losing your vision might be beneficial to you. Having ''assertion'' origin means you are a dominator, but you spoil yourself by depending on future vision. If you truly want to assert your dominance. First, assert dominance to yourself. I¡¯ll leave you for now, Eryndor. I¡¯d rather see what you¡¯re capable of when you reach your full potential. Don¡¯t make the mistake of challenging me until then. Next time, I won¡¯t be so merciful.¡±

    With that, he vanished into the shadows, leaving Eryndor seething and blind amidst the aftermath of his rage.

    Arayn slipped into the narrow alley, and Soren emerged from the shadow, his expression calm but expectant.

    ¡°Well played,¡± Arayn said, his crimson eyes locking onto Soren. ¡°Your timing with [Corlust Eyes of Petrification] was impeccable. It¡¯s not every day someone manages to support me so effectively in battle. You¡¯ve earned your place.¡±

    Soren nodded with a wide smile. ¡°I am glad I could be useful to you, Master.¡±

    "So... was the task hard?"

    Soren shook his head vigorously. "Not hard at all thanks to your instruction, master!"

    Arayn chuckled softly. ¡°I¡¯ll reward you properly for your efforts. I will buy you a magic wand. One that will suit your talents.¡±

    Soren¡¯s eyes gleamed with interest. ¡°I can''t thank you enough, Master.¡± The two began walking toward the mouth of the alley.

    ---

    The gates of Valtheran''s manor loomed in the distance, towering and foreboding. Pushing through the entrance, Thalric hurried inside, cradling the unconscious Lyssa in his arms. Her pale face rested against his chest, her fragile state fueling his urgency as he made his way to the manor¡¯s office.

    There, at the heart of the room, sat Darius. His brown eyes flicked to Thalric, who dropped to his knees without hesitation, Lyssa still held protectively in his grasp.

    ¡°Please,¡± Thalric began. ¡°Lyssa needs your healing. We will pay after you heal her. Just save her first.¡±

    Darius¡¯s lips curled into a smirk, his aura pressing down like an unseen weight. ¡°A werewolf groveling. How amusing.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°Tell me, Wolf, weren''t you the one who injured her? Now you are begging at my feet to save her?¡±

    Thalric¡¯s fists clenched, but he kept his head bowed. ¡°It wasn''t unintentional. I just did what I thought was the best for my master''s survival.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Darius rose, his presence suffocating as he stepped closer. ¡°Only participants may trade directly with me. You, a mere helper, cannot do that.¡±

    Thalric protested, ¡°Rules can be bent. You¡¯re powerful enough to make an exception!¡±

    Darius¡¯s laughter echoed through the room. ¡°Beast, you are telling me to break the rule that my Lord Sovereign has bestowed upon me?¡± He loomed over Thalric, his oppressive aura forcing the werewolf lower until his forehead nearly touched the floor. ¡°I forgive you once because demi humans are stupid. You will leave now, or you will not leave at all.¡±

    Thalric¡¯s heart thundered in his chest, his instincts screaming at him to flee. But he cast one last glance upward, his voice barely audible. ¡°Please, I hit her too hard. She would die.¡±

    Darius¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Then let her die. If a participant is weak enough to survive, just die.¡±

    With a flick of his hand, the oppressive aura vanished, leaving Thalric gasping for breath. Darius turned his back, his dismissal clear.

    Thalric staggered to his feet, bitterness and helplessness warring within him as he retreated from the room, his mind racing for another way to save Lyssa. Behind him, the door clanged shut, sealing his failure.

    "I did it again! I cannot protect someone again!" Thalric exclaimed out loud as he punched the wall.

    As Thalric walked away, he nearly collided with Alice in the corridor. She paused, her crimson eyes falling on Lyssa in his arms.

    "You look desperate," Alice remarked. "I can heal her, but¡­" She swept her white hair aside, tilting her head as it cascaded over her shoulder. "It will come with a cost. Dark magic always does."

    Thalric hesitated, his grip tightening around Lyssa. "What cost?"

    Alice waved a hand dismissively. "A human soul within six days, and she has to personally present it to Mistress Nyx. No exceptions."

    His jaw clenched, the weight of the decision bearing down on him, but Lyssa¡¯s shallow breathing spurred him forward. "I¡¯ll pay it. Just save her."

    Alice nodded. "Very well. Carry her to my room."

    Thalric followed her down the hallway. Inside Alice¡¯s chamber, Alice gestured to a mattress at the center of the room. "Lay her there."

    He complied, carefully placing Lyssa down as Alice began her ritual. Dark energy swirled around her hands, a sickly green light pooling over Lyssa¡¯s chest. Moments later, Lyssa¡¯s breathing steadied, color returning to her cheeks.

    "It¡¯s done," Alice announced, stepping back with a satisfied expression. "May I ask something now? Why was her soul injured? Normal healing power wouldn''t be able to heal her. You were lucky to encounter me."

    Thalric bowed at Alice. "First, let me express my thanks. Thank you. I accidentally unleashed my innate talent when hitting her. It was all accidental, but I can''t deny that''s all my fault."

    Alice¡¯s smile turned sharper. "I see. Then, I won''t pursue things further. I was just asking as a healer. Now for my personal fee." She folded her arms, eyes glinting with mischief. "Twice the price Darius would have charged. Think of it as a convenience fee."

    Thalric¡¯s gaze hardened, but he nodded. "You¡¯ll have your payment. Whatever it takes, I¡¯ll see it done once she wakes."

    "Good. You¡¯re far more agreeable than I expected, Lyssa''s helper. Let¡¯s hope you keep that promise."

    Lyssa''s eyes fluttered open, the haze of unconsciousness fading as the room came into focus. She blinked twice, her gaze landing on Alice, who sat nearby with a faint smile. Her cheeks flushed. Relief washed over her, but it was quickly replaced by anger as she spotted Thalric lingering in the corner.

    "You traitor!" Lyssa spat, struggling to sit up despite her lingering weakness. "How could you betray Aveline like this?"

    Thalric stiffened but didn¡¯t reply, his expression heavy with guilt. Before he could stammer out an explanation, Alice interjected, "Now, now, let¡¯s not get too worked up. He made a choice, Lyssa. Right or wrong, it¡¯s done. You need to focus on recovering. As for you, Mr. Silverfang, you need to leave a room for her to be alone."

    Thalric glanced at Alice, then back at Lyssa, his shoulders sagging. He gave a reluctant nod and stepped out of the room at Alice''s insistence, the door clicking softly behind him.

    Alice turned back to Lyssa, placing a tray on the bedside table. It held a steaming cup of tea and a plate of neatly arranged cookies. "Here," she said warmly, "something to help you relax. I imagine you¡¯ve been through quite a bit."

    Lyssa hesitated before taking the tea, the cup trembling slightly in her hands. Tears welled in her eyes. "Saria¡­ she''s gone. Lord Observer just informed us. Someone really died in this deathmatch," she whispered. "She was eliminated. Now, I¡­ I don¡¯t know what to do. It all feels so hopeless."

    Alice¡¯s expression softened as she perched on the edge of the bed, resting a reassuring hand on Lyssa¡¯s shoulder. "I understand how stressful your situation is, but you¡¯re still here, Lyssa. You still have a chance to fight."

    Lyssa¡¯s tears spilled over, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I¡¯m so tired of fighting against my will. It must be nice to live as you, princess. You always live comfortably." Her voice barely rose above a whisper as she clutched the tea tightly. "I wish I was you."

    Alice blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then her expression softened into something kind and understanding. "Miss Morgaine," she said gently, "you¡¯re allowed to feel vulnerable, but your opponents won''t care about your feelings. You need to focus on regaining your strength first and try your best to survive. If you come out as a victor, I''d gladly take your blame and stress all the time. The future isn¡¯t written yet, and there¡¯s still so much you can do."

    Lyssa sniffled, managing a shaky nod. Alice handed her a plate filled with cookies. "Here," she said with a small smile. "Something to remind you that even in the darkest times, there¡¯s still sweetness to be found."

    Lyssa received the plate, her resolve hardening as she stood, steadying herself. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice stronger now. "I¡¯ll fight. For her. For myself. For all of it."

    Alice gave a small nod. "I''m glad I could offer you a small comfort."

    Seeing her beautiful face, Lyssa blushed. "Say, princess, would you be alright if you were engaged with me?"

    Without hesitation, Alice replied, "If you become a victor, my life is yours. You can use me as you please. It''s my duty to honor the victor of this sacred ritual."

    "Princess, I promise I will treat you like a normal person if I become a victor. We will live as a normal couple and have a comfortable life! I swear I will survive to the end!" Lyssa exclaimed.

    "Do your best, Miss Morgaine. If my fate is with you, I''d accept it wholeheartedly."

    Lyssa''s face beamed. "Then I will do my best!" With the plate of cookies in her hand, she left the room, her steps purposeful as she walked toward the unknown, ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter 37: Odd Clones

    The window creaked open, and Arayn slipped into Alice¡¯s room; Soren followed behind. Arayn¡¯s crimson eyes gleamed, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against the wall. "Well, well," he drawled. "Aren''t you popular, Alice? That girl is head over heels for you."

    Alice, seated in her chair with a book in hand, shot him a glare. "Don''t misunderstand. I was merely playing my part. The girl¡¯s desperate and fragile, comforting her was a means to an end, nothing more."

    Arayn chuckled under his breath. "Nothing more, huh? Then why do I detect a trace of guilt in your voice?"

    Alice stood, her white hair falling over her shoulders as she fixed them with a cold stare. "Guilt? Don¡¯t be absurd. Lyssa¡¯s fate is sealed, and I did what was necessary to push her closer to accepting it. Her feelings are irrelevant, as is her survival."

    Arayn stepped forward, his grin widening. "Oh, Alice, your ability to weave webs never ceases to amaze me. That little display of compassion was masterful. You¡¯ve planted seeds of trust in Lyssa, drawing her ever closer to her origin."

    Alice arched a brow, folding her arms across her chest. "Are you here to praise my handiwork? That¡¯s uncharacteristically sentimental of you, Arayn."

    He laughed "Not sentimental, just appreciative. You¡¯ve taken the first step in turning her into exactly what I want her to be. It''s all merely for the sake of my entertainment."

    Alice sighed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Just don''t forget your real purpose in this ritual."

    Arayn¡¯s smile thinned, his gaze sharpening. "Of course. Although I can''t control the process, the result is in my palm. I just want the variables to move within my gaze. That said, do you have useful information for me?"

    Alice leaned against the edge of her desk, her white hair cascading over one shoulder. "Thalric is dangerous," she began. "That werewolf has a powerful soul-related ability. I figured it out after healing Lyssa."

    Arayn crossed his arms, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I noticed as much. Did you know his severed arm regenerated?" He tilted his head, his crimson eyes narrowing. "I cut it off myself using [Soul Rend]. That ability doesn¡¯t just sever flesh¡ªit severs the soul itself. Healing such a wound should be impossible unless¡­" He paused, his expression sharpening. "Unless he can heal his soul."

    Alice frowned, her fingers drumming on the desk. "That kind of power isn¡¯t ordinary. Soul-related abilities are extremely rare under expert-class. What does it mean?"

    "It means," Arayn continued, "that Thalric must have ties to the Bloodmoon Clan. They¡¯re an ancient werewolf clan with innate soul-related abilities. Their existence alone is a rarity these days, but having someone like him in the cult is even more intriguing."

    Alice¡¯s eyes widened, genuine surprise flashing across her face. "A man like that, and he¡¯s not even within Azrathar¡¯s top ten ranking for the younger generation?"

    Arayn chuckled softly, a note of disdain creeping into his voice. "The ranking? It¡¯s managed by the League of Azure Commerce. While their influence spans the continent, they¡¯re limited. Gaining reliable information on unorthodox factions or non-human races is beyond their reach. Otherwise¡­" He grinned, his confidence unwavering. "I¡¯d be in first place."

    Alice arched a brow, crossing her arms. "You certainly have a lot of confidence for someone who¡¯s lost so much of his power."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t falter. "Lost?" he echoed. "What I¡¯ve lost is temporary. Everything I had, everything I was, I¡¯ll reclaim. It¡¯s only a matter of time."

    Alice studied him for a moment before finally nodding. "Let¡¯s hope your arrogance is warranted, brother. The game you are playing has no room for missteps."

    "Don¡¯t worry." Arayn turned toward the window. "I''d win."

    Alice¡¯s voice stopped Arayn as he prepared to leave through the door. "Arayn," she called. "Did you truly receive 500 souls when you collected the Heralds'' souls?"

    Arayn turned to her. "That¡¯s the case."

    Alice leaned back against the desk, tapping her finger thoughtfully against her lip. "You could¡¯ve earned 1,000 contribution points, you know. The soul of a member of an orthodox faction is worth 2 points each."

    "I know," Arayn replied nonchalantly, stepping closer.

    "Then why didn¡¯t you demand more?" Alice pressed, narrowing her red eyes.

    "I did," Arayn admitted, his smirk faint. "Darius claimed he couldn¡¯t give me more. Said it would raise suspicion if I scored that high. Instead, he promised to pay me the rest after the deathmatch ended."

    Alice sighed, shaking her head. "I suppose uncle is right. If you need resources in the meantime, I can lend you mine."

    "I won¡¯t be considerate, then. I¡¯ll need a wisp of an expert-class demon¡¯s soul and a potion to enhance dexterity stat growth."

    Alice arched a brow at his request. "Both are expensive. I¡¯ll deduct their cost from the points Darius owes you."If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    "Deal," Arayn said without hesitation.

    Alice raised her hand, rubbing the ring on her finger. A faint shimmer appeared beside her as an inventory portal opened. She retrieved the requested items¡ªa small, swirling wisp of dark energy encased in glass and a vial of blue liquid. She handed them to Arayn.

    Arayn accepted the items. "Thank you, Alice. I know I can always count on my older sister."

    Alice shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Just don¡¯t waste what I¡¯ve given you, little brother."

    Arayn chuckled, tucking the items away before disappearing out the door with Soren, leaving Alice to her thoughts.

    Arayn entered Darius¡¯s room. Darius sat at his desk, his brown eyes glinting with curiosity as Arayn approached.

    Without preamble, Arayn placed his hands on the desk. "I have two hundred points," he stated coolly. "I want the magic wand that enhances the mana pool and recovery."

    Darius smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Are you in a rush, Young Master?" He reached into an inventory portal, producing an elegant wand carved from dark oak, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly. "This wand is for your disciple, I suppose," he remarked, sliding it across the desk.

    Arayn picked up the wand and inspected it briefly before turning to Soren, who stood silently by his side. Handing it to his disciple, he said, "This will amplify your mana reserves and hasten your recovery. Use it wisely."

    Soren accepted the wand with a bow. "Thank you, Master. I won¡¯t let you down."

    "You still have 100 points left. Do you want to spend them now?" Darius asked.

    Arayn paused, glancing over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flickered with thought before he replied, "No. I''ll save them for later. The right opportunity hasn''t presented itself yet."

    Darius¡¯s gaze lingered on Arayn, his interest piqued. "So, tell me," he drawled, folding his hands together, "who¡¯s next on your list?"

    Arayn¡¯s lips curved into a sly smile. "That," he said cryptically, "is a surprise you¡¯ll enjoy watching unfold."

    Darius chuckled. "Very well. I¡¯ll be waiting. You always entertain me, young master."

    As they left Darius¡¯s room, Soren turned to Arayn, clutching the new magic wand tightly. "Master, I will gladly follow your instructions, no matter what they are."

    "Good. I like your attitude, but there''s no rush of targeting other participant." He gestured toward the town visible through the manor''s window. "Saria¡¯s summoned demon beasts are still roaming around out there. They''re free points just waiting for someone to claim them."

    Soren¡¯s eyes lit up with understanding. "So, we¡¯re going hunting?"

    Arayn nodded, his tone laced with amusement. "Exactly. Aren''t you lucky? You are going to become stronger at a quick pace. Let¡¯s enjoy ourselves for now. As for who we target next¡­ we¡¯ll decide when someone manages to stand out."

    "Understood, Master. Let¡¯s make the most of it," Soren replied.

    Arayn chuckled softly, already anticipating the thrill of the hunt. "Then let¡¯s begin." Together, they set off, ready to claim every opportunity the battlefield presented.

    ---

    The storage room was filled with towering stacks of crates. Kaelion crouched behind a pile, his eyes locked on Aveline as she strode in, her axe charging energy.

    From his hiding spot, Kaelion launched a volley of knives, the projectiles slicing through the air. Aveline raised her axe, its sturdy blade intercepting each knife with precision. Then, she swung the massive weapon, unleashing a beam arc that split through the crates in its path.

    Before the debris even settled, Kaelion appeared above her. Aveline reacted in an instant, raising her axe to parry the blow, the clang of steel against steel echoing in the confined space.

    Kaelion landed gracefully, weaving through Aveline¡¯s swings. Dual knives flashed in his hands as he launched a rapid series of attacks, aiming for any opening. But Aveline¡¯s defense was unyielding; each strike met her axe with force. Finally, she swung with all her might. Kaelion crossed his knives to block the attack, but the sheer power behind her strike sent him hurtling backward.

    As he flew, Kaelion twisted mid-air and hurled both knives at her. Aveline deflected them with ease, the blades clattering harmlessly to the ground. She exhaled sharply, her focus unbroken¡ªuntil a sudden, sharp pain seared through her back.

    Her head snapped around, catching a fleeting glimpse of a second Kaelion darting between the shadows, retreating behind another pile of crates. She gritted her teeth, her knees buckling as the wound sapped her strength. Dropping to one knee, Aveline used her axe to steady herself, blood trickling down her armor as she glared into the darkness.

    Aveline gritted her teeth, pressing a hand to the fresh wound on her back. Her gaze swept across the storage room, searching for any trace of movement. "Cloning abilities¡­" she muttered under her breath. "They¡¯re not supposed to work like this. Each one has the same strength as the original. That¡¯s not normal." Her grip tightened on her axe. "What kind of power is this? I¡¯ve never heard of anything like it."

    The first Kaelion observed her with calculating eyes, crouched silently atop a stack of crates. His thoughts raced as he watched her struggle to remain upright. ''She used that buff, [Box of Providence]. Valen said it was extraordinary. Enough to turn the tide of any battle.''

    He gripped his dual knives. ''Something doesn¡¯t add up. If it¡¯s as powerful as they say, why hasn¡¯t her strength increased? And that injury¡­ it¡¯s still bleeding. No regeneration, no vitality boost. Nothing.''

    His sharp gaze narrowed. ''It has to be a bluff. A distraction to mask her real condition¡ªshe¡¯s weakened. If that¡¯s the case¡­'' He shifted silently. ''This is my chance to finish her.''

    Kaelion burst toward her, knives in hand. His smirk widened as he closed in on Aveline, convinced she was too weak to fight back. Just as he was about to strike, Aveline¡¯s lips curled into a confident smile.

    ¡°You¡¯ve fallen for my trap,¡± she said.

    A golden aura erupted around her, enveloping her body with radiant energy. [Miracle Resurgence] activated, her strength surging to its peak. She sidestepped Kaelion¡¯s attack, her axe whistling through the air as she struck him in the belly.

    The force of the blow was immense, and Aveline pushed her weapon forward, sending Kaelion flying across the room. He crashed into a stack of crates with a grunt, the impact splintering the wood.

    Aveline stood tall, her golden aura flickering like a shield of light. Her mind raced as she recalled the meticulous setup. The key to her trump card was the [Box of Providence], which she had filled with seven stacks of [Mystic Flow], a buff designed to enhance mana regeneration. She had bided her time, luring Kaelion into a false sense of security while her mana recovered. Now, her plan had worked perfectly.

    Just as she prepared to finish the fight, she caught sight of something that froze her in place, a second Kaelion darting out of the storage room.

    Her eyes widened in shock. "So the one I attacked was just a clone?"

    She clenched her axe, frustration bubbling in her chest, but she didn¡¯t waste time. She immediately cast her healing magic, a soothing light washing over her body. She tightened her grip on her weapon.

    Aveline scanned the room, expecting Kaelion to launch another attack, but the moments stretched into silence. No knives. No shadows shifting. No sign of her opponent.

    The storage room was empty, save for her. Alone, Aveline stood amidst the shattered crates, her gaze wary and her mind racing. "Did he really leave?" she muttered, unwilling to lower her guard.

 Chapter 38: Infernal Codex

    Kaelion landed atop the roof of a house with an annoyed expression. A sudden message surged through his mind¡ªSaria was dead, and Arayn was the one who had killed her. The news stopped him cold. Valen hadn¡¯t been the one to do it. That revelation alone sent a flicker of disbelief through him, quickly replaced by irritation.

    To make matters worse, another version of himself had been destroyed by Aveline. It stung more than he cared to admit. Both he and the fallen Kaelion were original, as were several others like him. That was his secret, a truth only he fully understood.

    The double failure gnawed at him. Aveline had bested him, and Valen had let Arayn steal the opportunity to kill Saria. Frustration simmered beneath the surface, but now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it.

    He needed to regroup with Valen. Answers awaited, and Kaelion intended to get them.

    ---

    Arayn stepped into the district just beyond the neutral zone. As he anticipated, demonic beasts had already begun to encroach on the area. Without hesitation, he consumed a Wisp of Demon Soul and downed a Dexterity Growth Inducement Potion. His goal was to reach level 20 and recover the dexterity stat he had once possessed.

    Wiping his mouth, he prepared to begin the hunt alongside Soren. Before they could move, his attention caught a distant commotion. Lyssa and Thalric were locked in battle with a group of demonic beasts. A faint smile tugged at his lips. It seemed the two had reconciled after all.

    For a brief moment, Arayn considered eliminating Thalric right then and there. The thought was tempting, but he dismissed it.

    "You are lucky, Werewolf. I will let you live to see another day."

    His growth took precedence. Turning away, he motioned to Soren, and together they headed down another street, ready to begin the hunt.

    As they reached a particular street, Soren crouched low, his hands drawing patterns as the camouflage barrier shimmered into existence. The barrier mirrored the surroundings perfectly, blending them seamlessly into the environment and rendering them invisible. Arayn stood nearby, his demonic sword resting against his shoulder, his sharp gaze sweeping the empty street for any sign of movement.

    Murmuring an incantation, Soren gripped his wand tightly. The artifact expanded his mana pool, allowing him to summon an impressive number of creatures. Dozens of frog demons materialized from a magic circle etched into the ground. A few of the creatures bounded away, quickly scattering to lure their prey. Moments later, the distant rustling against buildings and a hiss echoed through the street, signaling the arrival of their target.

    The Infernal Fangtail lumbered into view, a hulking serpent with molten scales. Its four eyes burned like embers, and its fangs gleamed with a faint heat. The massive serpent prowled closer, its tail swishing, completely unaware of the trap it had wandered into. Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a grin as he gripped the hilt of his sword, his eyes narrowing with anticipation.

    Soren stepped forward, his gaze locking onto the beast. His eyes flared with an eerie light, and the beast froze mid-step, its body stiffening as [Corlust Eyes of Petrification] took hold. The effect lasted only a moment, but it was long enough. The remaining frog demons lunged, their throats swelling before they unleashed streams of noxious venom that splattered across the beast¡¯s hide. The creature roared in pain, its movements sluggish as the poison coursed through its veins.

    Arayn surged forward, the weight of his blade singing through the air as he struck. The beast howled, its cry echoing off the buildings before abruptly cutting off as Arayn¡¯s sword cleaved through its neck. Dark energy rippled from the blade as the beast''s soul was drawn into the sword.

    [Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]

    [Your dexterity has increased by one]

    He exhaled slowly, the rush of power spreading through him as he absorbed the soul¡¯s energy. Arayn glanced at Soren and remarked, "This is a good strategy. Lure another one."

    Without hesitation, Soren closed his eyes and reached out through the mental link he shared with his frog familiars. A subtle pulse of telepathic energy was all it took to send the command.

    Moments later, a croak echoed in the distance, followed by the heavy thud of clawed feet on cobblestone. The Blazeborne Striker chased a demon frog, its spines casting fiery burst. It hissed, its molten saliva sizzling as it hit the ground, and the air around it shimmered with heat.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    As before, Soren¡¯s eyes glowed with power, and his [Corlust Eyes of Petrification] locked onto the beast. For a fleeting moment, the creature froze, its body stiffened into stone-like rigidity. The frog demons seized the opportunity, spitting streams of venom that splattered against the creature¡¯s glowing scales.

    This time, something went wrong. The Blazeborne Striker roared. Its spines flared brightly, and it launched a fireball directly at their hiding spot.

    ¡°Move!¡± Arayn barked, grabbing Soren¡¯s arm and leaping toward the nearest alley. The fireball exploded behind them, the heat licking at their backs as they rolled to safety. A burst of flame scorched the walls of the alley, and smoke filled the air.

    As soon as the flames subsided, Arayn stepped out of the alley, his demonic sword already in hand. The Blazeborne Striker snarled and turned to face him, but Arayn was faster. With a swift dash, he closed the distance and slashed across its chest.

    [Soul Rend]!

    His blade carved through its molten scales. The beast let out one last cry before collapsing to the ground, its spines dimming as the light in its eyes faded.

    Soren emerged from the alley, his expression tense as he dusted soot off his cloak. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect a monster could see through my camouflage barrier,¡± he muttered, glancing at the smoldering remnants of the street. His voice carried a hint of frustration. ¡°And now my demon frogs are all dead.¡±

    ¡°Calm down,¡± Arayn said. ¡°Summon them again. We¡¯re not done here.¡±

    Soren exhaled sharply, nodding. As he began to draw another magic circle, his hands moved with a steadier resolve. ¡°I get it now. It¡¯s not just about hiding. I need to focus on reinforcing the barrier¡¯s defense, not just its camouflage. That thing wouldn¡¯t have broken through if the barrier was stronger.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s gaze shifted as a thought struck him. His hand instinctively brushed against the ransel at his side. The Infernal Codex. He hadn¡¯t even opened it yet. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he decided it might finally be time to put it to use.

    Meanwhile, Soren finished the summoning circle, and dozens of frog demons emerged once more, croaking restlessly as they awaited commands. ¡°Should I start luring again?¡± Soren asked, turning to Arayn, his confidence seemingly restored.

    Arayn shook his head, his eyes fixed on the street ahead. ¡°Not yet. Hold your position. I need to do something.¡± His hand tightened on his sword as he scanned the surroundings.

    Arayn retrieved the Infernal Codex from his pouch, its dark leather cover etched with ancient runes that seemed to glow faintly. Flipping it open, he ran his fingers over the crimson-inked pages until he found what he sought. He whispered the incantation written as the runes on the page ignited, glowing like embers in a dying fire.

    A system message blinked into his vision.

    [Name: Infernal Aegis (C)

    Grade: Magic

    Description: Surrounds the caster with a shield that absorbs a percentage of incoming damage and reflects a portion of it back at attackers.]

    [The cost of learning: Sacrifice 24 souls of beasts above level 10 within six days. Do you want to learn this ability?]

    "Yes," he said firmly.

    The codex¡¯s glowing runes leaped from the page, swirling around him like fiery tendrils before embedding themselves into his skin. The sensation burned for an instant, a searing heat that dissipated as quickly as it had come. Another message appeared before his eyes.

    [Ability learned: Infernal Aegis (C). Added to Status Window.]

    Soren tilted his head as he watched Arayn finish with the codex. "What are you doing, Master?"

    Arayn caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "You¡¯re curious, aren¡¯t you?" he said, his tone almost teasing.

    Soren gave a small nod, his curiosity unmasked.

    Arayn exhaled, closing the codex. "Alright, I¡¯ll explain. Do you know the difference between a normal class holder and a demonic class holder?"

    Soren shook his head, prompting Arayn to continue.

    "Normal class holders have two ways to learn abilities," Arayn began. "The first is through their class. Abilities are essentially engraved into their class framework. The second way is through skill or magic books. It¡¯s straightforward but takes time and effort to learn."

    He held up the Infernal Codex. "Demonic class holders, on the other hand, can instantly learn abilities from something like this¡ªan Infernal Codex. It''s a one time usage item, and there¡¯s always a cost."

    Soren frowned slightly, leaning in closer. "What kind of cost?"

    "The cost depends on the ability and how frequently you rely on the codex," Arayn explained. "It starts small, sacrificing a few beast souls, for example. However, the more you learn this way, the heavier the price becomes. Fail to meet the cost, and you won¡¯t just lose the ability. You¡¯ll be erased from existence."

    Soren¡¯s eyes widened, and he stepped back instinctively.

    "That¡¯s why I don¡¯t recommend relying on the codex for every new ability," Arayn continued. "It¡¯s powerful, yes, but reckless usage leads to death. If you¡¯re going to use it, you need to calculate your risks."

    Soren nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful but wary. "Got it," he said. "So, you¡¯re careful about what you choose to learn from it."

    "Exactly," Arayn said. "Power like this isn¡¯t just a gift, it¡¯s a gamble. Although, I don''t think you need to learn from Infernal Codex too much. Remember, your class is Demonic Acolyte. You can learn demonic abilities instantly through demonic contract. It''s an advantage that other demonic classes don''t have. They still need to learn abilities manually after a demon teaches them one. I, too, don''t want to depend on Infernal Codex too much. I just did it because of the situation. For you, Soren, you just need to buy catalysts to summon demons and perform contracts with them."

    Soren nodded. "I understand, Master. As long as I am not in a pinch, I won''t learn from Infernal Codex," he said.

    Arayn gave an approving smile before stepping closer and patting Soren''s head. "Good. Now, let¡¯s get back to work," he said. "Go and lure the beasts again. We can¡¯t afford to waste any more time."

    Soren raised his wand to command his demon frogs once more. "You heard, Master. Six of you go and lure demonic beasts again. The rest stays here. You will weaken the lured beast with your poison."

 Chapter 39: Sudden Graduation

    Another beast crumpled to the ground, helpless against the seamless teamwork between Arayn and Soren. The demon frogs, their bat-like wings beating rapidly, swooped in to collect the corpse. They latched onto it with their webbed claws, lifting it into the air and hauling it away.

    Soren waved at them. "Good job, everyone! Master Arayn said you can collect their soul now!"

