2: Explosive Strength

Chapter 2: Explosive Strength

Damon stood before the mirror, the soft morning light streaming in through the open windows of his room. He could feel the growing anticipation bubbling within him as he prepared for the awakening ceremony—a pivotal milestone marking his tenth year, the day when the essence of his bloodline would be unveiled. His reflection revealed a boy with strikingly sharp features, his stature far exceeding that of his peers. At just ten years old, he carried himself with the aura and physicality of someone much older.

A grin tugged at his lips as he adjusted his tunic. "Emily! We'll be late if you keep dawdling!" he called out, dashing down the hall toward his sister's room with a boyish exuberance.

His words were met with a swift response—a slipper hurtling through the air, narrowly missing his head. "Must you always barge in like that?" Emily's voice rang out, laced with playful annoyance. She emerged moments later, radiant and confident, her presence commanding attention. At twenty, Emily was already a formidable force, her mastery over abyssal summoning a feat that earned her both fear and admiration.

Damon chuckled, brushing off the near miss with ease. "And here I thought siblings were meant to support each other."

Downstairs, their mother, Dora, greeted him with a warm smile. She gestured for him to sit as she deftly tied his long black hair into a warrior's braid. "You seem unusually excited today, Damon. Just remember, don't cause too much trouble for your sister."

"I never cause trouble," he replied with mock indignation, his smirk betraying the truth of her concerns.

Emily scoffed from the doorway, her arms crossed. "If only that were true."

With final preparations complete, the siblings set off from the manor. Their grandfather, Thomas, waved them off from the beast pens, his sturdy frame towering over the herd of creatures he tended. Among the herd was the Mist Eater, a sly raven-like beast known for its uncanny ability to vanish without a trace.

As they traveled toward the outskirts of Martlock, Damon's sharp eyes caught sight of his father observing them from the battle training hall. A subtle nod passed between them—a quiet acknowledgment and bond that needed no words.

"Why do you always walk around with that unshakable confidence?" Emily asked as they journeyed. "It's like nothing in the world could ever phase you. Even when I threw that slipper, you could've dodged it, but you didn't."

Damon glanced at her, a smirk forming on his lips. "Maybe I enjoy keeping you on your toes. Or maybe… you'll just have to figure it out." He left her with that cryptic remark, turning his focus back to the road ahead.

As the wind tousled his hair, Damon closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment of introspection. He could feel the energy coursing through his veins, raw and untamed. It called to him, urging him to unleash it. The anticipation of testing his limits brought a feral grin to his face—a look that sent a chill down Emily's spine.

"Damon…" she started, her tone hesitant.

"What?" he asked, glancing back at her with his usual smirk.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head. She couldn't quite place the feeling, but there was something about him that felt different today.

They stopped near the edge of the forest to rest. Emily lit a small fire and prepared a simple meal, producing meat from her storage pouch. "We're close to Martlock, so let's take a break and eat. Don't worry about attracting demonic beasts—I've taken precautions," she assured him, her eyes still scanning his face for any signs of unease.

Damon, however, was already on his feet. "I'm heading into the forest to play," he announced. "Don't follow me, and keep your summoned creatures away."

"Play?" Emily repeated, exasperated. "You're insufferable!" But he was already gone, vanishing into the dense woods like a shadow.

The forest greeted Damon with a cacophony of rustling leaves and distant animal cries. At the peak of the rookie realm, his senses were heightened, and he relished the thrill of the wild. Each step felt like a dance with the unknown, and he was eager to test his explosive strength against whatever challenge lay ahead.

His moment of excitement was abruptly interrupted when a massive figure slammed into him, sending him crashing into a nearby tree. Damon's eyes snapped open to meet the fiery gaze of a Vulccan Ape. The creature stood towering over him, its muscular frame radiating heat as flames danced along its arms.

"Well, aren't you a sight," Damon muttered, brushing dirt off his tunic. He met the beast's glare with equal intensity.

The ape bellowed, its voice shaking the forest. "Noti alfrima!"

In response, more Vulccan Apes emerged from the shadows, their demonic energy palpable. Each was a formidable opponent, none below the second rank. The largest among them, the king of the pack, smirked, exuding an aura of dominance.

"You're quite the intelligent one," Damon mused, his smirk widening. Without hesitation, he launched himself at the nearest ape, his movements a blur. His hand gripped the beast's skull, and with a sickening crack, he crushed it effortlessly. "Ah, it's been too long since I felt this alive!"

The remaining apes hesitated, but their instincts soon took over, and they charged as one. Damon activated "The Art of Murder," a technique honed in a past life. Moving with uncanny precision, he dispatched his foes. His fingers found the eye socket of one ape, digging deep until it went limp.

Another attempted to flank him, but Damon whirled around, striking with such force that the creature's skull shattered. He seized stones from the ground, hurling them with deadly accuracy. Three apes fell in quick succession, their lifeless forms collapsing with dull thuds.

The second-in-command of the pack, a third-rank Vulccan Ape, roared in fury. It lunged at Damon, molten lava trailing from its fists. Damon dodged deftly, retreating as the ground erupted in flames.

Emerging unscathed, Damon countered with a punch infused with spiritual energy, sending the beast staggering back. It regrouped quickly, lunging again, but before it could strike, the king of the apes intervened.

The pack leader hurled Damon through the air with immense force, its eyes narrowing as it assessed the battlefield. Damon flipped mid-air, releasing a devastating punch that created a shockwave upon impact.

When the dust settled, the battlefield was silent. The rank-four Vulccan Ape, realizing its defeat, fled into the forest, abandoning its kin.

Damon stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. His explosive strength had triumphed, and a satisfied grin spread across his face as he prepared to hunt down the 4th rank Vulccan ape.