Netharion City – Demon Star Academy
Beneath the academy lies a vast, bottomless cavern. A narrow spiral staircase of stone winds endlessly downward, as if piercing straight into the heart of the earth itself.
From the abyss below, dark fiendish energy swirls upward like black smoke—thick and sinister, coiling through the air like a demonic dragon clawing its way to the surface. Its presence fills the cave with a constant low hiss, as if the very air is being eaten away by corruption.
A bird soared above the cave, wings fluttering. But the moment it crossed the threshold of the black mist, it shuddered violently—and fell. Like a broken arrow, it plunged into the darkness.
Splat!
Blood and feathers scattered across the cold stone. The bird—no larger than a sparrow—was dead before it hit the ground.
The moment its body landed, a pair of pale hands reached out from the shadows and seized it.
"Another dumb bird flying to its death. Well, looks like we've got extra meat today..."
The voice was low and dry, echoing softly in the gloom. A young man stepped forward, clad in a worn green robe.
He was tall but gaunt, his skin deathly pale, as if untouched by sunlight for years. His lips were colorless, his hair brittle and dry. He moved like a ghost—but his steps were steady. There was still defiance in the way he carried himself, even in this sunless, cursed cave.
His eyes, though dim and lifeless, burned faintly with something unyielding.
Crouching beside the corpse, he skinned and plucked it with practiced ease. Then, raising his right hand, he summoned a faint, glowing sigil on his palm.
The image shimmered in the dark: a square, seal-like phantom, etched with arcane patterns resembling ancient runes. As power surged through his veins, the sigil blazed suddenly to life—heat radiating from it as the mana around him stirred like kindling about to catch fire.
But before the flames could erupt, a black iron ring on his wrist trembled violently.
It clamped down, biting into his flesh like a vice.
The young man gritted his teeth as pain wracked his body. Cold sweat streamed down his face, but he said nothing. He pressed on, forcing the flow of magic through his body.
Whoosh!
Fire burst to life in his palm, illuminating the shadows. He held the bird over the flames. Fat sizzled. The rich, oily aroma of roasting meat filled the cave.
Cough, cough...
"Noah! Stop! Stop channeling your magic!" a frail, rasping voice cried out from deeper in the darkness.
"That Spirit-Severing Ring—it carves through your mana veins and feeds on your blood. If it doesn't drain you dry, the pain alone will kill you!"
The voice wheezed with every word, old and worn. But it carried a weight of desperate concern.
"It's not worth it. Not just for a piece of meat."
Noah didn't flinch.
"We're already trapped in this demonic hole. If we start eating raw flesh and drinking blood, what's left of our humanity?"
He looked into the fire, jaw clenched.
"It's just a little pain. I can handle it."
Noah wiped the cold sweat from his brow. Ignoring the searing heat of the roasted bird, he tore it in half and handed one piece to the old man beside him.
He then carefully split his own portion into three smaller bites, chewing each one slowly, drawing out every trace of flavor before finally swallowing.
Truthfully, roasted meat without seasoning was bland—almost tasteless. But even so, the scent of cooked flesh brought a sense of comfort that Noah hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.
In his previous life, he wouldn't have even looked twice at a bird roasted without salt. At the very least, he would've demanded cumin, sesame seeds, chili powder, a proper oil glaze, grilled to perfection, and served with crisp lettuce.
But after two years in this cursed world, he'd come to understand the weight of true suffering. Just a mouthful of cooked meat now felt like luxury beyond words.
The memories rushed in.
Two years ago, he'd awoken in this foreign world, his soul inhabiting the body of Noah—a student at Azurewood Academy.
It had seemed like a stroke of fortune. His new identity gave him access to cultivation techniques, abundant resources, and a promising future.
He had barely begun to hope—thinking he had escaped the dreaded "trash start" of most transmigrators—when tragedy struck. Demon Star Academy laid siege to Azurewood.
The sky turned black. The sun and moon seemed to vanish. The academy's protective array lasted less than half a day before it shattered under a deafening roar.
The dean fell in battle. Professors and staff were either slain or crippled. In the blink of an eye, the proud institution became a demon's lair.
With the higher-level powerhouses annihilated, students like Noah—mere Seekers in cultivation—had no chance to resist.
Hundreds were captured and shackled with Spirit Severing Rings, thrown into the depths of the Demon Star Stone Mine beneath the ruined academy.
The mine was ancient, infamous for producing Demon Star Stones—rare crystals that expanded mana pathways and significantly boosted a wizard's power. The academy had risen to prominence because of this very resource.
But the deeper veins of the mine were cursed. Fiendish energy surged from the rocks, corrupting all it touched. Ordinary humans would rot from the inside within days—their organs liquefied by the tainted aura.
Only wizards could endure it long enough to mine.
The Spirit Severing Rings kept Noah and the others from casting spells. But their magic power still flowed internally, just enough to resist the corruption—just enough to keep working.
They'd been mining for over a year.
No sunlight. No rest. Just hunger and cold. Their daily rations amounted to little more than watery porridge and scraps—sometimes even rotten.
