The journey toward the mountains began at dawn—or what passed for dawn in this timeless underground realm, where the only changes in illumination came from the variable glow of the magma rivers and lakes that dotted the landscape. Korvus and Roy moved with purpose, no longer skulking through the twisted forests like the newly hatched demons they had once been, but striding confidently across the hellish terrain.
"There's something different about the air as we get closer to the mountains," Korvus noted, his enhanced senses detecting subtle changes in the environment. "It's less sulfurous, more... metallic."
Roy nodded, his wings partially extended to catch the occasional updraft. "I've noticed that too. And there's something else—a sort of pressure. Not physical, but..."
"Spiritual," Korvus finished. "Like we're entering territory that's fundamentally different from the areas we've inhabited before."
They had been traveling for three days, covering ground at an impressive pace. The twisted forest had given way to a rocky plain scattered with geysers of superheated gas, which in turn had led to the foothills they now traversed. With each passing hour, the mountains loomed larger before them—massive formations of black stone veined with glowing red magma, their peaks disappearing into a ceiling of stalactites hanging from the cavern roof high above.
Roy suddenly tensed, his wings flaring defensively. "Movement ahead. Multiple signatures."
Korvus focused, extending his senses outward. Despite the significant boost to his abilities following hibernation, he still couldn't detect other beings at the range Roy apparently could. This limitation had been bothering him increasingly over the past few days.
"How many?" he asked, preparing himself for conflict.
"Eight... no, ten," Roy replied, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "They're coming this way, moving in formation. Not random movement—this is coordinated."
"A hunting party?"
"Or a patrol," Roy suggested. "Either way, they'll be on us in minutes."
Korvus considered their options. They could attempt to avoid the approaching demons, but that would delay their progress toward the mountains. More importantly, it would deny them information about what they might be facing as they ventured deeper into this territory.
"Let's meet them head-on," Korvus decided. "But first, let's find high ground—give ourselves a tactical advantage."
They quickly scaled a nearby rock formation, positioning themselves atop a flat-topped boulder that provided both visibility and defensibility. Korvus used the moments before the patrol arrived to steady his breathing, preparing to activate his combat techniques at a moment's notice.
Soon, the approaching group came into view. They were unlike any demons Korvus and Roy had encountered before. Bipedal and roughly humanoid, they had skin the color of burnished copper and wore crude armor fashioned from what appeared to be the bones and scales of other creatures. Each carried weapons—some wielded spears tipped with crystalline points, others brandished serrated swords that glowed with faint internal light. Their leader, larger than the others and adorned with more elaborate bone decorations, carried a massive hammer that seemed to shimmer with heat.
"Mountain clans," Roy murmured. "I've heard whispers about them from the souls I've consumed. They're organized, territorial, and generally more advanced than the chaotic demons of the lower plains."
The patrol spotted them almost immediately. The leader barked commands in a language Korvus didn't understand, and the group spread out in a semicircle, weapons raised.
"Trespassers!" the leader called out in the common demon tongue, his voice guttural but clear. "You enter the domain of Vexior the Unyielding, Lord of the Crimson Peaks. State your purpose or be destroyed."
Korvus exchanged a quick glance with Roy. This was an interesting development—demons with social structure, clear communication, and defined territory.
"We seek passage through the mountains," Korvus replied, standing tall to display his confidence. "We mean no harm to your lord or his domain."
The leader laughed, a harsh sound like stones grinding together. "No harm? Two demons of your evident power do not simply 'seek passage.' You come to challenge, to conquer, or to steal. Lord Vexior does not suffer potential rivals within his territory."
"We're just passing through," Roy insisted, his wings spreading slightly in an instinctive display of dominance.
"Those are not the wings of a low-rank demon," the leader observed, eyes narrowing. "And you"—he pointed his hammer at Korvus—"you carry the stench of multiple elements. Unusual. Lord Vexior will want to interrogate you himself." He gestured sharply with his free hand. "Surrender your weapons and come with us, or die where you stand."
Korvus felt a familiar warmth building in his chest—the precursor to his elemental abilities activating. "I think there's been a misunderstanding," he said calmly. "We're not here to challenge your lord. But we also won't be taken prisoner."
The leader's expression hardened. "Then the decision is made." He raised his hammer high. "Kill them. Bring their souls to Lord Vexior!"
The patrol charged forward as one, their movements coordinated with a precision that spoke of long training. Under different circumstances, Korvus might have been impressed.
"I'll take the five on the left," Roy said casually, darkness already gathering around his clawed hands.
"Leaving me the five on the right, including their leader," Korvus noted. "How generous of you."
Roy grinned, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "What are partners for?"
Then the battle was joined in earnest. Korvus leaped down from their perch, landing directly in front of the approaching demons. Without hesitation, he shifted into the breathing pattern for Flame Breathing.
"Second Form: Rising Scorching Sun!"
Fire erupted from his claws as he executed a sweeping upward arc, catching two of the demons in its path. Their crude armor offered no protection against the intense heat, and they fell back screaming as flames engulfed their bodies.