    Before they could bask in their brief moment of accomplishment, an ominous shift in the air caught Arayn¡¯s attention. Across the street, the shattered remains of a house groaned under the weight of something heavy. From the gloom, a demonic beast emerged.

    The creature''s body resembled a mantis, but its leathery skin glistened like polished obsidian. Multiple glowing red eyes dotted its triangular head, each swiveling independently as it scanned the spot hidden by the camouflage barrier. From its back protruded rows of sharp, bone-like spines. Without warning, it flexed its limbs, and razor-sharp claws detached from its human-like fingers, hovering momentarily before launching through the air in rapid succession like deadly missiles.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed. "It can detect us! Get behind me!" he barked, stepping in front of Soren without hesitation. His hand shot forward as he muttered, "[Infernal Aegis]."

    A crimson dome materialized under the camouflage barrier, its surface rippling like molten glass. The first wave of claws slammed into the invisible barrier, sending sparks flying as the dome endured the impact.

    Soren¡¯s camouflage barrier cracked under the strain of the next barrage. With a shattering sound, it disintegrated. More claws sliced through the air, hammering against the red dome. Arayn calmly dropped a chant in the Ancient Demon Language.

    "Vrex''tar zalorth, vynkar des''thalar!" The barrier wavered for a moment before solidifying, glowing brighter as it endured the onslaught.

    With a sudden pulse, the dome unleashed a retaliatory strike. Beams of fiery crimson light erupted outward, each one finding its mark and tearing into the beast¡¯s exoskeleton. It screeched as the projectiles struck, forcing it to pause its attack.

    Seizing the opportunity, Soren¡¯s demon frogs took flight, their wings beating furiously as they swarmed the beast. They unleashed a volley of venomous bullets, each one hissing as it struck the creature¡¯s armored hide and ate away at its defenses.

    Arayn stepped forward, his expression calm. He began chanting again. A swirling mass of energy coalesced around his outstretched hand.

    "Fyr''kalth morveth, xal drakanar!" he intoned, his voice reverberating with power.

    The beam erupted from his hand and engulfed the beast. The creature let out one final shriek before its form crumbled to ash, the crimson torrent consuming it entirely.

    [Your dexterity stat has increased]

    [You have leveled up]

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demonic Acolyte

    Level: 20 (EXP limit reached)

    Strength: 29

    Dexterity: 30

    Constitution: 40

    Intelligence: 42

    Wisdom: 25

    Charisma: 31]

    [Abilities:

    Ancient Demon Language (B): A lost tongue of the demons, capable of reshaping and manipulating demonic power.

    Soul Rend (B): An attack that tears into the soul of the target, causing both physical and spiritual damage.

    Dark Pact (B): Sacrificing a portion of your own life force to temporarily gain enhanced power.

    Demonic Aura (B): A passive aura that radiates demonic energy, weakening nearby enemies and causing fear.

    Demonic Step (C): Leap short distances using demonic energy.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Cursed Fang (C): A crimson fang imbued with destructive demonic energy. Can be used as a melee weapon or thrown as a projectile that explodes on impact.

    Inferno Torrent (C): Channels mana into a stream of energy that incinerates everything in its path.

    Infernal Aegis (C): Surrounds the caster with a shield that absorbs a percentage of incoming damage and reflects a portion of it back at attackers.]

    [Your abilities have reached C rank or more. You have the qualification to advance into an exepert-class. Error! Second class advancement isn''t available in Demonic Acolyte''s path. Please use a Primordial Crystal to advance.]

    Soren''s gaze fixed on the surroundings. "I am sorry for troubling you, Master. I¡¯ll keep the barrier stronger next time," he muttered, already preparing for the next hunt.

    Arayn straightened up, his voice filled with amusement. "We don''t need to hunt anymore."

    Then, he laughed¡ªan unsettling sound that echoed through the quiet streets, sharp and cruel. It was a burst of mirth that felt out of place in the otherwise tense atmosphere.

    Soren blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion as he watched Arayn. The laughter subsided just as abruptly as it had started. Arayn¡¯s face softened. He patted Soren¡¯s head, ruffling his hair with a touch that seemed oddly gentle.

    ¡°Did I startle you?¡± Arayn asked, his tone now casual.

    Soren shook his head, still processing the shift in Arayn¡¯s demeanor. ¡°May I ask if something happened?¡± he asked, his curiosity piqued.

    "You see," Arayn began, "once someone reaches level 20, that''s where it stops. There''s no more progress, no more experience gained from hunting or fighting, unless they go through a second class advancement. I''m at level 20 now, so there''s no point in continuing the hunt. All that fighting, all those beasts... it won''t get me any further. I need to go through the next step if I want to keep growing stronger. So now, I need to focus on what''s next. There''s no use wasting time here."

    Soren looked at Arayn with a questioning gaze. "So, are you finally going to eliminate the other participants?"

    "First, tell me your level."

    Soren straightened slightly, a small hint of pride in his voice. "I¡¯m already at level 11."

    Arayn raised an eyebrow, impressed but not outwardly showing much. "Faster than I anticipated. Then, it¡¯s time to end everything¡ªwhether it¡¯s the deathmatch or the tutoring lesson."

    Soren blinked, his confusion evident. "End the tutoring lesson? Are you not going to teach me anymore, master?"

    "I¡¯ve guided you enough. Now that you¡¯ve reached level 11, you¡¯re no longer a newbie. It¡¯s time for you to fly on your own."

    Soren¡¯s heart skipped a beat. His mind struggled to process the sudden shift. "But... master..." He hesitated. "Do I really have to leave?"

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "You¡¯ll leave the town tomorrow. It¡¯s time for you to chase your own dream."

    Soren¡¯s heart clenched. He didn¡¯t want to be apart from Arayn¡ªnot now, not so sudden. His voice faltered as he asked, "Please, master. Let me stay. I will help you win this deathmatch. I won''t be your burden."

    Arayn¡¯s gaze sharpened. "I didn¡¯t raise a disciple to become spoiled or to become my tool. You¡¯ve got your own path to walk. Remember your dream."

    Soren¡¯s gaze dropped, a sense of unease settling in. "Still... we only spent a short time together. I... I still don¡¯t know you enough, master."

    Arayn exhaled, his tone softening just a little, though still resolute. "Enough, Soren. Tonight, I¡¯ll hold a graduation party for you. So, don¡¯t spoil the mood." He turned to walk away.

    Soren watched him go, the words weighing heavily on his chest. His fingers tightened into fists as he felt the sting of parting. A deep ache formed in his chest, and as Arayn disappeared from view, Soren couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that it would be a long time before he¡¯d see his master again.

    ---

    That night, the grand manor of the Valtheran family buzzed with the celebration as Soren sat at the long table, surrounded by Alice and even Darius. Soren¡¯s gaze remained distant. Despite the festivities, a heavy sadness weighed on his heart. The graduation party was meant to be joyous, but Arayn¡¯s absence made it feel incomplete.

    ¡°Soren, don¡¯t look so down,¡± Alice said, noticing the sadness in his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s a celebration, not a funeral.¡±

    Soren sighed. ¡°Why would Master hold the graduation here if he couldn¡¯t even attend? It feels... wrong.¡±

    Alice tilted her head, flashing an impish grin. ¡°Well, Arayn¡¯s a jerk. You don¡¯t have to feel sad about it.¡±

    Soren shook his head. Alice¡¯s attempt to cheer him up didn¡¯t work. The hole in the celebration left by Arayn¡¯s absence couldn¡¯t be filled. ¡°Is this what it¡¯s like in the cult?¡± Soren asked, almost to himself. ¡°Are tutoring periods always this short?¡±

    Darius chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s much worse than that, boy. Most mentors would never let their disciples graduate so easily. They¡¯d demand everything, using them for their own gain. You¡¯re lucky to have Young Master Arayn as your mentor.¡±

    Soren¡¯s lips pressed into a thin line. ¡°Still, I want to be with him more... I don¡¯t want it to end.¡±

    Darius nodded, his approval clear. ¡°Not many mentors can make their disciples care for them this much. Gotta say, this makes me see Young Master in new light.¡±

    Alice leaned forward, her tone serious. ¡°Arayn is the kind of person you don¡¯t want as your enemy, but if he¡¯s on your side, he¡¯s someone you can count on.¡± She paused, eyes narrowing. ¡°But you cannot be like him, Soren. Don¡¯t follow his cruelty. Follow the good example he shows when he does show it.¡±

    Soren looked down, absorbing her words. He didn¡¯t know what the future held, but he knew he wanted to be like Arayn who was strong, dependable, and smart.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± he whispered.

 Chapter 40: Backstab Revenge

    Darius noticed the lingering sadness on Soren¡¯s face and sighed, his voice softening. ¡°You¡¯re still down, huh?¡± With a knowing smile, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, polished ring. He extended it toward Soren. ¡°Here. This should help you with your journey. A magic ring that increases your constitution and boosts health regeneration. It¡¯ll make things a little easier for you.¡±

    Soren took the ring, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface. He nodded gratefully. ¡°Thank you, Lord Vex. I won''t forget your kindness.¡±

    Alice leaned forward with a mischievous smile. ¡°Well, I have something for you too.¡± She reached behind her, pulling out a dark mantle. ¡°This mantle has mana regeneration properties. It¡¯ll help you replenish your mana faster. I¡¯m sure it¡¯ll come in handy.¡±

    Soren stared at the mantle, awe flashing in his eyes. ¡°Aunty Alice... thank you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mention it,¡± she said, her voice light, though her eyes held a depth of sincerity. ¡°I know you¡¯ll achieve your goal, Soren, and don¡¯t forget, you¡¯re always welcome to visit me in the cult. I¡¯ll make sure to treat you to lunch or dinner when you do.¡±

    Darius clapped a hand on Soren¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t forget your duties, boy. Monthly missions are a part of your life now as a member of the cult. Don¡¯t slack off, or I will personally punish you.¡±

    Soren nodded, taking in their words. ¡°I won¡¯t forget. Thank you both... for everything. I promise I won''t let you down."

    Despite the gifts, despite their kind words, a weight still hung heavy in his chest. He smiled, but it didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. Even with the mantle and ring, the absence of Arayn felt like an empty space inside him, one that no treasure could fill. He didn¡¯t want to be left behind, didn¡¯t want to lose the bond he had with his master. Yet, deep down, he knew this was how it had to be. The path forward was his to walk alone now. Still, that sadness lingered, a quiet ache that he couldn¡¯t shake.

    The next day, Alice and Soren waited in a room. Rats scurried about as they formed a perfect pentagram on the dusty floor. Alice crossed her arms, tapping her finger impatiently against her elbow.

    The door creaked open, and Arayn stepped inside, his expression as composed as ever.

    Alice frowned, her sharp gaze locking onto him. "Where have you been?" she asked.

    Arayn met her eyes briefly before glancing at Soren. "Gathering information about the other participants," he said coolly. His attention shifted fully to Soren. "Are you ready to leave?"

    Soren gave a small nod, though his downcast expression betrayed his reluctance.

    Arayn sighed faintly, stepping closer. "Remember, to grow stronger, you must forge contracts with demons that suit you. Always ensure you hold the higher ground, both in combat and in negotiations."

    Soren''s reply was quiet, almost fragile. "I understand, Master."

    Arayn studied him for a moment before continuing. "Take missions from the Abyssal Priests. They are ritualists and researchers within the cult. Their tasks will align well with your abilities and help you grow."

    Soren hesitated, then looked up. "Master... will we meet again?"

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained unchanged. "We will¡ªif you survive."

    The young man straightened, determination flickering in his eyes. "I promise to become stronger, Master."

    Arayn nodded slightly. "Good. But listen closely. Do not seek me out until you''ve reached the expert class. Anything less would be a waste of both our time."

    As if on cue, the pentagram of rats began to glow, the light spreading outward in a pulsating rhythm. The rodents shrieked in unison as a vortex of energy enveloped the room. Soren gave one last look at Arayn and Alice.

    The light flared, and in an instant, Soren vanished, leaving behind only the fading glow of the pentagram and the quiet squeaking of the rats that had resumed their scurrying. Alice watched the empty space with a conflicted expression, while Arayn remained impassive.

    Alice leaned against the doorframe, watching the spot where Soren had been. "Soren¡¯s a good kid. It feels like I truly have a little brother that I can pamper," she said, her voice softer than usual. Her gaze shifted to Arayn, and a faint smirk tugged at her lips. "I still can¡¯t believe you turned out to be a responsible mentor."This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Arayn chuckled, his expression calm. "Raising Soren was purely for my entertainment."

    "Is that so?" Alice raised an eyebrow, her tone tinged with disbelief. "Is it alright for you? If your plan works, you won¡¯t see him for a long time. Are you really okay with that?"

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a faint smile. "As long as he survives, we¡¯ll meet again someday. When that happens, I can¡¯t wait to see what he¡¯s become¡ªwhether he lives true to his origin or not."

    Alice¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly. "And why didn¡¯t you tell him about his origin?"

    "For some people," Arayn said, "it¡¯s more entertaining if they uncover it themselves. It¡¯s more satisfying for them to explore it on their own."

    Alice tilted her head, feigning a pout. "Is that why you never told me about my origin?"

    Arayn flicked Alice''s forehead. "Exactly."

    She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Don¡¯t be petty, Arayn. Come on, just tell your sister already. Pretty, please."

    "It would ruin the fun," he replied flatly.

    "You''re really petty. That''s what you are." Alice crossed her arms and shot him a playful glare.

    "Alright, enough. Entertainment time is over. It''s time to end this ritual," Arayn said, his tone becoming colder.

    "So, it''s finally the time, huh? Did you get everything you needed from Darius?" Alice asked.

    "Yeah," Arayn replied, adjusting the edge of his coat. His voice carried a quiet confidence, as if he had already envisioned the outcome.

    Alice tilted her head, watching him carefully. "So, who''s first on your list?"

    "Kaelion," he said without hesitation. A sharp gleam flashed in his eyes as he turned toward the door. "But first, there''s a certain worm I need to punish."

    Without waiting for a reply, Arayn stepped out of the room, his boots echoing ominously against the cold stone floor as he disappeared down the corridor.

    Alice stared at an empty spot he had been. "Our relationship probably would change after this ritual. Still, if it was for a better future, I would do it. Goodbye, my dear little brother. At least, at the very end, I never regretted extending my hand to you," she muttered under her breath before turning her attention back to the pentagram with a sad smile.

    ---

    Lyssa and Thalric spent the night in a house that seemed luxurious, both inside and out. The elegant furniture, gleaming chandeliers, and ornate decor gave the illusion of comfort and wealth, but it was all Lyssa¡¯s magic at work. Illusions were the one spell she excelled at, and she used it to craft a space that felt far removed from the destruction outside.

    The room was quiet. With only the two of them present, the atmosphere grew increasingly awkward until Thalric broke the silence. "I need to apologize," he said. "For betraying Aveline. It was a one-way act, and I forced you into it."

    Lyssa¡¯s gaze softened. "I accept your apology. But... I should apologize too. You¡¯re stuck protecting someone like me."

    Thalric shook his head. "Even if your family hadn¡¯t ordered it, I would¡¯ve volunteered to you."

    Lyssa tilted her head, her eyes softening. "Why?"

    He hesitated for a moment, then began to speak. "Because of my past. I was born with the blood of two clans. My father¡¯s side was fine with it, but my mother¡¯s side¡ªBloodmoon clan¡ªthey forbade marriage outside the clan. So I was always an outcast." He paused, his eyes distant. "Except for her."

    Lyssa leaned forward slightly. "Who was she?"

    "Her name was Faelith, my mate," Thalric said, his voice softening at the memory. "She didn¡¯t care about the rules or the stigma. She loved me, and I loved her. When it became too much, we ran away together. It wasn¡¯t easy, but we made it work¡ªjust the two of us."

    A shadow passed over his face as his tone darkened. "One day, the Heralds of the Skyfather found us. They hated anyone who wasn¡¯t human. They were experts, and I couldn¡¯t protect her. They captured her, and I... I had to watch as they executed her in public. I couldn¡¯t do anything. I failed her."

    Thalric clenched his fists, his voice trembling slightly. "After that, I had nothing. I was at my lowest when the Morgaine family took me in and gave me a place to stay. That¡¯s why this time, I won¡¯t fail. I¡¯ll protect you, no matter what."

    Lyssa¡¯s heart ached at his story. "I¡¯m so sorry, Thalric," she said softly. She hesitated, then asked, "What will you do if I win this ritual?"

    Thalric sighed, shaking his head. "I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve been focused on keeping you alive. That¡¯s all that matters right now."

    Lyssa¡¯s expression brightened slightly. "Then... stay by my side," she said. "Until you figure it out. I know I¡¯m not the smartest, but I¡¯ll be here for you."

    A small smile broke through Thalric¡¯s somber expression. "Just don¡¯t get tired of me making my own decisions."

    "You still need to discuss those decisions with me first. No more acting on your own without talking to me."

    He chuckled softly. "I¡¯ll try."

    They reached out at the same time, shaking hands firmly. For the first time that night, the room didn¡¯t feel so heavy anymore.

    A blade drove into Thalric''s back, stealing his breath in an instant. Lyssa''s scream pierced the air as her eyes locked onto the scene. Thalric staggered, twisting his head just enough to see Arayn behind him, the sword firmly in his grasp. Arayn''s face was void of emotion, his gaze cold as stone.

    Thalric''s voice broke the silence, hoarse and strained. "Why... can''t I smell you coming?"

    Arayn said nothing, his grip tightening on the hilt. He began to pull the blade free, but Thalric¡¯s elbow shot back, forcing Arayn to leap back.

    "Lyssa!" Thalric barked, ignoring the searing pain. "Use your magic!"

    Before she could act, Arayn''s hand shot forward, releasing a fiery blast of [Inferno Torrent]. The attack tore through Thalric''s chest, its fiery beam grazing Lyssa and sending her reeling. Smoke curled around them, the heat unbearable.

    Just as quickly as the torrent surged, both Thalric and Lyssa vanished into thin air. No sound, no trace¡ªjust emptiness where they had stood.

    Arayn landed gracefully, scanning the area. "Oh? She¡¯s still alive."

 Chapter 41: Imagination

    Arayn''s eyes swept across the battlefield, but there was nothing. No footsteps. No scent of blood. Not even the faintest breath to betray their presence. His five senses were utterly useless.

    A quiet chuckle left his lips. Lyssa¡¯s illusion magic was remarkable, so precise it distorted all five of his senses. Even the world beyond was cloaked in the same deceptive veil.

    He hadn''t found them on his own. If not for Darius and his mosquito familiars, even he would not have been able to find their hideout. Their mistake was they decided to hide in the town.

    Arayn shrugged off his Robe of Concealment, letting it fall in a heap at his feet. At once, his [Demonic Aura] surged outward, seeping into every corner of the house.

    A blur of movement, and then pain. A sharp claw raked his side. Without hesitation, he spun, sword flashing as black tendrils coiled around the blade. [Soul Rend]. The strike was precise. A white-furred arm hit the ground with a dull thud.

    His eyes narrowed. Thalric. The furred arm confirmed it. Yet even with a severed limb, the bastard remained unseen.

    This time, though, Arayn caught something unmistakable. Blood. The scent barely reached him, but it was enough.

    Without wasting a second, he raised a hand, summoning several [Cursed Fangs]. The crimson projectiles shot forward, whistling through the air before erupting in violent bursts.

    The illusion shattered. The grand, luxurious house dissolved like mist, revealing the broken remains of a ruined dwelling.

    As the dust settled, Arayn''s gaze locked onto his target. Thalric crouched low, shielding Alyssa beneath him. His wounds were deep, his body torn and burned. However, the torn flesh slowly knit itself together.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes lingered on Thalric, the pieces falling into place. So, his suspicion was correct. Thalric was connected to the Bloodmoon Clan. The strongest werewolf clan, known for their unrivaled soul-body unity and regeneration.

    As the son of the Sovereign, Arayn had been taught extensively about the cult and its ties to various beastfolk. He knew their alliances, their rituals, and their bloodlines. The Bloodmoon Clan¡¯s family tree was something he had studied in detail. Yet no matter how far back he searched, Thalric¡¯s name had never appeared.

    A smirk tugged at Arayn¡¯s lips. The conclusion was obvious. Thalric was an illegitimate son.

    "Even if you carry Bloodmoon blood, I''ll kill you today," Arayn declared.

    Thalric steadied his breath and said, "Let Lyssa go. If you do, I¡¯ll fight you one-on-one."

    Arayn¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. "Do you think I¡¯m afraid to take on both of you at once?"

    Thalric shook his head. "That''s not what I meant. I¡¯m asking as a warrior."

    Arayn let out a quiet chuckle. "A warrior?" He found the notion amusing. "You¡¯ve ambushed me twice. That¡¯s hardly the behavior of a warrior."

    Thalric didn¡¯t argue. Instead, he lowered himself into a deep bow, pressing his forehead against the bloodstained ground. "I know... and I apologize... but please¡­ let her go. She¡¯s injured."

    Arayn stared at him for a long moment as if weighing the request. Then, without a word, he extended his hand. Beam flared to life. [Inferno Torrent] shot forward.

    Thalric moved instantly, shoving Lyssa aside as the beam pierced through his stomach.

    Lyssa hit the ground hard, coughing up blood. Thalric staggered but remained standing, his teeth clenched against the searing pain. His voice rang out, hoarse but furious as he saw his master''s pitiful state. "Do you have no honor as a warrior?"If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Arayn didn¡¯t bother to answer. Instead, he raised his hand and unleashed several [Cursed Fangs]. The crimson projectiles whistled through the air before erupting around Thalric, tearing into his flesh. Yet even as his body was ravaged by the blasts, the wounds began to heal.

    Arayn glanced at Lyssa, her lips whispering something under her breath. Before she could finish, Arayn extended his hand once more.

    Thalric¡¯s eyes widened. He lunged, barely clearing the ground as Arayn fired another beam. The attack tore through the space where Lyssa had been, but Thalric had pushed her aside again, taking the stab of the blast himself.

    Lyssa stared at him, watching his wounds close again, his body enduring injury after injury just to keep her alive. Tears welled in her eyes, then spilled down her face.

    Thalric pushed himself to his feet, his body still mending from the wounds. He bent down and lifted Lyssa into his arms.

    "I¡¯m sorry," she whispered, her voice weak. "I¡¯m just slowing you down."

    "Don¡¯t say that," Thalric replied, his grip tightening around her. "I promised to stay by your side."

    He took off, pushing through the pain, but before he could gain any distance, a searing beam shot forward.

    Arayn¡¯s attack struck his leg.

    Thalric stumbled, his balance lost. He hit the ground hard, Lyssa slipping from his grasp.

    Another attack followed, [Cursed Fang], aimed directly at her.

    Thalric didn¡¯t hesitate. He lunged, shielding her as the explosion engulfed him. Pain tore through his body, his flesh searing, his bones rattling under the force. His regeneration kicked in, but slower this time. Much slower.

    Arayn chuckled, watching the struggle unfold. "So, your healing is finally slowing down." His voice was filled with amusement. "You really are an amusing little toy. Not many people are born with soul-body unity."

    Without pause, Arayn raised his hand and unleashed another barrage of [Cursed Fangs].

    Thalric braced himself. The ground erupted in a series of violent blasts, sending shockwaves through the ruins. Amid the explosion, Lyssa was thrown clear outside, her body skidding across the road.

    Lyssa struggled to push herself up, her arms trembling as she rose to her knees. Her vision blurred, her body aching, but none of it mattered when she saw him.

    Thalric.

    His body was burning, charred flesh peeling away, yet he still crawled toward her, dragging himself forward with what little strength he had left.

    "No¡­" The word fell from her lips, barely a whisper at first. Then louder. "No, no, no. Thalric! Please, no!"

    Her voice cracked with desperation, but he kept moving¡ªslow, agonizing, relentless.

    Heavy footsteps approached.

    Arayn emerged from the ruins, stepping past the smoldering debris. He halted beside Thalric, staring down at the broken werewolf with an expression of quiet amusement.

    "I promised I¡¯d kill you in front of her," he said. His voice was calm.

    "No, Arayn, please spare him. I will do anything. Please!" Lyssa begged.

    He raised his sword, black tendrils coiling around the blade as [Soul Rend] took hold. Then, with a single swift motion, he swung down.

    Lyssa¡¯s scream tore through the air as Thalric¡¯s head rolled on the ground.

    Lyssa¡¯s body felt like lead, the weight of despair sinking her to the ground. She couldn¡¯t speak, couldn¡¯t move, all she could do was stare at Thalric¡¯s severed head. Her mind couldn¡¯t comprehend the reality of it, her heart racing, but no words came. Only silence.

    Arayn stood over her, his eyes narrowing, almost pitying.

    "Are you longing to die now?" His voice cut through the silence. "I¡¯m disappointed. Among all the participants, I found you and Eryndor to be the most interesting. I thought you might realize your true origin, but now... now you¡¯re just longing for death. It¡¯s over for you."

    He sighed. "I¡¯ll tell you your origin now, as a parting gift. Your origin is longing. If you had figured that out sooner, perhaps you could have become more powerful. How unfortunate."

    He raised his sword, the blade hovering above her. Lyssa¡¯s eyes locked onto it, her expression vacant, as if life had been drained from her very soul. Then, something strange happened.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes widened in shock. He looked to the side, seemingly addressing someone invisible.

    "What? I was wrong this time?" His voice was laced with disbelief. "Oi, are you serious, Tyras? Her origin is imagination?"

    He turned back to Lyssa, a chuckle escaping his lips.

    "Did I startle you? You¡¯ll understand when you reach expert level and open that feature. You are lucky, Lyssa. Rejoice. Your origin is an extremely rare one. I¡¯ll help you this time. Don¡¯t imagine yourself dying. Imagine being alive."

    He placed the tip of his sword gently against her chest. Lyssa¡¯s eyes fluttered, still distant, her body numb. The sword pressed down, and in an instant, she collapsed to the ground.

    Arayn gazed at Lyssa''s lifeless body, a soft smile curling at the corners of his lips. He stood there for a moment, savoring the quiet, before a voice echoed in his mind.

    "Lyssa is dead. The killer, Arayn, will be rewarded with 100 points."

    Arayn¡¯s smile widened, the praise almost satisfying in its coldness. "Not bad," he murmured to himself.

    With a final glance at Lyssa, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps the only thing breaking the stillness.

 Chapter 42: Return Alone

    Lyssa found herself in a vast expanse of white, utterly alone. Everything around her was pure, unbroken white, endless and quite.

    She wandered aimlessly, her voice small as she called out, ¡°Is anyone there?¡± But no answer came. Only her voice echoed back.

    Sadness settled over her, and she sank to the ground, hugging her knees. Tears welled up as she cried, wishing desperately for someone¡ªanyone¡ªto be with her. She closed her eyes and imagined Thalric, hoping, praying that somehow he would be at her side. She imagined him alive, holding her close.

    Suddenly, a panicked scream shattered the silence. Lyssa looked up, her heart racing. Thalric was falling from the sky, plummeting toward her. Her own scream rose in her throat as she scrambled to move out of the way.

    It was too late. Thalric landed on top of her with a thud. She grunted, pushing him off with effort. "Ouch, ouch... it hurts. Why does it hurt?" she murmured, confused.

    Her mind raced. She remembered Arayn had killed her. Now, here she was, still feeling pain. It didn''t make sense.

    Thalric quickly rose to his feet, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked.

    Lyssa blinked, still in shock. "How are you still alright? Don''t you feel pain?" she asked, her voice shaky.

    Thalric shook his head, looking around. "No, I don''t feel it. More importantly, where are we?"

    Lyssa paused, confused, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. "I don¡¯t know," she admitted. "I thought... I thought I was dead. I thought you were dead."

    Thalric''s face fell as he looked at Lyssa. "I see... so you''re dead too," he said softly, his voice heavy with regret. "In the end, I couldn¡¯t protect someone again."

    Lyssa¡¯s heart ached at the sorrow in his eyes. She reached out and gently patted his head, a small, comforting smile on her face. "Hey," she said softly, "don¡¯t feel sad. I¡¯m still here. Your promise hasn¡¯t been broken yet."

    Her words, despite the weight of their situation, seemed to bring a flicker of hope back to Thalric¡¯s gaze. He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, and the sadness in him seemed to ease.

    Thalric looked at her, then nodded toward the endless white. "We should explore this place," he said. "Maybe we can figure it out."

    Lyssa nodded in agreement, and together, they began to move through the vast, empty space, searching for answers.

    They had been exploring for what felt like an eternity, yet all they encountered was endless white. The blank, empty expanse stretched out in every direction, a constant reminder of their isolation. Lyssa grew weary of it all. She dropped to the ground with a soft sigh, her frustration evident.

    "I give up," she muttered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. "This place seems endless."

    Thalric knelt beside her. "Don¡¯t give up," he urged. "We¡¯ll find something."

    Lyssa pouted, crossing her arms. "But we haven¡¯t encountered anything yet."

    He gave her a reassuring smile. "Remember, you were alone before you met me. If you don¡¯t give up now, maybe we¡¯ll find something."

    Lyssa fell silent, her gaze wandering over the white void. Her mind was racing, but she couldn¡¯t help but wonder about the strange nature of this place. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, she looked at Thalric, her eyes widening. "Where did you fall down from, anyway?"

    Thalric shrugged. "I don¡¯t know. I just... suddenly existed here."This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Lyssa furrowed her brow, contemplating his words. Then, a memory resurfaced¡ªshe had wished for him to be here, to be with her. Could that have brought him here? The thought sparked something in her mind. Her eyes brightened with an idea. She clenched her hands together, closed her eyes, and whispered to herself, "I wish to see a beautiful landscape."

    She opened her eyes, only to find that the world around her remained as it was¡ªstill white, still empty.

    Thalric chuckled. "What are you doing?" he asked.

    Lyssa¡¯s cheeks turned red as she fidgeted, her voice uncertain. "I¡­ I think I found a way out of this place," she admitted. "When I wished for you to be here, you appeared."

    Thalric rubbed his chin, his brow furrowed in thought. "But just wishing doesn¡¯t seem to work," he pointed out. "Did you do anything else besides that?"

