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6 — Tyrant

As the ethereal gray figure solidified above the mantis's corpse, it took on the distinct, jagged contours of the monster itself. The classroom was abuzz with hushed whispers and nervous glances, but Zain paid them no mind.

With a focused determination, he moved swiftly towards the remains of the mantis, his eyes locked on the spectral shape that shimmered with a ghostly light.

As Zain placed his hand near the charred exoskeleton of the Blade Mantis, he immediately felt the residual heat emanating from the creature's burnt shell.

The air around him thickened with the smell of burnt chitin and scorched flesh, intensifying as his hand maintained contact with the monster's corpse. The acrid odor stung his nostrils, a pungent mix of burnt organic material and the electric tang of residual magical energies.

The lengths he goes for strength.

Devour

As Zain initiated the skill once more, the sensation that surged through him was familiar yet noticeably less tumultuous than before.

The strange, tingling energy that raced up his arm sparked his nerves into heightened awareness, but this time, the internal chaos of mana swirling and twisting within him seemed more contained, less like a wild river and more like a stream finding its course.

His concentration deepened, but the brow that had once furrowed in intense focus now settled into a determined, controlled expression. His hands still trembled, reflecting the potency of the energy coursing through him, yet his movements were more assured, guided by his growing familiarity with the process and lessened pressure.

As the spectral essence above the corpse began to stabilize, the shimmering light dimming under his influence, Zain felt the drain on his vitality. Although still significant, the sensation was less shocking than the initial experience. He was becoming accustomed to the exchange, understanding that the channeling of mana also drew upon his own life force.

His jaw set firmly, not just in determination but also in anticipation of the familiar contraction of energy into a dense sphere. This glowing orb of life now seemed still ghastly. As it dissolved into a stream of light and merged into his chest, Zain steadied himself for the inevitable hurt.

[ Soul Increased by 0.061 ]

As the familiar sensation of the Devour skill subsided, Zain felt a sudden urge to cough as another spurt of blood rose in his throat, a harsh reminder of the skill's toll on his body. But this time, he was prepared; swiftly, he gulped it down, suppressing the discomfort with a seasoned resolve.

[ HP: 71% ]

[ MP: 68% ]

That's useful, he muttered, a grim satisfaction in his voice as he tried to plan his strategy better.

Each activation of the skill, with its accompanying decrease in health and mana, was a calculated risk, hopefully, one that increasingly bore strategic advantages.

Was he becoming more adept at its use, or was the skill itself adapting to his physiology and mana structure? But it would be too fast for his body to adjust. His eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities.

Perhaps the variance in the intensity and cost of each Devour wasn't just about his growing proficiency or the skill's adaptation to his body. Maybe it was tied to the nature of the souls he was absorbing.

Maybe it's due to sentience? Everyone knew that sentient beings possessed stronger, more complex souls. If sentient souls indeed provided more substantial benefits due to their complexity, then targeting such entities could be more advantageous, albeit riskier. But the moral complexities began to weigh on him.

It wasn't just the act of killing that troubled him now; it was the purpose behind it. Killing in self-defense or in the heat of battle was one thing, but killing specifically to absorb the soul for personal gain presented a different challenge. Some lines even he was wary of crossing…

Though it was a challenge, Zain had navigated before, in a sense. His last profession, the so-called "Blood Path," was similarly fraught with moral ambiguities. Walking that tightrope had earned him a reputation that was far from admirable, one that came with whispered titles such as Bloodthirsty Hound or Bloodwalker.

His introspection was abruptly interrupted by the sharp voice.

"Zain, what are you doing?!" a boy's voice cut through the tension like a knife, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Zain.

Lightning boy also turned to look, his expression hardening into a mask of suspicion.

Zain remained calm, ready with a lie. "Testing my skill," he said casually, his voice steady. "It's Tracker."

Landon sneered, his lip curling in disdain. "Will it help you fight? A useless ability for a useless person."

Lightning boy interrupted, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Wait. Did you locate anything interesting in the corpse?"

Zain nodded, maintaining his composure. "Yes, in the head. Something there is attracting my skill."

"Where is it?" Lightning boy ordered with curiosity and greed in his voice.

Zain pointed to the mantis's head where the monster's Essence Crystal should be located and stepped back at the same time. "There."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

An Essence Crystal was a significant find, a boon for any magic user, but possessing such a treasure within a group also brewed potential discord. He was curious to see lightning boy's knowledge about these things.

Knowledge is power. It was true before the apocalypse and became more true after it.

The little action made lightning boy very satisfied with his reaction. He raised his chin towards his errands, "Landon, check if there is anything in the head."

Landon, despite his disdain, followed orders. The mantis corpse was already half charred, so his Claw attack quickly shattered the head into fragments.

Zain's eyebrow arched subtly. It was a risky move; Essence Crystals were extraordinarily valuable, akin to water for a man stranded in a desert. The lower your level and grade are, the more you would your body carve it. The power to boost one's strength, speed, and resilience by fifty percent was a tactical advantage.

Zain noticed the pause as Landon found the Crystal in the head. As Landon’s fingers grasped the crystal, he detected a flicker of greed flash across the boy's eyes—a natural reaction to such potent power within easy reach.

The red crystal, vibrant and pulsing with contained energy, seemed to captivate everyone’s attention.

