004
Thwack!
The head of a zombie orc burst open.
Thwack!
The head of the zombie orc chieftain charging alongside it also exploded in a similar fashion.
Thwack! Thud!
For the first time, a different sound echoed instead of a head bursting.
"Zombie troll."
A troll was a mid-level monster known for its remarkable regenerative abilities.
Even a low-tier troll could instantly heal minor sword wounds or stabs. A mid-tier troll could seal up a hole in its stomach in an instant.
And a high-tier troll?
'It can regenerate even if its limbs are cut off.'
That's why trolls were infamous for being troublesome monsters. Among mid-tier monsters, they were one of the most avoided.
Yet, this troll had become a zombie.
A fusion of a troll's regenerative ability and a zombie's endurance, this creature was classified as a mid-tier undead.
Unless its head was completely severed in one blow, it was extremely difficult to kill. Its neck was so thick that even seasoned warriors struggled to cut through it easily.
However, despite all this, it was still considered a mid-tier undead for one simple reason:
'Fire and holy power.'
As long as one had either of these, the zombie troll's regeneration wouldn't be a significant issue.
Of course, Iroun had no intention of using fire or holy power.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The zombie troll charged toward Iroun with its massive body.
Taat!
With light footwork, Iroun kicked off the ground and leaped.
Boom!
A massive fist crashed into the spot where Iroun had just been standing, sending a deafening shockwave through the air.
The zombie troll, confused at not feeling the impact of a hit, frantically searched for Iroun—
But it was too late.
Tap.
A light landing.
Iroun had landed on the zombie troll's shoulder, and before it realized what was happening, his hand was already touching the troll's head.
'Blood Demon Absorption Art.'
He could feel the thick, sticky blood being sucked into his palm.
Groooar!
The zombie troll writhed in agony, trying desperately to shake Iroun off.
But it was pointless.
Even as the troll rampaged violently, Iroun remained firmly in place, skillfully shifting his balance while maintaining his grip on the troll's head.
In the end, the outcome was inevitable.
Thud!
The zombie troll collapsed.
Iroun landed on the ground without so much as a scratch.
"Hah…"
A wave of fullness washed over his entire body.
"Have I already reached the limit?"
At his feet, a pool of blood began forming.
It was the troll's blood—what little of it Iroun had not absorbed, now trickling down past his feet.
The meaning of this was simple.
'The end of the Crimson Blood stage.'
It was time to move on to the next stage.
And that was precisely the first goal Iroun sought to achieve in the Abyss.
"Rebirth."
---
The Blood Demon Divine Art
The Blood Demon Divine Art was already an incredibly fast cultivation technique.
His master, the Martial King, once told him:
"There was once a mere farmer who happened to learn the Blood Demon Divine Art. In less than three years, he plunged the entire martial world into a storm of bloodshed."
Even a talentless commoner could reach the peak within three years—such was the Blood Demon Divine Art, the ultimate demonic cultivation technique.
But that farmer's fate was tragic.
"Boom!"
Anyone without talent could never reach the second stage of the Blood Demon Divine Art.
The accumulating blood energy and internal force would eventually spiral out of control, causing the practitioner's body to explode.
That was the terrifying nature of the technique.
Yet, despite this, Iroun's progress was extraordinarily fast.
He had been in the Abyss for about two weeks.
To already be on the verge of the next stage meant there had to be a reason.
'Monster blood.'
The ability to devour the endless supply of monster blood in the corpse disposal ground.
'A past achievement.'
Iroun had already reached the pinnacle of the Blood Demon Divine Art once before.
'Talent.'
He was nothing like the farmer who stumbled upon the technique.
His masters once told him:
When he asked why he had been chosen as the Vessel of Chaos,
"Huh? Isn't it obvious?"
Their answer was simple.
"Because you are a vessel fit for a king."
A king's vessel—one who could become the ruler of the world.
His talent was immeasurable. He was a genius among geniuses, capable of mastering anything at an astonishing speed.
He couldn't believe it.
Yes, he had reached the rank of a top-tier warrior and was on the verge of becoming a high-ranker.
But to become a king, someone whom everyone revered?
"You were already chosen before your awakening."
"A king's vessel isn't always special from birth."
"You were simply unlucky after being born."
Had his talent awakened earlier, he could have ruled the world.
And so, his return had accelerated his mastery of the Blood Demon Divine Art to an unimaginable level.
In just two weeks, he had reached the end of the Crimson Blood stage.
Now, he was ready to advance to the next stage.
---
The Rebirth Ritual
Iroun gathered the surrounding corpses into a mountain.
Then, he dug into the ground, allowing the blood from the corpses' wounds to pool together.
'The surrounding undead have all been cleared out.'
He had also set up dozens of traps using the Iron Blood Sphere.
Now, there was only one thing left to do.
Splat.
He sat cross-legged in the knee-high pool of blood.
"Damn it."
He hadn't even started yet, and he was already cursing.
'Three rebirths should be enough to make me truly powerful.'
Three times?
"I can't believe I'm doing this again."
But there was no choice.
He had to grow stronger.
Revenge was secondary.
'Survival.'
In this insane world, power was the only way to stay alive.
With power, he could survive, seek revenge, and find his masters.
So…
"I just have to endure."
Iroun closed his eyes.
Woooosh!
The internal energy stored in his blood core began moving according to his will.
'Reverse Blood Flow.'
He forced the blood energy in his core to flow backward through his veins.
"Khgh!"
Going against the natural order—forcing an already blood-filled circulatory system to contain even more—inevitably caused his veins to burst.
He was attempting something every martial artist dreamed of: Rebirth.
'Reconstructing bones, shedding old skin.'
It was the process of rebirth, forging a body more suitable for martial arts.
Normally, this required years of internal energy accumulation, rigorous physical training, and a moment of profound enlightenment.
Boom!
Like an imugi ascending to become a dragon, one would be reborn.
But the Blood Demon Divine Art was different.
'Enlightenment? Not necessary.'
It simply crushed and rebuilt the body by brute force.
And, of course, there were consequences.
For example—
"Khagh!"
Every blood vessel bursting, every bone shattering.
Hisssss!
As his body expelled toxins and impurities, steam rose from his skin.
This was just the beginning.
For the next 24 hours, Iroun had to endure unimaginable agony.
---
"Haah… Haah…"
Iroun had endured.
He released his internal energy.
Flash!
The filth clinging to his body peeled away.
His appearance had changed.
Even after absorbing monster blood, his body had always remained frail—like the malnourished body of a slave.
Now, everything was different.