    Lyssa¡¯s eyes widened as she recalled Arayn¡¯s words¡ªImagine. Her heart pounded as she closed her eyes and focused. She pictured rolling green fields stretching endlessly beneath a golden sun. In her mind, a crystalline river wound through the land, reflecting the sky¡¯s brilliance. Towering trees with thick leaves swayed gently, their branches adorned with pink-ish flowers. A gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming flora, and the distant call of birds filled the air.

    When she opened her eyes, the endless white void was gone. The breathtaking landscape she had envisioned now surrounded them.

    Thalric gasped, his golden eyes widening in shock. He spun in place, taking in the vibrant scenery. "What¡­ did you do?" he asked.

    Lyssa exhaled slowly, still processing what had just happened. "I listened to Arayn¡¯s advice," she admitted. "He said my origin is imagination. I don¡¯t really understand what that means, but¡­ it worked. I just imagined things."

    At the mention of Arayn¡¯s name, Thalric¡¯s expression darkened. His jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. After a moment, he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to relax. "Then you should imagine getting out of this place," he advised.

    Lyssa nodded and closed her eyes once more. This time, she focused on escaping this strange world, picturing herself somewhere real. She imagined the ruined district of the town, the scent of dust and burnt wood, the cool touch of the evening breeze.

    Then she blinked.

    The vibrant landscape vanished. Instead, the orange hues of a dying sun painted the sky above her. She felt the rough texture of cracked stone beneath her palms as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. The ruined district stretched around her¡ªbroken buildings, shattered windows, the remnants of a lively place.

    Her fingers trembled as she pinched her cheek. Pain jolted through her skin. Her breath hitched.

    "I¡­ really came back," she whispered, staring at her hands. "I¡¯m alive. How is this possible¡­?"

    A sharp pain flared in Lyssa¡¯s chest, forcing a gasp from her lips. She clutched at the spot where Arayn¡¯s sword had pierced her, her fingers pressing gently against smooth skin. There was no wound, no blood¡ªonly the lingering ache of a strike that should have ended her life. Her breath hitched as she stared at her trembling hands.

    She shook herself. It didn¡¯t matter. She was alive. That was all that mattered. A smile slowly spread across her lips, bright and full of relief.

    "We really got out!" she exclaimed, turning to Thalric.

    Thalric wasn¡¯t there.

    Her breath caught in her throat. Where Thalric should have been, only a severed wolf¡¯s head lay on the cracked ground. Its fur, once thick and proud, was now matted with blood.

    Her vision blurred with fresh tears.

    "No¡­" she whispered, her voice breaking.

    She crawled toward him, hands trembling as she reached out and cradled the head gently in her arms. Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, splashing onto the lifeless fur.

    "I¡¯m sorry," she sobbed, her fingers curling into his fur. "I¡¯m so sorry, Thalric¡­"

    Her body trembled as she hugged the head against her chest, grief swallowing the happiness she had felt just moments ago.

    ---

    Arayn stood on the rooftop, his gaze fixed on Lyssa as she sobbed over the severed wolf¡¯s head. He watched in silence, the corners of his lips curling slightly.

    ¡°She really came back. This confirmed your words that following one''s origin can improve one''s growth. This is a valuable lesson,¡± he muttered. Then, with a satisfied smile, he turned away.

    Darius¡¯s voice echoed in his mind. "Young Master, I¡¯ve always been curious. How can you tell someone¡¯s origin? Do you have a power that lets you see it?"

    Arayn chuckled softly. "It¡¯s not some supernatural ability. Just deduction." He paused, then admitted, "I can¡¯t always see them, and sometimes, I get it wrong."

    Darius hummed in thought before saying, "Even so, that¡¯s impressive, Young Master."

    Arayn¡¯s gaze flickered toward the ruined district below. "So, is Lyssa free now?"

    "The rule states that a participant is eliminated when I declare them dead," Darius explained. "I already declared her death. That was my mistake. However, without a doubt, she¡¯s free now."

    Arayn¡¯s smile widened. "Good. She¡¯s weak now, but I want to see how powerful she¡¯ll become."

    As Arayn moved across the rooftop, Darius¡¯s voice echoed in his mind. "Young Master, are you going after Kaelion next?"

    Arayn yawned and said, "That was the plan, but honestly, they don¡¯t interest me. We should move on to the final phase."

    Darius chuckled. "Understood. I¡¯ll set the stage for you."

    Arayn didn¡¯t respond. Instead, he leaped from the rooftop, landing effortlessly on another building.

 Chapter 43: Ambition and Cunningness

    Eryndor sat by the campfire, its flickering glow casting long shadows over the ruins. He sat in silence, lost in thought, until the sound of approaching footsteps broke his focus. Though blind, he could still perceive the world in his own way.

    ¡°These footsteps¡­ Aveline Stormrend?¡±

    Aveline hesitated before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to sneak up on you.¡±

    Eryndor turned toward her, a faint smile on his lips. ¡°It¡¯s alright. I know you¡¯re an honorable person.¡±

    A sudden quickening of her heartbeat reached his ears. He could no longer see, but he didn¡¯t need to. Aveline was surprised.

    ¡°What happened to your eyes?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Arayn did it,¡± he answered simply.

    Aveline¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Arayn again. He¡¯s the most troublesome participant. Even Saria was killed by him.¡±

    ¡°And Lyssa too,¡± Eryndor added. ¡°He killed her as well.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s eyes widened. For a moment, she stood frozen, then lowered her gaze. Memories of Lyssa surfaced¡ªher loyalty, her refusal to betray her. The weight of the loss settled in as she thought about the pure-heearted girl.

    Eryndor listened. He could hear the sorrow in the rhythm of her heart. He could only offer what little comfort he had. ¡°Lyssa died like a warrior. She fought hard for her freedom.¡±

    Aveline shook her head. ¡°Dying wasn¡¯t her wish. She was forced into this senseless event.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Eryndor murmured. ¡°A shame. I never had the chance to speak with her.¡±

    Aveline studied him for a moment before speaking again. ¡°You seem so calm about this. Doesn¡¯t any of it frustrate you?¡±

    Eryndor exhaled, his expression unreadable. ¡°I was frustrated when I lost my eyes,¡± he admitted. ¡°But Arayn was right. My vision was a curse. I relied too much on my ability to see the future, and I grew complacent. I¡¯ve been forcing myself to change, to assert control of my own self. And now, my other senses are nearly as sharp as sight. They¡¯re still evolving.¡±

    Aveline stepped forward. ¡°Do you want me to heal you?¡±

    Eryndor nodded. ¡°Sure.¡±

    She placed a hand over his face, channeling her magic. A golden glow enveloped him, but nothing changed. The injury remained.

    Her expression turned serious. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. This isn¡¯t just a physical wound¡ªit¡¯s a soul injury.¡±

    Eryndor tilted his head. ¡°Can you heal it?¡±

    Aveline shook her head. ¡°Healing a soul is extremely difficult. I have the ability, but I can¡¯t use it on others. Besides, it¡¯s not like healing the body. Physical injuries have many solutions, but healing a soul is more like piecing together a shattered vase. You have to reconnect the fragments yourself.¡±

    Eryndor considered her words. ¡°What about regeneration? Is that possible?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± she admitted. ¡°As far as I know, only the werewolves of the Bloodmoon Clan have the ability to regenerate their souls.¡±

    Eryndor smiled. ¡°I see. Forget it, then. I¡¯m already evolving. I¡¯ll surpass my past self soon enough.¡±

    Aveline returned his smile. ¡°I respect your optimism.¡±

    Eryndor gestured toward the fire. ¡°Care to eat before we fight?¡±

    Aveline¡¯s gaze fell on the campfire, where several rats sizzled on makeshift skewers. Her face twitched¡ªjust for a moment¡ªbefore she forced a polite smile. ¡°I¡¯ll pass.¡±

    Eryndor heard the slight change in her heartbeat. He chuckled. ¡°I apologize. It was rude of me to offer this to a noble.¡±

    Aveline sat beside him, her expression firm. ¡°You weren¡¯t rude. I¡ªI can eat it.¡±

    Eryndor laughed. ¡°No need to force yourself. Just wait while I finish my meal.¡±

    Aveline shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t come here to fight.¡±

    Eryndor paused, then turned to her. ¡°Then why are you here?¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Aveline studied him before asking, ¡°What will you do if you win?¡±

    Silence stretched between them. Eryndor stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in his sightless eyes. ¡°If I become the successor, the elders of my sect will try to control me,¡± he said at last. ¡°The first thing I¡¯ll do is assert my influence¡ªboth in the cult and my sect.¡±

    Aveline tilted her head. ¡°And after that?¡±

    Eryndor exhaled. ¡°The cult members will do anything for power, but they rely too much on external forces¡ªcontracting demons, making deals. No one truly trusts their own strength. That¡¯s the first thing I want to change. They need to learn to grow stronger on their own.¡±

    Aveline met his gaze. ¡°In that case, our goals seem to align. Why don¡¯t we work together?¡±

    Eryndor heard the resolution in her heartbeat. ¡°I have to admit, I¡¯m curious. Why would a Saintess of the Heralds of the Skyfather want to work with the Crimson Sun cult''s successor candidates?¡±

    Aveline didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Because I¡¯m the same as you¡ªI want to change things.¡± She glanced at the fire, her voice steady. ¡°The first thing I need to change is my own order. Too many of my people refuse to accept those who think differently, and they¡¯re even worse toward other species. I want them to open their hearts, to broaden their views.¡±

    She looked back at him. ¡°The second thing is the cult. My fellows love to eradicate the cult members when they encounter them, and I am sure many cult members are thinking the same. I want to break this cycle of hatred. I want to change how they pursue strength. They don¡¯t have to sacrifice the innocent or involve themselves in evil. Just as you said, they need to depend on their own power."

    Eryndor poked at the fire with a stick, watching the embers glow. ¡°Even if the cult changes, hatred isn¡¯t so easily erased.¡±

    Aveline nodded. ¡°I know. But someone has to take the first step. I¡¯m willing to do that.¡±

    Eryndor turned to her. ¡°You¡¯ll face a lot of betrayal. Not from me at least, but you will work together with other people, and they will do it. That''s the nature of the cult members. We never trust and only work for benefits. Are you sure you want to do this?

    Aveline¡¯s expression didn¡¯t waver. ¡°Every betrayal hurts, but I¡¯ll rise again. Saria betrayed me, but she showed me the way. I will do it for people like Lyssa. She wanted freedom but never had the chance.¡±

    Eryndor let out a quiet chuckle. ¡°Your ambition is too grand, but that¡¯s what makes it interesting.¡± He extended his hand. ¡°As long as you don¡¯t change, I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    Aveline clasped his hand, a small smile forming on her lips. ¡°Thank you, Eryndor¡­ for believing in me.¡±

    Eryndor pulled a skewered rat from the fire, inspecting the crisped meat. ¡°Now, let¡¯s eat. We can¡¯t work on an empty stomach.¡±

    Aveline¡¯s face paled. She forced a smile, her voice unsteady. ¡°I-I¡¯m still full. Thanks, though.¡±

    ---

    Arayn sat in the ruins of a tavern. Gaping holes in the roof exposed the night sky, and shattered windows let the cold air seep in, but the structure still held firm. He had pushed the tables and chairs aside, clearing the center of the room. A sharp-lined pentagram covered the wooden floor, and a throne stood at its heart.

    Arayn approached the throne and lowered himself onto it. A smirk tugged at his lips. ¡°The final phase starts now,¡± he muttered.

    He raised a hand and began to chant, his voice weaving through the air.

    "Through the veil of shadow and flame,

    From the realm where bloodlines wane, hybrid spawn of the twisted breed, come forth now and heed my need."

    A gust of wind burst through the tavern, snuffing out the candles. Then, within the pentagram, a figure emerged¡ªhumanoid in form, yet unmistakably inhuman. It stood tall, its head that of a goat, twisted horns curling backward. A pair of bat-like wings stretched from its back, their leathery surface shifting as it adjusted to its new surroundings.

    The demon straightened its posture and offered a polite bow. ¡°Ah, a summoner of ambition.¡± Its voice was smooth. ¡°I can provide various services such as granting abilities, eliminating enemies, even bending hearts and minds to your will. All for a very reasonable price.¡±

    The creature took a slow sniff of the air, then chuckled. ¡°Oh? You¡¯re stuck at level twenty.¡± A grin split its bestial face. ¡°If you wish to ascend to the expert class, you¡¯ll need a catalyst to fill your primordial crystal. Lucky for you, I can provide that too.¡±

    Arayn leaned forward, his grin widening. ¡°I like your spirit.¡±

    The demon placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head politely. "I will do my best to serve you, summoner. Are you from the Crimson Sun Cult? I am a member of the faction led by Lord Azael. That means I am trustworthy."

    Arayn chuckled. "Hey, demon. What''s the most lucrative payment for you?"

    The demon''s lips curled, and a drop of drool escaped. "The most lucrative? Hehehe, that would be your soul, summoner. No offense. I''m just being honest. Building trust is important, you see. Of course, I know offering your entire soul is impossible, but if you let me take a small sip¡ªa mere wisp¡ªI¡¯ll give you a catalyst to fill your primordial crystal."

    Arayn smirked. "No. Instead, I¡¯ll offer you all of my soul."

    The demon blinked, then tilted his head. "Are you... serious?"

    "After my death, that is," Arayn clarified. "You can have my soul once I¡¯m dead."

    The demon''s amusement faded. His glowing eyes bore into Arayn as he spoke with uncharacteristic gravity. "Summoner, I must warn you. Offering something in front of a demon is not a joking matter. Now that you''ve made the promise, you cannot take it back."

    Arayn leaned back, completely unfazed. "Of course. I¡¯m well aware."

    The demon folded his arms, his goat-like eyes narrowing. "So, summoner, what service do you require of me?"

    Arayn leaned forward, resting an elbow on the arm of his throne. "Tell me everything about the place you live in within the Netherworld¡ªthe coordinates, your neighbors if you have any, the lord of your region, the famous figures. Everything."

    The demon scratched his head, his claws lightly tapping against his horns. "That¡¯s¡­ an odd request."

    Arayn¡¯s smirk didn¡¯t waver. "Don¡¯t tell me you can¡¯t grant my wish? In that case, this business is over."

    "Wait." The demon raised a hand, shaking his head. "Of course, I agree. But why? Why wager your soul for something so simple?"

    When forming a contract with a demon, the rules of magic were absolute¡ªone could not lie. That was why Arayn answered honestly. "Because it doesn¡¯t matter if my soul is taken by a demon if I die."

    The demon held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. "Very well, summoner. Listen closely."

    He stepped forward, his wings shifting slightly as he began his tale.

 Chapter 44: Past Promise

    A few months ago, Valen and Kaelion arranged a secret meeting with Darius. Their purpose was clear¡ªto persuade him to side with Valen in the upcoming successor ritual.

    Darius listened but remained unmoved. "Why should I help you?" he asked, his tone unreadable.

    Valen leaned forward, desperation flickering in his eyes. "Because you¡¯re from the Vex family, a branch of the Valehn bloodline," he pleaded.

    Darius scoffed. "That connection was severed long ago. My family has no ties to the Valehns, nor do I need them. I''m strong enough on my own."

    Valen hesitated, then played his next card. "You care about your niece, Alice, don¡¯t you?" He watched Darius closely. "You know how this works. The winner of the deathmatch will be her fianc¨¦. If I win, I swear to treat her like a queen."

    Darius remained silent for a moment before exhaling. "What exactly do you want from me?" he asked. "You know as well as I do¡ªI wouldn¡¯t dare defy Lord Sovereign."

    Valen exchanged a glance with Kaelion before lowering his voice. "I know about the Heavenly Demon class."

    Darius narrowed his eyes. "A myth-grade class," Valen continued. "It can push its user to ascended-class, but It can only be fused under two conditions: either through an expert-class evolution or upon reaching ascended-class. To awaken the primordial crystal containing it, a sacrifice is required. Five demonic acolyte classes... or one thousand expert-class souls."

    Valen''s lips curled into a thin smile. "What I want, Lord Darius, is for you to tamper with the primordial crystal. Instead of sacrificing five demonic acolyte classes, I want you to use one thousand expert-class souls¡ªand then hand it over to me."

    For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Darius threw his head back and laughed. "You want my help? Fine. Bring me a thousand expert-class souls, and I''ll do it."

    Valen didn¡¯t hesitate. "Consider it done."

    ---

    Valen stood in silence, lost in thought. The deal with Darius¡ªhe hadn¡¯t forgotten. Now was the time to claim the Heavenly Demon class for himself.

    Steeling himself, he made his way to Darius¡¯s office room in Valtheran''s manor. Upon entering, he bowed slightly in respect. "Lord Darius," he greeted. "I¡¯ve come for the primordial crystal."

    Darius leaned back in his chair, the faintest smirk on his lips. Without a word, he raised his hand, revealing the crystal¡ªa dark, pulsing gem brimming with power. "I¡¯ve awakened it," he said, his voice calm. "One thousand expert-class souls were sacrificed."

    Valen¡¯s breath hitched. His eyes locked onto the crystal, hunger gleaming in them. He stepped forward. Just as he reached out, Darius closed his fingers around it, making it vanish from sight.

    "It wasn¡¯t you who provided the souls," Darius said.

    Valen scratched his head, letting out a small sigh. "I lured the Order of Stormguard into the trap," he admitted. "I just didn¡¯t expect the Heralds of the Skyfather to interfere. Aveline¡¯s arrival was unexpected, but she didn¡¯t stop you. In the end, you still succeeded in gathering the required souls."

    "That¡¯s true," Darius said, nodding. "But the fact remains¡ªyou didn¡¯t complete your part of the job... and that¡¯s a problem."

    Valen clenched his fists, his expression shifting. "Please, Lord Darius," he urged. "Give me the crystal. I swear, I¡¯ll take good care of Alice."

    Darius studied him for a moment, then let out a low chuckle. "I¡¯m still not convinced you¡¯re worthy of this class," he said. "So let¡¯s make it simple. If you can defeat Arayn¡ªthe one who¡¯s already eliminated two participants¡ªthen I¡¯ll hand over the crystal."

    Valen exhaled sharply but didn¡¯t hesitate. "Fine," he said. Without another word, he turned and left the room.

    Valen reached into his pocket, pulling out a communication crystal. Holding it close, he spoke in a low voice. "Kaelion, there''s something I need you to do."

    A brief pause, then Kaelion¡¯s voice echoed through the red stone. "What is it?"

    Valen''s expression darkened. His grip on the crystal tightened. "Find Arayn¡ªand kill him."The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    A short chuckle came from the other end. "No need to search," Kaelion replied. "I¡¯m already in position to ambush him."

    Valen''s eyes narrowed. "Where is he?"

    "At a tavern near the neutral area," Kaelion answered. "Waiting. He doesn¡¯t know it yet, but his time is up."

    ---

    Arayn sat on the throne, his chin resting on his hand, eyes half-lidded in boredom. Then, from above, knives rained down, cutting through the air.

    He didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he raised a hand and uttered, "[Infernal Aegis]."

    A crimson barrier flared to life around him, the blades clashing against it before falling uselessly to the ground.

    Kaelion landed before him in a blur. Without hesitation, he hurled a fresh wave of knives, aiming to shatter the barrier. The moment cracks formed, he lunged.

    Arayn didn¡¯t move. He simply smirked.

    The fractured barrier erupted. Its shattered remnants turned into blazing projectiles, tearing through the air and slamming into Kaelion. The force sent him hurtling back, his body crashing against the wall. Blood dripped from his lips as he staggered to his feet.

    Arayn rose from his throne, dusting off his sleeve. "You''re not as good as Lyssa when it comes to ambushes," he remarked, his voice almost amused.

    Kaelion''s gaze locked onto Arayn, his grip on his knife tightening.

    Without warning, a knife shot toward Arayn from behind. He tilted his head slightly, letting it whistle past.

    Kaelion had anticipated that. In the same breath, he flung another knife straight at Arayn¡¯s chest.

    Arayn drew his sword in a flash, deflecting the knife midair. The knife spun wildly as Kaelion lunged, aiming for Arayn¡¯s throat with a stabbing strike.

    Arayn moved faster. His hand shot out, seizing Kaelion¡¯s wrist. With a sharp twist, he hurled him over his shoulder¡ªstraight into another Kaelion waiting behind him.

    Turning gracefully, Arayn extended his hand, crimson energy swirling at his fingertips. "[Inferno Torrent]," he muttered.

    A blazing red beam erupted from his palm, tearing through the air toward the two Kaelions.

    The second Kaelion reacted instantly, his leg snapping out in a kick that sent the first Kaelion flying out of harm¡¯s way. He barely had time to smirk before the beam consumed him, his body disintegrating in an instant.

    Arayn dusted off his sleeve, his gaze cold. "You''re working with Valen," he stated. "Where is he? You¡¯re not much of a challenge on your own."

    Kaelion smirked. "I alone am not enough? Then how about dozens of me?"

    At his words, the tavern doors burst open. More Kaelions flooded in from the front and back, surrounding Arayn in a perfect formation.

    Arayn chuckled. "Clones? I can do that too."

    He murmured in an ancient demonic tongue, the air around him darkening. A shadow twisted beside him, shaping itself into a second Arayn, a clone wreathed in black energy.

    Kaelion tensed.

    Arayn smirked. "Don''t be so tense. I just used [Ancient Demons Language] to manipulate my [Demonic Step]."

    The clone swelled grotesquely, its body expanding, pulsing with unstable energy. Then, it detonated. A violent blast filled the tavern with thick black smoke.

    Reacting instantly, every Kaelion hurled their knives into the center of the room, aiming for where Arayn had stood. However, he was gone.

    Above them, the roof creaked. Arayn floated in the air, standing on a razor-thin fang. A [Cursed Fang] kept him aloft.

    He raised a hand. More fangs materialized around him. With a flick of his fingers, they shot downward.

    The moment they struck the tavern, the explosion ripped through wood and stone, shattering the building in a storm of fire and splintered debris.

    Arayn sensed a faint shift in the air behind him. Without hesitation, he conjured a barrier and spun around.

    Knives cut through the night as they flew toward him.

    He plunged downward, evading them, but more were already coming toward him.

    His barrier held, deflecting the barrage, but his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Kaelions on the rooftops of a nearby house.

    "I see. You can teleport to another clone."

    The knives tore through his barrier, forcing Arayn to parry them with his sword mid-fall, but a few knives still managed to graze him.

    As his shattered barrier turned into bullets, they shot toward the Kaelions, striking them mid-throw. Their assault wavered for a moment.

    Taking the chance, Arayn extended his hand. A crimson beam erupted from his palm, lancing toward them. The force of the blast propelled him sideward, accelerating his fall. He hit the ground hard, landing in a skid, dust and debris swirling around him.

    Arayn cut off the beam and leaped away with [Demonic Step], vanishing just as knives sliced through the space he had occupied. Mid-motion, he caught a glimpse of the Kaelions behind him. They had teleported again.

    Weaving through the streets, he barely had time to register the movement above before a Kaelion dropped from a rooftop, knife flashing. Arayn met the strike with his sword, deflecting the blade before driving a kick into his attacker¡¯s chest, sending him crashing into the alleyway.

    More Kaelions were closing in.

    He darted from one street to another, twisting through the paths. The Kaelions pursued, but his [Demonic Aura] pressed against them, slowing their movements the closer they got. It wasn¡¯t much, but it gave him the edge he needed.

    Arayn wasn¡¯t running. He was leading them.

    The destroyed tavern came into view. Smoke still curled from the wreckage, embers glowing in the rubble. Everything had been reduced to ruin.

    Except for the throne.

    It stood untouched in the center of the devastation.

    The Kaelions burst into laughter, their voices overlapping in a chorus of mockery.

    "Why are you coming back?" one sneered.

    "Do you want to die sitting on that throne?" another jeered.

    Arayn smiled. "Perhaps."

    The laughter stopped. All at once, the Kaelions'' expressions darkened, their synchronized voices cutting through the air.

    "Who do you think you are? You¡¯re just an ant with insane arrogance!"

    Arayn didn¡¯t answer. He just smiled. Then, in a single motion, he turned and slashed.

    [Soul Rend]!

    A Kaelion had crept up behind him. Now, the assassin staggered back, eyes wide in shock as blood spilled from the fresh wound. At that moment, a message echoed in Arayn¡¯s mind.

    [Your lifespan has increased by two minutes.]

    "What the fuck!" Arayn exclaimed. That was the first time he was surprised by Kaelion.

 Chapter 45: The Throne of the Dead

    Arayn hadn¡¯t expected it. Killing a clone of Kaelion had granted him a lifespan increase. That shouldn''t have been possible. Clones were complex magic, yes, but they had no souls. Yet, the one he had just defeated contained a soul. However, something was off. It had given him just two minutes lifespan. A normal human soul would have granted him twelve hours.

    His thoughts turned, pieces falling into place. Then, his gaze settled on Kaelion and his duplicates.

    "You¡¯re all the real Kaelion," he said. "None of you are fakes. There¡¯s only one race that can split its body and share its senses across each form. Kaelion, you¡¯re a doppelganger."

    Laughter rang out¡ªone voice, multiplied. Each Kaelion grinned and pointed their fingers at Arayn.

    "That¡¯s right," they said in unison. "Because we¡¯re all real, our strength is the same."

    Arayn scoffed. "You really are just a worm, Kaelion."

    Doppelgangers could split their bodies, yes. Each one carried the same strength. However, there was a cost. The more they divided, the more their potential dwindled. That was why truly powerful doppelgangers never relied on it. They would use other innate abilities granted to them as a doppelganger.

    "As long as you cling to this," Arayn continued, his tone sharp, "you¡¯re doomed to be nothing more than worms."

    Kaelion¡¯s expression twisted with rage. "I will become stronger," he snarled. "And you won¡¯t be around to see it because I¡¯m going to kill you."

    All the Kaelions rushed him at once.

    Arayn exhaled slowly and shut his eyes. A familiar pull stirred deep within¡ª[Dark Pact]¡ªa connection to the time he had left. A system window flashed in his mind.

    [Lifespan: One year, six months, twelve hours, two minutes.]

    His eyes snapped open. "That¡¯s enough," he muttered.

    A year of his life burned away in an instant. Power flooded his body, rolling off him in waves. The air grew heavy. The Kaelions faltered mid-step, their charge slowing as if wading through tar.

    Arayn didn¡¯t wait. He shot forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. His blade plunged into Kaelion A¡¯s chest, sliding through flesh and bone. With a pull his wrist, he tore the weapon free and turned, already moving.

    Kaelion B barely had time to raise his arms before Arayn¡¯s blade carved through his neck. Blood sprayed in an arc, his head tumbling to the asphalt.

    The others hesitated, sluggish under the weight of his [Demonic Aura]. Arayn pivoted, locking onto Kaelion C. He lunged, blade flashing.

    Kaelion C blurred, his body twisting like smoke caught in the wind. In an instant, he vanished.

    Arayn''s senses screamed. He spun around.

    A few paces away, space shimmered. Kaelion C reappeared beside Kaelion D.

    Arayn smirked. "Teleportation," he murmured.

    Without turning, he raised a hand and unleashed a beam. The energy tore through the Kaelions in front of him, their bodies splitting apart, dissolving into nothing.

    At the back, Kaelion J sprang onto a rooftop, his cloak billowing as he tried to flee.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze snapped to him. His fingers curled, black energy coiling at his palm.

    "You¡¯re not going anywhere."

    He thrust his hand forward, and [Cursed Fang] shot through the air, racing toward its target.

    Arayn cut through the Kaelions with ease, his blade carving through their flesh. Another fell. Then another. His body moved on instinct, honed by countless battles.

    When his sword plunged into Kaelion O¡¯s chest, the man didn¡¯t collapse like the others. Instead, his hands shot out, clamping around Arayn¡¯s arms with an iron grip. A grin spread across Kaelion O¡¯s face.

    "I got you," he said.

    Arayn didn¡¯t flinch. "No, you don¡¯t."

    With a sharp twist, he wrenched his arms free as if Kaelion O¡¯s hold had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His blade slashed across the man¡¯s neck, cutting off his smirk¡ª

    Then, pain.

    Cold metal tore through his back. The force of it drove him forward, nearly to his knees. His breath hitched. Slowly, he turned his head.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    Valen stood behind him, one hand gripping the spear buried in Arayn¡¯s body.

    Arayn exhaled through his nose. "I see," he muttered. "No wonder I couldn''t sense you. All these Kaelions¡­ just decoys. You got me. I commend you."

    Valen snorted. "You are still composed, even though you are about to face death? I have to say that I never met someone like you."

    Arayn coughed, blood dripping from his lips, but his expression remained composed. "It is what it is," he said. "You two win."

    Valen¡¯s grip tightened. With a sharp tug, he yanked the spear free. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the ground beneath them.

    Arayn staggered but didn¡¯t fall. Instead, he turned away. The ruined tavern loomed ahead, its broken walls letting him see a throne he had left behind. He moved toward it, each step leaving a trail of crimson.

    He sat.

    Leaning back, he lifted his gaze to the sky. The night stretched endlessly above him, clear and vast, littered with stars. A streak of light cut across the darkness, a falling star.

    A faint smile touched his lips. "The sky is clear today," he murmured. "Not a bad way to go."

    His eyes remained open, but the light within them faded.

    Arayn was dead.

    Darius¡¯s voice echoed in Valen and Kaelion¡¯s minds, confirming that this was not a trick or illusion.

    "Arayn is dead. The killer, Valen Valehn, will be rewarded with 100 points."

    Valen exhaled, his gaze fixed on the lifeless figure slumped on the throne. He knew it was true¡ªhad seen the light leave Arayn¡¯s eyes¡ªbut hearing it confirmed left a strange weight in his chest.

    "If I had fought him one-on-one¡­" Valen murmured, fingers tightening around his spear. "I wouldn¡¯t have won. Not as I am now."

    Kaelion scoffed. "Tch. Troublesome man." He stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the tension of battle. "But he was nothing in the end."

    His boots scraped against the rubble as he approached Arayn. He drew a knife.

    "This is for my clones," he muttered.