The leader and the remaining two demons adjusted quickly, spreading out to flank him. One thrust a crystalline spear toward Korvus's midsection while the other swung a serrated sword at his neck in a coordinated attack designed to force him into the path of the leader's hammer.
In his earlier evolution as a demon, such an attack might have posed a serious threat. But Korvus's body now moved with a fluidity and speed that made their coordinated assault seem almost laughably slow. He ducked under the sword, pivoted around the spear, and countered with a lightning-fast strike.
"First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!"
Electricity discharged from his claws as they tore through the sword-wielder's chest, the demon's body convulsing violently before collapsing. The spear-wielder backed away hastily, but not quickly enough to avoid a secondary arc of lightning that leaped from his fallen comrade to strike him directly in the face. He dropped, smoke rising from empty eye sockets.
The leader, momentarily stunned by the swift elimination of his subordinates, recovered quickly and charged with surprising speed, his hammer leaving a trail of heat shimmer in the air.
"You'll pay for that, outsider!" he roared, swinging the massive weapon in a horizontal arc aimed at Korvus's head.
Korvus raised his arm to block, channeling elemental energy to reinforce his limb. The hammer connected with his forearm in a shower of sparks, the impact sending a shockwave through the surrounding air. But Korvus held firm, his feet barely sliding an inch despite the tremendous force behind the blow.
The leader's eyes widened in shock. "Impossible! No demon of your rank could withstand the Hellforge Hammer!"
Korvus smiled coldly. "Perhaps you've miscalculated my rank."
He pushed back against the hammer, forcing the leader off balance, then followed with a devastating combination of strikes that mixed fire and lightning in a display of his Elemental Synchronization. The leader's armor cracked under the assault, pieces of bone falling away to reveal the vulnerable flesh beneath.
"What are you?" the leader gasped, blood dripping from multiple wounds as he struggled to maintain his defensive stance.
"Someone you should have let pass," Korvus replied simply, before delivering a final, decisive blow that pierced directly through the leader's chest.
As the leader fell, a soul much brighter and more substantial than those of his subordinates emerged from his body. Korvus absorbed it immediately, feeling a rush of knowledge and power flow into him—memories of the mountains, of their lord Vexior, of the structures and hierarchies that governed life in the Crimson Peaks.
He turned to check on Roy, only to find his partner casually sitting atop a pile of defeated demons, darkness still swirling around his hands.
"Took you long enough," Roy commented with a smirk. "I've been done for at least thirty seconds."
Korvus snorted. "You had the easy ones."
"Debatable." Roy hopped down from his perch, approaching the body of the patrol leader. "Did you get anything useful from his soul?"
"Quite a bit, actually," Korvus confirmed. "These mountains are ruled by a middle-rank demon named Vexior. He's established a sort of feudal system, with various clans controlling different territories but all ultimately answering to him."
"Sophisticated for this realm," Roy observed. "Most demons we've encountered can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone social structures."
"It gets more interesting," Korvus continued. "According to the leader's memories, Vexior maintains his control partly through fear, partly through a monopoly on resources—particularly access to something called the 'Moon Altar.'"
Roy's eyes sharpened with interest. "An altar? Like the summoning altars I mentioned?"
"Exactly like that," Korvus confirmed. "Located in an extinct volcano near the highest peak. Vexior controls access to it, allowing only his most loyal followers to use it for summoning."
"This changes our approach," Roy said thoughtfully. "We're not just looking for territory now—we have a specific target."
Korvus nodded. "And we can expect resistance. This patrol won't be missed for some time, according to the leader's thoughts, but eventually Vexior will send more forces to investigate."
"Then we should move quickly," Roy decided. "Continue toward the mountains, but adjust our course toward this extinct volcano."
"Agreed. But there's something else I want to discuss," Korvus said, his expression turning serious. "During the fight, I noticed how quickly you detected those demons approaching—long before I sensed anything. It's not the first time, either."
"Different abilities develop differently. Your elemental powers far exceed mine."
"It's not just about power," Korvus insisted. "It's about awareness. Your perceptive abilities give you a distinct advantage—one I could benefit from as well."
Roy considered this for a moment. "You're right. The Essence of the Blank means you can learn any discipline. Perhaps with the right approach..."
"Teach me," Korvus said simply. "Show me how you sense things beyond normal perception."
They continued their journey toward the mountains, but now with a new purpose during their rest periods. Rather than merely recovering physical energy, they devoted time to developing Korvus's perceptive abilities.
"Close your eyes," Roy instructed during their first session, as they sat at the base of a dark stone outcropping. "Perception in this realm isn't about sight or sound—it's about feeling the darkness itself."
Korvus followed the instruction, shutting out the visual input of his surroundings. "What am I looking for?"
"Don't look," Roy corrected. "Feel. The darkness here isn't just absence of light—it's a substance, an energy that connects everything. Your Dark attribute gives you a natural affinity for it."
Korvus focused, trying to sense what Roy described. At first, there was nothing—just the void behind his closed eyelids. But gradually, as minutes stretched into an hour, he began to perceive... something. Not with his eyes or ears, but with some other sense that had no name.
