Staring at the stone mound and sludge in front of him, Orsaga spread out his palm.
As a bloodline-based spell, it required no incantations or preparation. A searing, blood-red fireball roughly fifteen centiters in diater instantly ford between his hands, radiating intense heat and illuminating everything within the cave.
Whoosh!
With just a thought, the fireball launched itself, smashing directly into the barricade blocking the cave entrance.
BOOM!!
The explosion echoed like a bomb detonating within the cave. Flas burst outward in all directions, scattering glowing embers.
When Orsaga withdrew his magic and extinguished the flas, what remained was a gaping hole roughly three to four ters deep. Based on his mory from when he had sealed the passage, another blast should be enough to completely break through.
He conjured a second fireball—sa size, sa heat. But this ti, he didn't use Fireball Spell. Instead, he forcefully compressed his bloodfla into a spherical shape using pure ntal power.
BOOM!!
Another explosion resounded. As the flas died down, Orsaga assessed the results.
Roughly two ters deep—so of the barricade remained, but not much.
He didn't act imdiately. Instead, he compared the power and energy cost between using the fireball spell and manually compressing the bloodfla.
The raw compression thod produced about half the power of the proper fireball spell, but consud four tis as much energy—an eightfold difference in efficiency.
Afterward, he moved to a new location and tested out various spells and newly acquired innate abilities. He now had a clearer understanding of his current strength.
Sitting on the scorched, ruined ground, Orsaga recovered his stamina and mana. He licked his lips, a smile curling at the corners, then stood and began walking toward deeper parts of the forest.
The next phase of his plan: determine his place in the food chain of the Demonbone Forest.
---
A demon that resembled a werewolf clad in a chitinous shell struggled helplessly as its life force was drained away. Refusing to die quietly, it made a desperate attempt to fight back.
But how could Orsaga possibly allow that?
A weak, ragged screech was the only sound the demon managed before Orsaga's tail—which had already pierced through its chest and hoisted its body into the air—violently twisted. The superheated bloodfla burned through its organs from the inside, leaving them charred and disintegrated.
The creature died instantly.
Its rank was that of a minor Demon, slightly stronger than the monkey demon Orsaga had fought before.
But things were different now. Orsaga's strength had undergone a qualitative leap. Enemies that once required a hard-fought battle now posed no challenge at all.
From start to finish, he hadn't even raised a hand.
A single instant-cast bloodline spell—Soul Shock—staggered the enemy's mind. Then his tail pierced its chest, drained its life force, and left it suspended like dried at, completely helpless.
Orsaga casually tore off one of the corpse's arms. His mouth, once humanlike, split open nearly to his ears, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. He took a savage bite, tearing away a huge chunk of flesh.
Chewing on this grueso snack, he strolled lazily into the forest, tail dragging the mummified corpse behind him.
Eventually, he flung the dried husk into a nearby bush to feed the local flora. After all, whether demon or human, one should still care for the environnt.
---
Since leaving the cave, Orsaga had wandered for quite so ti. Along the way, he'd encountered over a dozen minor Demons, seven or eight Juvenile Demons, and more than a hundred corrupted creatures native to the Demonbone Forest.
Unlike demons, which were born of the Abyss, most of these corrupted beasts were descendants of otherworldly creatures that had found their way here for one reason or another.
Their offspring, having absorbed the mana of the Abyss, drunk its water, fed on its plants and flesh, had been thoroughly corrupted. No matter what their original natures were, they had all beco bloodthirsty and evil.
The corrupted creatures of the Demonbone Forest varied in strength. The strongest ones were probably around the Lesser Demon rank, while the weakest were beneath even the Juvenile Demons. However, they all shared one thing in common: high reproductive rates.
Without that, they'd have been wiped out long ago by the endless flood of demons.
But despite wandering for half a day, Orsaga hadn't encountered a single opponent at the Lesser Demon rank or above. His hopes of testing himself against one were thoroughly dashed.
---
Calmly stepping past a stone mound, his tail shot out like a bolt of lightning. It ignored the creature's attempt at optical camouflage and struck with surgical precision—piercing through the brain of a corrupted beast hiding within the stone pile.
For Orsaga, who could perceive energy signatures, stealth abilities were pointless—unless they surpassed his observation range or could specifically counteract energy vision. Otherwise, it was better to just hurl a basic fireball and enjoy the light show.
[ 77 Evolution Points]
He raised his head to the sky, now shrouded in darkness, and frowned.
"Too slow."
Compared to the riverbanks, where demons clashed in chaotic, all-out brawls and anything that moved could be slaughtered, the Demonbone Forest felt like a vast hunting ground. Danger didn't co from what you could see—but what you couldn't.
Sky, trees, ground, grass, underground—predators lurked everywhere. Hidden and patient, they waited for a fatal opportunity. Even a step into the mud could trigger an ambush from venomous bugs. Even the flowers might spew toxins and lash out with deadly tendrils.
The difference was stark.
One setting honed a demon's ability to engage in direct confrontation.
The other sharpened cruelty and cunning—teaching demons to beco master hunters, able to adapt and kill under all circumstances.
This gradual thod was undeniably useful. It produced demons who were not only strong in battle but adept at surviving and conquering foreign realms.
But for Orsaga, this presented a problem.
He didn't need to learn slowly. He only needed to kill. Every kill gave him evolution points, which could be used to improve anything about himself. The skirmish-style hide-and-seek tactics of the forest were inefficient for his needs.
It was like trying to farm XP by chasing cockroaches.
He'd considered setting the forest ablaze—one big BBQ session—but ultimately gave up on the idea.
While his bloodfla could burn magical plants, those plants themselves held mana and resisted burning to so extent. With constant mana input, they could be destroyed, but once the magic stopped, the fire died quickly. There was no way to spread a full-on forest fire.
And even if he did burn them all… he'd still have to track down each soul afterward.
Completely impractical. By the ti he got there, soone else would've already reaped the benefits.
This highlighted one of his current shortcomings: he had no ability to collect souls on a large scale or from a distance. Sure, he could burn souls to ash, but harvesting them? Not yet. At most, he could bind them one at a ti using mana and soul power.
According to his inherited mories, most standard demons needed to reach the Lesser Demon rank before they could harvest souls from afar—and even then, only from weaker targets. Stronger souls fought back.
To claim powerful souls, demons typically used three thods:
1. Beat the target to death and harvest directly.
2. Trick them into signing a contract, then claim the soul through magical enforcent.
3. Corrupt them until they beca mindless thralls—then collect as if they were livestock.
---
Now, two paths stretched out before Orsaga.
One: wait for soone in another world to attempt a summoning. He could respond through a contract, piggyback into the mortal realm, and cause chaos before being banished.
The catch? He had no idea who'd be doing the summoning—or what the situation would be. If he popped into existence only to find himself inside a magic circle surrounded by wizards with scalpels… well, that'd be problematic.
Plenty of demons got rich through interworld summonings.
Plenty more got dissected into rare alchemical ingredients.
It was a gamble. High risk, high reward. Orsaga wasn't ready to roll those dice just yet.
The second option: stay in the Demonbone Forest. Slower, yes—but safer. Most enemies here wouldn't exceed the Lesser Demon rank. Even if he lost a fight, he could still escape—unless he got surrounded and ganged up on.
After three seconds of deep contemplation, Orsaga made his brave decision.
He would stick to the Demonbone Forest for now.
Charging headlong into danger and dying before he got a chance to shine? Not ideal.
Sure, his demonic nature thirsted for blood, destruction, and chaos. But the mories of his past human life whispered in the back of his mind: Use your head. It never hurts to think things through.
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