    He raised the knife, preparing to stab¡ª

    "Stop."

    Kaelion froze. He felt familiar with the voice.

    Valen turned sharply, his body tensing.

    A woman stood behind them, dressed in a flowing black gown. The wind carried the fabric, making it ripple like shadows given form. Her long white hair drifted with the breeze, strands glowing faintly under the moonlight. Cold red eyes studied them, sharp as a predator¡¯s.

    For a moment, neither Valen nor Kaelion spoke. Then, as if compelled by an unseen force, they dropped to one knee.

    "We greet you, Princess of the Crimson Sun Cult," they greeted in unison.

    Alice stepped forward, her gaze steady. "Leave me alone with him."

    Kaelion frowned. "We can¡¯t do that," he said, crossing his arms. "You have no authority in this ritual. You know the rules¡ªyou can¡¯t take sides."

    "I¡¯m not taking sides," Alice replied, her voice as calm as ever. "As the daughter of the Sovereign and a member of the cult, I let him die. But now, as his older sister, I want to be by his side and give him a proper funeral."

    Silence settled between them. Kaelion glanced at Valen.

    Valen studied Alice for a moment, then nodded.

    "We¡¯ll leave you alone with him," he said. His tone softened slightly. "I¡¯m sorry. I had to do this... because of circumstances. I hope you won¡¯t hate me for it."

    Alice gave a small nod, saying nothing more as she stepped past them.

    As she walked by, Valen found his gaze drawn to her. Up close, her beauty was striking¡ªelegant and cold. It wasn¡¯t just her looks. There was something else. Strength. Resolve. She carried herself with the grace of royalty but the heart of a warrior.

    His fianc¨¦e.

    After the ritual, she would be his. Even without his promise to Darius, he would cherish her.

    Valen exhaled, tearing his gaze away.

    "Let¡¯s go, Kaelion," he said. "It¡¯s time to end this."

    Alice watched as Valen and Kaelion disappeared into the night, their footsteps fading into silence. Only then did she move.

    She stepped toward Arayn, her gaze falling upon his lifeless eyes. A hollow ache settled in her chest.

    Memories surfaced¡ªmemories of the first time she met him, reaching out with an open hand. The days of their childhood, running side by side. Arayn, always ahead. Always winning. Always smug.

    She sank onto his lap, pulling his head against her shoulder. Her arms tightened around him, as if holding him now could change what had already been decided.

    Tears slipped down her cheeks. Her voice trembled.

    "Stupid brother," she whispered. "Even if everything went according to plan... can¡¯t you understand?" Her grip tightened. "Someone can still hurt when you¡¯re hurt."

    ---

    By the flickering campfire, Eryndor sat in silence, his face turned toward the night sky. Though his eyes saw nothing, a shadow of melancholy crossed his features.

    Aveline, seated nearby, noticed his change in expression. "What''s wrong?" she asked.

    For a moment, Eryndor said nothing. Then, in a quiet voice, he replied, "Arayn is dead. Valen killed him."

    Aveline let out a slow sigh, relief washing over her. "He was dangerous. I''m glad we won¡¯t have to face him in the end."

    Eryndor exhaled through his nose. "A pity. Arayn was a good man."

    Aveline frowned, giving him a sideways glance. "I¡¯ll never understand your judgment of people," she muttered. "But we need to focus on what¡¯s ahead. Kaelion and Valen won¡¯t be easy to deal with."

    "True," Eryndor admitted. "They¡¯ll have their tricks."

    Aveline nodded. "They¡¯ll come at us, whether slow or fast. That¡¯s why we should save our strength. We¡¯re not the type to play games. Let¡¯s meet them head-on¡ªwith everything we¡¯ve got."

    ---

    Valen stepped into Darius¡¯s office, his stride steady despite the excitement thrumming beneath his skin. Across the polished desk, Darius looked up, eyes unreadable.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come for my reward,¡± Valen said, his tone respectful yet firm.

    Darius studied him for a moment before reaching into a black lacquered box on his desk. From within, he retrieved a primordial shard. Power pulsed within it, dark and untamed. "The essence of the Heavenly Demon class," he said, holding it out.

    Valen accepted it with both hands, feeling the weight of destiny settle in his grip.

    Kaelion, standing nearby, grinned. ¡°Congratulations, Valen. You¡¯ve won the ritual.¡± He stepped forward and inclined his head. ¡°From this moment, you are the rightful successor of the Crimson Sun Cult.¡±

    Valen exhaled, satisfaction flickering in his eyes, but he shook his head. ¡°Not yet. The ritual isn¡¯t over. Eryndor is still standing.¡±

    Kaelion chuckled. ¡°Then isn¡¯t this the perfect chance to test your new class against him?¡±

    Valen¡¯s fingers tightened around the shard. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± He turned to Kaelion. ¡°Prepare the ritual process. I¡¯m advancing to Expert-class.¡±

    Kaelion nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll see to it immediately.¡±

    Both men turned to Darius, bowing slightly. ¡°Thank you for your guidance, Lord Vex. I promise that I will take care of Alice, Valen said.

    Darius merely waved a hand. ¡°Go. Finish what you started.¡±

    As Valen and Kaelion left the room, the door closing behind them, a slow smirk crept across Darius¡¯s lips. His fingers drummed against his desk. "If you can finish it."

 Chapter 46: Dawn of the Heavenly Demon

    The field stretched wide under the night sky. Valen walked alongside Kaelion, his boots pressing into the ashen soil with each step.

    Kaelion came to a stop and pulled a small vial from his belt. With a sharp twist, he uncorked it, releasing the thick, metallic scent of blood. Tilting the vial, he poured its contents onto the ground, dragging the liquid in sweeping arcs. The dark red lines curled and wove together, forming a magic circle.

    Valen stepped inside, his fingers tightening around the primordial crystal. He inhaled deeply, centering himself, then raised the crystal to his chest.

    "O force beyond time, O echo of the void¡ªhear me. Through the blood that binds, through the stone that endures, through the will that bends all¡ªawaken, Heavenly Demon Class."

    The moment the last word left his lips, the circle reacted. The blood darkened, sinking into the earth as if claimed by something unseen.

    A thin thread of rainbow light rose from the ground, twisting upward before sinking into the crystal. The moment it touched, the crystal flared to life, its surface now glowing with a deep, shifting radiance.

    Valen''s breath hitched. His fingers trembled slightly as he stared at the crystal, then his lips curled into a grin. It worked. He succeeded.

    Kaelion watched in silence before speaking, his voice calm but firm. "Do it. Become the Heavenly Demon, my master."

    Valen met his gaze and nodded. Without hesitation, he parted his lips. The crystal pulsed, and a wisp of rainbow mist drifted from it, curling in the air before seeping into his mouth. A warmth spread through him, growing stronger with each breath. He continued, drawing in every last wisp until the crystal dulled. Empty. Useless.

    As soon as the sensation hit him, he tossed the crystal aside. His heart pounded. His body burned, but it wasn¡¯t pain¡ªit was power.

    A system window flashed before his eyes.

    [You have absorbed the Heavenly Demon class.]

    [Advancing to Expert Class.]

    Then, his aura erupted. A pillar of energy shot into the sky, tearing through the air like a beacon. The heavens trembled. And then¡ªsomething descended.

    A figure loomed above, massive and otherworldly. A giant humanoid with angelic wings stretched wide, yet two curved horns crowned its head like a devil. Its presence was overwhelming, suffocating, divine and unholy at once.

    The Heavenly Demon.

    It gazed down at him, then without warning, its towering form shrank. The wings folded, the horns gleamed, and in a blink, it surged forward¡ªstraight into Valen¡¯s body.

    Valen blinked¡ªand suddenly, everything changed. The world around him faded into an endless white void, stretching infinitely in all directions. No sky, no ground, just an empty expanse of pure light.

    Before him stood a figure so radiant it was almost blinding. The sheer presence of it pressed against his very soul. Instinctively, Valen straightened. "Who are you?" he asked.

    The figure¡¯s brilliance pulsed, and a deep, resonant voice answered, "I am Tyras, the first Heavenly Demon."

    Valen¡¯s breath caught. Without hesitation, he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. "First Heavenly Demon¡­"

    Tyras raised a hand. "Stand," he said. "Every Heavenly Demon is equal."

    Valen hesitated before slowly rising to his feet. His lips parted, a whisper escaping before he could stop himself. "I am equal¡­ to the Archdemon Tyras?"

    Tyras let out a low chuckle. "Don¡¯t let that thought get to your head," he said. "The title alone means nothing. The other demons won¡¯t acknowledge you just because of it. If you want their respect¡ªif you want true power¡ªyou must become stronger."

    Valen clenched his fists. He could feel it, the weight of this name, this legacy. A title alone would not make him feared. Strength would. He lifted his gaze, determination burning in his eyes. "I will," he vowed. "I¡¯ll become stronger¡ªstrong enough to be worthy of this status."

    A system notification appeared.

    [You have successfully advanced into the Heavenly Demon class.]

    [Name: Valen Valehn

    Class: Heavenly Demon

    Level: 21]

    [Heavenly Demon Class Abilities

    Name: Demonic Ascension

    Grade: Rare (Originally Myth)

    Description: Temporarily enhances all physical and magical abilities, granting increased strength, speed, and mana regeneration. While active, the user emits an overwhelming aura that suppresses weaker beings.

    Name: Heaven''s Wrath (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Calls down a storm of divine and demonic energy, dealing massive area damage. This attack ignores conventional defenses and weakens enemies caught within its radius.

    Name: Infernal Dominion (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Exerts absolute authority over those of lower willpower, forcing them into submission or paralyzing them with fear. Stronger enemies may resist but will still experience a weakening effect.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Name: Celestial Demon Body (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Grants an enhanced physique, drastically increasing resilience, stamina, and regeneration. Physical attacks deal reduced damage, and the user can recover from fatal wounds over time.

    Name: Holy-demonic Suppression (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Nullifies both holy and demonic attacks. It can also be used to disrupt enemy spells by destabilizing their mana flow.

    Name: Monarch¡¯s Command (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Empowers the user¡¯s voice with an irresistible force, compelling all who hear it to obey. Requires direct eye contact for full effect, though weaker enemies may submit just from hearing the command.

    Name: Demon God''s Descent (Sealed)

    Grade: Myth

    Description: The ultimate ability of the Heavenly Demon, temporarily transforming the user into a higher celestial-demonic form. While active, all abilities are enhanced to their maximum potential, and the user is able to warp reality around them.]

    Valen blinked. The endless white void vanished in an instant, and the world around him snapped back into place. It was as if nothing had changed¡ªyet he could feel it. The weight of Tyras¡¯s words lingered in his mind, pressing against his thoughts.

    The world was normal again, but Valen knew he wasn¡¯t. He had become the Heavenly Demon.

    Kaelion crossed his arms, watching Valen with a smile. "How is it?" he asked.

    Valen exhaled slowly, still absorbing the information of his transformation. The Heavenly Demon Class¡ªits power coursed through him like a storm held in check. He could feel its potential, the sheer depth of what he had gained. When he glanced at his system window, his excitement dimmed slightly. "Not bad. I have unlocked new features in the system. Although, Only one class ability is unlocked for now," he admitted.

    Kaelion raised an eyebrow. "Isn''t that bad?"

    Valen shook his head. "No, this is normal," he explained. "The Heavenly Demon is originally a Sixth Class. I¡¯ll unlock the rest as I advance through the ranks. If anything, this is better than absorbing different classes just to evolve¡ªI don¡¯t need to go through that hassle. I just need to level up."

    Kaelion¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. "Then congratulations, my master," he said with a slight bow.

    Valen barely acknowledged it. His gaze drifted to the horizon, his thoughts already elsewhere. Then, a grin crept onto his face. "Only Eryndor is left," he murmured. His fingers twitched, eager to test this new power. "Shall we see what the Heavenly Demon can do¡­ against him?"

    Valen bent his knees slightly¡ªthen vanished. In an instant, he was in the air, the wind rushing past him as the ground blurred below. The world streaked by in a flash, and before long, he descended upon the place where Eryndor and Aveline stood.

    The moment they saw him, their stances shifted. They stood on guard, their eyes locked onto him. Valen approached with unhurried steps, his expression calm.

    Eryndor''s gaze narrowed. His senses flared as he felt the unmistakable presence radiating from Valen¡ªa perfect unison of demonic and holy force. "You broke the rule."

    Valen only smiled. "The rule can be adjusted once I¡¯m the only one left," he said smoothly. Then, his tone turned almost amused. "Eryndor, I heard you defeated an opponent one class higher than you. That makes you worthy to be my last opponent."

    Aveline¡¯s grip tightened around her axe as she glanced at Eryndor. ¡°He¡¯s Expert Class now,¡± she said. ¡°We need to work together.¡±

    Eryndor¡¯s eyes remained locked on Valen, his expression serious.

    Before either of them could act, Valen raised a hand, pressing his thumb against his chest. In an instant, the overwhelming intensity of his aura faded, shrinking to a level comparable to theirs. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand,¡± he said calmly. ¡°I¡¯ll fight you both while keeping my strength around your level.¡± He let his hand fall and took a step forward. ¡°Come at me together.¡±

    Eryndor exhaled through his nose. ¡°Teaming up on one person isn¡¯t my style,¡± he admitted. ¡°But since you have a Second Class, I¡¯m sure you understand.¡±

    Valen lifted a hand, curling his fingers in a taunting gesture. ¡°Then come.¡±

    Eryndor and Aveline lunged at Valen in unison. Aveline''s axe carved through the air, aiming for his side, while Eryndor''s sword followed in a precise arc.

    Valen was faster. He arched his back, the attacks slicing through empty space just inches from his body. Then, in one fluid motion, he straightened and shot his hands forward, seizing both of their faces.

    Before they could react, he spun, their bodies whipping around like ragdolls before he hurled them away. They crashed into the ground, rolling before coming to a stop.

    Valen lowered his hand and stared at his palm, flexing his fingers. Then, a laugh rumbled from his chest. "Even without using my class abilities¡­" His grin widened. "This strength is something else."

    Eryndor and Aveline rose to their feet, their eyes burning with determination.

    A deep blue aura surged around Eryndor, crackling like a raging storm. Aveline¡¯s golden aura flared, illuminating the battlefield like the first light of dawn.

    Valen tilted his head. "Finally taking this seriously?" His voice carried a hint of amusement. "Good. You won¡¯t stand a chance otherwise."

    Without hesitation, they shot forward.

    Eryndor¡¯s sword came first, a blur of steel streaking toward Valen¡¯s neck. Valen twisted his body, the blade whistling past his ear. Aveline was right behind, her axe swinging down to split him in two. He ducked, feeling the rush of displaced air as the weapon slammed into the ground, kicking up a burst of dirt and shattered stone.

    They didn¡¯t let up. Eryndor pivoted, thrusting his sword at Valen¡¯s chest. Valen sidestepped, then leaned back as Aveline¡¯s follow-up strike sliced through the space where his head had been a second ago.

    He weaved between their attacks like a shadow, his movements effortless, almost lazy. Then, he raised a hand.

    "Aetherfang."

    A spear tore through the air from nowhere, its silver shaft gleaming as it streaked toward him. He caught it without looking, his grip firm. As Eryndor and Aveline lunged again, he spun the spear, its blade intercepting their weapons with a metallic clang.

    A sharp pulse of force exploded from the impact, and in the same breath, Valen shoved his spear forward, knocking their blades aside.

    Before they could recover, he lashed out with a powerful kick. His foot connected with both of them, sending them flying backward.

    Eryndor and Aveline staggered to their feet once more, their breaths heavy but their resolve unshaken.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t over yet,¡± Eryndor growled.

    Aveline wiped the blood from her lip and nodded. ¡°Not even close.¡±

    Eryndor clenched his fists, his aura flaring. ¡°[Triple Enhancements]!¡± he roared.

    Aveline slammed her axe into the ground, golden energy erupting around her. ¡°[Box of Providence]!¡±

    Their auras expanded with raw power. Eryndor¡¯s blue energy became deeper, denser, his muscles tightening with newfound strength. Aveline¡¯s golden aura solidified, forming a faint, radiant barrier around her.

    Valen felt the shift immediately. The ground beneath them trembled. Their strength had skyrocketed.

    He exhaled, a slow smile spreading across his face. ¡°I admit it,¡± he said. ¡°You two are powerful.¡± His fingers tightened around Aetherfang. ¡°Then I¡¯ll get serious too.¡±

    He spread his arms wide.

    "[Demonic Ascension]!"

    A violent surge of energy erupted from his body. Holy light and demonic darkness clashed, spiraling together into a storm of raw power. The ground cracked beneath his feet, his aura expanding like a tidal wave. Light and shadow intertwined, neither overpowering the other. Two forces combined in perfect harmony.

 Chapter 47: Three Stages of Learning

    A golden light flooded the white space, blinding yet strangely comforting. Arayn narrowed his eyes as he gazed upon the colossal figure before him. The being radiated holiness, its form towering and shrouded in divine brilliance. However, it was no angel. It was a demon.

    Arayn''s thoughts churned. A demon bathed in holy light? How could such a contradiction exist?

    "You wonder why I possess a sacred aura," the being said, his voice resonating through the space like a chorus. "I can hear your thoughts, human. I am Tyras, the first Heavenly Demon."

    Arayn remained composed. "I''m here because I won the battle royale in the Pit. The reward was an audience with you, but I have no idea what I¡¯m supposed to gain from this meeting."

    "Hoh, and yet you have the gall to ask about benefits. For most, meeting me is the reward itself."

    Arayn¡¯s voice was steady. "I''m not interested in mere pleasantries."

    A low chuckle rumbled through the air. "Bold. Very bold," Tyras mused. "But that makes this more interesting. You see, I, too, seek something¡ªsomeone worthy of receiving my teachings."

    Arayn''s lips curled into a faint smile. "Then take me. If it''s about learning, I am the most suitable candidate. My very origin is learning."

    Tyras tilted his head slightly. "And how do you know your own origin?"

    "Just a deduction. I love to learn."

    Tyras chuckled again, a deep sound that carried amusement. "You are actually correct. Your origin is learning. Unlike you, I can see people''s origin by just looking at them, so my words are true. Tell me, human, are you familiar with the three stages of learning?"

    Arayn folded his arms. "Do tell."

    "The first stage is arrogance," Tyras said. "A person, upon acquiring knowledge, feels superior to others. They mistake understanding for mastery."

    Arayn¡¯s interest sharpened. "And the second? The third?"

    Tyras chuckled. "That is for you to discover. I won¡¯t spoil the journey."

    Arayn exhaled lightly. "Very well. Then I will continue learning until I reach the second stage."

    "Interesting." Tyras¡¯s golden radiance flared slightly. "You are indeed a fitting vessel for my teachings. How about it, human? Will you become my disciple?"

    Arayn¡¯s answer was firm. "You''re worthy to be my teacher."

    Tyras let out a rumbling laugh. "Worthy, am I? Well, I do believe you have potential. But, of course, I won¡¯t accept you so easily. A trial is necessary."

    Tyras raised a hand, extending a colossal finger toward Arayn. A sudden force gripped him, and before he could react, something was torn from within. A surge of energy burst from his body, rising into the golden glow of Tyras¡¯s palm.

    "I have extracted your strongest abilities," Tyras explained. "You will walk this path without them. When you near the expert class, I will test you again. If you pass, I will grant you power beyond imagination."

    A system window flashed before Arayn¡¯s eyes.

    [Warning! Your abilities have been extracted.]

    [Phantom Legs: Increases dexterity.

    Burning Stride: Increases dexterity at the cost of consuming other stats.

    Aether Flow: Enhances mana circulation, improving spellcasting speed.

    Predator¡¯s Reflex: Sharpened reactions to lethal intent.

    Tenebrous Veil: Temporarily merges with shadows to evade attacks.

    Ravager¡¯s Will: Boosts physical power when heavily wounded.]

    Arayn clenched his fists as he read the list. He had spent years honing these skills, and now, in an instant, they were gone. Yet, a thrill ran through him. A greater challenge. A higher peak to climb.

    He looked up at Tyras, determination burning in his gaze. "I hope the reward is not disappointing."

    "Let¡¯s see if you can pass the test first." His massive form loomed over Arayn as he extended a colossal finger once more. "And I am not done yet."

    A weightless force coiled around Arayn¡¯s body. A strange sensation spread through his chest, tingling like embers beneath his skin.

    "I grant you a passive curse¡ª[Demonic Aura]. From now on, you will always emit a demonic presence. No matter where you go, others will know what you are." Tyras¡¯s words carried amusement, yet there was something deeper beneath them¡ªan expectation, a challenge.

    Arayn¡¯s fingers twitched. A permanent demonic aura. He would be marked, unmistakable, forever scrutinized. Yet his expression remained calm.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Tyras chuckled, then continued. "But I am not without generosity. You did win the battle royale, after all. As a reward, I grant you my mark of protection. You cannot see it. You cannot feel it, but it is there."

    The golden light around Tyras intensified. "With this mark, I will shield you from dangers beyond your class. This protection will remain until you reach the expert class. After that, you will stand on your own. I wish you good luck, my disciple."

    Arayn¡¯s vision blurred. A moment ago, he had stood before Tyras, but now¡ªhe was drifting.

    The stars stretched endlessly around him, streaks of silver and gold moving at unfathomable speed. They raced toward a swirling vortex at the heart of the void, an abyss of spiraling light and shadow. He was nothing compared to them. Small. Insignificant. A grain of sand caught in a cosmic tide.

    His gaze locked onto the vortex, and in an instant, a torrent of knowledge crashed into his mind. Too fast. Too much. The flood of information overwhelmed him, slipping through his grasp before he could make sense of it. Words, symbols, truths beyond his understanding¡ªall there for a fraction of a second before vanishing into the void.

    Arayn clutched his head. The pressure built, a storm raging within his thoughts. He tried to silence it, to force his mind into stillness. But the rush never stopped. It poured into him, unrelenting, endless.

    After all that happened, clarity struck him. Not of knowledge, but of his place in all this.

    There was too much he didn¡¯t know. Too much he might never understand. He had always thought himself exceptional¡ªhis mind sharp, his intellect unmatched. Here, among the stars and the infinite unknown, he was nothing more than a tiny speck.

    For the first time, he felt small. Irrelevant.

    A strange calm settled over him. He let go. Stopped fighting. Stopped resisting.

    The vortex pulled him in, its gravity swallowing him whole.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes fluttered open.

    A monstrous face filled his vision¡ªcrimson skin, eyes burning with malice, a grin stretching far too wide. Clawed fingers clenched around him, their grip suffocating.

    A deep laugh echoed through the house. "I pulled your soul before you could die," the demon said, his voice dripping with amusement. "We had a deal, after all. Though I must admit, I never expected to collect your soul so soon."

    The demon¡¯s grin widened, his fangs glinting. "But it matters not. You are mine now, human. My slave for eternity."

    Arayn remained unfazed. Then, with a sigh, he spoke.

    "Ignorant fool."

    The demon¡¯s laughter died. His body stiffened. He couldn¡¯t move. His fingers, his limbs, even his wings¡ªfrozen in place, as if bound by unseen chains. Panic flickered in his eyes.

    A voice rang from behind him.

    "Let go of that soul."

    The demon¡¯s eyes darted in confusion. He tried to turn his head, to see the one who dared challenge him.

    "Who are you?" he demanded.

    The voice answered, "I am the master of that soul."

    The demon struggled, his muscles straining against the invisible force that bound him. With sheer will, he tried to turn, to lay eyes on the one who dared to challenge him.

    Before he could move¡ª

    A blur. A flash of motion faster than thought.

    Pain.

    A hand, swift as a blade, sliced through his massive form. His body split apart in a clean, effortless cut. For a moment, there was silence. Then his upper half tumbled to the ground with a heavy thud, his lower half crumbling beside it.

    His vision spun as he stared upward, and finally, he saw the attacker.

    A handsome demon. Long, flowing hair framed a face too composed, too calm. His presence radiated something terrifying in its certainty.

    The fallen demon coughed, thick ichor pooling around him. "Who¡­?" he rasped.

    The long-haired demon gazed down at him, his expression cold. "Only those who seek knowledge are worthy to look upon me." Without hesitation, he lifted his foot and drove it down.

    The last thing the fallen demon saw was the sole of a boot descending upon his face. Then, darkness.

    Arayn stood before the demon. They were of equal height, face to face. However, something was different. The overwhelming, oppressive aura that once radiated from Tyras was gone. In its place was something calmer, something almost¡­ divine. The golden light surrounding him did not threaten or suffocate¡ªit felt vast yet serene.

    Without hesitation, Arayn knelt. "Greetings, Master Tyras."

    Tyras tilted his head, a flicker of surprise crossing his usually indifferent face. "You," he murmured. "Did you see that vortex?"

    Arayn nodded. His voice carried no arrogance, only respect and humility. "Yes, Master Tyras."

    Tyras studied him for a moment, then a smile touched his lips. "You once asked me about the second stage of learning," he said. "Have you figured it out?"

    Arayn lowered his gaze in thought before answering.

    "The second stage of learning is humility," he said. "The more one learns, the more they realize how small they truly are. When I saw that vortex, I understood¡ªeven if I uncovered every secret in this world, it would be nothing compared to the universe itself."

    Tyras chuckled, nodding in approval. "Splendid. As expected, a mere glimpse of the Akashic Record has already taught you something valuable." His golden aura pulsed faintly, a sign of his satisfaction.

    "You pass the test, my disciple."

    Arayn narrowed his eyes. "You never told me what the test was about. It''s weird that I suddenly passed it."

    Tyras smiled. "A trial is meant to make a disciple learn something valuable. You have learned something valuable." He spread his arms slightly. "Which means there is no need to test you further. Instead, you deserve a reward."

    Arayn raised an eyebrow.

    "As your reward," Tyras continued, "I will tell you the third stage of learning¡ª"

    "Hold on." Arayn lifted a hand. "Didn''t you say I should discover it myself?"

    Tyras chuckled, amused by the interruption. "Telling someone in the arrogance stage is pointless. Their glass is already full. No matter how much you pour, nothing will enter."

    He took a step closer, his gaze steady. "But now, you have reached the humility stage. Your glass is not empty¡ªit has grown larger. Now, I can pour knowledge into you, and it will not overflow."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes widened as memories surged through him. His past victories, his countless battles, the moments he stood above others¡ªall of them flashed before him.

    ¡°I always gained the upper hand against someone,¡± he murmured. ¡°That¡¯s why I was always arrogant. Looking back, I was really childish. Even if I won against another frog, I was still inside a well.¡± He exhaled. ¡°I don¡¯t want to be trapped inside the well forever.¡±

    Tyras studied him for a moment before nodding. ¡°Then you must keep learning and applying your knowledge. Even if you uncover every secret of the present world, the future will bring new mysteries. And that¡¯s only one world. The universe is endless. Even I, the strongest in this world, still learn something new every day. Arayn, the universe will never bore you when you reach the third stage of learning.¡±

    Arayn''s breath caught. ¡°What is it, Master?¡±

    Tyras smiled. ¡°The third stage of learning is¡­¡±

 Chapter 48: Expert Class!

    Tyras said, ¡°The third stage of learning is knowing nothing. The more you learn, the more you will realize how insignificant you are. In this stage, you will also become open to new perspectives.¡±

    Arayn lowered his gaze, deep in thought. ¡°I realize I¡¯m small,¡± he murmured. ¡°But I don¡¯t know if I can accept new perspectives. In truth, I still don¡¯t understand other people¡¯s feelings.¡±

    Tyras chuckled softly. ¡°Take your time. Not everyone starts from the same place.¡± He folded his arms. ¡°Demons, for example, start farthest from the Akashic Record compared to other races. Do you know why?¡±

    Arayn shook his head.

    ¡°To reach the Akashic Record, one must achieve a state of ¡®zen.¡¯ The stronger a demon becomes, the greater their demonic energy, and the farther they drift from enlightenment.¡± Tyras exhaled. ¡°However, we can only accept our nature and walk forward without complaint. Through countless hurdles, I achieved enlightenment and received Heavenly Demon class. For demons, only this race is the closest to the Akashic Record. You too, Arayn. Right now, you cannot understand people¡¯s feelings. That¡¯s why seeing from another perspective is impossible for you¡ªfor now. If you work hard, I¡¯m certain a path will open for you. Your origin is learning, after all.¡±

    Arayn nodded. ¡°I will keep your words in mind, Master.¡±

    Tyras smiled. ¡°Good. Leveling up, becoming stronger, seeking the Akashic Record¡ªthese are all heaven-defying pursuits. Nothing is impossible in this universe.¡± His golden eyes gleamed with amusement. ¡°And speaking of that¡­ reviving your body is not impossible either.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s expression remained calm, but his fingers twitched slightly.

    Tyras leaned in. ¡°Let me ask you this, my disciple¡ªyou planned your death. How do you plan to revive yourself?¡±

    Arayn met Tyras¡¯s golden gaze and said calmly, ¡°I recognize you as the one who granted the Heavenly Demon class to the Crimson Sun Cult.¡±

    Tyras laughed. ¡°You¡¯re wrong, my disciple. The one who granted the Primordial Crystal of the Heavenly Demon class was not me, but the second Heavenly Demon¡ªthe ancestor of the Crimson Sun Cult, Azael Crimsonstar.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± Arayn said, unfazed. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t change the fact that receiving that class as a second class is foolishness.¡±

    Tyras raised a brow. ¡°And why do you think that?¡±

    Arayn folded his arms. ¡°Because one cannot use the class to its fullest potential. The balance of the class determines strength, and an ill-fitted combination only hinders progress. I would rather accept a second class that maximizes my path than rush blindly for power.¡± His voice was firm. ¡°In the path of defying the universe, impatience is foolishness.¡±

    Tyras tilted his head. ¡°The Heavenly Demon class is one of the strongest classes to exist. Do you believe you can defeat it?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled slightly. ¡°I can, and I want to trade with you the very class that can counter the Heavenly Demon.¡±

    Tyras¡¯s interest deepened. ¡°And what is this class you speak of?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s voice was unwavering.

    ¡°The Demon Hunter class.¡±

    Tyras threw his head back and laughed, his voice shaking the very air around them. ¡°Truly, you were meant to be my disciple,¡± he said, his amusement settling into satisfaction.

