Chapter 47: Demon

Ray body was still standing, probably because of Over clock effect.

He looked at the timer,

[2:32]

I defeated it in half-time.

It was finally over.

Or so he thought.

Because the moment the knight's body faded—

A chilling whisper slithered through the air, barely a murmur yet heavy enough to shake the ruins. The temperature dropped, and the ground beneath Ray's feet trembled.

"Well done, Ray."

The voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It carried an unnatural weight, a presence that coiled around his spine like a phantom's grip.

"I am glad I waited."

Ray's breath hitched. His instincts screamed—danger.

***

[ASH POV]

Ash watched in silence as Ray drove his sword into the Black Knight's skull, the weapon sinking deep, cutting through the dark energy that had once pulsed violently within its armor.

Ash exhaled slowly.

So, this much stayed the same...

The skill Ray had just used—Overclock.

Ash had read about it in the novel. A powerful skill that pushed the body beyond its limits, granting explosive speed and power at the cost of severe backlash.

The price for its use was steep—Ray would lose consciousness for at least a day.

That works in my favor.

With Ray out of commission, he wouldn't need to worry about interference. He could simply walk in, take the Rune, and leave before the others even had time to react.

Or so he thought.

Because what happened next was never mentioned in the novel.

The knight's mangled fingers twitched. Then, with a sudden, almost mechanical motion, its hand clenched around the blade embedded in its skull.

The steel groaned under the unnatural pressure, sparks dancing across its surface as the knight's grip tightened.

And then—

It ripped the sword out.

Dark energy erupted from the gaping wound, a torrential surge that flooded the surroundings like a living entity.

The air itself seemed to warp, bending under the sheer force of the knight's power, its once-fading presence now burning with an intensity that sent chills crawling down Ash's spine.

What the fuck…

A heavy weight crashed down upon everyone, suffocating and unnatural, as the knight's shattered armor began to mend itself slowly.

The cracks sealed, the torn metal knit together, and the hollow sockets where its eyes once burned now radiated with a sickly, malevolent glow.

Then—it moved.

Exploding forward with terrifying speed, the knight crossed the distance in an instant.

A flaming fist, wreathed in crackling green energy, drove itself deep into Ray's gut.

The impact was monstrous.

Ray's body lurched, his feet lifting off the ground as the force of the strike sent shockwaves through the chamber. Before he could even recover, a second punch crashed into his ribs, the sheer power behind it sending him hurtling through the air.

His body slammed into a stone pillar, the impact shaking the very foundations of the dungeon.

Dust and debris rained down from above, filling the air with a suffocating haze.

The knight did not stop.

Its figure blurred, moving forward once again, relentless in its pursuit.

But this time, something changed.

Ray, who had been coughing violently just moments ago, slowly straightened. His breathing steadied, the tremors in his hands disappearing as a strange stillness took over his body.

And then—he closed his eyes.

Ash's eyes narrowed.

Something felt different.

The way Ray stood, the way his mana pulsed—not erratic or forced, but controlled, refined.

A realization struck him.

He had read this before.

The stance, the grip, the way the very air around Ray seemed to distort.

Void Severance...

A sword technique that would, in the future, become strong enough to cut through reality itself.

But Ash didn't wait to see its full execution, as he already knew what the result will be.

He learned the technique ahead of time, but its fine, he will win anyway.

His focus shifted.

Melding into the darkness, he slipped away from his hiding spot, his movements precise and soundless as he made his way toward the fallen sword of the Black Knight.

The blade had landed a few meters away from, its surface still pulsing with residual energy.

In one swift motion, he stored it inside his space ring.

With the same fluid efficiency, he slipped into his hiding place, just then Ray made his move.

A sharp hum cut through the air.

Ray's sword gleamed under the dim dungeon light.

Then—he swung.

A single, crescent-shaped arc of void energy tore through the knight's torso.

The very fabric of reality shuddered at its presence.

The knight didn't even have time to react.

The void ripped through its body, splitting it apart in an instant,

Ash barely spared it a glance.

His focus was elsewhere.

On the sword in his hands.

It was a masterpiece of darkness, a blade that seemed almost alive. The hilt was carved in the shape of a dragon's head, its obsidian eyes glowing with an eerie green light.

Along the blade's edge, thin, vein-like patterns pulsed faintly, as if the sword itself still held remnants of the knight's power.

