Chapter 24: Massacre

It was Sunday today, and the sense of urgency hung in the air like a thick fog. Tomorrow was another day of school, another day of lectures, and that meant no time for the kind of work I needed to do. Today was my only chance—if I was going to make any real progress, I had to act now.

I couldn't afford to waste time.

Demons.

They were perfect targets. Creatures of immense power, capable of lifting trucks with ease, more than strong enough to challenge me, and more than capable of giving me the boost I was looking for. These weren't mere beasts; they were formidable foes, each one a force of nature in their own right. But they were also predictable, and more importantly—they could be absorbed.

I wasn't an ordinary human, not by a long shot. I was different. And my ability to absorb their strength, their power, and transform it into my own was the key to advancing faster than anyone thought possible. That was the plan: kill and absorb, take what I needed, and keep moving forward.

I checked the time on my pocket watch—10:02 AM. I had plenty of hours left before the day ended, but not too much time to waste. If I was going to track down demons, fight them, and absorb their energy, I had to move quickly. Every second mattered.

I had spent enough time thinking about this. Demons weren't just any ordinary beasts; they were beings that could lift mountains with a flick of their wrist, their strength, speed, and resilience far beyond that of a human. But I wasn't human, not entirely. My White Mana Core and my ability to absorb powers meant that these demons were just the kind of challenge I needed.

I ran the numbers in my head. 100 demons. That's what it would take to give me a 1% amplification across my stats—strength, speed, and agility. 1% didn't sound like much, but every little bit would add up. If I kept at it, the growth would be exponential. The sooner I got started, the sooner I would be able to face stronger challenges and outgrow even the most powerful opponents I would eventually encounter.

It was a simple equation, really.

"Get the demons, absorb their power, and become stronger."

I grabbed my sword, a sleek, sharp weapon that had become an extension of myself over time. I also slid my pocket knife into its sheath, alongside a standard combat knife. You could never be too prepared, and today, I knew I'd need every advantage I could get.

The woods and mountains near the academy were perfect for what I was about to do. Far enough from the academy grounds that no one would suspect anything, but close enough that I could get there within an hour or two. I didn't want any interruptions. No one could know what I was about to do. I couldn't afford any distractions.

The demons had their own territories, areas where they were more active—places filled with dense, dark woods, jagged cliffs, and the kind of rugged terrain that demons seemed to prefer. I had scouted a few of these areas before. If I were to fight and absorb, this was the most logical place to do it. Far away, out of sight, and far from prying eyes.

As I trekked through the forest, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, I felt the weight of the mission settle over me.

This wasn't just about strength. This was about survival, about securing my future. The I.S.S. might have their sights on me, and if they did, I needed to be strong enough to hold my ground. But more than that, I needed to prove something—to myself. If I could master this process of absorbing power, there would be no one who could challenge me. No one who could stop me.

The deeper I went into the forest, the more the energy around me shifted. There was an eerie sense of presence, a feeling that I wasn't alone. And then I heard it—the unmistakable sound of something moving through the trees, the crunch of footsteps heavy enough to make the ground tremble. Demons.

They were out there.

I stopped, listening carefully, then quietly moved toward the sound. A low growl echoed in the distance. It was time.

There were three demons ahead of me, hunched and fierce-looking. They hadn't seen me yet, but it wouldn't take long. I gripped my sword tightly and crouched low, preparing myself. I didn't need to waste any time on a fight I didn't need to win; all I had to do was kill, absorb, and move on.

In a split second, I was on them.

I launched myself from the shadows, swift and silent, slicing through the air with my blade. The first demon didn't even know what hit it as I cleaved through its side, my sword cutting deep into its thick hide.

It roared, its eyes flashing with rage, but it didn't get the chance to retaliate. I was already moving, my knife flashing in my hand, and in the blink of an eye, I had taken down the second demon. The third tried to lunge at me, but I sidestepped, ducking under its attack and driving my sword through its chest in a single, fluid motion.

The demons didn't stand a chance.

In the aftermath of the fight, I took a moment to breathe, looking over their lifeless bodies. Absorption.

I placed my hand over the closest demon, focusing on the core of its being. The power surged into me—its strength, its energy, its very essence—flowing into my White Mana Core.

I could feel it immediately. A rush of power coursed through my body, my muscles swelling with newfound strength. My senses sharpened, and the air around me seemed to hum with the pulse of energy I had just taken in. I was already stronger, faster, more agile.

But I couldn't stop here.

I needed more.

The sun was still high in the sky, and there were more demons to find, more to absorb.

As I continued on, the weight of my growing power hung over me like a cloak. 1% stronger. Each demon, each battle, brought me closer to the strength I needed to survive in this world.

Tomorrow's lecture could wait.

Two hours had passed. The forest around me was eerily quiet now, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. My sword was a broken, bloodied mess at my side—too many clashes with too many demons. It had served its purpose, but it was no longer useful.

