The Mid-Tier Demon levitated high above the shattered magic circle, its massive body suspended unnaturally in the air as dark crimson energy spiraled around it like smoke from a burning world. The arena beneath it had already transford into sothing unrecognizable — the underground tournant grounds that had once been filled with shouting spectators and bloodthirsty fighters now looked like the opening scene of an apocalypse.
Screams echoed endlessly.
Bodies littered the ground.
The sll of blood mixed with burning mana saturated the air so heavily that every breath felt thick.
The demon slowly turned its head, its glowing eyes staring down at the frozen humans beneath it. Its face stretched into a wide, feral grin, exposing rows of jagged teeth that looked more suited for tearing apart monsters than n.
Then hell truly began.
The demon vanished.
A sonic boom exploded across the arena floor as the creature reappeared in front of one of the participants — a massive fighter wielding twin axes who had survived the first round by brute strength alone. The man barely had ti to widen his eyes before a claw flashed through the air.
Three pieces.
That was all that remained of him.
The body separated instantly, blood spraying across the shattered stone floor while the demon caught the escaping soul with one clawed hand. The glowing spiritual essence struggled violently, screaming without sound.
The demon opened its mouth.
And swallowed it whole.
Its expression twisted into pure delight.
It laughed.
Not like a human.
Not like a beast.
It sounded like sothing ancient discovering entertainnt after centuries of boredom.
The participants finally snapped out of their paralysis.
Chaos erupted.
People ran in every direction at once, trampling over each other in desperation. So attempted flash steps only to slam into walls or collide with panicked fighters. Others activated magic recklessly, spells detonating throughout the arena without aim or purpose.
No one tried to fight the demon.
No one was stupid enough.
This wasn’t a monster they could overco through teamwork or determination. Every person present instinctively understood the truth the mont they felt its aura.
This thing stood on an entirely different level of existence.
I crouched behind a collapsed section of debris, keeping my breathing steady while watching the massacre unfold.
The demon tore through the arena like a natural disaster.
One fighter attempted to stab it from behind.
The demon caught the blade between two fingers.
Then crushed the fighter’s skull with its free hand.
Another tried to cast a large-scale fla spell.
The demon opened its mouth and swallowed the flas before ripping the caster apart from the waist upward.
Blood painted the arena walls.
Screams layered over each other endlessly.
And through all of it—
The overseers watched.
Outside the barrier surrounding the arena stood the mbers of the Velvet Gang overseeing the tournant. Their expensive coats fluttered slightly under the pressure of the demon’s aura while smug expressions rested on their faces.
They weren’t panicking.
They were smiling.
I narrowed my eyes beneath my mask.
"So that’s your ga," I muttered internally.
This wasn’t an accident.
The ritual circle.
The sacrifices.
The timing.
The tournant itself had simply been livestock preparation.
Nearly two hundred fighters gathered in one location, trapped inside a barrier while a demon harvested souls strong enough to accelerate its evolution.
The Velvet Gang wasn’t trying to stop this.
They planned it.
I slowly exhaled.
And then—
I smiled.
Because I knew sothing they didn’t.
The barrier wouldn’t hold.
Not against that thing.
Not against a Mid-Tier Demon already on the verge of evolving into a High-Tier.
Almost as if the world itself responded to my thoughts, the demon suddenly stopped moving.
Its glowing eyes slowly turned toward the barrier.
The overseers finally frowned.
The demon grinned wider.
Then it punched forward.
BOOM!!!
The entire underground base shook violently.
Cracks spread across the barrier instantly like shattered glass.
The smug expressions on the overseers’ faces disappeared.
"P-Prevent it!"
"Reinforce the array!"
"Hold the barrier!"
Panic finally entered their voices.
Too late.
The demon slamd its fist into the barrier a second ti.
CRASH!!!
The entire structure exploded apart into fragnts of light.
The shockwave tore through the arena, throwing bodies and rubble everywhere. Several overseers died instantly from the backlash alone.
The demon shot forward the mont the barrier collapsed.
One of the Velvet Gang mbers barely managed to turn around before the demon grabbed him by the head.
Then devoured him whole.
Crunch.
Blood poured from between the creature’s teeth.
Its aura exploded outward violently.
