I stared at Celes's lifeless body. My breathing was heavy, filled with anger, betrayal, and a strange, instinctive hunger.
My hand touched her chest, covered in warm blood.
"I don't know what happened to me... but if this is my destiny as a demon, then I will enjoy it to the fullest."
I leaned in, smelling the scent of blood and weakening holy magic. But instead of consuming her, I slowly drew out her life force. The radiance of light on her body faded.
Celes's body slowly withered. Her skin cracked, her eyes hollow, and the once-bright light was now reduced to brittle ashes. I stood over her, my breathing slow but full of satisfaction, like a beast that had just asserted its position at the top of the food chain.
I turned to Zereth, who stood in the shadows, watching everything with glowing red eyes filled with respect and anticipation.
"I need to train for a while," I said quietly, but firmly. My voice echoed in the silent stone hallway, vibrating the air like a curse. "This body, it's still not fit for combat."
Zereth nodded, one hand touching his chest in a gesture of respect. "We have prepared the deepest chamber, where the demonic power has long been sealed. There, you can unite with your true self."
I stared at my palm. The faint traces of Celes's light magic still burned my skin, but the pain was fading, replaced by a dark power slowly rising from within me.
"Then, take me there," I whispered. "Before the other heroes realize I've torn their last hope."
Zereth smiled cruelly. "With pleasure, my lord."
We stepped into deeper darkness, where the world would begin to lose its hope—a holy light in Celes's form had been extinguished. And I wasn't satisfied yet.
We walked down a mossy stone corridor that breathed like dead flesh. The light of black torches burned from the walls, not with fire, but with a dark flame that whispered despair into the ears of all who approached.
The building loomed before us, its shape like a hall of darkness once seen in mortal nightmares. Massive pillars made of ancient dragon bones support a ceiling covered in carvings of forbidden rituals. Inside, rows of weapons hang silently, as if awaiting their rightful owners.
A three-edged sword, an axe with a curved edge like a demon's fang, a bloody scythe that seemed to still drip with soul energy—all radiated a bloodthirsty aura. But my eyes were fixed on one object.
A gauntlet.
The black metal was no ordinary iron; it was Erebium, a metal forged only in the belly of an ancient demon. The gauntlet's fingertips were shaped like claws, and dark red veins pulsed along the metal arm, as if alive and hungry.
I stepped closer, staring intently at it.
"That gauntlet, once worn by the first Dark Lord," Zereth whispered, his voice like that of a sinner worshipping a heretical god. "It is said that the gauntlet consumed the hand of its previous owner, replacing their flesh with pure darkness."
My hand moved slowly, touching it.
The gauntlet moved on its own. Its metal claws grabbed my hand, and before I could pull it away—
click.
The ancient sound of binding rang out. It felt like being pierced by hundreds of needles. My veins, muscles, and bones were forcibly fused with the gauntlet. I winced, but didn't scream.
Pain was part of strength.
Then something inside me awoke. The gauntlet wasn't just a weapon; it was an entity. I could feel it speaking, not with voice, but with intent.
[Hunger.Give me more sacred flesh.Give me the hope of being devoured]
I smiled savagely.
"Don't worry, I'll give you more than that."
Zereth bowed, and the shadows around us trembled. Beyond the hall, the screams of creatures long imprisoned could be heard. They would be my first meal, training to perfect this symbiosis.
"Zereth, release all the creatures in here. I want to have some fun."
A wide smile spread across my face, not a happy smile, but one that even a demon would hesitate to return.
Zereth bowed low.
"Of course, My Lord."
He snapped his fingers.
The air instantly thickened. The walls of the hall trembled, cracks spreading like black veins. The stone gates along the passageway opened one by one, and from them, creatures poured out.
Ten. Twenty. Fifty. One hundred. Two hundred demons poured out.
Their bodies towered, muscular, winged, fanged, some crawling, some floating. Some had coiled horns, some metal skin, and some had no faces, just holes through which dense, dark energy flowed like blood.
Their auras crashed against me like storm waves. Cruel. Savage. Chaotic. But
For some reason, my body awaited them.
My breathing became heavy, not from fear, but from the hunger within me that began to burn from within. The gauntlet on my arm beat—no, throbbed—like a second heart thirsting for chaos.
"Yes, they are coming."
"Give me battle. Let me tear apart their hopes."
"Let me crush their bones with your hands."
My feet stepped forward. The sound of my footsteps echoed. The demons gnashed their fangs, and some charged.
And I laughed.
Not the laughter of a human. But the laughter of a creature that had killed the light within itself.
I struck the first demon with my gauntlet, my hand piercing its chest, ripping out its flaming heart. Black blood gushed, and I greeted it with a look of satisfaction.
One by one, they attacked.
I danced among them. Not with technique but with the instinct of slaughter. The gauntlet clawed, crushed, tore. Each kill made it heavier—not from fatigue, but from satiety.
Zereth stood quietly behind, watching like a proud servant watching his king play with a corpse.
"It's beautiful, meaningless slaughter. That's absolute beauty," he whispered.
I raised my right hand. The gauntlet glowed with a blood-red glow from within, and suddenly.
BOOM.
A single blast of darkness swept away thirty demons at once. Only dust and clumps of flesh remained.
My breath was ragged. But my smile remained.
"Come on!!!!" I said softly, my voice hoarse with bloodlust.
"Come on, everyone! Show me if you're worthy of my destruction?"
The remaining demons from the explosion rampaged. They tore, chewed, and devoured my body with burning hatred. But I didn't flinch.
Every bite, every wound, only made me stronger.
I fought for ten hours in a sea of blood and scattered flesh. My body was covered in wounds, but a wide smile never left my face. This pain was a pleasure.
And now only one remained.
A female demon, standing proudly amidst a pool of blood. Her skin was pale blue, a chill surrounding her like a cursed mist. She wielded double axes, frozen with a deadly aura.
She was a master of the art of axe fighting, her skills nearly reaching the grandmaster level.
Her name was Selena.
I looked at her and said in a hoarse voice filled with battle intent,
"You are very strong, and from now on, you are my War Bringer."