I'd killed 100 demons in the last two hours, and each one had contributed to my power. 1% stronger, I could feel it. My muscles were starting to burn with that familiar, intoxicating energy, each movement quicker, more fluid. But it wasn't enough. 100 demons wasn't a massive number by any stretch of the imagination, but the energy had already made a difference. Every demon I absorbed brought me closer to my goal.

Still, I wasn't satisfied.

I gripped my pocket knife—still sharp, still reliable—and pressed on. The world around me seemed to shift with each step. The ground was stained with the blood of demons, their remains scattered like the wreckage of a battlefield. It didn't bother me. It never had.

The further I went, the more I could feel the primal energy in the air, thick and dense, almost suffocating in its intensity. The demons I had faced so far were only the beginning. The deeper into the woods I ventured, the stronger they were supposed to be. The fact that I had killed 100 of them without breaking a sweat spoke volumes about my own growing strength. But I knew better than to get cocky. Demons were unpredictable, and the deeper into their territory I went, the more dangerous they would become.

I could hear the growl of something in the distance. Something big. I wasn't sure if it was a demon or something else, but I wasn't in the mood to sit around and wait. I needed more power. I needed strength. I needed to push myself further.

I pressed on, knowing that with each demon I encountered, I would grow stronger, more capable. The path I had set myself on wasn't an easy one, but nothing worth achieving ever was.

Another demon stepped into view—this one was massive, towering over the others I'd encountered so far. Its skin was thick and leathery, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly, predatory light. It snarled as it spotted me, its claws twitching in anticipation.

I didn't hesitate.

I didn't need to.

The pocket knife felt like an extension of my own will as I lunged forward, my movements swift and precise. It was all I needed. This demon was strong, but I wasn't some untrained mortal who needed to waste time. I could feel the energy coursing through me as I danced around its swipes, narrowly dodging as it tried to claw at me. The way it moved was slow, methodical. Predictable. I wasn't about to let it land a hit.

I stabbed forward, my pocket knife sinking deep into its side. It let out a guttural scream of pain, but I didn't give it a chance to retaliate. I was already moving, cutting through the air in a blur, carving through its defenses, its heart.

Within moments, it was over.

The demon crumpled to the ground, its body twitching as it let out a final, defeated breath.

I placed my hand over its chest, focusing all my energy into absorbing its life force. It was a rush—a powerful surge of strength flooding my system. But this one was different. It was stronger. My body pulsed with the force of its energy as it merged with my own. My White Mana Core reacted to it, expanding, absorbing, growing.

1% stronger, I thought. Maybe more.

But it wasn't enough. I couldn't stop yet.

As I wiped the blood off my hands and glanced at the body of the demon that lay before me, I realized that this was the process. This was the way I would grow stronger. This was the only way forward.

Kill. Absorb. Get stronger.

I could feel the next demon's presence, lurking in the distance. Another challenge, another opportunity. With every fight, with every demon I took down, I was inching closer to what I needed. Strength. Knowledge.

The world around me shifted again. The weight of the energy, the force of the magic I was absorbing, was starting to weigh heavily on my shoulders. I could feel the changes happening within me, the growth that was both physical and mental. My thoughts sharpened, my focus honed. The plan was clear—I would continue down this path until I reached the power I needed.

It wasn't about the demons. It wasn't about their size, their strength, their abilities. They were just stepping stones, nothing more. The real goal—the only goal—was the final result.

To be stronger than anyone else. To be more powerful than even the gods who ruled this world.

I pressed on, knowing that this was just the beginning.

The ground trembled beneath my feet, the sheer weight of the monster before me sending cracks through the earth like delicate strands of glass shattering under immense pressure. A snake—no, a beast—a demon—towered before me, its massive, coiled body stretching so high into the sky that I momentarily lost sight of its full length. Its scales shimmered, not like a thing of beauty but like something unnatural, something wrong, reflecting an eerie iridescence that seemed to distort reality itself. It was massive, its sheer presence enough to suffocate the air around me, as if the entire world had become trapped beneath its gaze.

Its fangs, long as swords, dripped with a liquid that oozed with the promise of suffering. I knew what they were capable of. They did not just kill—they induced death in the purest, most insidious form. A mere scratch, and one's existence would unravel, collapsing in upon itself like a rotting fruit. But it did not stop there. Its bite would send one's mind into a spiral of madness, an abyss of eternal nightmares so vivid, so real, that even the dead might scream in agony.

But I was not afraid.

Knowledge was key.

Fear was born from ignorance, from not understanding what stood before you. And fear—true, all-consuming fear—was something I had long since discarded. I had seen worse. I had done worse.

I studied it. The way its massive body coiled and uncoiled, the way its forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, the way its massive golden eyes bore into me as if measuring my worth.

The more I understood, the less I feared.

I tightened my grip on my pocket knife. A single blade against a beast that could swallow castles whole.

The knife itself—small, fragile, insignificant—was useless against its armor-like scales. They were harder than diamond, impenetrable, crafted by nature itself into a fortress that rendered all weapons obsolete. If I tried to cut through its flesh, I would be the one broken instead.