    His golden gaze bore into Arayn. ¡°If you had craved the Heavenly Demon class, I would have revoked your status as my disciple. The reason I chose you was not to raise another Heavenly Demon, but to forge the one who will hunt them. No need to trade, Arayn. I will grant you the Demon Hunter class for free. In return, I ask for only one thing¡ªdefeat the Heavenly Demon.¡±

    Arayn met his gaze without hesitation. A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. ¡°That was my plan from the start.¡±

    Tyras¡¯s expression turned solemn. ¡°The Demon Hunter class is one of the rarest to exist,¡± he began. ¡°Not many who awaken it survive long enough to grow in power. That¡¯s because demons despise it more than any other class. However, that¡¯s not the only reason.¡± His gaze hardened.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°To become a Demon Hunter, one must take in demon blood and become half-demon. That is why even other races revile them. A Demon Hunter is neither fully human nor fully demon¡ªan outcast to all.¡±

    With a flick of his wrist, a crystalline shard materialized in his palm. It shimmered, pulsating with crimson energy. Tyras held it out. ¡°This Primordial Crystal contains the Demon Hunter class. The catalyst to activate it is both a human soul and demon blood.¡±

    His voice deepened. ¡°Yes, a human must abandon their body while still conscious, existing only in their soul form.¡± A slow smile spread across his lips. ¡°That means you are in the perfect condition to awaken this class.¡±

    Raising his other hand, Tyras extended a single finger and dragged his nail across the skin. A drop of his blood welled up and dripped onto the crystal. The moment it made contact, the crystal trembled violently, its glow intensifying.

    ¡°The stronger the demon¡¯s blood, the greater the Demon Hunter¡¯s potential,¡± Tyras declared. ¡°I am the strongest demon. My blood is the best catalyst to awaken this class."

    The crystal pulsed, its glow turning blinding. Tyras raised it high.

    ¡°Now¡­ awaken, Primordial Crystal.¡±

    Tyras extended his hand, the Primordial Crystal resting in his palm. Its surface pulsed, veins of crimson light flickering within. The air around it twisted, distorting like heat rising from scorched earth.

    ¡°Take it,¡± Tyras said.

    Arayn reached out, his fingers brushing against the smooth crystal. The moment he grasped it, the energy within surged, writhing like a living thing. A wisp of crimson smoke curled from the crystal¡¯s surface, drifting toward his face.

    Without hesitation, Arayn brought the crystal closer to his lips. He parted them slightly, inhaling the smoke. The essence flowed into him, burning as it coiled through his translucent form. The pain was sharp, but he endured it, drawing in every last wisp until the crystal dimmed¡ªits power utterly consumed.

    A deep pulse echoed through his being. His spectral body began to solidify. Mana condensed into flesh, veins igniting with new strength. His heartbeat returned, slow at first, then steady, then powerful.

    A chime resounded in his mind.

    [You have absorbed Primordial Crystal: Demon Hunter]

    [Advancing into Demon Hunter]

    [You have become a Demon Hunter]

    [Congratulation! You have opened Patron and Origin features]

    [Automatically assigns Tyras as your Patron. Tyras has granted the Mark of Archdemon]

    [Name: Mark of Archdemon

    Grade: Myth

    Description: Tyras observes and protects you. He will punish any people who are higher class than you if they try to harm you.]

    [Automatically assigns Loxyr as your Patron. Loxyr has granted the Mark of the Jester]

    [Name: Mark of the Jester

    Grade: -

    Description: Loxyr observes you.]

    [You have experienced death once. Your origin ''Learning'' has awakened]

    [Calculating karma and the user''s experience]

    [Causality has been determined. You have seen the Akashic Record. You have acquired Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal]

    [Name: Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal

    Grade: Rare (growth type)

    Rank: EX

    Description: This ability allows the user to analyze demonic abilities and copy them for their own use. When the user sees a demonic ability in action, their eyes break it down, understanding its structure and mechanics. Once the progress is complete, the user can replicate the ability as if it were their own.]

    [Congratulation! You have reached the expert class! Your abilities are evolving in accordance with your current class!]

    [Ancient Demon Language has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare!]

    [Soul Rend has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare! Detecting a magical item with the same ability. Absorbing The item''s ability. The rank of the ability is reserved!]

    [Dark Pact has evolved into Conquest Demon''s Form!]

    [Demonic Aura has evolved into Demon Hunter''s Aura!]

    [Demonic Step has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare!]

    [Cursed Fang has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare!]

    [Infernal Aegis has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare!]

    [Inferno Torrent has reached a higher grade! Magic -> Rare!]

    [Abilities:

    Name: Ancient Demon Language

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: C

    Description: A lost tongue of the demons, capable of reshaping and manipulating demonic power.

    Name: Soul Rend

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: B

    Description: An attack that tears into the soul of the target, causing both physical and spiritual damage.

    Name: Conquest Demon''s Form

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: B

    Description: This ability allows the user to transform into a powerful Conquest Demon, greatly enhancing their strength, speed, and durability. The user can still use Dark Pact II.

    Name: Demon Hunter''s Aura

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: B

    Description: An active buff that radiates demonic energy, weakening nearby enemies and causing fear. A passive trait that grants bonus 200% damage to demons.

    Name: Demonic Step

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: D

    Description: Leap short distances using demonic energy.

    Name: Cursed Fang

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: D

    Description: A crimson fang imbued with destructive demonic energy. Can be used as a melee weapon or thrown as a projectile that explodes on impact.

    Name: Infernal Aegis

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: D

    Description: Surrounds the caster with a shield that absorbs a percentage of incoming damage and reflects a portion of it back at attackers.

    Name: Inferno Torrent

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: D

    Description: The user unleashes a powerful crimson beam of demonic energy. The beam''s intensity increases with the user''s power, making it a devastating long-range attack.]

 Chapter 49: Testing the Eyes

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demon Hunter

    Level: 21

    Patron: 1. Tyras. 2. Loxyr

    Origin: Learning

    Strength: 58

    Dexterity: 60

    Constitution: 80

    Intelligence: 84

    Wisdom: 50

    Charisma: 62]

    Arayn examined his stats, a sense of satisfaction settling in. They had doubled now that he had reached the expert class. No wonder people said the gap between level 20 and 21 was enormous.

    What excited him even more was the awakening of his origin ability, [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal]. A growth-type skill. As long as it advanced to a higher grade, its rank would never drop.

    He shifted his focus to his other abilities. Most had ranked down, but that was expected. When an ability evolved to a higher grade, its rank often dropped. It was only a temporary setback. He just needed to find a way to restore them.

    A few, however, remained unchanged. Those were the evolved abilities from his demon hunter class. Not only had they kept their ranks, but they had also gained new traits, strengthening his arsenal even further.

    Tyras glanced at Arayn. "How are you feeling?"

    Arayn gave a slight nod. "I feel good."

    Tyras leaned back, arms crossed. "So, how do you plan to return to the human realm?"

    Arayn smirked. "I have a plan, but there''s no rush."

    "Good timing, then," Tyras said. "I stole your abilities before. Want them back?"

    Arayn''s smirk widened. "Perfect chance to test my new eyes."

    Tyras chuckled. "I''ll teach you one ability. But first¡ª" He looked at the empty space above Arayn. "Loxyr, come out and greet your father."

    A handsome demon materialized above Arayn. "Long time no see, Father," he said. There was no trace of mischief in his expression¡ªonly nervous restraint.

    Tyras shot him a sharp look. "You¡¯ve got some nerve," he scolded. "Becoming my disciple¡¯s patron without offering him a single benefit? Bold of you."

    Loxyr raised his hands in defense. "I was going to do that once you were gone," he muttered.

    Tyras wasn¡¯t having it. "Do it now."

    "Alright, alright!" Loxyr said quickly. "No need to get angry, Father."

    Loxyr descended gracefully, landing before Arayn with a smirk. "So, what kind of benefit do you want from me?"

    Arayn crossed his arms. "That depends. What can you do?"

    Loxyr tilted his head, then gestured toward the sword lying on the ground.

    Arayn frowned. "How did my sword follow me here?" he muttered.

    Tyras let out a short laugh. "You and that sword are compatible. Your abilities are too similar. It¡¯s probably starting to become a soulbound artifact."

    Loxyr nodded. "Father¡¯s right. The sword sacrificed one of its abilities to keep your [Soul Rend] at its current rank." He folded his arms. "I can transfer the last remaining ability from the sword to you, but the sword will be destroyed in the process."

    Arayn barely hesitated. "Go ahead. I need to get rid of it anyway. It¡¯s evidence I can¡¯t leave behind."

    Loxyr picked up the sword, his fingers gliding over its surface as dark energy coiled around it. The blade trembled, its form dissolving into a radiant orb pulsing with power. Without hesitation, Loxyr thrust it into Arayn¡¯s chest.

    A surge of energy rushed through him, burning yet invigorating. Then, a familiar chime echoed in his mind.

    [You have acquired the ability: Soulsteal.]

    A system window appeared before Arayn, the words glowing faintly. He exhaled, feeling the new power settle within him.

    [Name: Soulsteal

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: C

    Description: When the user kills someone, they absorb the target¡¯s soul and convert it into lifeforce, increasing their lifespan. The stronger the soul, the greater the effect.]

    Loxyr gave Arayn a parting glance. "Your patron''s contract will end once you reach the elite class," he said. Then, without another word, he vanished.

    Tyras scoffed. "That demon¡¯s always up to something. Be careful when making deals with him."

    Arayn shrugged. "I¡¯ll worry about that later. Right now, I want to learn the ability you promised me."

    Tyras nodded. "Follow me."

    They stepped outside the house. A vast, crimson landscape stretched before them. They stood atop a red hill, the ground cracked and pulsing with faint embers. Tyras turned to Arayn, a smirk playing on his lips. "Welcome to the Netherworld."This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Arayn scanned his surroundings. A red sky loomed overhead, casting a dull glow over the land. The ground beneath him shared the same crimson hue, hardened and dry. The air was thick with demonic energy, clinging to his skin like an unseen weight. Yet, aside from the overwhelming presence of red, it resembled the human world in many ways.

    Tyras chuckled. "I can guess what you''re thinking. Everything here looks like the human world, right?" He gestured at the land before them. "That¡¯s because this is an inhabitable region of the Netherworld. This city is called Valak City. Outside its borders, you¡¯ll experience the Netherworld in its true form."

    Tyras crossed his arms and glanced at Arayn. "We¡¯ll train here. You don¡¯t have much time, so whether you master this or not depends entirely on your aptitude." A smirk tugged at his lips. "I know you have a taste for footwork abilities, so I¡¯ll only demonstrate this once. Watch carefully."

    Arayn¡¯s eyes sharpened as he activated [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal]. His irises darkened into a deep crimson, intricate black patterns spiraling outward like cracks in shattered glass. The sclera turned pitch black, and faint ember-like wisps trailed from the corners. His vision changed¡ªtime stretched, every movement slowing, every detail magnified. He could see the flow of demonic energy shifting in the air, tracing the paths of movement before they even began.

    Tyras exhaled, then moved.

    The ground beneath his feet cracked as he vanished. Not a sound, not a ripple in the air¡ªjust absence. A fraction of a second later, he reappeared on the far end of the hill, standing with ease. Then again, he flickered, materializing to Arayn¡¯s left, then to his right, then behind him. The red dust barely had time to settle before he moved again.

    With his eyes, Arayn caught glimpses¡ªthe subtle tilt of a foot, the precise shift of weight, the faint twist of his torso before each burst of motion. There was no wasted effort. Every step carried intent, every flicker of movement seamless, like the wind itself had willed him forward.

    Then, Tyras stopped, standing exactly where he had begun. He turned to Arayn, raising an eyebrow. "Well? Did you catch that?"

    Arayn didn¡¯t reply. Instead, he lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs as he closed his eyes. Silence settled around him. He shut out the red sky, the eerie landscape, the weight of Tyras¡¯s gaze.

    In his mind, he replayed every movement, dissecting each shift in Tyras¡¯s stance, the subtle bends in his knees, the way his energy flowed. At a glance, it seemed like a simple high-speed footwork technique, but Arayn knew better. There was something deeper, something more profound.

    His eyes had caught it¡ªthe hidden secret buried beneath the speed.

    When Tyras moved from point A to B, his steps were soundless. No air displacement. No flicker of presence. He simply turned invisible and vanished. When he transitioned from point B to C, something changed. At the instant of departure, an afterimage appeared from point A, mimicking his movement when he had leaped to point B.

    The afterimage carried destructive energy, lashing out against the surroundings like a lingering echo of motion. To the untrained eye, the afterimage was the real body, a perfect bait that misled opponents into attacking where Tyras had been, only to be caught in the explosion of residual force.

    Arayn¡¯s brow furrowed slightly. The technique wasn¡¯t just about speed; it was deception woven into movement, an artful blend of misdirection and destructive power.

    [You have analyzed Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage. Your progress is 10%]

    Arayn opened his eyes. The red sky loomed above, but his focus remained sharp.

    Tyras watched him closely. ¡°How is it? Can your eyes replicate it?¡±

    Arayn exhaled, flexing his fingers as he processed the technique. ¡°It¡¯s doable,¡± he said. ¡°I just need time.¡±

    Tyras gave a satisfied nod. ¡°Good. I¡¯ll be here until you master the move.¡±

    Arayn raised a brow. ¡°Aren¡¯t you busy?¡±

    Tyras smiled. ¡°My schedule with you is the most important.¡±

    Arayn chuckled. ¡°Seems like you¡¯re nurturing me for something.¡±

    Tyras didn¡¯t deny it. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll explain if you can defeat the Third Heavenly Demon.¡±

    Arayn turned away, rolling his shoulders as he stepped forward. ¡°Then watch closely. I¡¯ll set the deadline in three days.¡±

    Arayn planted his foot on the cracked red earth, his muscles coiled like a drawn bow. The moment he pushed off, the world blurred. He shot forward.

    He landed, exhaling sharply.

    Again.

    This time, he adjusted his weight. He bent lower, focused on the sensation Tyras had demonstrated, weightless yet firm, swift yet controlled. His foot barely kissed the earth before he propelled himself forward. The wind curled around him.

    Then, a misstep. His landing created a slight impact, a ripple of dust breaking the illusion. No afterimage. No destructive energy. Just him, standing there, short of his goal.

    Arayn clenched his jaw. Not enough.

    He went again. Over and over, his body moving in bursts. Each attempt edged him closer, his steps became lighter, his momentum smoother. His presence flickered, but the afterimage refused to manifest. The raw power of the technique remained just out of reach.

    His breathing grew heavier, his body drenched in sweat. Hours must have passed, but he didn¡¯t stop. He couldn''t.

    Just as he prepared for another attempt, a chime rang in his ears.

    A system window flickered into view.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Shattered Mirage: 20%]

    Arayn exhaled and lowered himself onto the red earth, feeling the heat of the ground seep through his clothes. His muscles ached, his lungs burned, but the system message was proof that he was on the right path. He closed his eyes, replaying the sensation of movement, the fleeting moment when his step had almost become weightless.

    He needed to grasp that feeling again. Refine it. Control it.

    Footsteps approached. Tyras stopped beside him. "Do you want a tip?"

    Arayn opened his eyes. He didn''t hesitate. "Go ahead."

    Tyras nodded, then without another word, he moved. In an instant, he vanished. A rush of wind followed, barely a whisper against the still air. Then, just as suddenly, he reappeared several meters away, standing as if he had never left. An afterimage flickered where he had stood, surging as if chasing him. Before it could close the distance, Tyras disappeared again, reappearing before Arayn. They watched together as the afterimage exploded.

    "Watch closely," Tyras said.

    Arayn scanned the ground where Tyras had moved. His eyes sharpened. Footprints marking the path Tyras had taken.

    "I left those for you," Tyras said. "Analyze them. Learn it step by step."

    Arayn pushed himself up, dusting off his palms. His gaze locked onto the first footprint.

    "Thanks," he said.

    Arayn crouched down, his fingers hovering just above the footprints Tyras had left behind. Four distinct impressions marked the ground¡ªtwo shallow, two deep. His brows furrowed as he studied them. If the original Tyras had only left shallow prints, then the deeper ones belonged to the afterimage.

    His eyes narrowed. Afterimages leaving footprints... It defied logic. They weren¡¯t supposed to be real, yet here was the proof beneath his feet.

    Shifting his focus, he traced the lingering energy in the air. Tyras had deliberately left behind a faint trail¡ªsomething he could have erased entirely. Arayn understood the unspoken lesson. His mentor had given him a chance to dissect every movement, every nuance of the technique.

    Then, like a puzzle clicking into place, realization struck. The secret wasn¡¯t just in the footwork. It was in the way the energy was woven into each step.

    Arayn¡¯s lips curled into a small smile. He had found the key. Now, all that was left was to execute it.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Shattered Mirage: 30%]

 Chapter 50: Training Destructive Mirage

    Arayn steadied his breath and let his aura flow, not forcing it, but allowing it to move as naturally as air filling a room. Then, he leaped. The ground beneath him pulsed with the lingering weight of his aura, but he carried none of it with him. His presence had vanished, yet the echo of his power remained.

    As he landed at spot B, he repeated the process. Another leap¡ªhis aura stayed behind, clinging to where he had stood, while he moved forward untouched by it. The moment he arrived at spot C, a shift occurred. From spot A, where it had all begun, a surge of destructive energy erupted. It tore through the air, racing toward spot B like a force awakened from slumber.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 40%]

    Arayn stood still, replaying each step in his mind. His movements had been silent, his aura had manifested with force, yet something was missing. There were gaps¡ªflaws he couldn''t ignore.

    His presence still lingered when he moved. That needed to change. True silence wasn¡¯t just the absence of sound; it was the absence of existence itself. He had to erase himself completely, leaving nothing for the senses to grasp.

    Speed was another issue. He wasn''t slow, but he wasn''t fast enough. If he wanted this technique to be flawless, he had to move like a shadow slipping between flickering torchlight¡ªseen one moment, gone the next.

    Then there was the final piece. The destructive aura. It was powerful, but crude. He needed to refine it, to shape it into something more than just raw force. If he could mold it into an afterimage, something that lingered like a ghost of his presence, he could turn deception into a weapon.

    There was still work to be done, but that was fine. Perfection was never immediate. It was built, refined, sharpened, and carved into something undeniable. He needed to be patient and diligent.

    Arayn took a slow breath, centering himself. This time, he would refine one flaw¡ªerase his presence, move faster. No wasted movement. No lingering trace.

    He let his aura flow, guiding it downward, pooling it at his feet. The moment it gathered, he pushed off. His speed surged. The ground blurred beneath him. Faster. Lighter. He landed at spot B and leaped again, momentum carrying him toward spot C in an instant.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 50%]

    Something was wrong. His presence still clung to the air. Even as his body moved like the wind, the weight of his existence remained. He hadn''t erased himself; he had only grown faster.

    It wasn¡¯t enough. Not yet.

    Arayn stood still, deep in thought. There had to be a way to move without leaving a trace¡ªwithout existing in the eyes of his enemies. But how? Before he could delve further, Tyras approached.

    "Look above you," Tyras said. "Do you see that bird?"

    Arayn glanced up. A massive demonic beast soared through the sky, its wings stretching wide like the sails of a warship. Its body was lean but powerful, with razor-sharp talons and a long beak.

    Tyras exhaled. "I''ll give you one last chance to observe my movement."

    Arayn''s eyes sharpened. He activated [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal], his vision shifting as intricate patterns of energy traced themselves across the world. He would not miss a single detail.

    The bird suddenly plummeted. A gash had already opened across its neck. Blood sprayed, its body twitching midair. Yet, Tyras hadn''t moved.

    Then, in a blur, he leaped. His hand traced the same wound, a second slash forming over the first. In the next instant, Tyras exploded.

    Arayn frowned. His senses stretched outward, trying to grasp what had happened. Then, his breath hitched. Tyras was beside him all along. Not in the air. Not where the explosion had been, but standing right there, as if he had never left.

    Tyras glanced at him. "Can you comprehend that?"

    Arayn¡¯s eyes widened as realization struck him like a hammer to the skull. His breath came sharp, his mind racing through every step he had taken until now.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been approaching this in the wrong order,¡± he muttered, then clenched his fists. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have focused on erasing my presence first. That was a mistake. I need to refine the afterimage first¡ªmake it so perfect, so convincing, that my real presence fades on its own.¡± After saying that, the system window appeared, as if approving his idea.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 60%]

    A low chuckle came from beside him. Tyras smiled, arms crossed. ¡°Correct.¡±

    Arayn exhaled slowly, clearing his mind. He let his aura flow¡ªnot just from his feet, but through every part of his body. It seeped outward, spreading evenly, until his form shimmered with raw energy.

    Then, he willed it to change. The aura darkened, twisting into something more volatile. Destructive aura. He molded it, sculpting its shape until it no longer drifted aimlessly¡ªit took form. His form. A perfect afterimage of himself, lingering where he once stood.

    At the same time, he guided a portion of his aura downward, concentrating it at his feet. Just for a moment. Then, he leaped.

    The instant his feet touched the ground again, something clicked. The answer was there, right in front of him.

    This was the way.

    If he left his presence within the afterimage, people''s attention would be drawn to it. They would see it, sense it, mistake it for him. However, it wasn¡¯t enough. Misdirection alone wasn¡¯t the goal. This technique wasn¡¯t just about confusing the enemy. It was about disappearing entirely.

    To master it, he had to go beyond deception. He had to erase himself from sight, from perception, from existence itself.

    He wasn¡¯t there yet. Not fully. However, he had the key.

    Arayn pieced it together in his mind¡ªthe correct way to use the footwork. It had to be separated into three distinct parts.

    First, creating the afterimage.

    Second, vanishing from existence.

    Third, increasing speed.

    He had already mastered the first and third. His destructive afterimage was flawless, and his speed had increased significantly, but the second part¡ªthe most crucial one¡ªremained unfinished.

    Vanishing from existence wasn¡¯t just about turning invisible. It meant erasing himself completely, not just from sight but from all senses. No one should be able to hear, feel, or even perceive his presence. A true disappearance.

    First things first. He pushed everything else aside. The afterimage, speed, destruction¡ªnone of it mattered now. There was only one goal.

    Turning invisible.

    He had already analyzed the footwork with his [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal]. He knew how Tyras did it. He understood the way aura had to flow, the way it had to bend around him rather than radiate outward. Now, it was time to apply it.

    He controlled his breath. Cleared his thoughts. Focused. Then, in a single attempt, he turned invisible.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 70%]

    Arayn steadied his breath, pushing himself deeper into the art of erasure. Turning invisible was one thing, but true disappearance required more.

    Now that he had succeeded in vanishing from sight, he had a hint¡ªan instinct¡ªon how to erase his presence entirely.

    He curved his intent, suppressing it instead of letting it radiate outward. No killing intent, no hostility, nothing that could alert a keen observer. Then, he controlled his breathing, slowing it until it was imperceptible. Finally, he used his aura to manipulate his body¡¯s heat, dispersing it so no one could detect him through warmth alone.

    One attempt. That was all it took.

    In that moment, Arayn wasn¡¯t just unseen¡ªhe was nonexistent.

    Then, with a single breath, he released it. His presence returned.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 80%]

    Tyras clapped his hands once, a smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°Not bad,¡± he said. ¡°To do it in one try¡­ As expected of your Corlust Eyes.¡±

    His expression soon turned serious. ¡°But don¡¯t get ahead of yourself. There are still two things left. First, you need to attack while vanishing. And second, you must combine everything into a single, seamless footwork.¡±

    Tyras raised his right hand. ¡°Start with attacking while vanishing. You may target my palm.¡±

    Arayn vanished from existence. His presence, his heat, his intent¡ªall erased, but the moment he moved, the effect broke. His existence returned as if he had never vanished at all.

    He exhaled slowly and focused. Again.

    This time, he moved with careful precision. Step by step, he maintained the state of erasure. Success. He could now move while vanishing, but when he struck out, aiming for Tyras¡¯s palm, he reappeared.

    Failure.

    He tried again and again. Each time, the same result. The moment he attacked, his intent radiated. Even if he suppressed it before moving, the act of striking made it surface. However, stopping wasn¡¯t the solution. If he hesitated, the technique would be useless.

    He kept going. Over and over, he threw his fist at Tyras¡¯s palm. Again. Again. Again.

    Tyras remained still, his expression serious. He didn¡¯t yawn, didn¡¯t sigh, didn¡¯t get bored. He took each blow patiently.

    Hours passed. Arayn lost count of how many times he failed. Dozens? Hundreds? It didn¡¯t matter. He kept going. Then, his fist connected.

    Tyras¡¯s palm stopped his strike, but this time, he had remained vanished. No presence. No intent. Nothing.

    [Progress in mastering Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage: 90%]

    Tyras smiled. ¡°Well done.¡± He lowered his hand. ¡°People at your level wouldn¡¯t be able to perceive your attack.¡±

    Arayn gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his face. ¡°Still¡­ you perceive me.¡±

    Tyras chuckled. ¡°Of course. I¡¯m the strongest. I stand at the peak of the pyramid. If you want to reach my level, don¡¯t get impatient. Climb a level at a time.¡±

    "Sure," Arayn said, exhaling.

    Tyras raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I thought you''d say something like, ''I''ll definitely reach your level'' or ''I''ll surpass you.''"

    Arayn met his gaze, unbothered. "Saying that would be foolish. Why state the obvious?"

    Tyras chuckled, shaking his head. "And here I thought you''d finally learned how to be humble."

    Arayn frowned. "I don¡¯t think I was being arrogant this time."

    Tyras¡¯s smirk widened. "So you don¡¯t set it as a goal because you think it¡¯s something natural." He paused, considering. "Interesting. Then, as your master, I shouldn¡¯t be a hindrance to your growth."

    He turned, stretching his arms. "Come on. You still need to master the last step¡ªcombining all the parts into a perfect footwork. Come with me with all you have gotten. The last part isn''t as simple as the previous parts!"

 Chapter 51: Intense Training

    Arayn exhaled slowly, letting his aura seep out, shaping it into an afterimage that stood where he once was. Then, with a sharp burst of movement, he leaped. His form vanished, slipping between reality and illusion. When he landed, he turned back. The afterimage trailed behind, mimicking his path exactly.

    It looked flawless. However, as Arayn met Tyras¡¯s gaze, the man shook his head.

    "Not yet," Tyras said.

    Arayn didn¡¯t argue. If it were perfect, the system would have confirmed it. Ninety percent wasn¡¯t one hundred. There was still something missing. He steadied himself and pushed forward, his movements flowing once more as he chased that final step.

    Arayn moved without hesitation. His aura bled into the air, shaping his afterimage as he stepped forward. He vanished mid-leap, his presence flickering out of existence. The afterimage trailed behind, mirroring his exact path. Again. And again.

    Even though it seemed perfect, something was still off.

    Tyras remained silent now, watching. Arayn could feel it¡ªperfection was just out of reach, teasing him like a shadow slipping through his fingers. He pushed harder. Faster. Each movement refined, each step honed, until instinct took over. His body stopped thinking. It simply moved. Then, it happened.

    Ding!

    [You have achieved 100% mastery of Calamity Step: Destructive Mirage. Your dexterity has increased by 10!]

    [Name: Calamity Step: First Form - Destructive Mirage

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: A+

    Description: Calamity Step: Destructive Mirage is a high-level footwork technique that distorts perception and misleads opponents through seamless movement and illusion. It is divided into three key parts: creating the destructive afterimage, vanishing from existence, and leaping.]

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demon Hunter

    Level: 21

    Patron: 1. Tyras. 2. Loxyr

    Origin: Learning

    Strength: 58

    Dexterity: 70

    Constitution: 80

    Intelligence: 84

    Wisdom: 50

    Charisma: 62]

    Arayn came to a halt. A smirk tugged at his lips. He had done it. The dexterity increase was also a pleasant surprise.

    Tyras crossed his arms, a rare smile tugging at his lips. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I didn¡¯t expect you to master it in a single day.¡± His voice held no mockery, only genuine surprise. ¡°Impressive.¡±

    Arayn barely acknowledged the praise. His gaze remained fixed ahead, mind already moving past this achievement. ¡°This isn¡¯t enough,¡± he said. ¡°I need to level up more if I want a real chance.¡±

    Tyras sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t rush.¡± He studied Arayn for a moment, then nodded to himself. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning to do this yet, but¡­¡± He paused, as if weighing his decision. ¡°Your improvement was faster than I thought. So, I¡¯ll teach you another technique.¡± His expression sharpened. ¡°This time, it¡¯s an attack technique.¡±

    Arayn turned to him, his usual cold focus flickering with curiosity.

    Tyras studied Arayn for a moment before asking, ¡°Do you want a quick attack¡ªsomething you can use often? Or an ultimate technique, a last resort?¡±

    Arayn didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°The ultimate attack.¡±

    Tyras smirked. ¡°I thought so.¡± He took a step back. ¡°Activate your Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s scleras darkened as he complied. His vision sharpened, every shift in mana and movement becoming clearer.

    Tyras bent down, grabbing a simple stick from the ground. At first, it seemed like nothing, but then his mana surged. Black and red energy gathered around the wood, twisting and writhing like a living fire. Then, with a single swing, Tyras unleashed the energy.

    A red-black beam erupted from the arc of his strike, carving through the air with terrifying force. The sky split apart where it passed, the clouds torn asunder. The power in that single motion was absolute.

    Tyras let the stick fall to his side and turned to Arayn. ¡°This move is called [Conquest Sword Art: First Form ¨C Impose]. At a glance, it seems simple. But it¡¯s more profound than that.¡± He met Arayn¡¯s gaze, a knowing glint in his eyes. ¡°I know you¡¯ve already figured that out with those eyes.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal] flickered as he analyzed the energy Tyras had just unleashed. His vision dissected every strand of power, breaking it down to its very essence.

    The red energy¡ªdemonic energy¡ªwas violent. Unlike ordinary mana, which flowed in harmony, it carried an innate destructive will, seeking to consume and overpower.