"I feel... ripples," he said hesitantly. "Like standing in water when something moves nearby."
Roy nodded encouragingly. "That's the beginning. The darkness responds to movement, to presence. With practice, you'll learn to interpret those ripples—to distinguish between different entities, to gauge their strength, their intentions."
Each day thereafter, they spent hours honing this nascent ability. Korvus would sit in meditation while Roy moved silently around him, challenging him to track his position without seeing or hearing him. At first, Korvus could barely tell when Roy was directly in front of him. But gradually, his range extended—first to several meters, then to tens of meters.
"This is similar to an ability from my human memories," Korvus remarked during one session. "Something called 'Observation Haki'—a sixth sense that allowed perception of presence, strength, even emotions."
"The principles may be similar," Roy agreed. "But here, you're specifically attuning to the darkness. You might call it 'Dark Perception' or 'Shadow Sense.'"
"I think I'll stick with Observation Haki," Korvus decided. "It's a tribute to a story I once loved."
By the fifth day of practice, Korvus could detect the presence of other demons at a distance of nearly thirty meters—not quite matching Roy's range, but a significant improvement. More impressively, he was beginning to distinguish between different types of demonic energies, identifying potential threats before they became visible.
During a hunt on the sixth day, this new ability saved them both. Korvus suddenly froze mid-stride, his eyes widening as he sensed a powerful presence ahead.
"Stop," he whispered to Roy. "Three... no, four entities ahead. Much stronger than the usual denizens of this area."
Roy extended his own senses, then nodded in confirmation. "Impressive. You're right—a hunting party, and strong ones too. Mountain clan demons, from their energy signature."
They carefully circumvented the danger, a confrontation they might not have survived at their current level of power. After they were safely past, Roy clapped Korvus on the shoulder.
"Your progress is remarkable," he said approvingly. "It took me weeks to develop the level of perception you've achieved in days."
"The Essence of Training accelerates my learning," Korvus reminded him. "But it still requires proper instruction. I wouldn't have progressed so quickly without your guidance."
This new perceptive ability complemented Korvus's combat techniques perfectly. Where his Flame and Thunder Breathing provided offensive power, Observation Haki gave him the awareness to use that power more effectively—anticipating attacks, identifying weaknesses, coordinating with Roy in complex battle situations.
But Korvus wasn't content to stop there. His Dark attribute clearly had untapped potential beyond mere perception. During one of their rest periods, as the massive purple-tinted moon hung low in the subterranean "sky," inspiration struck.
"The darkness responds to my will now," he mused, watching shadows shift as he extended his perception. "What if I could shape it, use it as directly as I use fire and lightning?"
Roy looked intrigued. "A third breathing style? Based on darkness?"
"Not just darkness," Korvus replied, gazing up at the moon. "The interplay between darkness and moonlight. In the anime that inspired my breathing techniques, the most powerful style was called 'Moon Breathing.'"
"Ambitious," Roy commented. "Developing a third elemental affinity while the first two are still being refined."
But Korvus was already experimenting, altering his breathing pattern to a slower, more fluid rhythm that differed from both his Flame and Thunder techniques. He focused on the moonlight filtering through the twisted canopy above, feeling how it interacted with the ambient darkness.
For several days, progress was minimal. Unlike fire and lightning, which manifested through external expressions of energy, moonlight and darkness required a more subtle approach—the manipulation of existing elements rather than the creation of new ones.
"It's like trying to grasp water," Korvus said in frustration after a particularly unproductive session. "I can feel it, but can't quite control it."
"You're thinking too directly," Roy suggested after observing his efforts. "Fire burns, lightning strikes—these are active, aggressive energies. Darkness and moonlight are passive, reflective. Don't try to force them; guide them."
Taking this advice to heart, Korvus changed his approach. Rather than attempting to project darkness as he did with fire, he began to work with the shadows that already existed, extending his will into them through his breathing technique.
On the tenth night of practice, as they camped in a small cave overlooking a magma river, the breakthrough finally came. Korvus, deep in his breathing meditation, noticed how the moonlight filtering into the cave created distinct patterns of light and shadow. He focused on one particularly dense shadow, not trying to move it, but rather feeling its essence, becoming one with it.
"First Form: Dark Moon Evening Dusk," he whispered, the name coming to him instinctively as he extended his hand toward the shadow.
To his astonishment, the shadow responded, stretching toward him like a living thing. It wrapped around his outstretched hand, coating his claws in darkness that seemed more substantial than mere absence of light.
Roy, who had been resting nearby, sat up in surprise. "That's... remarkable," he said, studying the transformed appendage. "The shadow has physical substance."
Korvus experimentally slashed at a nearby rock. Where his shadow-coated claws struck, they left deep gouges in the stone—far deeper than his physical strength alone should have allowed.
"The darkness enhances cutting power," he observed, examining his claws as the shadow coating gradually dissipated. "And I think there's much more to discover."