But even the strongest things had weaknesses.

Its eyes.

Those massive golden orbs, deep and ancient, filled with a hunger that transcended mere consumption. They were unprotected. Vulnerable. Even a god could be blinded if struck in the right place.

I understood.

The moment clarity struck, I moved.

I lunged forward, body weaving through the air with practiced precision. The beast reacted, its massive coils shifting, its fangs flashing toward me with the speed of lightning, seeking to end me with a single strike. I ducked, barely avoiding the tip of its venomous dagger-like fangs. The air sizzled where the venom made contact with the ground, melting rock like boiling water dissolving sugar.

Close. Too close.

I moved faster.

Step. Dodge. Move.

A heartbeat of silence. Then—

I struck.

My pocket knife, insignificant in comparison to the beast, found its mark. The blade pierced through the gelatinous surface of its massive golden eye.

The snake screamed.

A sound so unearthly, so raw, that the very air around me twisted and bent.

I did not stop.

I drove the knife deeper.

The flesh resisted, but my will did not waver. I twisted the blade, feeling the gelatinous eye rupture, spilling fluids down the creature's massive skull. Its body convulsed, the pain triggering primal instincts as it writhed and slammed into the trees, the earth, the sky itself, trying to shake me off.

I held on.

And I kept stabbing.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The motions were familiar.

The sensation—of blade sinking into soft flesh, of warm blood splattering across my hands—was something my body remembered. Something from another time, another life.

And suddenly, the present faded.

And I was no longer here.

—

The scent of blood was thick in the air. But it was not demon blood.

It was elven.

I could see him beneath me, the Elven King. His once-pristine robes were now tattered, drenched in crimson. His eyes—oh, how they once held such arrogance—were wide now, filled with the kind of terror only one who truly understands death could hold.

My hand was steady, as it always was.

The blade sank into his chest again.

And again.

And again.

His screams had long since faded, but I did not stop.

I could not stop.

There was no hatred. No malice. Only purpose.

This was the Massacre of Elves.

And i—

—

The present snapped back into focus.

I was standing over the demon. Its body had stopped moving. Its massive coils, once shifting and writhing, were now limp, scattered across the forest floor like the ruins of a collapsed fortress.

I had killed it.

I had killed another.

A deep breath.

I exhaled.

The past was the past.

I placed my hand on the demon's corpse, feeling the energy seep into me, merging, twisting, evolving into something new.

More power. More strength.

Another step forward.

Another kill.

The path was clear.

I wiped the blood from my hands and turned my gaze toward the deeper parts of the forest.

There were more demons to slay.

And I was not done yet.

The Aftermath of a Massacre

The stench of death clung to me like a second skin, thick and suffocating, even as I made my way back to the Academy of Aurimora. The crimson-stained fields of the Forest of Wynn were far behind me now, but the echoes of the slaughter still rang in my ears.

Over 1,000 demons had fallen beneath my blade.

By 3:46 PM, my stats had surged—a 10% amplification to my strength, mana, and speed. A cold, undeniable reality. Numbers did not lie, nor did my sharpened senses. The once-dense forest now stood as a graveyard, littered with the mangled corpses of creatures who once believed themselves superior.

I had cut them down one by one.

And yet, as I stepped into the familiar halls of the academy, I felt nothing. No satisfaction. No regret. Just the mechanical understanding that I had taken another step forward—toward absolute strength.

Tomorrow was Monday.

Tomorrow, I had a lecture to give.

How to properly manage mana without harming yourself.

The irony was not lost on me.

For hours, I spoke to my students about the balance of mana, about the risks of mismanagement, about how one could easily destroy their own bodies if they did not exercise control. And yet, I had spent the previous night devouring mana, absorbing the very essence of the beings I had slain, stacking power upon power without hesitation.

They sat there, absorbing my words, oblivious to the monster who stood before them.

And then—

A messenger arrived.

The moment he stepped into the room, I knew something was wrong. The atmosphere shifted, tension creeping into the air like an unseen specter.

"Hundreds of dead bodies were found in the Forest of Wynn."

I did not move.

I did not breathe.

The classroom fell into a hushed silence, every student turning to listen as the messenger continued.

"We investigated…"

My fingers twitched, instincts flaring. This was it. They were onto me.

"The conclusion is that the Demon King of Salvation killed them."

…What?

"We don't know why a Demon King would, well, kill demons, but that's what the head detective said."

The messenger finished his report and left.

A wave of whispers spread through the room, hushed voices filled with confusion and curiosity. A Demon King? Killing his own kind? The absurdity of it sent ripples through the students, speculation running wild.

But I heard none of it.

My mind latched onto one single thought—

"Who was this Demon King of Salvation?"

I had left no witnesses.

I had erased all traces of my presence.

The bodies should have spoken for themselves—nothing more than dead demons, cut down and forgotten.

And yet, someone else—someone who should not exist—was taking credit for my work.

Who was this so-called Demon King of Salvation?

And more importantly—

Why was he covering for me?