    The black energy¡ªdarkness energy¡ªwas different. It didn¡¯t just destroy; it weakened. It seeped into the opponent¡¯s resistance, dulling their defense, their awareness, their very essence. Darkness energy wasn¡¯t about brute force¡ªit was about inevitability. A slow decay, an unraveling of everything it touched. Its presence alone was enough to sap power, induce fatigue, and strip away magical reinforcements.

    When the two combined¡­

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed as he replayed the moment Tyras swung the stick. The fusion of demonic and darkness energy didn¡¯t just amplify their individual effects¡ªit created something new. A devastating force that ignored resistance entirely. The demonic energy shattered defenses, tearing apart any attempt to block or deflect. The darkness energy ensured that nothing could withstand it, corroding protections from within, leaving the target vulnerable to absolute destruction.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    This wasn¡¯t just an attack. It was an execution. A strike that didn¡¯t care for barriers, armor, or regeneration. It dealt pure damage to body and soul.

    Arayn clenched his fists. If he could wield this power, he would become several times stronger. However, now that he had seen the ability, he knew well that he couldn''t learn it normally in five days. He only had that much time left before the destined confrontation with the Heavenly Demon.

    Tyras watched Arayn in silence for a moment before speaking. ¡°Will you spend the rest of your remaining time here mastering this technique?¡±

    Arayn turned to him, his expression unwavering. ¡°What a foolish question, Master. My origin is learning. It¡¯s natural that I would love to learn. Now that my origin has awakened, it¡¯s my duty to behave in accordance with it.¡±

    Tyras smirked. ¡°Excellent answer.¡± His gaze hardened, the weight of his expectations settling over Arayn. ¡°Then I won¡¯t be watching you directly anymore. You¡¯re on your own.¡± He took a step back, folding his arms. ¡°Prove that you are worthy of your origin.¡±

    With that, he turned away, leaving Arayn alone on the top of the hill.

    Arayn gripped the same stick Tyras had used, his fingers tightening around the rough wood. He took a slow breath, then willed demonic energy to surge through it. The response was immediate.

    Red mana flared around the stick, twisting and writhing as if alive. This part was easy. As someone from the Demonic Faction, this energy was his very nature¡ªan extension of himself. It flowed effortlessly, coating the weapon in its violent, destructive power.

    Then, he released it. A pulse of red energy shot outward, dissipating into the air.

    That wasn¡¯t enough.

    Now came the true challenge.

    He had to change his mana¡¯s nature¡ªconvert what was inherently demonic into darkness energy.

    Arayn closed his eyes for a brief moment. Changing one¡¯s mana nature was something only a few could achieve. It was a slow, grueling process, but he had seen Tyras do it. More than that, his Corlust Eyes had shown him how.

    When he opened his eyes again, they gleamed with insight. The method was clear. Now, he only had to make it his own.

    Arayn stood still, focusing entirely on the energy within him. He could feel the demonic mana coursing through his veins¡ªwild, aggressive, consuming. He didn¡¯t try to suppress it. Instead, he let himself sink into its essence, peeling away its layers with his mind.

    He felt its molecules, the chaotic, burning nature that made it so powerful. This energy wasn¡¯t meant to change¡ªit was meant to dominate. However, he wasn¡¯t trying to fight it. He was trying to reshape it.

    With slow, deliberate control, he willed the mana to shift, to alter its structure to resemble darkness.

    The moment he attempted it, the energy shattered. The mana collapsed, dispersing back into demonic nature.

    Arayn inhaled sharply. Then, he tried again.

    And again.

    And again.

    Each time, the result was the same. The moment he forced demonic energy to transform, it broke apart, unraveling before it could stabilize. It rejected his command, refusing to bend. He didn¡¯t stop. He refused to stop.

    He kept pushing, kept adjusting, searching for the exact method Tyras had used. His Corlust Eyes had shown him the way, and now it was only a matter of matching action to knowledge.

    Time passed without meaning. His body screamed for rest, but he ignored it.

    Failure.

    Failure.

    Failure.

    Then¡ªsuccess.

    The mana in his grasp changed. The aggressive, raging flow of demonic energy shifted, its molecules realigning, its nature darkening. The energy cooled, no longer seeking destruction.

    Darkness mana.

    Arayn exhaled, exhaustion gnawing at him, but he didn¡¯t stop. He gathered the darkness mana around the stick, watching as the once-fiery glow of red turned into a deep black.

    He inspected it carefully, his sharp gaze analyzing every detail. The energy felt foreign, yet familiar. This was it.

    He had taken the first step.

    Arayn¡¯s stomach twisted with hunger, a sharp reminder that he had been training without rest. He exhaled and turned toward the demon¡¯s house.

    Inside, he scanned for anything edible. Dried meat. A stack of it was stored on a stone shelf.

    He grabbed a piece and bit into it.

    The taste was strange. Not rotten, not unpleasant, just unfamiliar. It was dense, tougher than any meat he had eaten before, with a lingering aftertaste that hinted at something beyond the ordinary.

    This was the Netherworld. It wasn¡¯t hard to guess what he was eating. A demonic beast, most likely.

    Arayn didn¡¯t pause. He didn¡¯t care. Hunger was hunger. He ate without hesitation, chewing through each bite with the same discipline he applied to his training. The body needed fuel. That was all that mattered.

    Once finished, he left the house, stepping back into the eerie stillness of the hill. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his fingers, and focused his mind. There was no time to waste. Training awaited.

    He grasped the stick firmly and took a slow breath. He had already touched the essence of demonic energy¡ªwild, destructive, hungry. He had already reshaped it into darkness mana¡ªcold, creeping, decaying. Now, he needed to manifest them together.

    One hand tightened around the stick. The other hovered just above it, fingers slightly curled as he focused.

    First, he called upon demonic energy. It surged forth without resistance, eager to be used. A deep crimson glow wrapped around the wood.

    Next, he willed darkness mana to surface. Unlike the wild flare of demonic energy, it crept in like a tide. A deep black mana wove itself around the red glow, both energies existing at once, neither overtaking the other.

    It was done.

    The stick trembled in his grasp, wrapped in the clash of red and black, destruction and decay. He had succeeded.

    Arayn stood still, the stick gripped tight in his hands. Red and black¡ªdestruction and decay¡ªcoexisting but not yet one. This was the final step. He had to merge them.

    He exhaled slowly.

    Demonic energy burned like a raging inferno. Darkness mana slithered through it. He tried to force them together, commanding them to fuse.

    They rejected each other.

    The moment they merged, the energies clashed, breaking apart in violent bursts. The mana dispersed into the air.

    Again.

    He gathered the energies. Balanced them. Pushed them together.

    Failure.

    Again.

    The energies flared, collided, shattered. His grip tightened, his knuckles turning white. His body ached, his mind screamed for rest, but he ignored it. There was no stopping.

    Time blurred.

    He trained through exhaustion and hunger. He repeated the process over and over, shaping the mana, forcing them to bend, trying, failing, trying again.

    Two days passed.

    And then¡ª

    It happened.

    The red and black did not clash. They intertwined. Two forces, opposite yet aligned, became one.

    He had done it.

    [You have achieved 100% mastery of Conquest Sword Art: First Form - Impose. Your strength, dexterity, constitution, intelligence, and wisdom have increased by two!]

    [Name: Arayn Azael

    Class: Demon Hunter

    Level: 21

    Patron: 1. Tyras. 2. Loxyr

    Origin: Learning

    Strength: 60

    Dexterity: 72

    Constitution: 82

    Intelligence: 86

    Wisdom: 52

    Charisma: 62]

    [Name: Conquest Sword Art: First Form ¨C Impose

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: A+

    Description: A sword technique that merges demonic energy and darkness mana to create an attack that bypasses all defenses and delivers pure damage.]

 Chapter 52: The Winner

    Valen drove his foot into Eryndor¡¯s stomach, sending him hurtling through the air. He crashed through several houses before finally skidding to a stop.

    Aveline lunged at Valen, her axe slicing through the air. Valen didn¡¯t back down. He met her head-on, his spear flashing as they clashed. Sparks flew, weapons locking in a brutal contest of strength¡ªuntil Valen wrenched her axe from her grip. Before she could react, his spear found its mark, piercing her stomach. Aveline staggered back, her hands already moving, golden light sealing the wound in seconds.

    Valen raised a finger and intoned, "[Holy Torrent]! [Well of Darkness]!"

    A beam of energy shot from his fingertip, wrapped in a swirling mass of black mist. It slammed into the barrier protecting her from magic projectiles, but Valen had expected that. He didn¡¯t aim to break through¡ªhe aimed to overwhelm. He wanted to show that he was different from people of their ages.

    The dark mist devoured the barrier, twisting around it like living shadows. Then, the beam punched through.

    Aveline barely had time to react before it struck her stomach. She hit the ground hard, blood spilling from her lips as she struggled to breathe.

    Aveline tried to heal, but nothing happened. Her magic flickered, useless against the wound carved into her flesh.

    Valen chuckled, amused by her struggle. "The [Well of Darkness] cancels holy power for a limited time," he explained. "You can dispel it¡ªbut it''ll cost you a third of your mana."

    Aveline didn¡¯t hesitate. Mana surged from her core, forcing away the dark mist coiling around her. The black aura shattered, vanishing like smoke in the wind. She pressed a hand to her wound, and golden light mended the injury. When she stood, her breath was heavy, her body strained¡ªbut her resolve hadn¡¯t wavered.

    Valen watched her, admiration flickering in his gaze. Strength. Honor. Beauty. A rare combination. He smiled. "Become my concubine." His voice carried no mockery, only desire. "Your beauty and honor move me. I want you to be mine."

    Aveline narrowed her eyes. "Are you out of your mind?"

    Valen let out a low chuckle. "I used to plot and scheme, building my power in the shadows. But now?" He gestured at the battlefield around them, at the destruction left. "Now that I hold absolute power, I¡¯ll take whatever I want." His gaze met hers, unwavering. "If you agree, I¡¯ll treat you well."

    Aveline scoffed. "I¡¯d rather die."

    "Then allow me to join you."

    Eryndor stepped beside her, bloodied but unbowed. "Your resolve moves me, Aveline. If you choose death, I¡¯ll stand with you."

    Together, they raised their weapons.

    Valen sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Very well," he said, voice calm, almost bored. Then, his eyes darkened.

    "Die."

    Valen gripped his spear, mana swirling around him like a raging storm. Power surged through the weapon.

    Aveline raised her axe, golden light radiating from its edge. Beside her, Eryndor¡¯s sword pulsed with a deep blue glow, the mana in it roaring to life.

    Valen smirked. ¡°[Abyssal Lance].¡±

    Aveline¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°[Heaven¡¯s Gale]!¡±

    Eryndor followed. ¡°[Azure Requiem]!¡±

    With a flick of his wrist, Valen hurled his spear. It shot forward, transforming into a blinding beam of destruction. Aveline swung her axe, unleashing a massive golden arc. Eryndor followed, his blade carving through the air, sending a colossal blue crescent to meet Valen¡¯s attack. The forces collided with a deafening roar, the air trembling under the impact.

    For a moment, their combined might held against the abyssal spear. But only for a moment.

    Valen¡¯s attack surged forward, tearing through their defenses and racing toward them with unstoppable force.

    Then¡ª

    A figure descended from the sky.

    Clad in noble armor, the man landed between them. As the spear¡¯s beam bore down, he raised his hand. No shield, no weapon¡ªjust his bare palm.

    The impact shook the ground, a shockwave blasting outward. However, the man stood firm. With a swift motion, he redirected the beam, sending it veering off course, carving a deep trench into the land beyond.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Aveline¡¯s breath caught in her throat. She recognized that towering frame, the broad shoulders clad in noble armor. The man who had just diverted Valen¡¯s attack with nothing but his hand.

    She whispered, ¡°Father?¡±

    Garrick Stormrend turned to her, a scolding expression on his face. ¡°Aveline,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯ve wandered into dangerous territory. I¡¯ve come to take you home.¡±

    Aveline sighed in relief. However, the weight of everything crashed down on her. The deaths of her comrades. The death of townsfolk. Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees, tears spilling freely.

    ¡°Father¡­ I¡¯ve led thousands to their deaths.¡± Her voice trembled. ¡°I have to take responsibility.¡±

    Garrick stepped closer, his voice firm yet gentle. ¡°And you will, but you must be alive to do so. Now, come. We¡¯re leaving.¡±

    Valen¡¯s eye twitched. Leaving? Just like that? Did they think they could walk away from his holy ritual? His fingers curled into a fist, frustration boiling over.

    He gritted his teeth. ¡°Darius,¡± he muttered under his breath, ¡°are you just going to watch as they come and go as they please?¡±

    The air buzzed. A faint noise at first, then a deafening swarm. Mosquitoes poured in from every direction, merging into a single figure¡ªDarius.

    The man smirked. ¡°You sure have no honor, Duke Stormrend, disturbing the fights of the younger generation.¡±

    Garrick scoffed. ¡°Spare me the slander. I¡¯d respect the ritual if it were truly just, but you and I both know this so-called ¡®holy ritual¡¯ is a farce. A puppet show with strings pulled from the shadows. I wonder¡­¡± His gaze sharpened. ¡°Would your Sovereign be pleased to hear how you''ve tainted it?¡±

    Darius chuckled. ¡°Ah¡­ you¡¯re not wrong, but the solution is simple, then.¡±

    The air turned heavy as Darius emitted his aura.

    ¡°I¡¯ll just erase the witnesses.¡±

    Garrick exhaled, unshaken. ¡°Can you defeat me?¡±

    Darius shrugged. ¡°Want to try?¡±

    The sky darkened. Shadows stretched over the ruin as dozens of colossal mosquitoes, each the size of a fortress, descended from above, their monstrous wings stirring the air.

    Garrick remained still. Then, he raised a hand. Golden light erupted, and an enormous battle axe materialized in his grasp, its edge gleaming with divine power.

    Tension crackled between them, a moment stretched thin, ready to snap. Then, they heard a cough. Not a loud one, not forceful, but dry and weak. It slipped through the heavy silence, threading its way past the tension.

    Garrick¡¯s grip on his axe loosened ever so slightly. Darius¡¯s amused smirk wavered. Even Valen, seething as he was, felt the urge to turn his head. Their gazes shifted.

    An old man approached, his long silver hair draping over his shoulders, his robes trailing along the ground. He walked slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. His face, lined with age, held an expression neither threatening nor meek¡ªjust calm. He smiled.

    ¡°Can we negotiate?¡±

    Garrick''s grip on his axe remained firm as his eyes narrowed. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The old man bowed slightly. ¡°It is an honor, Lord Vex,¡± he greeted, his voice even, respectful.

    Darius cocked his head, studying him for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. ¡°So, it''s you, the sect leader of the Crimson Moon Sect,¡± he said. "Why have you come here?¡±

    The old man kept his bow a moment longer before straightening. ¡°I come humbly, not to interfere, but to offer a solution. I ask permission to speak.¡±

    Darius waved a hand lazily. ¡°Go on.¡±

    With a composed nod, the old man continued, ¡°I propose that both Aveline and Eryndor be allowed to leave with their lives. In return, Lord Valen shall be declared the winner of this ritual.¡±

    Eryndor, who could no longer see, felt a deep warmth in his chest at those words. Even in darkness, he could recognize kindness when he heard it.

    Darius, however, burst into laughter. ¡°A winner who doesn¡¯t kill his opponent? Ridiculous! The rules demand only one survivor.¡±

    The old man remained unfazed. ¡°I am not asking you to break the rules, Lord Vex. The Sovereign¡¯s attention is elsewhere, is it not? That is why you currently hold full authority over this ritual. Simply declare Eryndor as dead. The Sovereign will not question it¡ªafter all, the Heavenly Demon class has successfully awakened.¡±

    Darius stroked his chin, then chuckled. ¡°You always had a way with words, Craig Rothshade. But tell me¡ªwhat¡¯s in it for me?¡±

    The old man turned his gaze to Valen and lowered his head in another bow. ¡°My Lord Valen, the Third Heavenly Demon,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°This offer is not for Lord Vex, but for you. If you spare Eryndor, I shall ensure he becomes your loyal servant.¡±

    Valen raised an eyebrow.

    The old man continued, ¡°Eryndor possesses great potential. With your guidance, he will grow into a formidable retainer. You would gain not just a strong warrior, but a loyal asset.¡±

    Darius smirked, thoroughly entertained. ¡°Very well. Speak to Valen yourself.¡±

    Valen considered the offer, his eyes lingering on the blinded warrior. ¡°Eryndor, if I allow you to live, will you swear loyalty to me?¡±

    The old man¡¯s voice turned toward Eryndor now. ¡°This ritual no longer holds meaning.¡±

    Eryndor let out a weary sigh. ¡°My origin is Assertion,¡± he admitted. ¡°I cannot bow to another. However¡­¡± He hesitated before continuing, ¡°I find strength admirable. I always hold the desire to assert myself upon a strong individual. If it is someone like you, Valen, then being by your side is something I wouldn¡¯t reject. I would listen to your commands as long as it doesn''t break my rules, but I do not bow to you. I will use every chance to assert myself in your heart.¡±

    Valen¡¯s lips curled into a grin. ¡°Interesting,¡± he mused. ¡°Then, you can try. I will absolutely tame you.¡± His gaze flicked to Darius, giving a single nod.

    Darius exhaled through his nose, then shrugged. ¡°Fine. I declare Eryndor dead. You may leave.¡± His smirk returned. ¡°But tell me, Craig, why should I extend the same courtesy to those from the Orthodox Faction?¡±

    The old man¡¯s smile remained, unshaken. ¡°I do not doubt your strength, Lord Vex. However, even if you defeat Duke Stormrend, he will escape alive. And once he does, word of this ritual will reach the Sovereign.¡±

    Darius narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting I let them go to seal their mouths?"

    Craig bowed slightly, his voice calm and polite. "Yes, Lord Vex. That is my humble suggestion."

    Darius turned his gaze to Garrick. "And you? Will you keep your mouth shut?"

    Garrick met his eyes without hesitation. "On the honor of the Stormrend Family, I will not disclose your manipulation in this ritual."

    Darius tapped his fingers against his arm, deep in thought. Silence stretched between them. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he spoke. "You can go."

    Without another word, Garrick stepped forward, lifting Aveline into his arms. He turned, wings of golden mana flaring to life behind him, and soared into the sky.

    Darius watched them disappear, then turned to Valen with a smirk. "Congratulations," he said. "You win this game."

 Chapter 53: Short Achievement

    The scent of freshly cut wood mixed with the lingering traces of ash as the people of Duskwatch toiled under the midday sun. Hammers rang against nails, echoing through the half-rebuilt streets. Crimson Sun Cult members moved among the townsfolk, lifting beams into place, reinforcing crumbling walls, and hauling debris from the ruins.

    A child ran past, laughing as he chased a rolling apple down the dirt road. Nearby, an elderly woman watched as young men and women worked together to rebuild her home. The rhythmic creak of pulleys hoisting stone and the murmur of effort replaced the screams and chaos of days past. Duskwatch was healing.

    Inside the manor of Valtheran''s family, Valen, Kaelion, and Vareth gathered around a sturdy table, their glasses filled with fine wine.

    Valen raised his glass, his gaze shifting between the two men who had stood by him through it all. "To you both," he said. "Without you, I wouldn''t be standing here."

    Vareth only offered a small smile, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip. Kaelion, however, lowered his drink, his usual aloofness giving way to something more sincere.

    "I supported you because you''ll be a great leader," Kaelion said. "I just wanted to leave my mark¡ªto be the first to stand by you."

    Valen exhaled, the weight of Kaelion''s words settling over him. He knew the cost of Kaelion¡¯s sacrifice. He had used a forbidden technique of the doppelgangers to split his soul into one hundred pieces to create his other original selves. The technique had stolen his chance to reach the expert class. It also had stolen years from his life.

    "You won¡¯t live long," Valen admitted. "But you will always be my closest friend. Your family¡ªI''ll make sure they are treated as my own."

    Kaelion smiled, lifting his glass. "I don¡¯t doubt that."

    The three drank. Outside, Duskwatch rose from its ashes. Inside, bonds were forged over wine.

    Duskwatch Town breathed again. The marketplace bustled with chatter, merchants hawking fresh produce and cloth as if disaster had never touched the town. Children weaved between carts, their laughter mingling with the clatter of hooves on stone. The townsfolk, unaware of the true cause of the destruction, saw only salvation in the Crimson Sun Cult. Their banners fluttered proudly above repaired buildings, their robed figures moving through the streets like guardians rather than warriors.

    At the town square, the stage stood tall before the town hall. Rows of chairs lined the space before it, reserved for the highest-ranking cult members. The townsfolk, gathered in droves, filled every open space around the stage, murmuring in anticipation.

    A hush fell as the cult¡¯s dancers took their places. The first drumbeat struck, a deep, resonant sound that stilled the crowd. Then came the flutes¡ªhigh, winding notes that lured the mind into reverence. The dancers moved in unison, their crimson robes swirling as they danced. The people below watched in awe. Yesterday¡¯s destruction faded from their minds. Today, there was only a celebration.

    As the last dancer stepped back, the crowd erupted in cheers. The High Sovereign rose from his seat, and the applause faded. He lifted his hand and silence followed.

    Valen ascended the stage. He knelt before the High Sovereign.

    "Valen Valehn," the High Sovereign intoned, his voice carrying through the square. "Do you swear to uphold the doctrine of the Crimson Sun, to lead with wisdom, and to safeguard the faith?"

    "I swear," Valen answered without hesitation.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    "Do you vow to stand unwavering in the face of adversity, to bear the weight of this path without faltering?"

    "I vow it."

    "And do you accept this burden, knowing that the flames of the Crimson Sun will burn within you until your final breath?"

    Valen lifted his head, meeting the Sovereign¡¯s gaze. "I accept it."

    The High Sovereign gestured, and an attendant stepped forward, carrying an ornate bowl filled with deep red wine. With both hands, the Sovereign offered it to Valen.

    "Drink, and let the flame take root in you."

    Valen took the bowl and drank. The wine was thick. It burned as it went down, not with pain, but with a strange warmth that settled deep in his core.

    The High Sovereign turned to the gathered crowd, his voice ringing.

    "From this day forth, Valen Valehn is the successor of the Crimson Sun Cult!"

    The town square erupted. Applause thundered, voices rose in celebration, and the cult members bowed their heads in reverence. The sun blazed overhead, and for the people of Duskwatch, it was a new day.

    Below the stage, the crowd parted as a sedan chair, draped in crimson silk and adorned with golden embroidery, emerged from the street. The carriers bore their precious cargo onto the stage. The crowd fell into hushed anticipation.

    The sedan door opened, and Alice stepped out.

    She was wrapped in a red dress, the fabric flowing around her like liquid fire. Gold-threaded patterns shimmered across the gown, tracing delicate motifs of blooming roses and curling flames. The sleeves billowed slightly as she moved, revealing glimpses of porcelain-pale skin. A golden sash cinched the dress at her waist, accentuating her elegant frame.

    Her hite hair cascaded in soft waves, catching the sunlight like spun silver. Red eyes¡ªlike smoldering embers¡ªswept across the stage before settling on Valen.

    Valen opened his mouth. No words came. His breath caught in his throat, his mind blank.

    Alice moved toward him. The scent of something floral¡ªdelicate yet intoxicating¡ªlingered in the air between them. His pulse quickened, hammering in his chest like a war drum.

    "Valen."

    Her voice pulled him back from her charm he had fallen under. She tilted her head slightly.

    "Focus. This is our engagement procession," she said.

    His face burned red. He nodded stiffly, forcing his thoughts back into order.

    The High Sovereign stood before them, his expression indifferent as usual, even though she would lead his daughter''s engagement procession. "Valen Valehn, do you vow to stand beside Alice, to honor her as your betrothed, and to uphold your duty as her partner in all things?"

    "I vow it," Valen said.

    "Alice Azael, do you vow to stand beside Valen, to honor him as your betrothed, and to uphold your duty as his partner in all things?"

    Alice nodded slightly. "I vow it."

    An attendant stepped forward, carrying an ornate bowl of deep red wine. The High Sovereign took it and handed it to Alice.

    "Drink, and seal your union under the sun."

    Alice lifted the bowl to her lips, tilting it gracefully. The wine slid down her throat, leaving a faint flush on her pale skin. She lowered the bowl, her red eyes flickering toward Valen as she extended it to him.

    He took it, fingers brushing hers for the briefest moment. The bowl felt warm, as if carrying the heat of her touch. He drank and emptied the bowl.

    The Sovereign raised his hands. "From this moment forth, under the light of the sun, Valen Valehn and Alice Azael are bound in engagement!"

    The crowd erupted in cheers, but Valen barely heard them. His world had narrowed to the woman standing before him. She was finally his woman.

    ---

    Arayn stepped out of the wooden house perched on the red hill, the warped sky of the Netherworld stretching endlessly above him. A path wound down from the hill, leading into the region''s demonic forest filled with demonic beasts.

    Before he could take another step, a voice called from behind.

    "Where are you going?"

    He turned. Tyras stood at the threshold of the house, arms crossed.

    Arayn met his gaze. "I''ve learned the lay of the land. I¡¯m heading out to hunt demonic beasts."

    Tyras didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, he reached behind him and, with a flick of his wrist, tossed something toward Arayn.

    Instinct took over. Arayn¡¯s hand shot up, fingers curling around the hilt of a blade. The moment he grasped it, a chill ran up his arm, coiling into his chest like a whisper of something ancient. He turned the weapon over, inspecting it.

    His system responded.

    [Name: Sanguine

    Grade: Rare

    Effect: Devours the wielder¡¯s lifespan to heal wounds.]

    Arayn frowned. "This is¡­?"

    "For you," Tyras said. "It¡¯s strange for a swordsman to be without a sword."

    A smirk tugged at Arayn¡¯s lips. He gave the Tyras a slight nod. "Thanks."

    Tyras studied him for a moment before exhaling through his nose. "So this is your last day here, huh?"

    "Yeah. I¡¯ll be leaving this evening."

    Tyras rolled his shoulders, stepping forward. "Then prove your worth, my disciple. Kill the Heavenly Demon."

    Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, his grip tightened around the sword¡¯s hilt.

    His smirk widened. "Naturally. I always have the higher ground."

 Chapter 54: Increasing Lifespan

    Arayn ventured into the Abysswood, a forest steeped in legend and tainted by demonic energy. It stretched beyond the outskirts of Valak City, a place whispered in fearful tones. Deeper inside, the corruption twisted the land into something unnatural, a place where only the foolish or the powerful dared to tread. But the outskirts? That should be manageable. At least, for someone like him.

    Arayn had come to the Abysswood with a purpose to hunt demonic beasts and reclaim the years he had lost. The forest was dangerous, its twisted trees and shadowed paths teeming with creatures tainted by dark and demonic energy. However, danger meant nothing to him. Not now. Not after acquiring [Soulsteal]. With every beast he felled, he could take back what had been stripped from him. Time. Life. He would drain as much as he could until his time in Netherworld was up.

    The trees rustled. Sharp screeches echoed through the Abysswood as demonic beasts emerged from the shadows¡ªmonkeys with leathery bat wings, their glowing yellow eyes fixed on him. They hovered above the twisted branches, their claws twitching, drools dripping out of their mouths.

    Arayn remained still. Unbothered. This was expected. More than that, he welcomed them. He had come to test his power, and now was the perfect chance.

    He exhaled, then muttered, "[Conquest Demon Form]."

    Red energy surged through his body. His flesh hardened, shifting into black metallic armor, red patterns glowing beneath the surface. His hands flexed, claws forming at his fingertips. Power coursed through him.

    [Name: Conquest Demon''s Form

    Grade: Rare

    Rank: B

    Description: This ability allows the user to transform into a powerful Conquest Demon, greatly enhancing their strength, speed, and durability. The user can still use Dark Pact II.]

    The beasts hesitated now. Their screeches faltered.

    A thunderous roar tore through the forest. The smaller beasts flinched, then steadied, their fear melting away. From the shadows, a larger monkey emerged. Its wings tattered but strong, its fangs bared in challenge. Its eyes burned with intense hunger beyond reasoning.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze locked onto it. A mother-class beast. That explained their hesitation before. They had been waiting for her.

    Arayn chuckled. "Good," he shouted, his voice carrying through the trees. "If you''re afraid, I can''t have fun." He spread his clawed hands, his stance shifting, ready. "Come at me."

    The mother shrieked, and the horde answered. The hunt had truly begun.

    The swarm of winged monkeys screeched and lunged. Hundreds of them, a wave of claws and fangs, pounced on Arayn at once. Their bodies struck his, but passed straight through. Then, he exploded.

    A shockwave ripped through the air, red energy bursting outward. Several monkeys shrieked as they were flung back, their bodies torn and bleeding. The dust settled, revealing empty space where Arayn had stood.

    Above them, perched on a thick branch, the real Arayn drove his sword through a monkey¡¯s chest. The creature twitched, its life draining away.

    [Your lifespan has increased by one day.]

    A small gain. Too small. He gazed down at the chaos below, watching the wounded beasts struggle back to their feet. He muttered to himself, "The destructive aura from my footwork isn''t enough to kill them. Expert-class demonic beasts don¡¯t die that easily."

    This would take more effort. Good. He preferred it that way.

    The mother monkey roared and shot toward him, its massive fist crackling with lightning. Faster than the others. Stronger. It closed the distance in a blink and swung. The punch connected, but passed straight through.

    Another explosion erupted. Red energy burst outward, sending smaller monkeys tumbling through the air. Then, Arayn was above her. His sword flashed, carving a deep gash across her chest.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    The beast screeched and was flung back, crashing into a distant tree. Bark shattered on impact. She clutched her wound, breathing heavily, her yellow eyes burning with rage.

    Arayn landed lightly on a branch, watching. "Tough," he muttered. His fingers tightened around his sword. "I could¡¯ve killed it instantly with [Soul Rend]¡­ but I can¡¯t absorb its soul. I need to work harder."

    The mother monkey lifted a trembling arm and pointed at him, her screech splitting the air. The others responded in kind, their cries echoing through the Abysswood. Lightning crackled around their bodies. Sparks danced along their fists as they gathered power. Then, they charged.