Over the next few days, Korvus devoted himself to developing this new Moon Breathing technique, quickly expanding his repertoire to include two additional forms. The Second Form, "Lunar Eclipse," allowed him to temporarily cloak himself in shadows, becoming nearly invisible in darkness. The Third Form, "Loathsome Moon, Chains of Darkness," enabled him to extend shadows into binding tendrils that could immobilize opponents.
When he checked his status panel after mastering these initial forms, he was pleased to see the addition of a new attribute:
Name: Korvus Meryer Ywatt Alucard Lundisha Bloodborn Skywalker
Race: Demon
Form: Juvenile (Maturing)
Hierarchy: Low rank (Upper Tier)
Attribute: Dark (Advanced), Fire (Developed), Lightning (Developing)
Strength: 35
Speed: 43
Magic Energy: 30
Vitality: 35
Skills: Flame Breathing (Adept), Thunder Breathing (Adept), Moon Breathing (Novice), Observation Haki (Developing)
Essences: Involate Self, The Blank, Training
The development of these new abilities came just in time. As they approached the foothills of the mountains, the terrain became more challenging, and the demonic entities they encountered grew stronger and more organized. Their first serious conflict came when they encountered what appeared to be a border patrol—ten demons moving in coordinated formation, armed with weapons and wearing crude armor fashioned from bone and scales.
"Halt!" commanded the leader, a copper-skinned demon wielding a massive hammer that smoldered with heat. "You enter the domain of Vexior the Unyielding, Lord of the Crimson Peaks. Who are you to trespass on his territory?"
Korvus and Roy exchanged glances, silently assessing the situation. The patrol outnumbered them, but their newly developed abilities might give them an edge if combat became necessary.
"We seek passage through the mountains," Korvus replied diplomatically. "We mean no harm to your lord or his domain."
The patrol leader laughed harshly. "No one passes through Vexior's territory without his permission. And he grants such permission only to those who prove their worth—or pledge their loyalty."
"And how does one prove their worth?" Roy inquired, his wings shifting slightly in preparation for possible conflict.
"By combat, of course," the leader replied, gesturing to his assembled forces. "Defeat us, and you earn an audience with Lord Vexior himself. Fail, and your souls strengthen our ranks."
Korvus assessed their opponents with his Observation Haki, gauging their strength. The leader was formidable, but the others seemed manageable.
"Very well," he said, sliding into a stance that prepared him to use any of his three breathing techniques as needed. "We accept your challenge."
The battle that followed was fierce but decisive. Korvus's newly developed Moon Breathing proved particularly effective against the armored demons, the shadow-enhanced strikes bypassing their protective gear to strike vulnerable flesh beneath. Roy's darkness manipulation complemented these attacks perfectly, confusing and disorienting the patrol while Korvus delivered precise strikes.
Within minutes, eight of the ten demons lay defeated, their souls absorbed by the victorious partners. Only the leader and his lieutenant remained, both wounded and wary.
"Enough," the leader growled, lowering his hammer. "You have proven your worth. Lord Vexior will want to meet you personally."
They were escorted deeper into the mountains, through winding passes and across narrow bridges spanning chasms of bubbling magma. Eventually, they reached a massive structure carved directly into the largest peak—a fortress of black stone veined with glowing red magma that served as both reinforcement and lighting.
Inside, they were led through grand halls populated by demons of various forms, all clearly more sophisticated than the chaotic entities of the lower plains. Eventually, they were brought to a vast throne room, where a truly imposing figure awaited.
Vexior the Unyielding was easily three times Korvus's height, with skin like cooling magma—black and cracked, with molten fire visible in the fissures. Six curved horns adorned his head in a crown-like formation, and his eyes burned with the intensity of twin suns.
"So," rumbled the mountain lord, his voice like stones grinding together, "these are the interlopers who defeated my border patrol. Come closer. Let me look at you."
Korvus and Roy approached the throne cautiously, alert for any sign of aggression. Korvus's Observation Haki was at full extension, trying to gauge the true extent of Vexior's power. What he sensed was sobering—the mountain lord's strength far exceeded their own, even combined.
"Interesting," Vexior mused, studying them with those burning eyes. "You are not typical demons of the hatching beaches. The wings, the elemental affinities, the coordinated fighting style... very unusual for ones so young."
He leaned forward, his massive hand gripping the armrest of his obsidian throne. "Tell me why you seek passage through my domain."
Korvus decided honesty—or at least partial honesty—was the wisest approach. "We search for knowledge and power beyond what the lower plains can offer. We heard rumors of special locations in the mountains—places where the boundaries between realms thin."
Vexior's eyes narrowed. "You speak of the Moon Altar."
The reaction confirmed what they had suspected—the altar existed, and Vexior knew of it. Korvus nodded. "If such a place exists, yes, we seek access to it."
A rumbling laugh escaped the mountain lord. "Many seek the Moon Altar. Few are worthy of approaching it." He studied them for a long moment before continuing. "But you have shown promise by defeating my patrol. Perhaps you deserve... an opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?" Roy asked cautiously.
