Arzael arrived,The air here felt heavy and scorching, pressing against his lungs with every breath.
Thin wisps of smoke slipped out from the Gatewalk behind him, twisting for a moment like a snake reluctant to leave, before vanishing without a trace, swallowed by the sulfur-thick air.
His eyes swept across the field before him: cracked crimson earth, rivers of lava flowing in the distance, and a sky burning in dark orange, as if dawn would never come.
"Time to grow stronger again," he murmured, his voice low but firm, barely audible over the roar of heat.
Status
Level: 18
HP: 850
MP: 550
EXP: 180/500
A notification window appeared before him, hovering in the sweltering air.
[Quest Accepted: Kill 20 Demons. Reward: Special Skill]
Arzael narrowed his eyes.
"You should've asked for my permission first," he said, his tone as cold as a blade kept in ice.
[System: Quest is mandatory.]
He raised an eyebrow.
"And if I refuse, what will you do?" he challenged, his voice carrying a measured arrogance.
[System: Penalty.]
"Huh? It's talking back?" Arzael was slightly surprised, the corner of his lips curling faintly. But the surprise faded quickly, leaving only a calm, icy demeanor.
He let out a short breath, tinged with sulfur dust.
"Fine… as long as it benefits me, I don't care." His gaze returned to the notification window.
"Only twenty, huh?"
But that calm shattered with the sound of footsteps, heavy and fast, coming from all directions.
The ground trembled, dust and pebbles quivering. Twisted shadows crept through the heat-haze, their forms blurry but their threat unmistakable.
…Too fast.
The first four silhouettes emerged from the haze: Lesser Demons, their charred, volcanic skin split with glowing red cracks.
Their eyes burned like embers, and their split grins revealed broken teeth and forked tongues, hissing like feral beasts.
"—Tch." Arzael raised his hand.
[Inventory Accessed]
[Equipping: Crimson Edge]
The air in front of him split open, and from an invisible rift emerged a long blade. Its dark-red edge looked like dried blood hardened over centuries. The hilt felt warm in his grip, almost pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Without hesitation, he drove the blade into his own side.
Pain spread like fire licking his bones, but along with it, power flooded into his muscles, making his strikes faster and heavier.
He moved.
The blade flashed, slicing through the first demon's neck. In a single fluid motion, its head was sent flying, black blood gushing and turning into steam as it touched the hot air.
"Crimson Edge cuts sharper after hitting level 2," he muttered, his lips curling faintly.
The second demon lunged, claws ready to tear his face apart. Arzael spun, cutting horizontally. The blade cleaved its belly open, splitting it in two.
The third came from the side, but Arzael was ready. He swung the sword in reverse, slicing from shoulder to waist.
The fourth tried to retreat, but Arzael stepped forward, thrusting his blade into its chest and dragging it downward, splitting it in half.
"Heh." His breathing stayed steady, even as black blood dripped from his blade.
In the distance, a smaller demon dashed away, trying to hide behind a stone pillar. Arzael raised his hand.
[Skill Activated: Blood Manifest Lv.1]
[+25% ATK for 15 seconds]
Blood from his wound rose into the air, solidifying into a dark-red arrow. He drew an blood bow, loosed it, and the arrow pierced through the fleeing demon's skull.
The ground trembled again.
A demon twice the size of a man charged forward, wielding a sharp bone spear. Arzael spun his blade.
[Skill Activated: Shadow Pierce Lv.1]
The Crimson Edge darkened, swallowing the surrounding light. He thrust, and the shadow of the strike extended, piercing the demon's chest. It collapsed, body crumbling into hot ash.
The remaining demons began to swarm from all sides. Arzael's lips curled in a faint smile.
"Good. Come at me."
Wave after wave crashed into him. He moved like a shadow within a sea of fire, slashing, thrusting, slaughtering. Every strike was a deadly dance, every kill like the ticking of an endless clock.
Once more, he activated Pain Conversion, stabbing himself to draw out more strength.
Two demons leapt at once, his blade cut one, his kick shattered the other's knee before his sword pierced its head.
+40 EXP
+40 EXP
[Level Up!]
+5 Stat Points
Lv: 19
HP: 900/900
MP: 570/570
EXP: 0/600
A new surge of power coursed through his veins, but he didn't stop. Four more demons fell, one after another, until the heat-haze was filled with blackened corpses.
The blood on the ground trembled, gathering around him.
[Skill Activated: Blood Manifest Lv.1]
Four blood arrows formed, shooting in all directions, each one piercing a skull.
+40 EXP x4
EXP: 160/600
"This… is fun," he said, his tone dangerous.
The last roar came from behind him.
A towering demon, its skin glowing red and its body wreathed in flames, stood glaring with feral eyes. Stronger than the rest, its aura pressed down on the air itself.
"Heh~" Arzael grinned, then charged.
Blade met flaming claw, sparks of heat blinding. He activated Shadow Pierce again, but the creature blocked with brute force. Arzael spun, slicing off its wrist. The demon roared, countering with a burst of fire.
-90 HP
HP: 680/900
+20 EXP
The heat tore into his skin, but Arzael only grinned. Pain Conversion activated again, strength surging once more.
The Crimson Edge pierced the demon's heart. Black blood burst forth, and the giant collapsed.
EXP +80
[Quest Progress: 20/20 Demons killed]
The final notification appeared in the scorching air.
[Quest Completed!]
[Reward: Skill Acquired – Crimson Execution]
The Crimson Edge trembled in his grip, its tip reshaping into a spear-like fang, emanating a deep crimson aura that pulsed like a heartbeat awakening from a long slumber.
[Skill: Crimson Execution]
Description: A single slash that consumes HP and MP to deliver a finishing blow. Damage increases with the total HP/MP sacrificed.
"This skill… once again tied to pain," Arzael muttered, exhaling as his gaze swept over the field now littered with demon corpses, black smoke rising like a shroud of death.