Aveline, Thalric, and Lyssa stepped into the burning town, the air thick with smoke and the stench of charred wood. Flames licked the crumbling remains of homes. Aveline clenched her fists at the sight, her face tight with barely restrained fury.

"Hold yourself," Thalric said. "We’ll get our chance to end this. Saria won’t escape."

Aveline took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes still burning with anger.

The trio made their way through the inferno, weaving past fallen beams and debris until they reached the untouched district of Valtheran. The sudden transition from destruction to calm felt almost jarring. The manor stood atop a hill in the middle of the town, unscathed.

Inside, Darius awaited them. His sharp grin widened as his gaze fell on Aveline. "Welcome back, Saintess," he said with mock cheer. "Your comrades’ souls have been put to good use, I assure you." He chuckled.

Aveline’s nails dug into her palms, her anger simmering beneath the surface.

Before she could respond, Lyssa interjected, "We’re here for business. I have something to purchase."

Darius arched a brow. "Ah, so quick to gather souls, Lyssa. You’re the second to visit this neutral ground. Arayn was the first. I didn’t expect you to keep pace with him."

Thalric stepped forward. "Where did he go?"

Darius gave a sly smile. "That, my friend, is valuable information. Perhaps you’d like to buy it?"

Lyssa dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. "Not today. I need an Infernal Codex of Warding Shadows."

Darius stroked his chin thoughtfully. "An Infernal Codex of Warding Shadows will cost you 100 souls."

Without hesitation, Lyssa unfurled her Soul Gathering Scroll. A faint blue glow emanated from it as wisps of energy swirled out, drawn into the Ritual Lantern on Darius’s desk. The lantern flared to life, its light dimming as the souls were consumed.

Darius retrieved the codex and handed it to her, the leather-bound tome emanating a faint, sinister aura. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Lyssa said. "I’ll need supplies. Potions and essentials."

Darius nodded, assembling the requested items with swift efficiency. He placed the goods on the counter and leaned back, his smirk never fading. "It’s always a pleasure doing business with you. Come back anytime."

As the three turned to leave, the door creaked open, and a figure entered. A woman stepped into the room. Lyssa’s breath caught as her heart raced. She couldn’t help but stare at the newcomer’s striking features, her beauty like a sudden light piercing the gloom.

Alice had arrived.

Alice paused in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the group. "Oh, I didn’t realize you had guests. I’ll come back later," she said, her tone polite but detached.

Before she could leave, Lyssa stepped forward hurriedly. "Wait! We’re done here. We were just leaving."

Alice’s gaze lingered on the trio for a moment. She nodded. "Good luck with the match," she said simply.

As they stepped out into the quiet street of town, the night’s chill brushing against them, Thalric broke the silence. "So, that’s Alice. She really is beautiful. No wonder you’ve fallen for her, Master."

Lyssa flushed, her composure faltering. "What? No! That’s… not true!" she stammered, though her reddening face betrayed her denial.

Aveline smirked faintly but kept her tone even. "Alice is unique, that’s for certain. My class lets me see someone’s kill count, and she’s never killed a sapient being. Not one. Her soul is almost too pure for the daughter of the Sovereign."

Thalric scoffed. "Unlike her brother, I assume. That man is the very embodiment of evil. I still want another fight with him."

Lyssa glanced at him, concern shadowing her features. "Are you sure we can win? Is your left arm… alright now?"

Thalric raised his left arm, flexing his fingers. The memory of Arayn severing it was still fresh, but the regeneration ability had done its work, leaving it whole once more.

"It’s fine," he said. "And that’s exactly why I want revenge."

Aveline crossed her arms. "Arayn can wait. Stopping Saria comes first."

Lyssa nodded in agreement. "True, but how are we supposed to stop them?"

Before anyone could answer, two figures emerged from the shadows of a nearby alley. Valen’s confident voice broke the uneasy silence. "Then why not join forces with us? We have a plan."

Lyssa froze, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the newcomers. She quickly moved behind Thalric, peeking out cautiously.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Thalric stepped forward, his posture tense. "And why should we trust anything you say?"

A third figure appeared. Eryndor’s tone was calm but pleading. "Because you need to. I want to stop Saria too. Please, trust us."

Aveline’s gaze shifted to Eryndor, her expression sharp. "You’re working with Valen now?"

Eryndor inclined his head. "Yes, but only until we stop Saria. After that, we’ll go our separate ways."

Aveline turned to Lyssa, her voice softening slightly. "Eryndor can be trusted."

Lyssa hesitated, studying Eryndor’s face before nodding slowly. "Alright. Can we hear your plan first?"