But what truly caught his attention—the real prize—was embedded in the pommel.

A small, green gemstone.

Ash ran his fingers across its surface, feeling the faint Power trapped within.

For a brief moment, the gem flickered.

He grinned.

Jackpot.

Without hesitation, he formed a lightning blade—small, precise, no larger than a pen. His mana manipulation still wasn't perfect, but it was enough for what he needed.

He carefully wedged the tip of his makeshift lightning blade beneath the gem, wiggling it back and forth as he tried to pry it loose. The damn thing was stuck tight.

Ash gritted his teeth. "Tsk, stubborn little bastard."

He adjusted his grip and pulled harder. Still, it refused to budge.

His fingers tensed around the hilt, sweat beading on his forehead. He gave it another determined yank, whispering under his breath—

"Come on... Come to daddy."

The moment the words left his mouth, he froze.

A long, awkward silence filled his mind.

If anyone had seen him right now—hunched over in the dimly lit dungeon, breathing heavily, whispering sweet nothings to a gemstone while grinding his fingers against it—

There would be no room for misunderstanding.

They would immediately assume the worst.

A pervert.

Maybe even a fetishist.

The thought made him shudder.

"Alright, let's never say that again."

He took a deep breath, focused, and with one final push—

The gem popped out.

A rush of satisfaction filled him—

But the feeling vanished the moment he sensed a shift in the air.

His head snapped towards Ray.

---

From the depths of the shadows, a figure stepped forward.

A woman.

Tall and poised, she moved with an effortless grace—yet her presence bore a weight that pressed against the very air, heavy and suffocating in its intensity.

Her steps were slow, deliberate. Each click of her heels against the stone was like the ticking of a countdown, filling the vast chamber with an eerie rhythm.

Then, she spoke.

"Well done, Ray."

Her voice wasn't raised, yet it cut through the air like a blade dipped in silk.

Ray, who had been catching his breath after his battle, stiffened. His shoulders squared, his grip on his sword tightening ever so slightly.

Ash's instincts screamed at him.

Who the hell is she?

How did she get here?

And more importantly—did she see me?

He carefully adjusted his position in the shadows, fingers still wrapped around the gem he had just stolen.

But she didn't look his way.

Her crimson gaze remained locked onto Ray, gleaming with a curiosity that sent a shiver down Ash's spine.

"I'm glad, I waited."

She smiled.

Not a warm, friendly smile—but the kind that suggested she had been watching for a while

And Ash had no idea what else she had seen.

---

Ray's posture shifted, his stance subtly adjusting—not defensive, but wary.

"Miss Liera…?"

There was something in his tone.

Suspicion.

Wariness.

Ash's eyes narrowed.

Ray knows her?

Liera smiled, her expression unreadable.

"You're quite vigilant," she mused, her voice carrying a note of amusement. "As expected of someone who defeated a monster 2 ranks above you."

Nathaniel, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke—his voice tight with disbelief.

"Miss Liera… How are you here?"

His gaze sharpened.

"This dungeon is Expert Rank, how can a Master like you enter?"

Liera's smile didn't falter, but there was something in her eyes—something unreadable.

She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head.

"Ah… I was hoping to draw this out a little longer," she mused, her tone carrying an almost playful lilt. "But I suppose the time for pretense has passed."

A strange energy pulsed from her body, sending a ripple through the air.

Nathaniel instinctively stepped back, his grip tightening around his weapon.

"Liera, what are you—"

His voice was cut off as,

Cracks spread across her porcelain skin like fragile glass, black fissures forming intricate patterns.

Her irises burned crimson.

Vince stumbled back, his breath hitching.

Everyone froze—shock, fear, and anger flashing across their faces.

Two sharp horns pushed through her scalp, curling slightly backward, their edges jagged like obsidian.

Her fair skin darkened, shifting into an abyssal shade, veins of molten red tracing her form like cracks in a dying star.

The transformation was slow—deliberate.

A demon.

She had been a demon all along.

Ash, still hidden in the shadows, felt his stomach drop.

What the fuck…? A Demon?

Nathaniel's breathing grew erratic.

"Miss Liera …" His voice wavered, disbelief bleeding into every syllable. "You're… you're a…"

Liera stretched, rolling her shoulders as if shedding an old skin.

"A demon?" Her lips curled. "Oh, Nathaniel... I expected more from you."