"A simple choice," Vexior replied, his voice deceptively casual. "Pledge yourselves to my service for a century, and I will grant you supervised access to the Moon Altar when your loyalty is proven. Or..."
He gestured, and dozens of guards emerged from alcoves around the throne room, surrounding Korvus and Roy in a circle of spears and swords.
Vexior's mouth twisted in what might have been a smile. "Then you die here and now, surrounded by my elite guards with no hope of escape. Choose."
The chamber fell silent as every eye turned to Korvus and Roy, waiting for their response. Korvus took a moment to scan the room with his developing Observation Haki, assessing the threats that surrounded them. The guards were numerous and well-trained, but most concerning was Vexior himself, whose presence loomed in Korvus's perception like a blazing sun compared to the candle flames of his subordinates.
"Who would be your champion?" Roy asked, buying time for them to consider their options.
Vexior gestured to his right, where a figure stepped forward from the shadows. "Malakar, First Blade of the Moonshadow Guard."
The demon that approached was unlike the guards they had encountered thus far. Tall and lithe rather than bulky, with obsidian-black skin covered in silver markings that resembled constellations. His eyes were pure white, without pupil or iris, and he carried twin curved blades that seemed to drink in the light around them.
"Malakar has served as my champion for two centuries," Vexior explained with evident pride. "None who have faced him in formal combat have survived. But then, none have displayed the... unusual abilities you two seem to possess."
Korvus and Roy exchanged a glance, a silent communication passing between them. Fighting their way out would be a last resort—they were powerful, but not powerful enough to defeat Vexior and his entire court. Accepting the challenge would at least give them a chance, and potentially access to the Moon Altar they sought.
"We accept," Korvus declared. "But on one condition—we fight together, as partners, not individually."
Murmurs rippled through the assembled demons, and Vexior's eyes narrowed. "Two against one? That hardly seems sporting."
"You said yourself that Malakar has never been defeated in single combat," Roy pointed out. "And we are likely weaker individually than many he has faced before. Consider it... an interesting variation. Surely your champion isn't afraid of facing two lesser opponents simultaneously?"
It was a calculated appeal to pride, and judging by the way Malakar straightened, his white eyes flashing with indignation, it had struck home.
"I fear no challenge, my lord," Malakar stated, his voice surprisingly melodious for a demon. "Let them both come at once. It will merely hasten their defeat."
Vexior considered for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Two against one. The combat will take place in the Obsidian Arena, one hour from now." He gestured, and several guards moved forward. "These will escort you to prepare. Do not attempt to flee or fight—the consequences would be... unpleasant."
As they were led from the throne room, Korvus maintained a passive expression despite the tension coiling in his gut. They had bought themselves time and a fighting chance, but the challenge ahead was formidable.
"Did you sense his power?" Roy murmured as they followed their escorts through winding passages deeper into the mountain.
"Yes," Korvus replied quietly. "Malakar is significantly stronger than any demon we've faced thus far. And there's something about those blades he carries..."
"They consume light," Roy observed. "Possibly darkness manipulation, similar to my abilities but more refined. If so, your fire techniques might be more effective than your newly developed Moon Breathing."
Korvus nodded thoughtfully. "We'll need a strategy. Coordination. He's likely fought countless individual opponents, but perhaps not teams that work together effectively."
"Divide his attention, create openings for each other," Roy agreed. "But we'll need to be unpredictable. A warrior of his experience will adapt quickly to patterns."
They fell silent as their escorts showed them into a small but well-appointed chamber—apparently a preparation room for those about to enter combat in the arena. Weapons lined the walls, and a pool of what appeared to be healing liquid bubbled gently in one corner.
"You have one hour," the lead guard informed them curtly before withdrawing with his companions, sealing the door behind them.
Once alone, Korvus immediately began to prepare himself mentally and physically. He sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes and focusing on his breathing, cycling through the patterns for Flame Breathing, Thunder Breathing, and his newly developed Moon Breathing. Each had strengths and weaknesses, each would have its place in the coming battle.
Meanwhile, Roy examined the weapons on the walls with casual interest, though both knew he would rely on his natural weapons—his claws, tail, and darkness manipulation—rather than any external tool.
"What do you think happens if we win?" Roy asked after several minutes of silence.
Korvus opened his eyes. "Best case? Vexior honors his word and grants us access to the Moon Altar. Worst case? He views us as threats and orders his guards to eliminate us regardless."
"And the realistic case?"
"Something in between," Korvus surmised. "He allows us to live and grants some access to the altar, but with significant restrictions and constant supervision. He seems like the type to respect strength but distrust potential rivals."
Roy nodded. "Then we need to be impressive enough to earn respect, but not so threatening that he decides we're too dangerous to keep around."
"A delicate balance," Korvus agreed. "But first, we need to survive Malakar." He rose to his feet, stretching his limbs. "I've been thinking about a strategy..."
They spent the remaining time planning, discussing Malakar's likely techniques based on what they had observed and the knowledge they had gained from absorbed souls. By the time their escorts returned to lead them to the arena, they had developed a comprehensive approach with multiple contingencies.