Each day, they were required to mine at least three Demon Star Stones—or face the lash.
The whip, soaked in fiendish essence, was no ordinary tool of punishment. When it struck flesh, it felt as though it tore through muscle and scraped the organs beneath.
But the mine had been worked for centuries. Stones were harder to find with each passing week. No matter how hard Noah labored, he often fell short—and paid in blood.
Yet the pain forged something else within him. His endurance grew. His will hardened.
That was how he'd been able to resist the crushing force of the Spirit Severing Ring, forcibly activate the Fire Seal, and summon flame—to cook that bird.
As the last bite slid down his throat, he swallowed again to savor the warmth. A small, rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Then his eyes turned toward the silent figure in the corner.
"Senior Brother Alex," he asked softly, "why aren't you eating?"
This old man had once been a student of Azurewood Academy too. Unlike Noah, who was still a novice at the Seeker stage, Senior Brother Alex had stood just one step away from the Awakened realm.
But as they say, the tallest tree catches the wind.
That level of cultivation made him a prime target during the invasion. He was gravely wounded in the siege, his mana core shattered, and his strength regressed. He was captured, fitted with a Spirit Severing Ring, and thrown into the mines like the rest.
Though they hadn't studied under the same master, a strange bond had formed between them. They relied on each other to survive the darkness. After a year of shared struggle—meager rations, freezing nights, brutal labor—their companionship had grown solid and sincere.
But now, Alex wasn't eating. He only muttered softly, almost to himself:
"Noah… I'm going to die."
Silence fell over the cave.
Noah took a few steps closer, his heart sinking. He studied the man in the shadows.
Curled up in the corner, Senior Brother Alex looked unrecognizable—his once youthful features now wrinkled and sunken, skin grey and cracked with veins of swirling black energy. His white hair clung to his scalp in greasy strands, and every breath came with a cough that made his sparse brows twitch from the pain.
"How could it have come to this…?"
Noah's voice was a whisper, his chest tight.
Though Alex was over fifty, the mana within him had always kept him looking young—like a man in his mid-thirties. Even after becoming a miner, he had remained agile and alert.
But now… it was as if he'd aged decades overnight.
"I've been holding on for a while," Alex rasped. "My mana core is fractured. My energy doesn't flow right anymore. I can't suppress the fiendish energy. Every day I mine, a little more of it gets into me. The more I dig, the closer I get to death…"
He curled tighter against the cold stone, voice trailing into hopelessness.
"Senior Brother…"
"Say no more," Alex cut him off, shaking his head weakly. "I'm a dying man. But you—Noah—you still have a chance."
Noah opened his mouth to speak, but Alex interrupted again, his voice suddenly sharp despite the weakness.
"Come closer."
Noah obeyed, his magic quietly circulating to dull the pain from the Spirit Severing Ring clamped on his right wrist. He kept that hand behind his back as he approached.
Alex lowered his head, shielding his eyes, but his voice was filled with urgency.
"Noah, look."
He reached over and dragged a heavy stone aside, revealing a pit at the base of the wall. Covered with dry hemp and tattered rags, it looked like a forgotten corner. But beneath the mess—there they were.
Rough, jagged stones. Faintly glowing.
Demon Star Stones.
There were at least twenty—each the size of a fist, their surfaces pulsing with that familiar, ominous starlight.
"You hid these?" Noah's eyes widened.
Alex nodded. "Mining these stones isn't easy. Wizards are the only ones who can survive it. The Demon Star Academy knows that. So to keep us working, they created a rule: mine a top-grade stone, or turn in thirty mid-grade ones—and you can leave the mines. You change your allegiance, join them. Escape this hell."
He coughed violently, spitting a bit of blood, but still continued, as though he'd rehearsed these words many times in his mind.
"I know about that rule," Noah said grimly. "But to switch sides… you need more than stones. You need a certificate of allegiance."
Everyone in the mines knew the price.
A fellow student's corpse.
Kill your own. Prove your betrayal. That was the only way to leave the darkness.
"I would never ask you to do something so vile under normal circumstances," Alex said softly. "Even the lowest creatures struggle to survive. I'm no different. I don't want to die. But now… the fiendish energy has consumed too much of me. I won't last the week."
He grabbed Noah's left hand tightly, his cloudy eyes brimming with tears.
"Take the stones. Kill me. Use my death to escape this place. You still have hope, Noah. You can live."
Noah stood still.
Alex, sobbing now, tried to console him further. "You don't need to feel guilt. I've already made peace with it…"
But then, he stopped mid-sentence.
Something was off.
"Wait… you—what are you—?"
Whoosh!
The air screamed. Heat surged through the cavern.
A sudden, burning pressure lashed toward him.
Noah struck.
No hesitation. No second thoughts.
The right hand he'd kept hidden burst forward—fierce and merciless. Despite the Spirit Severing Ring digging into his flesh and screaming against his movement, he pushed through.
A searing force, like a beast's roar trapped in fire, shot through the darkness—
And fell upon Senior Brother Alex.