She lifted a hand, studying her elongated fingers, the sharp, claw-like nails that had replaced her human ones.

"It feels good to be myself again," she murmured, almost to herself.

Then she looked at them.

And smiled.

***

When Ray entered the dungeon....

Liera watched as Ray Dawson stepped into the portal, his figure vanishing into the pulsating violet glow.

The moment he disappeared, a slow, almost imperceptible smile curled her lips.

Excitement coursed through her veins, sharp and electric—a stark contrast to the composed demeanor she had maintained in front of the others.

Her mind was elsewhere—on the dungeon, on what lay inside.

On the Rune.

A Rune of the Ancients… if it's truly in there, my fate will change forever.

She had spent years embedding herself within the city's power structure—playing the role of a loyal enforcer, a trusted aide to the City Head. With careful precision, she had manipulated, advised, and influenced, all while secretly feeding intelligence to her true master.

The Demon King.

For decades, she had worked in the shadows, waiting, watching, biding her time.

Patience had been her greatest weapon, and now, after years of restraint, the moment she had been waiting for had finally arrived.

The Whisperer's intel had revealed an artifact of unspeakable power within the dungeon. Not just any artifact—a Rune of ancient origins, something the Demon King himself had sought for centuries.

Her heart had pounded at the revelation. If she secured it and delivered it personally, she would no longer be just another infiltrator stationed in a backwater city.

She would rise.

But fate had chosen to mock her.

The dungeon was restricted to Expert Rank and below—and she was a Master.

She had barely managed to suppress her frustration. After all my work, all my patience… and now this?

Still, she hadn't let her emotions show. Instead, she had subtly guided the emergency meeting toward her favor.

"We can't let such an opportunity slip," she had suggested. "The intel is from the Whisperer. There is definitely a Rune inside. We should incentivize hunters to retrieve anything of worth. We lose nothing, and we might gain something of great significance."

The officials had hesitated, but in the end, they agreed. Even the Black Market had been lured in.

But Liera had never intended to wait idly by while others retrieved the Rune.

She would take it herself.

Or so she had thought.

Until something unexpected happened.

Ray Dawson.

A mere Academy student had appeared, requesting entry. At first, she had dismissed him as irrelevant—until she checked his records.

An All-Affinity User.

Demon intelligence had reported the appearance of an All-Affinity User in Starlight Academy.

The demons had long debated eliminating him before he could become a real threat. Some had even proposed assassination, fearing what he might become.

And now, the fool had walked straight into his own grave.

Her lips curled into a smirk.

I wasn't planning on using this opportunity for anything more than the Rune… but now?

What if, along with securing the Rune, she took Ray Dawson's head?

With both, she wouldn't just be rewarded.

She would be elevated.

Her name would no longer be whispered in secrecy but spoken with recognition. The Demon King would acknowledge her.

She would stand by his side.

The Rune and the prodigy's head… with both, I will rise.

Her smile widened.

But first, she needed to get inside.

She needed to lower her rank—without weakening herself.

And she had the perfect tool for that.

With a final glance at the dungeon's entrance, she turned on her heel.

She slipped away from the scene, feigning exhaustion, claiming illness—a minor affliction, nothing serious, just enough to excuse herself from duty.

Reaching a secluded chamber, she pulled out a blood-red stone from her Space Ring.

The Crimson Eclipse Stone.

A relic of ancient demonic magic.

A stone of sacrifice.

One that could permanently lower a being's rank—but in exchange, for a single day, it would double their power at the lower rank.

A dangerous gamble. A desperate move. But power lost could be regained.

Opportunities like this? They never came twice.

She held the stone in her palm, feeling the ancient malice whispering through it, beckoning her forward.

She clenched her fist around the stone, her grip tightening with resolution and then she crushed it.

A shockwave of dark energy pulsed through her body.

She felt as if her body was being destroyed inside out.

Pain unlike anything she had ever felt tore through her body.

It felt as if her very soul was being splintered, the foundations of her strength ripped away, shattered, and reforged in an instant.

The process lasted mere seconds, but to her, it felt like eternity.

When it was over, she staggered slightly, exhaling a sharp breath.

Then, slowly, she flexed her fingers.

Even though her Rank decreased, power surged through her veins.

Her lips curled.

I am strong enough to kill them all.

Now, all that was left was to ensure no one suspected a thing.

And when the time was right—when no eyes were watching—

She stepped into the dungeon.

***