    Arayn moved, but their numbers overwhelmed him. Dozens, then hundreds, swarmed him at once, fists crackling with energy as they rained down blow after blow. The force of their combined attack sent flashes of white-hot light cutting through the darkness, but their attacks passed through him. Every single one. Then, he exploded.

    A surge of red energy erupted outward, tearing through the swarm. Monkeys screamed as they were hurled back, crashing into the trees.

    In that instant, the real Arayn appeared right before the mother monkey. His blade struck her, a clean stab through the skull.

    The beast shuddered, her glowing eyes dimming. She swayed for a moment, then collapsed, lifeless, to the ground.

    The moment their mother hit the ground, the surviving monkeys erupted in fury. Their screeches filled the forest. Claws dug into bark. Wings flapped violently. Then, as one, they charged.

    Arayn didn¡¯t move. He simply raised his hand.

    Above him, dozens of [Cursed Fang] materialized, floating in the air. A heartbeat later, they shot forward, piercing through the horde.

    Boom.

    Explosions tore through the swarm. Screeches turned to dying wails. Smoke and dust filled the air.

    Then¡ª

    [Your lifespan has increased by one day.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by two days.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by one day.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by three days.]

    The notifications kept coming. Arayn lowered his hand, watching the bodies fall. It wasn¡¯t enough. Not yet, but he was getting there.

    Arayn scanned the surroundings. Smoke drifted through the air, the scent of burnt fur and blood mixing. The forest had gone eerily quiet, but he knew better. Something else was lurking. Then, he saw it.

    A humanoid crocodile stepped into view, its scaly hide glistening under the faint light. It gripped a spear carved from bone. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto him, filled with something more than instinct. Awareness. It was on the verge of evolving into a demon. It felt like eating Arayn would help it evolve into a demon.

    Arayn had no interest in fighting it. Not unless it gave him a reason. Then, it lunged.

    Fine.

    Arayn stood his ground. When the beast thrust its spear, a red barrier flared to life around him, absorbing the attack. A second later, the energy rebounded, slamming into the creature and sending it staggering back.

    Without missing a beat, Arayn raised a finger. A crimson beam shot forward, striking the beast¡¯s wrist. It howled, its grip loosening. The bone spear clattered to the ground.

    Arayn stepped forward. Dark energy coiled around his blade, writhing like living tendrils. He slashed.

    The creature froze. Then, it collapsed, dead before it could even process what had happened.

    Arayn exhaled, feeling the raw power coursing through his transformed body. [Conquest Demon Form] wasn¡¯t just for show; it elevated his abilities, refining his control over them.

    [Infernal Aegis] and [Inferno Torrent] surged, their ranks rising from D to C. He could sense the difference in the defense and attack.

    As for [Soul Rend]?

    B to B+. A slight improvement. Not much, but it was also good.

    Arayn flexed his fingers, the red glow of his demonic markings pulsing like molten veins beneath the black metallic surface of his form. This form''s power wasn''t limited to just that. He still had a card in his sleeve. For now, though, he didn''t need to use its true strength.

    Arayn pushed his thoughts aside. There was no point dwelling on limitations, only results mattered. He needed more souls. More lifespan.

    A pack or a herd would be ideal.

    He prowled the outskirts of the forest, cutting through any demonic beasts that crossed his path. Claws, fangs, venom¡ªnone of it mattered. Every kill added to his lifespan. The system''s notifications became background noise, blending with the sounds of battle.

    [Your lifespan has increased by one day.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by two days.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by one day.]

    [Your lifespan has increased by three days.]

    By the time evening fell, he stood atop a hill of corpses. The scent of blood hung thick in the air. Arayn paid it no mind. He gazed upward, past the canopy, where the red sky of the netherworld stretched endlessly.

    He muttered to himself, "The timezone here must match Varondale¡¯s."

    His gaze shifted. He pulled up his status and checked his lifespan.

    [Lifespan: Five years, six months, twenty days]

    Good.

    He stepped forward and leapt off the mound of bodies. The moment his feet touched the ground, a magic circle ignited beneath him, its glow pulsing with demonic energy. His body began to fade, dissolving into the air.

    "It¡¯s time," he said.

    Then, he vanished.

    His hunt for the Heavenly Demon had begun.

 Chapter 55: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Part 1

    Alice poured the tea with steady hands, the porcelain teapot tilting just enough to let the amber liquid flow into Valen¡¯s cup. He lifted it with grace, taking a slow sip before offering her a small smile.

    "Delicious," he said.

    Alice remained indifferent. Her gaze lingered on the rippling surface of her own tea before she gave him a polite nod. "Thank you."

    Valen studied her face, admiring the dignified beauty she carried so effortlessly, but there was sadness there, woven into the softness of her features, shadowing her red eyes. He knew why.

    "You might hate me for it," he murmured, setting his cup down. "For killing your brother, but I did it to survive."

    Alice looked up, meeting his gaze. Her expression didn''t change, but after a moment, she offered him a gentle smile. "I don''t blame you."

    Something about the way she said it made Valen move. He leaned forward, fingers finding the curve of her chin, tilting her face toward his. He was close¡ªclose enough to catch the faint scent of lavender on her skin, close enough that he could claim her lips if he wanted, but Alice turned away.

    The rejection was small, subtle, yet it stung. She was his fianc¨¦e. Why couldn¡¯t they share this intimacy? He swallowed the emotion that threatened to rise and masked it behind a composed expression.

    "Why?" he asked.

    Alice stood, smoothing the fabric of her dress before bowing her head slightly. "We cannot," she said. "Not until I reach Master Class."

    Valen¡¯s brows drew together. "Master Class?"

    She straightened, her fingers curling at her sides. "My class is the Dark Saintess. My patron is Umbra, the Goddess of Darkness. She has granted me a power seed¡ªone that grows within me. To let it mature, my body must remain pure until I reach Master Class."

    Her words settled between them like a heavy weight. Valen exhaled, leaning back in his chair. He had not expected this. And yet, as he looked at Alice, he realized something¡ªshe was determined. Resolute. And no matter what he felt in this moment, no matter the frustration simmering beneath his skin, he would have to wait.

    Umbra was one of the nine gods overseeing this world, each selecting only a single messenger every century. Aveline, the Storm Saintess, was the chosen of the Skyfather. Valen had never expected to encounter another messenger¡ªlet alone for that person to be his fianc¨¦e.

    His frown deepened. "The Crimson Sun Cult worships the Heavenly Demon. To devote yourself to another god¡ªdon¡¯t you think that¡¯s blasphemy?"

    Alice remained still, her head bowed. "I couldn''t refuse Umbra," she said quietly. "Besides, the Second Heavenly Demon whispered to my father himself. He said it was fine for me to be here."

    At those words, Valen fell silent. The mention of the Second Heavenly Demon had stolen whatever argument he might have had. His jaw tightened, but his frustration slowly ebbed away.

    "Fine," he said at last. A slow exhale left his lips before his voice softened. "Besides, it would be strange if my own partner worshiped me as a god. My partner should be my equal. And Alice¡ª" He met her gaze, unwavering. "You have the potential to be worthy. I will wait until you reach Master Class, my dear fianc¨¦e."

    Alice bowed lower, her face hidden beneath the fall of her hair. Her fingers curled at her sides before she bit down on her lower lip, her shoulders stiff.

    Valen rose from his seat. His gaze lingered on Alice for a moment before he turned toward the balcony¡¯s edge, looking out over the town below. The streets were calm, the townsfolk moving about in their evening routines.

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    "Come," he said. "Follow me."

    Alice lifted her head, her lips parting slightly, but she said nothing. She simply stood, smoothing her dress before stepping beside him.

    "I want to be a just god to my followers," Valen continued. "The people here already think well of us. That¡¯s a foundation we can build on." He turned to her, eyes sharp with purpose. "If we show them kindness, we can turn their goodwill into devotion. I will convert them¡ªnot with fear, but with their own gratitude."

    To Valen, power was not just about might, it was about influence, about weaving loyalty into something unshakable. He did not want blind worship. He wanted willing followers.

    Alice studied him for a moment, then gave a slow nod. "As you wish."

    Valen and Alice stepped out onto the quiet streets, the evening air cool against their skin. Waiting for them was Kaelion¡ªand his clones, each identical to the original, standing in perfect formation. One of them stepped forward and bowed slightly.

    "Master, I have brought the goods to be distributed to the townsfolk."

    Valen glanced at the crates stacked neatly beside them, filled with food, blankets, and other necessities. He nodded, satisfied. "Well done, Kaelion. Your hard work is appreciated." His gaze swept over the group before he continued, "Help me distribute these to the people. We¡¯ll make sure everyone gets what they need."

    Kaelion and his clones moved to lift the crates, preparing to set off. Before they could take a step, Alice¡¯s voice cut through the moment.

    "Can we distribute the supplies in front of Arayn¡¯s tomb?"

    Valen turned to her. He considered her request for a brief moment before giving a slight nod. "I don¡¯t mind."

    With that, the group set off, making their way through the town¡¯s streets.

    They arrived at Arayn''s tomb, a solemn structure standing alone in a spot that was formerly a tavern. The building had only one entrance, its stone frame sturdy. Alice had built it herself, every brick and carving placed by her own hands.

    Kaelion¡¯s clones moved swiftly, setting up a wooden table just before the entrance. One of them turned to Valen and gestured toward the chair placed behind it. "Master, please sit."

    Valen took his seat, resting his arm on the table as he observed the scene unfolding before him. The townsfolk gathered in a loose crowd. One by one, they stepped forward, their eyes flickering between the supplies and the man they had come to see.

    The first was an elderly woman, her hands trembling as she lowered herself to her knees. She pressed her forehead to the ground. "May the great Heavenly Demon bless us."

    Valen smirked, watching as she slowly stood and accepted a bundle of food with a grateful nod.

    Then came a young man, his movements stiff with hesitation. He glanced at Valen, then at the others, before kneeling down and bowing his head. "We thank the benevolent Heavenly Demon," he murmured.

    One after another, they knelt. A mother holding her child. A weary farmer with dirt still on his hands. A merchant whose gaze flickered with something closer to calculation than devotion. However, they all did the same; they worshipped before they took supplies.

    Valen watched them with amusement, the corners of his lips curling upward. The sight of them bowing, speaking his title with reverence, sent a pleasant warmth through his chest. This was power, the kind that didn¡¯t require bloodshed. The kind that made people willingly lower themselves before him. As the line of worshippers continued, his pride only grew.

    ---

    Inside the tomb, the air carried an aura of lingering magic. The room was bare¡ªno offerings, no decorations, nothing but a single throne resting at the heart of a magic circle carved into the floor. Arayn¡¯s corpse sat upon it, motionless, his lifeless body nothing more than a husk. Then, the flames erupted from his corpse.

    Fire consumed the body in an instant. Flesh and bone disintegrated, replaced by something far more terrifying. A figure took shape within the inferno, metal plating forming over a body carved with glowing red patterns. The throne groaned under his weight as he leaned forward, the flames dying down to reveal his new form. He was none other than Arayn in his Conquest Demon form.

    He exhaled, feeling the energy of the mortal realm coursing through his veins. He had done it. He had returned.

    Six days ago, he had prepared for this moment. The magic circle beneath the throne had served two purposes. First, to summon an expert-class demon that would claim his soul upon death. The second? To summon himself back into the mortal world at the right time. A ritual like this required a powerful catalyst, and there was none better than his own corpse. His body had been the key to his return.

    This had always been the plan. Arayn, Alice, and Darius had orchestrated every step, shaping the future with precision. He never intended to become the Heavenly Demon. No, he had let another claim that title, setting the stage for his true goal¡ªto slay the Heavenly Demon himself. When the throne was left vacant, Alice would rise as the rightful successor of the Crimson Sun Cult.

    Now, he was here, and so was Valen.

    Arayn tilted his head, sensing the presence outside. His lips curled into a grin, his laughter echoing through the empty tomb.

    "Good job, Alice," he murmured. "I don¡¯t even have to look for him."

 Chapter 56: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Part 2

    As the last of the townsfolk took their supplies and stepped away, the charity event came to an end. The gathered people murmured among themselves, casting glances at Valen¡ªsome filled with awe, others with gratitude, and a few with barely concealed fear.

    Valen rose from his seat, stretching slightly before brushing the dust off his coat. He glanced at the dispersing crowd and smirked. "That was a nice experience," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "They¡¯re lucky I was here in person. Next time, they won¡¯t be so fortunate."

    Kaelion stepped forward, one of his clones bowing slightly. "Your name will be known as a benevolent demon, Master."

    Valen chuckled, pleased with the thought. He crossed his arms, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "The Sovereign will continue to manage the cult for now. It¡¯s not time for me to step into that world just yet. I need to build my reputation, little by little, and grow stronger." His fingers tapped lightly against his arm, his mind already calculating the steps ahead. "It¡¯s only a matter of time before I reach the Sovereign¡¯s level. It might take a century¡­ but I¡¯ll get there."

    A sudden, suffocating pressure filled the air. Valen''s body tensed as the overwhelming presence rolled out from the tomb like a storm. The townsfolk, still lingering nearby, felt it too¡ªthey staggered back, eyes wide with fear.

    Valen and Kaelion turned toward the entrance just as a figure emerged from the darkness. A metallic demon with red patterns glowing across his body stepped out.

    Both Valen and Kaelion frowned, instincts flaring in warning. Before either could react, something even more shocking happened.

    Alice, standing beside Kaelion¡¯s clone, placed a hand on its shoulder. A dark flame erupted from her palm, consuming the clone in an instant. It didn¡¯t even have time to resist¡ªits body crumbled into nothingness.

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°What are you doing?¡± he demanded, his voice sharp.

    Alice said nothing.

    Before he could press further, the metallic demon moved in a flash.

    Pain.

    Valen coughed as a sword plunged into his chest. Blood spilled from his lips. His body screamed at him to react. He forced himself to move¡ªmuscles coiling, instincts taking over.

    With a desperate burst of strength, he kicked off the ground, tearing himself away from the blade before it could pierce deeper. He landed several feet away, clutching his wound, and golden light flared around him as he poured healing magic into his body. The pain dulled, but the shock remained.

    His gaze locked onto the attacker. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    The metallic demon¡¯s form blurred, shifting as the red patterns dimmed. Flesh replaced metal, and his face became clear.

    A familiar face.

    The man smirked, rolling his shoulders as if testing his body. ¡°Your reaction is fast,¡± he said. ¡°As expected of a Heavenly Demon. You managed to shift your body just enough to avoid a fatal strike.¡± His gaze sharpened. ¡°I commend that.¡±

    Valen¡¯s breath hitched.

    Kaelion took a step forward.

    Both of them spoke at once.

    ¡°¡­Arayn?¡±

    Arayn smirked, tilting his head slightly. ¡°Surprise.¡±

    Valen¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°You fool,¡± he spat. ¡°If you were alive, you should have reported it to the cult. The ritual succeeded¡ªyou would have been accepted. There¡¯s no need to fight.¡± He exhaled sharply, suppressing his growing irritation. ¡°I will give you a chance. If you bend your knees and swear allegiance, I will pardon this offense.¡±

    Laughter rang through the air. Low at first, then growing louder, filled with genuine amusement. Arayn shook his head, his smirk widening.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to leave the cult,¡± he said. ¡°I just needed the right opportunity.¡± His crimson eyes gleamed with certainty. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±

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    Valen¡¯s fingers curled into fists. ¡°Are you so adamant about getting revenge?¡±

    Arayn¡¯s laughter died down. He met Valen¡¯s gaze, unwavering. ¡°Don¡¯t misunderstand,¡± he said coolly. ¡°This isn¡¯t about revenge. I just think slaying the Heavenly Demon is a worthy achievement.¡±

    Valen¡¯s expression turned cold. ¡°Then I will make you regret that decision.¡±

    Valen¡¯s gaze flickered to Kaelion. No words were needed. Kaelion gave a slight nod, and in the next instant, he and his clones retreated. They were about to report this betrayal to the cult.

    Alice was faster to react. With a wave of her hand, spheres of black flame shot forward, twisting through the air like living entities. They locked onto Kaelion and his clones, pursuing them relentlessly.

    Arayn vanished. A blur of movement, an afterimage left in his place. Before one of the clones could react, a blade pierced through its back. The illusion shattered, revealing Arayn, his body materializing from nothing. He leaped into the air, high above the battlefield.

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened. He had thought Arayn was still before him.

    Arayn¡¯s voice rang out in an ancient demon tongue. Crimson energy surged around him, then condensed into dozens of red fangs that tore through the air, seeking Kaelion. Each one exploded upon impact, sending shockwaves through the narrow streets.

    The last Kaelion clone darted into an alleyway, slipping into the shadows. Arayn¡¯s gaze locked onto him. A red beam erupted from his palm, intensifying with demonic energy, closing in for the kill.

    Valen reacted instantly. A radiant beam of holy light shot forth, intercepting Arayn¡¯s attack. The two forces clashed in midair, the impact shaking the ground beneath them.

    Alice was already moving. From her outstretched fingers, a dark flame arrow tore through the air. It struck the last Kaelion, consuming him in an instant. His body disintegrated, vanishing into the void.

    Valen stretched his hand forward as if trying to grasp something just beyond his reach. His voice trembled.

    ¡°No¡­ no¡­¡±

    His expression darkened, his eyes clouded with grief. The weight of loss pressed against his chest, suffocating.

    Memories surged forth. Kaelion, his most trusted right hand, the one who had followed him through countless adversaries. Before that¡­ before loyalty, there had been something else.

    ---

    Years ago, he had faced Kaelion in battle, but not as an ally. Kaelion had been a doppelganger¡ªa demon that stole bodies. Valen had uncovered the truth. The Kaelion standing before him had murdered and replaced the original, taking over his life, his identity.

    Valen had defeated him, forcing him to his knees.

    Bloodied and trembling, the doppelganger looked up with pleading eyes.

    ¡°Spare me.¡±

    Valen stood over him, spear in hand. ¡°Have all the people in this mansion been replaced?¡±

    Kaelion hesitated. ¡°No¡­¡±

    Valen had seen through the lie. He pressed the tip of his spear against Kaelion¡¯s throat. ¡°If you don¡¯t tell the truth, I¡¯ll execute everyone in this mansion. Every single one.¡±

    A flicker of fear crossed Kaelion¡¯s face before he finally bowed his head. ¡°Yes¡­ they have.¡±

    He expected death. Expected his end at the hands of him. Instead, Valen lowered his spear and held out his hand.

    Kaelion stared at it, bewildered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the original Kaelion,¡± Valen said. ¡°I don¡¯t care about him. But if you swear loyalty to me, I will pardon you. I will even help your family prosper.¡±

    Kaelion¡¯s lips trembled. He hesitated for only a moment before lowering himself to the ground.

    ¡°¡­I swear.¡±

    At first, their relationship had been nothing more than an arrangement¡ªpractical, convenient, and superficial. Kaelion had sworn loyalty out of necessity, not devotion. Valen had accepted him, but not as a true retainer¡ªmerely a tool, useful and nothing more. Yet, time had a way of shaping bonds in ways neither had expected.

    Kaelion proved himself time and time again, not only in battle but in his presence. He always accompanied Valen everywhere. He did not just follow orders; he anticipated them. He did not just serve; he adapted, learned, and grew beside Valen. What had once been forced obedience turned into something real.

    Valen, too, changed.

    At first, he had kept Kaelion at arm¡¯s length, wary of betrayal. However, Kaelion never faltered. He did not seek power for himself, did not scheme in the shadows. He was simply there as a loyal retainer. Slowly, that loyalty became something Valen trusted, and in turn, he gave his own.

    Kaelion was no longer just a retainer.

    He was family. And now, that family was gone.

    ---

    Valen clenched his jaw, his body trembling with the weight of the loss. His eyes burned with something beyond rage, beyond sorrow.

    Alice and Arayn had taken Kaelion from him. They would pay for it.

    He lowered his arm and turned to face Arayn. ¡°¡­You¡¯ll regret this.¡±

    Arayn paid no mind to Valen¡¯s grief, his crimson eyes shifting instead to Alice. She met his gaze with a knowing smile.

    "Welcome back," she said softly.

    Arayn studied her for a moment, taking in the power radiating from her. He smirked. "Look at you. You¡¯ve reached expert class. As expected of a Dark Saintess."

    Alice chuckled, though there was something wistful in her eyes. "There are still so many things I want to say, but it seems we don¡¯t have the time for that now."

    Arayn exhaled through his mouth. "Yeah. You can go. Let me handle this."

    She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Thanks, Arayn... for coming back."

    His only response was a slight smile and a lazy wave of his hand, dismissing her.

    She turned away but paused just before leaving, throwing one last glance over her shoulder. "Don¡¯t you dare go before meeting me. I have a lot to say."

    This time, Arayn didn¡¯t reply. He couldn''t make that promise. His grip tightened around his sword, the crimson glow along its edge pulsing like a heartbeat. Then, without another word, he took a step forward, his gaze locking onto Valen.

 Chapter 57: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Party 3

    Arayn struck first, closing the distance between them in an instant. Valen moved to intercept, raising his spear to block the attack¡ªbut his weapon sliced through empty air. Suddenly, a sharp sting bloomed across his neck. Blood trickled down his skin.

    Without hesitation, he sprang back, golden light flaring from his fingertips as he sealed the wound with magic.

    Arayn materialized a few steps away, his gaze locking onto Valen''s.

    The Heavenly Demon class really did have sharp reflexes. Valen had avoided a fatal strike just in time, turning what should have been a killing blow into nothing more than a shallow cut.

    Valen, on the other hand, clenched his jaw. Arayn¡¯s footwork was a problem. If he didn¡¯t find a way to counter it, he would be on the defensive the entire fight.

    Arayn unleashed a dozen [Cursed Fangs], the crimson projectiles streaking through the air toward Valen. Before they could reach him, a light buckler formed a short distance away, pulsing with radiant energy. The moment the cursed projectiles neared, they veered off course, drawn to the glowing shield like moths to a flame.

    A chain of explosions erupted as the [Cursed Fangs] detonated. Arayn surged forward, using the blasts as cover. However, Valen was already moving¡ªhe leaped back and swung his spear at empty air.

    A sharp clang rang out. Metal against metal.

    Then, out of thin air, Arayn appeared. Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed. So that¡¯s how his footwork worked. The first Arayn behind the second Arayn was nothing more than an afterimage. The footwork was cancelled after Arayn performed an attack.

    Without hesitation, he struck again, spear flashing toward Arayn, but Arayn parried the attack with ease. They clashed, their weapons colliding in rapid succession. Sparks flew.

    Valen''s frustration grew. Why couldn¡¯t he overpower Arayn? The Heavenly Demon class was supposed to be unmatched, yet he was barely holding his ground. No¡ªhe wasn¡¯t even winning. He was equal to Arayn.

    His focus wavered for a split second.

    That was all it took.

    His spear sliced through an afterimage, and in the next instant, the real Arayn struck from his blind spot. A searing pain ripped through his side as blood sprayed into the air.

    Arayn didn¡¯t stop. He readied his second strike, black tendrils crawling up his blade. As the sword came down, Valen roared and blocked with his spear, the force of the impact rattling through his arms.

    Gritting his teeth, he leaped back, his hands already weaving a spell. Magic words spilled from his lips. "Lux divina, sana corpus meum. Curatio sacra, plagae recedant!"

    Golden light surrounded him, healing the wound before it could drag him down.

    Arayn watched as Valen¡¯s wound sealed almost instantly, golden light knitting flesh back together as if the injury had never happened. He exhaled slowly. He had to admit¡ªValen was a formidable opponent.

    It wasn¡¯t just the Heavenly Demon class that made him dangerous. He could also chant in the magic language. That alone changed everything. The incantation he had spoken bore a striking resemblance to the ancient demon tongue. Those who could wield magic language weren¡¯t bound by the rigid structures of normal spells. They could twist and shape magic as they saw fit.

    Arayn tightened his grip on his sword. If he had to put a number on it, his chances of winning were no more than fifty percent. His speed was exceptional, thanks to his footwork. His strength matched Valen¡¯s, his class passive enhancing his power against demons and demonic classes. But defense? That was his biggest weakness.

    Defeating Valen would be an uphill battle. Yet, strangely, he felt no frustration. No fear. Instead, a thrill coursed through him.

    For the first time, he faced an opponent who could genuinely take his life. A real risk. A real stake. He couldn¡¯t wait to see how far he could push himself.

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    Valen¡¯s lips moved swiftly, chanting in the magic language once more. A tiny orb of light flickered into existence above him, pulsing with holy energy.

    Arayn¡¯s instincts flared. Valen was preparing something. Something dangerous.

    He wasted no time.

    [Calamity Step: First Form ¨C Destructive Mirage]

    The battlefield distorted as he moved. Afterimages trailed in his wake, each one bursting into violent explosions. Smoke and fire erupted, obscuring the air. However, the real Arayn had already vanished, his body melting into invisibility.

    Valen¡¯s gaze snapped to the side. He understood the secret of the footwork. Without a moment''s hesitation, he turned and ran.

    Arayn chased Valen. Through the dust and the lingering echoes of destruction, he closed the distance. It took time, but in the end, he caught up.

    Suddenly, Valen skidded to a stop and whirled around. Above him, the tiny orb pulsed once¡ªthen expanded. A blinding wave of light surged outward, washing over everything in its path. The moment it touched Arayn, his invisibility shattered like fragile glass. His form flickered back into view.

    Valen¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°There you are,¡± he muttered, eyes locking onto Arayn at last.

    Valen lunged and launched a barrage of strikes. Each thrust shattered stone, carving deep gouges into the road, ripping through walls as if they were parchment. Without the veil of invisibility, Arayn was fully exposed. He wove between the strikes, twisting, sidestepping, deflecting where he could¡ªbut Valen was relentless. A spear thrust shot forward, too fast, too precise.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes widened. No time.

    The tip streaked toward his skull. He threw himself backward, spine bending like a bowstring. The spearhead skimmed past, close enough for him to feel the cold bite of displaced air. He rolled midair, momentum carrying him into a tight flip before his boots struck the ground. Then, he was moving¡ªcharging¡ªclosing the gap.

    Their weapons met, sending sparks in the air. Each of Valen¡¯s blows slammed into him like a hammer, forcing him to brace with every block. The heavenly demon''s strength was overwhelming. If Arayn kept fighting like this, he¡¯d burn through his stamina before he could land a decisive strike. He needed an opening¡ªfast.

    He saw it.

    Valen retracted his spear, muscles coiling for another thrust. Arayn didn¡¯t wait. The instant the spear shot forward, he twisted his blade along its shaft, redirecting its path. With a burst of speed, he surged in, sword flashing as he carved a shallow gash across Valen¡¯s side. Not deep enough.

    Arayn clicked his tongue.

    He spun, aiming for Valen¡¯s back¡ªbut the man had already turned. The spear left his hands, a missile of pure force. Arayn barely raised his blade in time. The impact hit like a battering ram, knocking him off his feet and sending him hurtling backward.

    Valen exhaled sharply. "Aetherfang."

    The spear obeyed. It tore through the air, a streak of silver returning to his outstretched hand. Fingers closed around the familiar weight.

    His gaze flicked to Arayn. That swordplay¡ªflawless. Each movement was precise, each strike carrying intent. However, it wasn¡¯t just the skill that made him dangerous. His power, his raw strength¡ªit matched Valen¡¯s own. That was a problem. A Heavenly Demon should not be evenly matched on the same rank.

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed. That sword. It pulsed with dark power. A demonic artifact, no doubt. It must be amplifying him beyond his natural limits. If that was the case, then the answer was clear.

    He needed to separate Arayn from his blade.

    Hand-to-hand. That was where Valen would crush him. No one at their rank could surpass a Heavenly Demon in sheer strength. No one.

    Valen shot forward in a blur of motion.

    Arayn didn¡¯t hesitate. He raised his sword, stepping into the charge, meeting strength with strength. Their weapons clashed, the force of each strike shaking the ground beneath them. Sparks flew. Steel ground against steel, neither giving an inch. Then, Arayn saw an opening.

    His sword cut toward Valen¡¯s neck. However, Valen was already moving. He leaped back, just beyond the blade¡¯s reach. The moment his feet touched the ground, he hurled his spear once more.

    Arayn braced. The projectile tore through the air, forcing him to raise his sword and block. The impact rattled his arms¡ªbut that was when Valen struck.

    The man was already closing the gap, one hand shooting forward in a thrust. Arayn reacted instantly, thrusting his own sword in return. Suddenly, Valen¡¯s fingers curled mid-motion, shifting into a clawed grip.

    The sharp bite of steel piercing flesh. Valen had let the sword stab straight through his palm, but he didn¡¯t stop. His fingers clamped around Arayn¡¯s wrist like iron, locking him in place.

    A fist rocketed toward Arayn¡¯s face. He had no time to twist away, no room to dodge. So he retaliated.

    His knee bent. His body coiled. Then his leg shot up in a vicious high kick, aimed straight at Valen¡¯s chin.

    Valen staggered, but his grip never loosened. With sheer brute force, he wrenched the sword from Arayn¡¯s grasp, ripping it free. Arayn cursed and instantly leaped back, putting distance between them.

    Valen chuckled in satisfaction. He raised his wounded hand, flexing his fingers as if testing the damage. Then, without a hint of concern, he gripped the sword impaling his palm and yanked it free. Blood dripped onto the road, but he barely glanced at it.

    With an almost lazy motion, he tossed the weapon. The blade spun through the air before landing on a ruin of a house.

    As Valen used healing magic, the torn flesh on his hand began to mend. The wound sealed itself, muscle and skin knitting back together as if nothing had happened. A smirk played on his lips.

    "Round two," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Can you match me in hand-to-hand combat?"

 Chapter 58: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Part 4

    Arayn and Valen faced each other, the space between them shrinking to nothing. Arayn raised his fists, shoulders squared. His hands hovered near his face, elbows tucked in, every part of him coiled like a spring. His weight shifted, light, mobile, ready to weave and strike in the same breath.

    Valen stood wide, his body rooted like a mountain. One arm extended, fingers curled, while the other rested closer to his core, prepared to counter. His leading foot pressed forward, anchoring him, his back leg steadying his weight. Unlike Arayn¡¯s form, Valen¡¯s stance invited the clash, built not for dodging but for absorbing and overwhelming.

