It stood still for a breath—blazing eyes fixed on me, seething with a mixture of fury and something darker: fear. Then, with a guttural roar that shook the scorched air, it lunged. Claws streaked forward, edges glowing with flickering embers, and I met its advance with steel. My sword flashed, met metal with claw, and the sound of impact hammered through my arms—
CLANG!
CLANG!
Each strike sending sparks leaping into the ash-laden wind. The beast struck with ferocity, but its blows had lost the precision of a hunter; there was a frantic, uneven cadence to them, the rhythm of something cornered and desperate.
It snarled and fell back, lungs heaving in harsh, uneven breaths, then began to fling fire—orb after blistering orb that screamed toward me. I gathered mana at my palm, felt the volatile heat answering the beast's assault, and fought flame with flame. Each fireball it launched I met and detonated mid-air, thunder cracking as our magics collided. The beast faltered; its flames shrank, unstable and weak. Its eyes darted, searching for escape, but it could not move—something invisible anchored it, a chain that held its body like a tether to a wound it could not flee.
I noticed the shift before I fully understood it: the air changed, cold crawling along my spine as powerful presences closed in behind me. Four demons appeared—towering, crimson-fleshed monstrosities, each as massive as Krent with shoulders like boulders and an aura of dread that pressed on the chest. Their yellow eyes burned with predatory hunger; their flesh seemed pulled from the molten heart of a world, and they carried a strength that set them apart from the beast I'd just bested. These were not mere S-rank foes—they radiated a level beyond that.
Krent's form among the rubble caught my eye. For a heartbeat I feared the worst, then relief and shock washed through me as he moved—slow, shaky, but alive. He pushed himself up from the wreckage of the shattered house, blood matting his face, his left arm gone and crudely bandaged. He leaned on his sword with the last of his strength, blood seeping through the cloth, but he stood. There was no surrender in him; his gaze burned with a stubborn, unbreakable determination. Even crippled, he gave off an aura—a heavy, sharp heartbeat of power that felt refined and disciplined rather than raw. It was the pulse of one who had pushed beyond limits: the aura of a warrior reborn from ashes, on par with a high-rank Aura Controller.
He roared as if the pain itself were fuel: "A man fights till his last breath! I've never given up in my whole damn life. Not today! Not tomorrow! Not ever!" The sound shook the battlefield. He breathed raggedly, voice hoarse, then spoke with the slow, burning clarity of a man who had watched everything he loved snatched away. "For the people of this village… for those who screamed as they were slaughtered… for my wife, eaten before my eyes…I will fight. For revenge." The words hung between us—raw, human, impossible to ignore.
A demon stepped forward, mocking and cruel. Its voice rasped like gravel dragged through flame as it sneered at Krent's defiance, calling him broken, asking if courage made him strong. Its laughter was a cold thing, echoed by the others as their claws twitched hungrily. Krent did not waver; he tightened his grip and took another step forward despite the bandaged stump and the pain. He looked like everything he had left consolidated into one unshakable line: I will not yield.
I could not let him stand alone. The battlefield smelled of blood and ash, of charred timber and scorched earth. I stepped forward until the ground ground under my boots, and I let my aura unfurl—thick, tangible pressure that rolled across the field like the front of a storm. "Are you demons? Who sent you?" I demanded. The lead demon cocked its head as if amused, smiling with jagged fangs. "You're powerful," it purred. "You might be the one he asked for." The line hung there, a threat half-breathed and deliberately vague, and my jaw tightened. "Who is he?" I snapped, letting fury edge my words and adding weight to the aura that trembled in the air.
The demon only chuckled darkly and promised I would meet him soon enough—after it had toyed with me. The others hissed and leaned in, claws flexing, hunger in their eyes. Before they could strike, Krent reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. His voice was low, a whisper meant only for me: "You should go. I'll hold them off as long as I can." I stared at him, at every cut, every grit of dust on his face, at the way he clenched his teeth. "No," I said, voice steady, "Krent, I'm fighting. I'll kill them." He looked at me like a father looking at a stubborn son, breath ragged. "Kid," he rasped, "If you stay, neither of us walks out." The plea in his words was plain.
I surprised him then with a small, confident smirk. "Can I ask a favor?" I said. He blinked, unsure. "Rest over there in the corner," I told him. "Close your eyes if it gets too bright. Don't tell anyone what's going to happen next." Confusion flickered across his face, then understanding of a strange sort. He took my cloak with shaking hands and backed away, and I watched him go until he settled in the shadowed corner, breathing shallow and steady.
I turned back to the demons without hesitation. My hand pressed to the mark etched on my palm and I called upon the armor mark—black plates blooming across my skin, scales darker than shadow, their ridged edges lined in crimson that glowed like coals. I ignited the Cytric Body: mana roared through my core, hair whitening as raw force billowed outward. Light flashed. My senses sharpened to a knife's edge. I engaged the Mana Breathing Method and felt my core begin to restore even as I fought. The world narrowed to the strain of my muscles and the taste of ozone. I stepped forward and laughed softly—equal parts promise and threat.
"Shall we begin?" I said, voice like thunder wrapped in steel. I raised my sword, its edge shimmering beneath the heavy, palpable aura. "I'm not going to leave a single one of you," I told them, and then, quieter but colder, "I'm going to kill every last one of you. Then I'll find out who he is." The demons growled, eyes narrowing, but they hesitated. This was the moment I had trained for—the edge where everything I had become met everything that wished to break me.