Silent Casting. Instant Spellcasting.
[Bloodline Spell – Agonizing Strike (Curse-type spell, invisible to normal sight; once it hits the target, any subsequent injury will inflict extreme pain)]
[Bloodline Spell – Soul Shock (Condenses the caster's soul energy into an invisible blast that strikes directly at the opponent's soul)]
A two-hit sneak attack combo.
Knowing his opponent was still alive despite everything, Orsaga gave him no chance to turn the tables. He charged straight forward and slammed his foot into the man's skull with full force, delivering the final blow!
Utilizing strength and precision, his kick shattered the man's skull and mashed his brains into pulp.
If it weren't for the need to preserve the corpse and soul, Orsaga wouldn't have even bothered to approach. He could've just hurled a few Fireballs while the guy was severely wounded and ended it cleanly.
But resources weren't infinite— they were precious and not to be wasted lightly.
A quarter of his mana and a sliver of physical exertion—that was the cost of this kill. In strict terms, Orsaga and his opponent weren't too far apart in overall power. Their strength, speed, and endurance were likely on par.
Judging from the sheer force of that thrown spear, the guy might've even had a slight edge in raw strength.
Orsaga doubted he'd be able to shrug it off if he had taken a direct hit.
Among all the enemies he'd faced so far, this one was probably the strongest. Both of them had what it took to kill the other. In a fight like this, victory depended on decisiveness.
The opponent likely thought he had the upper hand and could kite Orsaga with mobility—just like how Orsaga used to hunt down beast-like demons.
What he didn't expect was that, while most minor Demon were still resorting to brawling at this early stage, Orsaga had already become a living spell-firing machine.
Old habits made the man instinctively treat Orsaga like a wild beast, and he paid for that assumption with his life. A costly lesson.
Had he not underestimated Orsaga, killing him wouldn't have been so clean—Orsaga would've had to take some hits to do it. From his ability to perform a Transmutation Ritual, it was clear he had decent magical aptitude as well.
But now, none of that mattered. He didn't even get a chance to cast a single spell.
Orsaga seized his soul. His tail pierced directly into the man's chest, ignoring external defenses, and drew out all the accumulated energy. In less than a minute, the body shriveled into a dried husk, and the ritual marks on his skin dimmed and vanished.
[+1277 Evolution Points]
In other words, the guy was worth over one thousand.
Orsaga was pleased. Seems like most minor Demons weren't even on this guy's level.
---
Abyssal Time – Over Ten Days Later
Beneath towering, corrupted trees, a rare hint of caution flickered across Orsaga's face as he casually tossed aside a mutilated corpse.
He closed his eyes and listened intently to his surroundings.
His long, elf-like ears—faintly scaled—twitched slightly, picking up something in the distance.
Moments later, he opened his eyes and looked to the sky.
There was a sound coming from above!
Orsaga crossed his arms. His tail lashed out, stabbing deep into the trunk of a nearby demonized tree. Using that as leverage, he propelled himself upward.
Each time his ascent slowed, his tail repeated the maneuver, giving him another boost!
Within seconds, he landed atop a high tree branch, gazing into the distant sky.
There, a massive horde of flying demons had gathered—screeches and howls filling the air in utter chaos. Their gigantic forms and overwhelming numbers darkened the sky like a swarm of locusts.
Bits of flesh and broken limbs rained down from above, staining the land below with crimson showers!
The monsters already on the ground, catching the scent of fresh blood in the air, erupted into a frenzy. The tenuous peace shattered instantly, and a brutal melee broke out.
Blood rained from the sky, and scarlet rivers flowed across the land. Every creature gave in to its bloodlust, unleashing its fury to the fullest. This was a grand event that only occurred periodically—where blood and death were the finest delicacies and wine!
Orsaga's already blood-colored eyes grew even redder in the face of this scene.
His demonic instincts were screaming at him—join the fray, hunt, slaughter, rip off their heads and claim them as trophies!
But he didn't leap in just yet.
Because his inherited demonic memories whispered to him that something more important was coming soon—the Abyss's gift was about to descend from the sky.
[Soul Crystal]
Crystals of pure soul energy that rained down from the sky—each one so dense it could elevate an minor Demon to a Lesser Demon in an instant. It was the Abyss's reward for demons residing in places like the Demonbone Forest, Soulless Abyss, and Shadow Caverns—starter zones for new demons.
Like tossing blood-soaked meat to a pack of wolves—only far crueler.
Once ingested, a Soul Crystal couldn't be absorbed immediately. It had to be slowly eroded using magic, and during this time, it would emit a powerful lure, broadcasting its presence to nearby demons.
Which meant every demon nearby would be dying to rip you open and take it.
A perfect trial-by-fire. Only the strongest survived. The rest were just disposable resources.
Every time these crystal fell, mass carnage would ensue. No negotiation, no alliances—just waves upon waves of slaughter. In the end, only one victor would walk away with the prize.
Right now, though, the event hadn't truly begun. According to Orsaga's senses, the descent of the Soul Crystal was still a few dozen minutes away.
The current bloodshed was merely a warm-up—a bit of spontaneous chaos stirred up by the monsters' natural brutality. Many hadn't even arrived yet...
---
The battle raged on.
The once-green corrupted forest was now drenched in blood. Crimson streams flowed along the ground.
The air was thick with moisture, now saturated with the scent of blood.
This was a celebration not just for demons and beasts—but for corrupted flora as well.
Swarms of bloodthirsty insects buzzed through the skies, trees, and soil, greedily licking at every drop of spilled blood.
Creatures were dying by the second, and more kept arriving. Formerly cunning predators that would've stalked from the shadows now brawled like lunatics. No more stealth—just full-on slaughter.
Just like the days along the banks of the River Stygian—simple, raw, and direct.
At some point, a thick fog blanketed the entire region. But the blood in the air turned even the mist a deep red.
Bloody condensation dripped steadily onto Orsaga's body.
But he ignored it. His gaze remained fixed on the distant sky, where a vortex had begun to form in the clouds—carrying the unmistakable scent of a Soul Crystal.
From all corners of the forest—hundreds of kilometers wide—millions of monsters were gathering, their roars shaking the air.
Further away, other soul crystal sites had drawn their own crowds of demons and beasts.
Within Orsaga's crimson gaze, the energy in the vortex had reached its peak. Something was about to descend. His body trembled slightly with anticipation. He wasn't alone—every creature with the ability to sense it was growing restless.
Some minor Demons, who had intended to wait like Orsaga, lost their patience and jumped into the ongoing chaos.
Many others had already forgotten the soul crystal entirely, lost in the thrill of killing—after all, demons were creatures of carnage. Whether they gained anything or not was secondary; a good fight was reward enough.
---
RUMBLE…
A gale of wind tore through the sky as thousands of purple, flaming crystals shot out from the swirling clouds above.
The flying monsters immediately lunged for them.
But the ground-based beasts wouldn't let them hog it all.
Tens of thousands of ranged attacks—flames, lightning, ice, venom—blasted into the air. The sky turned into a storm of chaos. Countless flying demons were struck down, plummeting to the ground and torn to pieces.
Even those who had the advantage of flight couldn't hold on for long amidst the infighting. Only a small portion of the Soul Crystal remained in their hands. The majority fell to the land, where they were quickly swarmed.
Perched atop the treetops, Orsaga watched the million-strong horde descend into absolute mayhem. Yet, he still didn't move.
It was far too chaotic. Step in now, and you'd lose all sense of direction.
Better to wait.
Wait until more of them are dead or crippled.
That would be his moment to strike.