The Obsidian Arena proved to be exactly what its name suggested—a circular fighting pit roughly fifty meters in diameter, with walls and floor of polished black stone. Tiered seating surrounded it, already filled with demon spectators from Vexior's court and representatives from the various mountain clans. Vexior himself sat on an elevated throne overlooking the arena, his massive form dominating the space.
Malakar already stood in the center of the arena, his twin blades held casually at his sides. He watched with those disconcerting white eyes as Korvus and Roy were led to the opposite side of the circle.
"The rules are simple," announced a demon herald standing beside Vexior's throne. "Combat continues until surrender or death. No interference from outside the arena is permitted. Lord Vexior's judgment is final in all matters."
With that terse explanation, the herald gestured for the combat to begin. The guards escorting Korvus and Roy withdrew, leaving them facing Malakar across the expanse of black stone.
"Remember the plan," Korvus murmured to Roy. "Don't rush."
"I know," Roy replied, his wings spreading slightly in preparation. "Patience."
Malakar made no immediate move to attack, instead studying them with a calculating gaze. "Interesting," he said after a moment. "You are not typical low-rank demons. The wings, the elemental affinities... rare traits for ones so young."
"We'll take that as a compliment," Korvus replied, beginning to circle slowly to the right while Roy moved to the left, separating to force Malakar to divide his attention.
"It was merely an observation," Malakar responded coolly. "Rarity does not equate to effectiveness in combat."
Without warning, he moved—and his speed was shocking. One moment he stood in the center of the arena, the next he was directly in front of Roy, blades flashing in a complex pattern that would have decapitated a less prepared opponent. Roy reacted with instinctive speed, darkness gathering around his claws to form protective gauntlets that caught and deflected the blades. The impact still forced him back several steps, the strength behind Malakar's strikes far exceeding what his relatively slender frame suggested.
Korvus seized the opportunity created by Malakar's focus on Roy, launching into a Flame Breathing technique. "Fourth Form: Blooming Flame Undulation!"
Fire erupted from his claws in a spiral pattern, racing toward Malakar's exposed back. But the champion seemed to sense the attack without seeing it, pivoting smoothly away from Roy and bringing his blades up in a crossing pattern that somehow split the flames, dispersing them harmlessly to either side.
"Impressive reflexes," Malakar acknowledged. "But predictable tactics."
He counter-attacked with frightening precision, one blade extended toward Korvus while the other maintained pressure on Roy. The blade aimed at Korvus seemed to extend, darkness flowing from its edge to increase its reach unexpectedly. Korvus barely managed to dodge, the darkness-extended blade slicing a shallow cut across his chest. It burned with unnatural cold, the wound immediately numbing—some property of the blade inhibiting his natural healing.
"First blood," Malakar noted dispassionately. "There will be much more before we're done."
He spun in a fluid motion, blades whirling around him in an expanding sphere of darkness that forced both Korvus and Roy to retreat. The darkness persisted after the blades passed, lingering in the air like a fog that obscured vision and seemed to dampen sound.
"He's creating an environment that favors him," Korvus called to Roy, having to raise his voice to be heard through the dampening effect of the darkness. "We need to counter it."
Roy nodded, gathering darkness of his own around his hands. "On it. Keep him busy."
Korvus immediately shifted to Thunder Breathing, electricity crackling along his limbs. "Second Form: Lightning Pursuit!"
His speed dramatically increased, allowing him to dash through the expanding darkness toward Malakar. Electricity discharged with each movement, briefly illuminating sections of the darkened arena and giving Roy glimpses of their opponent's position.
Malakar met Korvus's charge with perfect composure, his blades moving in precise arcs to intercept each electrified strike. The two exchanged a flurry of blows, moving at speeds that would have been difficult for ordinary demons to follow. Korvus's electricity and Malakar's darkness-enhanced blades created a spectacular display of light and shadow, drawing appreciative murmurs from the spectators.
Meanwhile, Roy was systematically clearing sections of the arena, his own darkness manipulation absorbing and dissipating Malakar's lingering fog. It was slow work—Malakar's control over darkness was more refined—but gradually, visibility in the arena improved.
Sensing this, Malakar disengaged from Korvus with a powerful slash that forced him to leap backward, then turned his attention to Roy. "An interesting ability you possess," he called out. "But ultimately futile."
He raised one blade high, then brought it down in a vertical slash that seemed to tear the very fabric of reality. A rift of pure darkness opened, expanding rapidly toward Roy.
"Roy, dodge!" Korvus shouted, recognizing the destructive potential of the technique.
Roy launched himself skyward, wings beating powerfully, barely avoiding the rift as it passed beneath him. Where it touched the arena floor, the obsidian stone cracked and frosted over with a layer of black ice.
"Impressive mobility," Malakar commented, watching Roy's aerial maneuver. "But the air offers no true escape."
He leaped upward with shocking force, rising to meet Roy in midair. His blades flashed, forcing Roy into a desperate aerial evasion, wings contorting to change direction with minimal warning.