Meanwhile, Tristan, standing a slight distance away, watched keenly. His gaze was not just anticipatory but sharp, vigilant for any sign of betrayal or hesitation from Landon. It was clear that Tristan was aware of the crystal's allure, the temptation it represented, and was prepared to reclaim it should the need arise.

Trying to test loyalty through Essence? Truly ruthless.

In the end Landon reluctantly handed it over to his leader.

"Essense Crystal," Tristan murmured. His eyes lost focus, and a bright silver light flashed from his eyes, startling some of the closer onlookers. The crystal itself began to dissipate, its energy seemingly absorbed into Tristan’s being, leaving behind no physical trace.

Most people here had no clue what happened, but a collective sigh of disappointment echoed in the classroom.

Essence is the pure, unadulterated energy of the multiverse. The foundation on which the System operates. The very resource that could change anyone's fate.

There are many ways to use Essence, from increasing your levels to improving your stats. Absorbing essence was easy; getting the most out of the pure energy was the hard part.

Humans are adaptable. But unless you have a refinement method, there will always be energy that would dissipate into surroundings.

Watching Tristan absorb the Essense Crystal made him reevaluate his status. Not a fool. The boy knows what he is doing. A high grade Essence Refinement method. Maybe a C grade. No way a scion with these skills should be left in this school. Unless it's punishment for something…

"We need to move out of this classroom and hunt more monsters," Tristan announced a greedy look on his face.

Zain sighed. Looking at the excited look on Tristan's face, he was sure that the man used it to increase his stats. The refinement method was not enough to hide the clue from him. Not even with his depleted stats.

A girl with wide, fearful eyes shook her head vehemently from her corner. "No way! Did you see what that thing did to Anlin? We can't go out there. What if there are more of those monsters?"

Lightning boy's face darkened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Staying here makes us sitting ducks. We need to gather resources and strengthen ourselves, or we won't survive."

Most of the students exchanged nervous glances, their silence speaking volumes. They were too scared to move but also too frightened to outright defy Tristan. This hesitance sparked anger in Tristan. "Are you all just going to sit here and wait to die?" he shouted, electricity crackling around his fists.

The classroom fell into an uneasy silence. Tristan's ultimatum hung in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. His frustration and anger were palpable, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of defiance.

"Fine. Here's the deal: either you come with me and fight, or you stay here to die. No one gets to leech off the hard work of others."

"Why should we listen to you, Tristan?" a boy from the back finally spoke up, his voice cut through the tense air, his defiance palpable as he stepped forward. "Who made you the leader?"

The name also didn't jolt any memories in Zain, so he was sure that the lightning boy Tristan should have died early.

Tristan turned slowly, the electric charge in his hand growing, branching out into shimmering tendrils of raw energy that hissed and popped menacingly. "I did," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Got a problem, Jeremy?"

The crackling sound of lightning bolts filled the classroom, blue arcs dancing menacingly from Tristan's fingertips, casting an eerie light on the walls.

Jeremy faltered, his courage flickering. "You can't just—"

Before Jeremy could finish, Tristan flicked his wrist, a bolt of lightning streaking through the air.

The bolt struck squarely in the left shoulder, sending Jeremy staggering back against a desk, the smell of singed fabric filling the air. Rubbing his shoulder where the bolt had hit, Jeremy grimaced but shot back with a sneer, "That all you got? Not enough to make you a leader."

The challenge in Jeremy's voice only fueled Lightning Boy's anger. "Still think I’m playing around?" Tristan snarled, and without another word, he summoned a more formidable bolt, thick and crackling with deadly intent.

As the next bolt collided with the shield, the light flared dramatically, absorbing the shock but trembling under the force. The collision emitted a sharp, sizzling pop, and the room flickered with shadows and light.

"You think you're a leader? You're just a bully with a new toy!" Jeremy shot back, his defiance bold but his body subtly bracing for another attack.

Around them, the group of students shifted uneasily, the tension thick enough to choke on. Some looked away, unable to watch, while others seemed unable to tear their eyes from the impending violence.

Lightning boy laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "A toy?" He shook his head, the smirk on his face twisting into something cruel. "Let me show you how this 'toy' works." he hissed, and unleashed a torrent of electrical energy.

The shield flickered out just as the torrent hit, overwhelmed by the sheer power. Jeremy's eyes widened in terror for a split second before the bolt engulfed him. He convulsed violently as the electricity coursed through him, the air filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh and hair.

His scream was cut short, and when the bolt finally ceased, Jeremy slumped to the ground, his body charred and smoking, lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Zain winced. He heard the wet splatter of vomit on the ground beside him. He didn’t need to look to confirm what he already knew; the harsh reality of their situation was proving too much for one of his classmates. The acrid smell of vomit mixed with the metallic tang of blood filled the air. Everyone did their first time, but he simply pushed down the sick and continued watching.

A fool with psychotic problems.

The other students stood frozen, horror etched on their faces as they stared at the grim scene before them, but Zain was far removed from it now.

His only problem was the new silhouette appearing on Jeremy's corpse.

[ HP: 75% ]

[ MP: 77% ]

His mana and health had recovered a little. But the ethereal figure looked quite solid. He might attract the attention of others, but there was also the chance to acquire Soul stat. More than what he had gathered.