    Valen struck first. His back leg surged forward, his front leg snapping up in a powerful high kick. The air howled with its force¡ªthen crashed into nothing. His foot slammed into Arayn¡¯s afterimage, and in the next instant, it detonated.

    Flames erupted, scorching his skin, the heat biting deep. Valen gritted his teeth, but his voice remained calm as he chanted under his breath. The charred flesh mended instantly, raw burns fading into untouched skin. Without hesitation, he pulled his leg back, but before he could fully fix his stance, the real Arayn burst through the smoke.

    A jab shot toward him. Valen¡¯s arm snapped up just in time, absorbing the blow. Another followed. Then another. Arayn pressed forward, his fists flashing like arrows. Valen blocked them all while trying to create an opening.

    Valen¡¯s fingers snapped toward Arayn¡¯s jab, but the punch was too fast, slipping through his grasp like smoke. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay calm. His heartbeat slowed, his mind cleared, and an idea took shape.

    He dropped his guard.

    Arayn¡¯s next jab slammed into his chin. A sharp jolt ran through Valen¡¯s skull, and for a moment, the world wobbled. His body resisted his commands for a moment, his limbs sluggish. Then came the real strike, a straight punch to his solar plexus. Pain exploded in his core, but he gritted his teeth and endured it.

    As Arayn retracted his fist, Valen saw his chance. He regained control over his body again. His elbow shot up and swung down in a brutal arc, only to strike another afterimage. The explosion ignited at the point of impact, fire swallowing him whole. This time, he refused to be thrown back. His body screamed in protest, his skin blistering, but he pushed through, tearing past the flames.

    Arayn had already moved behind the afterimage.

    Valen laughed and shouted, "You sure are a crafty man!"

    He lunged forward, driving a spear jab straight at Arayn.

    In an instant, Arayn¡¯s stance shifted like a flowing water. One hand slid along Valen¡¯s arm, the other pressed against his wrist. Before Valen could react, his body lifted off the ground, momentum stolen. The world flipped upside down.

    Before Valen could hit the ground, he twisted his body, planting his feet firmly. His hand shot out, gripping Arayn¡¯s coat in a tight fist. Then, with a sharp pull, he yanked himself upright, lifting Arayn along with him.

    Arayn, still airborne, reacted instantly. His leg snapped out, a crushing kick slamming into Valen¡¯s head. The impact sent him crashing down, the ground trembling beneath the force.

    Valen refused to stay down. The moment his head touched the earth, he pushed off with both hands, launching himself into the air. His legs tucked, coiled, then snapped out in a vicious bicycle kick aimed straight for Arayn¡¯s head.

    Arayn twisted midair, his body spinning just enough to let the attack barely graze past him. He landed smoothly, barely a breath wasted, and without hesitation, drove a straight punch toward Valen¡ªwho was still upside down midair.

    Valen¡¯s arms crossed in front of him, absorbing the strike. The force sent him flying backward, but he twisted his body in the air, adjusting his stance. His feet touched the ground, sliding back slightly before he came to a stop.

    Silence hung between them. They locked eyes again, their bodies tense, reading each other''s next moves.

    Valen prided himself on his hand-to-hand combat skills. He had fought countless opponents, trained relentlessly, and honed his body into a weapon. Yet, he had to admit. Arayn was better in this area. his ability to read and react was almost unnatural. Not to mention, Arayn used and mastered more than one martial arts.

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    Meanwhile, Arayn studied Valen, his mind weighing every exchange. He had landed more hits, forced more reactions, but that didn¡¯t mean he was winning. If this dragged on, stamina and mana would become a problem. Between the two of them, he wasn¡¯t sure he had the advantage in endurance. However, going all out now was a gamble. He didn¡¯t know if Valen had shown everything yet.

    No¡ªhe needed to keep up this pace. Keep pressing forward. Deliver more damage. Force Valen to reveal more of his hand before it was too late.

    Valen slowly raised a finger.

    Arayn¡¯s eyes narrowed. He knew what was coming. Without hesitation, he summoned a dozen [Cursed Fangs], red projectiles brimming with demonic energy. With a flick of his wrist, they shot toward Valen like a storm of fangs ready to sink into flesh.

    Valen was prepared. A faint shimmer surrounded his finger, and in an instant, a light buckler materialized in front of him. This barrier was designed to block long-range attacks.

    Arayn expected this. He wasn¡¯t aiming for Valen.

    The fangs struck the ground instead, erupting into a violent explosion. Debris shot into the air, smoke billowing out, obscuring everything.

    Before it cleared, Arayn acted. A small, glowing fang formed beneath his shoe¡ªthen shot into the air, aiding him upward with a burst of momentum.

    Rising above Valen, he caught sight of him looking up, a grin stretched across his face.

    White beams fired.

    Arayn reacted instantly, conjuring a crimson barrier to shield himself¡ªbut the moment a single beam struck, the barrier shattered like fragile glass.

    "His holy spell is strong!" Arayn exclaimed. His mind raced. No time to waste.

    He dove, twisting and weaving through the barrage. The beams streaked past, searing the air, but some found their mark. Pain flared across Arayn''s body, but he had already adjusted his position¡ªnone of them struck anywhere vital.

    Arayn landed before Valen, burning pain coursing through his body. His legs, arms, and torso were riddled with holes¡ªwounds left by Valen¡¯s devastating beams. Blood dripped onto the cracked ground beneath him.

    Valen grinned, raising his arm high. His muscles tensed, mana surging into his hand. Then, with all his might, he brought it down in a powerful chop meant to finish Arayn off.

    At that moment, Arayn¡¯s body ignited with a deep crimson glow.

    His form twisted, shifting, growing. Black armor consumed his body with red patterns glowing across its surface.

    Valen¡¯s grin faded.

    Arayn raised his arm, blocking Valen¡¯s chop effortlessly. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the ground, but Arayn remained unmoved.

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed in caution. Without hesitation, he leaped back, but Arayn¡¯s hand shot out like a vice, grabbing his heel mid-air.

    He slammed Valen into the ground with a bone-rattling crash. Again. And again.

    The earth cracked beneath each impact, dust and debris flying with every brutal strike. Finally, Arayn hurled Valen across the street like a broken doll, but he wasn¡¯t done.

    He leaped high, his massive armored frame descending like a falling meteor, his foot aimed to crush Valen where he lay.

    At the last moment, Valen rolled, narrowly dodging the impact. The ground trembled as Arayn¡¯s foot shattered the spot where Valen had been.

    Without pause, Valen sprang to his feet. His gaze locked onto Arayn¡¯s new form.

    This fight had taken a dangerous turn. It turned out Arayn still had another card in his sleeve. However, this could be his trump card. That meant it was safe for him to use his own as well.

    Valen''s fingers twitched as he prepared to unleash his trump card. The power was there, coiled within him, waiting to be set free, but a nagging hesitation held him back.

    He had always been cautious. He never played his best hand unless he was certain of victory. Right now, despite the overwhelming strength his Heavenly Demon class granted him, something felt off.

    Arayn was still hiding something.

    Valen couldn¡¯t shake the feeling. If he committed now, if he revealed his full power, and Arayn still had more to give, he would be the one at a disadvantage.

    His instincts told him to wait. Then, a voice sneered in Valen¡¯s mind.

    "What are you waiting for? Use [Demonic Ascension]."

    Valen stiffened. His heart pounded as his eyes darted around, searching for the source. It wasn¡¯t Arayn. The voice had come from within.

    "The Second?" Valen asked, his thoughts racing.

    A deep, knowing chuckle echoed in his mind.

    "Yes," Azael Crimsonstar, the Second Heavenly Demon, confirmed. His voice carried urgency.

    "I recognize that form," Azael continued. "That¡¯s the Conquest Demon."

    Valen¡¯s fingers curled into a fist.

    "If you take this lightly," Azael warned, "you won¡¯t win."

    Arayn shot forward like a streak of black and red, his movements so fast they left afterimages in his wake. Each one erupted into an explosion, forcing Valen to stay on the defensive. Even with his sharpened senses, even after stripping Arayn of his invisibility, he could barely react.

    "He''s even faster now!" Valen exclaimed.

    Valen barely managed to raise his arms as a fist came crashing toward him,, but then, an explosion bloomed. The force sent a sharp pain through his arm, forcing him to pull back.

    That was when he saw them. Arayn¡¯s eyes. Deep red, swirling with magical patterns.

    Valen¡¯s breath hitched. "Corlust Eyes?"

    His voice tore out in disbelief. "Corlust Eyes? Since when did you have it?!"

    Arayn didn¡¯t answer. He didn¡¯t need to. Instead, his fists came down in a flurry, each one detonating on impact. Valen barely had time to register the pain before he was sent hurtling through the air, his body crashing through the street like a broken comet.

 Chapter 59: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Part 5

    Smoke curled from Arayn¡¯s fists, rising in thin, wispy tendrils. This was his new technique. A technique he had just learned. The principle was simple. He coated his hands with two layers of mana.

    The first was a protective layer, shielding his fists from his own destructive power. The second was pure explosive mana, ready to detonate on impact.

    He had learned it quickly. Too quickly. Mastering [Calamity Step: Destructive Mirage] had already given him insight into explosive mana. He understood how it worked, how to control it, how to shape it. With the [Corlust Eyes of Demonic Arsenal] guiding him, breaking down every detail, every movement, he had perfected it in an instant.

    This technique had one weakness. [Explosive Fist], a technique born in the heat of battle, only had Grade D.

    It wouldn¡¯t kill Valen. He knew that. However, it would be enough to push him further.

    Arayn¡¯s gaze locked onto his sword, lying amidst the ruins in the distance. That was his goal. His body was battered, his wounds deep. Though he moved well, each motion carried the weight of unseen damage. He could feel it; his body was failing.

    Now that Valen was far, this was his chance.

    He kicked off the ground, leaping toward the shattered remains of a house where his sword lay. The wind rushed past him. Just a little more¡ª

    A spear whistled through the air. Before he could react, it tore through his torso.

    Pain exploded in his chest. His momentum broke. He hit the ground and rolled, blood splattering the dust-covered ruins. His breath came ragged, sharp, but his fingers curled around the hilt of his sword. At least, he had it now.

    Valen clicked his tongue. "Tch. Missed your heart," he muttered, eyes narrowing. Then, a smirk curled on his lips. "No matter. I''ll finish this with all my might."

    He spread his arms wide as he began to chant:

    "O sacred dominion, keeper of righteous fury¡ªunveil thy might, purge the wicked, and let divinity reign within me! [Demonic Ascension]!"

    Blinding radiance erupted from his body. Golden lines traced across his skin like divine inscriptions, pulsing with an overwhelming presence. His wounds sealed instantly, his muscles surged with renewed strength, and his very being seemed to vibrate with immense power.

    This was [Demonic Ascension], Valen''s trump card. After receiving a sermon from the Second Heavenly Demon, he harbored no doubt anymore and used his class skill.

    The ground trembled beneath his feet. Then, with terrifying speed, he launched himself toward Arayn.

    Arayn gripped his sword. "Consume my lifespan, Sanguine!"

    A sudden pull deep within him. It was as if something vital was being drained away, siphoned into the blade. The sensation was cold, hollowing, but almost instantly, his wounds sealed. Strength flooded his limbs.

    He sprang to his feet, his sword whistling through the air in a vicious arc. The blade rushed toward Valen¡¯s neck, but just before it could carve into flesh, Valen twisted his body midair, narrowly evading the strike.

    In the same breath, Valen¡¯s fist shot toward Arayn¡¯s face. Arayn reacted on instinct, arching his back, the knuckle grazing past him.

    Valen landed behind him, his hands already reaching for his spear. With a swift motion, he yanked it free from the ground.

    Both warriors turned at the same time.

    Valen lunged, spear thrusting forward. Arayn¡¯s sword swung to meet it.

    Steel met steel.

    A shockwave exploded from the impact, rippling through the battlefield. Then, with sheer brute force, Valen pressed forward¡ªoverpowering Arayn and sending him hurtling backward.

    Arayn''s feet scraped against the dirt as he skidded backward, his body straining to slow the momentum. Before he could fully regain control, Valen was already airborne, descending like a falling star.

    The spear came down in a deadly arc.

    Arayn twisted his body, spinning to the side as he surged forward, slipping past Valen''s descending attack.

    The spear crashed into the ground, shattering the earth beneath it. Dust and debris shot into the air.

    Arayn moved like a shadow, his sword slicing toward Valen¡¯s exposed back, but Valen reacted in an instant. His foot snapped out¡ª

    A brutal kick slammed into Arayn¡¯s torso.

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    The impact sent Arayn hurtling like a cannonball. He crashed into the remains of a standing house. Wood and stone exploded outward, the structure collapsing in on itself, burying Arayn in a cloud of dust and rubble.

    Arayn burst from the wreckage, his armored form streaked with dust and debris. He didn¡¯t hesitate.

    "Consume my lifespan, Sanguine."

    A familiar sensation gripped him¡ªsomething inside being drained, devoured. His organs, bruised and battered from the impact, knitted back together in an instant. The pain dulled. His body was whole again.

    Arayn had just felt the raw, crushing power of a Heavenly Demon-class skill. Even now, with the Conquest Demon form bolstering him, even with the amplified damage from his Demon Hunter class, he couldn¡¯t match Valen¡¯s sheer strength. The difference was staggering. Yet¡ª

    Arayn¡¯s grip tightened on his sword.

    If this skill was truly invincible, Valen would have used it from the beginning. There had to be a catch.

    Mana.

    Valen had healed himself multiple times throughout the fight. And now, he was maintaining the overwhelming force of his transformation. Even if his mana pool was deep, it wasn''t endless. Eventually, he would drain himself.

    That was Arayn¡¯s opening.

    He exhaled slowly.

    To win, he had to wear Valen down. He had to inflict damage without taking any in return.

    It was a brutal challenge, but exhilarating.

    Valen lunged forward, eyes burning with amusement.

    "Did you just think you have a chance to win? I have bad news for you!" His spear shot forward, aimed at Arayn¡¯s chest.

    Arayn sidestepped, feeling the wind of the thrust graze past. He swung his sword in retaliation, but Valen twisted his neck, narrowly avoiding the blade. Without breaking momentum, Valen yanked his spear back, spun on his heel, and swept it in a wide arc, aiming to cleave through Arayn in one motion, but Arayn wasn¡¯t there.

    Arayn had already leaped, soaring above the deadly swing. Midair, he realigned his blade, ready to strike, but Valen was faster. He pulled his spear back, its shaft intercepting the descending sword.

    Valen grinned. "Now that I¡¯ve used my trump card, I¡¯ll finish this quickly!"

    He shoved against Arayn¡¯s sword with sheer force, sending him hurtling backward. Arayn hit the ground hard, skidding across the dirt, leaving a long trench in his wake.

    Valen exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His confidence soared. He could hit Arayn now. He would hit him.

    He planted his feet, and his spear began to glow.

    Mana flooded into it, coiling around the shaft like liquid fire. The air rippled with heat as streaks of blue lightning crackled along the weapon¡¯s length. The spear chirped like a bird, the energy building, pulsing, twisting like a caged beast waiting to be unleashed. The ground beneath Valen splintered as his aura expanded, warping the very air around him.

    He pointed the spear at Arayn, his grin widening. "Let¡¯s end this."

    Arayn¡¯s gaze locked onto the immense energy swirling around Valen¡¯s spear. The sheer pressure distorted the air, the blue lightning crackling in violent arcs. It was enough power to annihilate anything in its path. Yet, Arayn almost laughed.

    He pressed his chest, stifling the amusement that threatened to spill out. He was wary of Valen¡¯s strength, yes. The power of the Heavenly Demon class was overwhelming. However, if Valen intended to end this with one massive attack, that meant one thing.

    He was giving Arayn the opening he needed.

    Arayn straightened, rolling his shoulders, feeling the exhaustion gnaw at his body, but they didn¡¯t matter. Not now. Not when the moment he had been waiting for had finally arrived.

    He gripped his sword with both hands, its familiar weight grounding him. Then, he raised it high above his head.

    A deep crimson glow flickered at the blade¡¯s edge. It pulsed, slow at first, then faster, growing brighter with each heartbeat. The air around him thickened as the energy coalesced, forming a dense aura that crackled and hissed.

    The ruins around them trembled. Dust and debris lifted from the ground, swirling around him in a rising vortex. The very earth beneath his feet groaned in protest as the energy built, the deep red light illuminating his Conquest Demon armor, making the glowing patterns shimmer like molten veins.

    "Hahaha, you are actually going to compete with me directly? I guess you are getting desperate, huh? Alright, I will show you the might of my skill class, [Demonic Ascension]!" Valen exclaimed.

    Arayn exhaled slowly, his crimson eyes locked onto Valen¡¯s. "Come," he said calmly.

    Valen roared as he hurled his spear, the weapon spinning like a meteor through the air. The abyssal energy wrapped around it churned with a terrifying force, distorting space itself as it carved a path toward Arayn.

    "[Abyssal Lance]!" Valen¡¯s voice thundered, the very name of the technique carrying the weight of destruction.

    Arayn did not waver. With both hands gripping his sword, he brought it down in a devastating arc. A crimson crescent of energy erupted from the blade, slicing through the air like a god¡¯s judgment.

    [Conquest Sword Art: First Form ¨C Impose]!

    The two forces met.

    The moment they collided, the world seemed to freeze. The ground beneath them cracked and split, sending fissures racing outward. The air howled as shockwaves exploded from the point of impact, tearing apart the ruins and sending debris spiraling into the sky.

    The abyssal spear groaned, its blue-black energy writhing like a living thing against the crimson arc. For a breathless second, they held each other in a deadly stalemate. Then, the arc surged forward.

    Like a relentless tide, the crimson energy devoured the darkness, depleting the spear''s power. The crimson arc was now advancing toward him.

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened, disbelief carved into his face.

    "Impossible¡ª!"

    His words were cut short as the crimson arc crashed into him.

    The explosion swallowed him whole, a blinding eruption of red and black that painted the battlefield in destruction. The force of it sent shockwaves tearing through the land, uprooting stone and dust, reducing the remnants of the ruins to rubble.

    For a long moment, the only sound was the howling wind. Then, as the dust began to settle, Valen¡¯s figure stood amidst the devastation¡ªmangled but unbroken.

    His skin had been burned away in places, revealing raw, red flesh beneath. Half his body was missing, severed by the force of Arayn¡¯s attack, yet his [Demonic Ascension] aura still clung to him, warping and shifting like a living entity, refusing to let him fall.

    Valen¡¯s lips curled into a grimace as he raised his remaining hand, his voice a rasping whisper laced with power.

    "Hear me, Holy Light¡­ Mend what is lost, restore what is mine¡­"

    The moment the chant left his lips, the air around him twisted. His severed flesh began to reform, muscles knitting together, skin crawling back over exposed wounds like writhing serpents of shadow. Bones cracked and realigned, and in mere seconds, his body was whole again¡ªas if he had never been injured at all.

    Valen exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, testing his restored body. Then, he lifted his gaze back to Arayn.

 Chapter 60: Fall of the Heavenly Demon Part 6

    The night before his engagement to Alice, Valen found himself standing in an endless white expanse. There was no sky, no ground¡ªonly an infinite stretch of pale nothingness. Yet, at the center of it all sat a throne. Upon it rested a figure, shining so brilliantly that his features were impossible to discern.

    Valen took a step forward and asked, "Who are you?"

    The figure''s presence was overwhelming. He calmly replied, "I am Azael Crimsonstar, the Second Heavenly Demon."

    Valen''s eyes widened slightly before he lowered his head in respect, offering a slight bow. "It''s my honor to meet the progenitor of the Crimson Sun Cult."

    Even as he spoke, he tried to pierce through the radiance, to glimpse the face behind the light¡ªbut it was futile. Azael''s form remained obscured.

    Azael snorted, "You hold your head too high. Kneel."

    Before Valen could react, a crushing force descended upon him. The weight of it bore down like an unseen hand, commanding submission. His breath hitched, muscles tensing as the invisible force pressed against his shoulders, his spine, demanding he kneel.

    Azael''s voice carried a note of disdain. "Tyras must have filled your head with useless thoughts¡ªthings like ''we are equal.'' wake up. Your level is far too low to stand as our equal."

    Valen gritted his teeth, refusing to be humiliated like this. The weight of Azael¡¯s presence pressed down on him, but he held firm. His voice remained calm. "Even if you''re stronger than me, you can''t embarrass me like this. I doubt you came to me without a reason. You want something, don¡¯t you? Is this really the attitude to have when asking for a favor?"

    The pressure intensified, crushing down with even greater force, but Valen endured. His muscles burned, his vision blurred at the edges, but he refused to kneel.

    Then, Azael chuckled. "You¡¯ve got guts. At the very least, you¡¯ll need that if you want to be a Heavenly Demon."

    Just like that, the weight lifted. Valen inhaled sharply, his lungs finally free to take a full breath. He steadied himself, shoulders still tense, as Azael allowed him a brief moment of reprieve.

    "Do you know why I created another seed of the Heavenly Demon class?" Azael asked.

    Valen straightened. "Why?"

    Azael¡¯s voice was calm, yet there was something ominous in his words. "To nurture another equal¡ªto slay Tyras."

    Shock ran through Valen like a lightning strike. His mind reeled at the revelation. He forced himself to meet the blinding figure¡¯s gaze¡ªor at least where his eyes should have been.

    "Why do you want to kill the First?"

    Azael replied, "Tyras isn¡¯t the person you think he is."

    Valen frowned. Tyras was majestic, powerful, and charismatic. Those were the images he had in his mind. A being who commanded respect, one whose mere presence could shake the heavens. Valen had a good impression of him.

    "What do you mean?" Valen asked, his tone wary.

    Azael didn¡¯t answer directly. Instead, he posed a question of his own. "Tell me, what do you know about the First Demon?"

    Valen¡¯s brows furrowed as he recalled the stories he had read. "The First Demon¡­ He was terrifying. Wherever he went, destruction followed. Kingdoms fell, civilizations crumbled. He was a force of ruin, feared by all."

    Azael let out a quiet hum before telling the story about the first demon. "There is some truth in those stories. The First Demon was indeed feared, his name spoken in terror, but there is one thing people get wrong."

    Valen listened closely, his mind piecing together the implications.

    "The First Demon wasn¡¯t some monstrous abomination, nor a mindless beast of destruction," Azael continued. "He had a beautiful appearance, a figure that radiated power and charm. He carried himself with dignity, and his words could sway even the strongest of minds. To most, he seemed upright¡ªhonorable, even. Behind that mask, he was manipulative and cruel."

    Valen''s expression hardened.

    "He didn¡¯t just want destruction," Azael went on. "He wanted to erase everything¡ªCelestial Realm, Mortal Realm, Netherworld. It didn¡¯t matter to him. He sought to bring an end to all existence, to reduce everything to nothingness."

    Valen clenched his fists.

    "The celestials couldn¡¯t ignore him. They had no choice but to work together to kill him."

    A heavy silence followed before Valen finally spoke. "And what does that have to do with the First?"

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    Azael¡¯s voice dropped lower. "There¡¯s a secret I uncovered. One I shared only with the strongest demons and the celestials." He paused, letting the silence stretch before he spoke again.

    "The First Demon didn¡¯t die."

    Valen¡¯s breath caught.

    "He reincarnated," Azael continued. "As Tyras."

    Valen stiffened. His mind reeled, grasping at the implications.

    "His purpose hasn¡¯t changed," Azael went on. "He still seeks to destroy everything. The realms, the balance, existence itself. I might be cruel, but even I don¡¯t wish for complete annihilation."

    The air around them felt heavier.

    "But Tyras¡­ he¡¯s a problem." Azael¡¯s voice carried a hint of frustration. "Right now, he isn¡¯t as powerful as before, but it¡¯s only a matter of time before he surpasses even the strongest celestial."

    Valen narrowed his eyes. "Then why not kill him now?"

    "Because nothing can truly kill him," Azael said. "Not in the way you¡¯d hope. He did something to the Netherworld, so that even the celestials couldn''t enter it. There''s also a condition to kill him."

    A moment passed before Valen finally asked, "What¡¯s the condition?"

    Azael exhaled slowly. "Tyras divided his soul into seven pieces."

    Valen¡¯s eyes sharpened. This didn''t seem like just some common forbidden technique.

    "This isn¡¯t like the Doppelg?nger¡¯s forbidden technique," Azael continued. "What he used is something far more dangerous¡ªphylactery creation."

    Valen felt a chill run down his spine.

    "He embedded fragments of his soul into seven artifacts, each scattered across the world. As long as those phylacteries exist, he cannot be truly killed. Destroying his body would mean nothing¡ªhe would always return."

    Valen clenched his fists. "Then we have to find them first."

    Azael nodded. "And that¡¯s not all. Tyras didn¡¯t stop at just himself. He did the same thing to the Netherworld¡¯s Heart."

    Valen¡¯s breath hitched.

    "He sealed it away," Azael said, his tone dark. "Then he created seven keys, each one necessary to open the gate to the Netherworld. Until those keys are gathered and the gate is opened, no ascended-class individual can enter or leave the Netherworld."

    Valen felt the weight of the task settling onto his shoulders. "So before we can even think of killing Tyras, we need to destroy his phylacteries and unseal the Netherworld¡¯s Heart."

    Azael¡¯s voice was firm. "Exactly."

    Valen exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his voice. "I¡¯m only an expert-class. What could I possibly do to help?"

    Azael remained unmoved. "The locations of the Netherworld Keys and the phylacteries are unknown¡­ except for one."

    Valen¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    "It lies on a special island, one that only elite-class individuals can set foot on," Azael continued. "The island appears once every century. The next opening is in three years."

    Valen¡¯s breath steadied as he listened.

    "That¡¯s why, Valen Valehn," Azael¡¯s voice grew heavier with expectation. "If you want to be acknowledged as a Heavenly Demon, reach elite-class within three years and uncover the clue hidden on that island."

    The weight of the challenge pressed down on him, but Valen didn''t waver.

    "You have the Heavenly Demon class," Azael added. "Among your peers, there should be no equal."

    Valen¡¯s hesitation vanished. He met Azael¡¯s unseen gaze and spoke with certainty. "I will do it."

    Azael nodded, pleased. "Good."

    A strange shift in the air followed, as if the very space around them responded to Azael¡¯s will. Then, he declared, "From this moment on, I shall be your patron."

    A system message flickered before Valen¡¯s eyes, its words imprinting themselves into his mind. His breath caught as he read it. "This is..."

    "You are unmatched among your peers," Azael said, his tone carrying a warning. "But Tyras is cunning. He will find ways to trouble you. That gift is one of my personal abilities. You may use it only once, and only when you are in true danger."

    Valen clenched his fists, then bowed his head slightly. "Thank you, Lord Second."

    Azael gave a slow nod. "I expect great things from you, Valen. Become an elite-class in three years. I have no doubt you can do it."

    ---

    [Conquest Sword Art: First Form ¨C Impose] was Arayn¡¯s strongest attack, the pinnacle of his swordsmanship. It was the first time he had used it in an actual battle, and it was so difficult to unleash.

    To execute it, he had to channel a massive amount of energy into his blade, forcing him to remain motionless¡ªa fatal opening against a foe. The sheer concentration required to compress and stabilize the power made the technique impractical in a fast-paced fight. However, once unleashed, it carried enough force to overpower even Valen¡¯s strongest attack.

    Yet¡­ Valen still stood.

    Even after taking the full brunt of [Impose], after being torn apart and burned down to raw flesh, he had survived. His most devastating technique had landed perfectly, had pushed back Valen¡¯s so-called ultimate attack, and it still wasn¡¯t enough.

    Valen threw his head back and laughed. ¡°So your class is called Demon Hunter, and your demon form is Conquest Demon,¡± he said. ¡°I see now¡­ That¡¯s why you can match me. A class specifically designed to hunt demons and demonic classes¡ªhow fitting.¡± He chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°To think you could push me this far¡­ I commend you.¡±

    Arayn narrowed his eyes. How did Valen know about his class? There was no way he had known before. Now, he spoke with certainty. That meant only one thing¡ªValen was communicating with his patron in real time. If Arayn¡¯s guess was correct, then there was only one patron who would have such knowledge.

    A smirk tugged at his lips. ¡°You actually support your grandson¡¯s enemy.¡±

    Valen¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You can guess my patron?¡±

    Arayn scoffed. ¡°Who else could it be, if not the Second Heavenly Demon, Azael Crimsonstar?¡±

    An avatar loomed above Valen, its form taking shape in the air like a god descending from the heavens. A man with long white hair and piercing red eyes gazed down at Arayn.

    ¡°I''ve heard about you and your clever mind. It seems the rumors were true.¡±

    Arayn tilted his head, unfazed. ¡°I also know a lot about you, grandfather.¡±

    Azael Crimsonstar chuckled. ¡°I acknowledge you as my grandson, even if we are not related by blood, but you... you¡¯ve chosen the wrong side. Tyras isn''t as good as you think.¡±

    Arayn let out a laugh. ¡°Good? Bad? We are demonic beings, living in the shadows of the world. I thought our motto was to become the best by any means necessary.¡±

    ¡°Stupid grandson,¡± Azael sighed. ¡°You can only use anything if there is something left to use. Tyras will leave nothing. His very existence is an omen of apocalypse. He is fated to end this world.¡±

    Arayn didn¡¯t react. He had already known.

    Azael''s eyes narrowed. ¡°That look¡­ Don''t tell me you knew this and still chose to support him.¡±

    Arayn¡¯s grip tightened around his sword. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I¡¯m going to slay Valen.¡±

    Azael''s voice turned cold. ¡°Ungrateful Child. Then today will be your last.¡±

    Arayn smirked. ¡°I¡¯ve already died once. It was a nice experience. Go on, end me if your champion has the capability to do so.¡±

    Azael turned his gaze toward Valen. ¡°I permit you to use my personal skill, Valen.¡±

    With those words, the avatar vanished, leaving behind those two. Demon Hunter and Heavenly Demon. This would be the final clash.