Korvus seized the opportunity provided by Malakar's focus on Roy. Closing his eyes briefly, he shifted to his newly developed Moon Breathing, drawing power from the ambient darkness that still lingered in portions of the arena.
"First Form: Dark Moon Evening Dusk," he murmured, the patterns on his skin beginning to emit a silver-white glow that contrasted sharply with the surrounding darkness.
He moved with the fluid grace characteristic of the technique, approaching Malakar from below as the champion continued his aerial assault on Roy. The shadows extending from Korvus's claws reached upward, grasping for Malakar's ankles.
At the last possible moment, Malakar sensed the attack. He disengaged from Roy and twisted in midair, slashing downward to intercept the shadowy tendrils. But something unexpected happened—instead of dispersing, Korvus's shadows seemed to merge with Malakar's blades, momentarily disrupting the champion's control over his weapons.
Malakar's white eyes widened in surprise as he dropped back to the arena floor, his landing less graceful than his previous movements.
"Moon Breathing," he said, genuine astonishment in his voice. "Where did one such as you learn that technique?"
Korvus didn't respond, pressing his advantage with another Moon Breathing form. "Third Form: Loathsome Moon, Chains of Darkness!"
Shadows erupted from the arena floor around Malakar, forming into chains that sought to bind his limbs. The champion slashed at them with his blades, but the shadows seemed partially resistant to his cutting techniques, reforming after being severed.
"Interesting," Malakar acknowledged, a new respect entering his voice. "You've adapted the technique to your own nature rather than merely imitating. Perhaps this will be a worthwhile challenge after all."
He suddenly stomped one foot against the arena floor, sending a shockwave of dark energy outward that disrupted Korvus's shadow chains. Then, with renewed focus, he launched a coordinated assault on both opponents simultaneously, his speed and precision allowing him to engage both despite their efforts to maintain separation.
For several minutes, the three combatants moved in a deadly dance across the arena. Malakar remained the superior individual fighter, his centuries of experience evident in every move, but Korvus and Roy gradually found their rhythm as a team. When one was pressured, the other would create a diversion. When Malakar focused his deadliest techniques on one target, the other would force him to divide his attention.
The spectators watched in growing excitement as the battle continued far longer than most had anticipated. Even Vexior leaned forward on his throne, his fiery eyes narrowed in concentration as he studied the fighting styles of the challengers.
Despite their coordinated efforts, however, Korvus and Roy were slowly being worn down. Both had accumulated multiple wounds from Malakar's blades—none immediately life-threatening, but the cumulative effect was taking its toll. The numbing property of the wounds further complicated matters, making movements increasingly difficult as the fight progressed.
"We need to end this soon," Korvus called to Roy during a brief moment when they had both managed to gain some distance from Malakar. "We're reaching our limits."
Roy nodded grimly, blood flowing from a deep cut on his shoulder. "Time for the contingency plan?"
"Yes. On my signal."
They had prepared for this possibility—that standard tactics wouldn't be sufficient against an opponent of Malakar's caliber. The contingency plan was risky, potentially leaving them vulnerable, but if successful, it might create the single clear opening they needed.
Korvus stepped forward, facing Malakar directly. "Your skill is as impressive as your reputation suggests," he called out, intentionally projecting his voice so all in the arena could hear. "But I wonder—have you ever faced a technique that combines multiple elements simultaneously?"
Malakar tilted his head slightly, curiosity evident despite his otherwise impassive demeanor. "Few demons can truly master even a single element. Those who claim multiple affinities typically dilute their power rather than enhancing it."
"Then allow me to demonstrate something different," Korvus replied, beginning a complex breathing pattern that merged aspects of all three of his breathing techniques.
The patterns across his skin began to glow with multiple colors simultaneously—orange-red, electric blue, and silver-white. The three energies swirled around him in a spectacular display, drawing gasps from the spectators.
"Elemental Synchronization," Korvus announced, naming the technique he had discovered following hibernation. "Final Form: Catastrophic Convergence!"
The energies surrounding him intensified, becoming almost blinding in their brilliance. Fire, lightning, and darkness merged into a single devastating force that Korvus directed toward Malakar in a concentrated beam.
The champion raised his blades in a defensive cross, clearly recognizing the danger of the technique. The combined elemental energy struck his defense with tremendous force, pushing him backward across the arena floor, his feet carving furrows in the obsidian stone.
But Malakar did not fall. His blades somehow absorbed a significant portion of the energy, their edges glowing with captured power. Though visibly strained, he maintained his stance, gradually pushing back against the onslaught.
"Impressive," he acknowledged through gritted teeth. "But ultimately futile. No technique, however flashy, can overcome centuries of combat experience."
Korvus maintained the attack, pouring more energy into it, deliberately drawing Malakar's complete attention. This was the opening they had planned for.
Roy, who had been circling behind during this exchange, suddenly launched himself forward with explosive speed. Instead of attacking Malakar directly, however, he aimed for the ground directly beneath the champion's feet. His darkness-enhanced claws struck the obsidian floor with tremendous force, sending a focused shockwave through the stone.