Dark energy spiraled around its body in waves powerful enough to distort the air itself.
It was growing stronger.
Fast.
"Ha ha ha HAHAHAHA!"
The demon floated higher into the air, spreading its arms wide like a king greeting his kingdom.
"I WILL DESTROY THIS WORLD!"
Its voice shook the entire underground complex.
Buildings above us trembled.
Stone cracked apart.
I sighed quietly beneath the rubble where I was hiding.
"That’s what every demon says before they eventually get killed," I thought.
Honestly, demons lacked creativity.
Every single one of them either wanted to destroy the world, conquer humanity, or consu everything alive. After hearing it repeatedly through countless playthroughs, the speeches started sounding repetitive.
Still—
This one was dangerous enough that mocking it internally was the safest option available.
I slowly crawled out from beneath the debris while the demon continued rampaging through the upper levels of the base.
Around , the Velvet Gang mbers were trapped in an endless cycle.
Fight the demon.
Lose.
Run away.
Get caught.
Repeat.
So attempted coordinated attacks only to get slaughtered instantly. Others abandoned their comrades entirely in hopes of escaping first.
None of it mattered.
The demon was too strong.
And more importantly—
Its attention wasn’t on .
Perfect.
I moved carefully through the destruction, keeping my presence suppressed while the chaos above masked my movents completely. Every explosion from the demon’s attacks caused dust and rubble to rain from the ceiling.
The underground base was collapsing.
Good.
That ant fewer guards.
I followed the path from mory.
Most people assud the Velvet Gang’s treasures would be stored in heavily guarded vaults near the center of their headquarters.
Wrong.
The hidden branch connected to the tournant grounds was built beneath the base itself.
A secondary layer.
A place only high-ranking mbers knew existed.
I reached a shattered stairway leading downward into darkness.
No guards.
No security arrays.
No one left alive to defend it.
I descended slowly.
The sounds of destruction above beca distant the deeper I traveled underground. Eventually only faint tremors remained, accompanied by muffled screams echoing through the stone corridors.
The basent looked ancient compared to the modern structure above.
The walls were wooden instead of stone.
Paper lanterns lined the hallways.
Japanese architecture.
Exactly like the ga described.
My footsteps slowed.
Because this place felt wrong.
Not dangerous.
Sacred.
Like stepping into a place untouched by ti itself.
At the end of the hallway stood a single door.
It resembled a traditional Japanese sliding household door, plain and almost unimpressive compared to everything surrounding it.
Yet the pressure leaking from behind it felt heavier than the demon above.
I stared at it silently.
Then stepped forward.
The mont my hand touched the door—
The world shifted.
The floor beneath vanished instantly.
My eyes widened.
"What—"
I fell.
Not downward through a room.
Downward through endless darkness.
Wind roared past my ears while gravity dragged deeper into whatever hidden dinsion existed beyond the door. My body spun uncontrollably as fragnts of light drifted around like stars.
"Where am I?" I thought.
Then suddenly—
Impact.
BOOM!
I crashed hard against solid ground, pain shooting through my entire body before I rolled several tis across cold stone.
For a mont I simply lay there staring upward.
The sky above wasn’t a sky.
It looked like outer space itself.
Countless stars stretched endlessly overhead while silver moonlight illuminated the massive landscape around .
I slowly pushed myself upright.
And froze.
A figure stood several ters ahead of .
A man.
Tall.
Wearing ancient black robes trimd with silver patterns resembling crescent moons. Long dark hair flowed behind him despite the absence of wind.
In his hand rested a blade.
The pressure radiating from him was overwhelming.
Not because of brute strength.
But because of refinent.
Perfection.
Every movent felt sharp enough to cut reality itself.
The man slowly opened his eyes.
Silver.
Cold.
Absolute.
Then he raised his sword.
"First Style," he said calmly.
The mont the blade moved, the world itself seed to dim.
"Celestial Moon Style."
He took a single step forward.
The sword arced through the air gracefully.
A massive crescent-shaped moon blade ford instantly from silver energy, splitting the heavens themselves as it flew forward with impossible elegance.
My eyes widened.
Because instinct scread one thing at imdiately.
If that attack reaches —
I die.
User Comments
0 comments from readers