The floor beneath Malakar cracked, momentarily disrupting his perfect stance. In that instant of imbalance, Korvus altered his technique, redirecting the combined elemental energy into a more focused, lance-like projection that bypassed Malakar's blades entirely.
The lance of energy struck Malakar in the chest, blasting him backward into the arena wall with enough force to crack the obsidian surface. His blades flew from his hands, clattering to the floor several meters away.
Before he could recover, Roy and Korvus converged on his position, each grabbing one of the fallen blades and holding them crossed at Malakar's throat.
"Yield," Korvus commanded, the elemental energies still swirling around him, ready to be unleashed again if necessary.
The arena fell into stunned silence. No one, perhaps not even Korvus and Roy themselves, had truly expected them to gain this advantage over Vexior's champion.
Malakar's white eyes fixed on Korvus, then shifted to Roy, assessing. After a long moment, he inclined his head slightly.
"I yield," he stated clearly, his voice carrying through the silent arena. "The victory is yours."
A collective gasp ran through the spectators, followed by excited murmurs that quickly grew in volume. Vexior rose from his throne, his expression unreadable as he gazed down at the scene before him.
Korvus and Roy maintained their positions, keeping the blades at Malakar's throat while watching Vexior carefully. This was the moment of truth—would the demon lord honor his word, or would he view their victory as a threat to be eliminated?
After what seemed an eternity, Vexior raised one massive hand, and the arena fell silent once more.
"An unexpected outcome," he rumbled, his fiery gaze fixed on Korvus and Roy. "Few have ever challenged Malakar and lived. None before you have defeated him."
He paused, then continued. "A bargain was made. Victory would earn you access to the Moon Altar under my supervision. I am... a demon of my word."
Relief washed through Korvus, though he maintained his guard. They had passed the first hurdle, but the situation remained delicate.
"Lower your weapons," Vexior commanded. "Malakar fought with honor. Extend him the same courtesy in defeat."
After a moment's hesitation, Korvus and Roy complied, stepping back and allowing Malakar to rise. The champion retrieved his blades from them without comment, though there was a new respect in his white eyes as he inclined his head slightly toward them before returning to Vexior's side.
"You have earned the right to approach the Moon Altar," Vexior declared. "Rest and recover tonight. Tomorrow, you will be escorted to the extinct volcano where it resides."
His eyes narrowed. "Be warned—while I grant you this access as promised, you remain within my domain. Any attempt to abuse this privilege will result in consequences far more severe than facing a single champion in combat."
With that clear threat delivered, Vexior turned and left the arena, his court following behind him. Guards approached to escort Korvus and Roy back to their preparation chamber, which would apparently serve as their quarters for the night.
Once alone, they allowed themselves to relax slightly, the tension of combat gradually releasing.
"That," Roy said, wincing as he examined a particularly deep cut on his arm, "was too close."
"Agreed," Korvus replied, easing himself onto a bench as the accumulated injuries from the fight made themselves fully known. "Malakar was everything his reputation suggested and more. If our coordination had been even slightly off..."
"But it wasn't," Roy pointed out. "We worked together effectively. And your Elemental Synchronization provided the distraction we needed."
Korvus nodded, though he was already analyzing the technique's performance. "It's powerful but draining. I couldn't have maintained it much longer than I did. And against a different opponent, one who didn't rely on weapons that could absorb energy..."
"Always the perfectionist," Roy observed with a tired smile. "We won, Korvus. We earned our shot at the Moon Altar. Let's enjoy that victory, at least for a moment, before we start planning our next move."
Korvus conceded the point with a nod. They had achieved their immediate objective—access to the altar they sought. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new possibilities. For now, they needed to rest and recover.
As he settled back, allowing his body's enhanced healing to begin addressing his wounds, Korvus reflected on how far they had come since hatching on that magma beach. From newly born demons struggling for basic survival to warriors capable of defeating a champion with centuries of experience—their evolution had been remarkable.
And yet, he sensed they had barely scratched the surface of their potential. The Essence of the Blank meant his capacity to learn and adapt was limitless. His Observation Haki was developing rapidly, Moon Breathing had proven effective even in its early stages, and Elemental Synchronization offered possibilities he had only begun to explore.
What might they become with continued growth? What powers might they discover through the Moon Altar and the other realms it connected to?
For the first time since his reincarnation in this hellish world, Korvus felt something beyond mere determination to survive. He felt genuine excitement for the future—for the possibilities that awaited them beyond the next horizon.
"Rest well," he said to Roy, who was already settling into a comfortable position across the chamber. "Tomorrow, we reach the altar."
"And then," Roy replied with a gleam in his eye, "we see what lies beyond."
The possibilities were endless, the dangers immense. But they would face them together, two reincarnated souls defying the natural order of the demon realm with every step they took. The hunt was evolving into something greater—a quest for knowledge, for power, for understanding of the vast multiverse that apparently existed beyond the boundaries of their current reality.
And Korvus couldn't wait to see what lay on the other side of that threshold.