---

In the depths of the forest, the faint crackle of a fire broke the stillness. Arayn sat cross-legged by the flames, his eyes half-closed as he muttered in an ancient demonic tongue. A crimson orb floated above his hand, its surface pulsating like a beating heart as he focused on maintaining its form.

The quiet was interrupted by the rustle of leaves and the faint hum of wings. Soren stepped into the clearing, his giant winged frog demon stood by his side. The creature carried a limp Bloodthorn Beast in its jaws, its sharp teeth embedded in the beast's flesh.

Soren put on a triumphant smile on his face. "I’ve done it! My first magical beast hunt is complete."

Arayn let the crimson orb dissipate, yawning as he stretched his arms lazily. "Boring," he said, his tone flat. "Is this really the fighting style you envisioned for yourself?"

Soren frowned, the excitement dimming from his expression. "What do you think I should do, then?"

Arayn leaned forward slightly. "Ask yourself why you became a class holder in the first place. What’s your purpose?"

Soren’s brows furrowed as he thought for a moment. "I want to paint something incredible," he said finally. "Something that defies reason, in an environment no one else could survive."

Arayn nodded. "Then when you paint, you’ll be immobile. You need to prioritize your defense above all else. Leave the offense to your familiars. Become a fortress, Soren. A stronghold that nothing can breach."

Soren’s eyes lit up with understanding, and he immediately raised his hands, casting an [Camouflage Barrier] around them. The reflective light of protective magic surrounded the clearing, and he grinned. "I won’t leave this barrier. I’ll fight from here."

With a quick hand gesture, he summoned two more winged frog demons. They croaked ominously as they hopped forward, ready to act. "Lure more beasts here," Soren commanded them. "Keep them busy outside the barrier."

Arayn nodded. "This is a good start. Follow this path. In time, gather abilities that enhance your fortress. Arm it with magic formations. Strengthen your defense until no one can break through it."

Soren grinned, determination etched on his face. "I will. I’ll become unstoppable."

They sat in silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. Arayn’s voice broke through the stillness as he began chanting once more in the ancient demon tongue. A crimson orb flickered to life above his palm.

Soren watched intently, his curiosity growing with each word. He couldn’t help but stare, and eventually, Arayn glanced at him. "What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Soren hesitated before speaking. "What are you doing?"

Arayn smirked, the faintest hint of amusement playing on his lips. "I’ll teach you something valuable," he said. Extending his hand forward, he uttered, "[Inferno Torrent]."

A beam of searing energy erupted from his palm, blazing a path through the darkness before fading into the distance.

Without pause, Arayn began chanting again in ancient demon language. This time, the orb he conjured was smaller, and as he finished the incantation, another [Inferno Torrent] burst forth—this one thinner, dimmer, and less intense.

Arayn turned to Soren. "Did you notice the difference?" he asked.

Soren tilted his head, frowning slightly. "The second one was smaller," he said.

Arayn nodded. "Why do you think it was smaller?"

Soren hesitated, then answered, "You chanted something before casting it."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Arayn’s mouth. "Correct. That ‘something’ is called the ancient demon language," he explained. Without further preamble, he extended his hand and said, "[Inferno Torrent]."

A beam of energy surged into the air, blazing briefly before fading into the night. Lowering his hand, Arayn turned back to Soren. "That was the ability without chanting in the ancient demon language. Its form and power are fixed. We can’t alter it."

He paused for a moment, letting the information sink in before continuing. "However, by using the ancient demon language, we can modify a demonic spell as long as its core remains unchanged. We can adjust its form, its power, even its property."

Soren leaned forward, his interest piqued. "And normal spells?"

"Normal spells," Arayn said, "can only be modified through the magic language."

Soren’s eyes gleamed with understanding as he absorbed Arayn’s words, the gears in his mind already turning.

Soren glanced at Arayn, hesitation flickering in his gaze. "Can I learn the ancient demon language?"

Arayn leaned back, his crimson eyes narrowing. "You’ll need a patron for that," he replied. "It’s not something I can just teach, but," he added, a faint smirk curling his lips, "if you can reach level 15 before the deathmatch ends, I’ll find a patron for you myself."

Soren’s curiosity deepened. "The deathmatch… are you confident you’ll win?"

Arayn scoffed. "Foolish question. Never doubt your master. I always have the upper hand when I operate. Always."

Soren straightened, embarrassed by his own doubt. "I’m sorry. I won’t question you again."

Before Arayn could respond, the distant rustling of leaves and the croaks of the demon frogs signaled their return. The winged beasts emerged from the trees, a dozen Bloodthorn Beasts chasing them.

Arayn observed them. "Defeat all but one," he instructed Soren. "Petrify the last one with your Corlust Eyes."

Soren nodded, turning to his three demon frogs. "Hello, listen to my order," he said. "Take them down, but leave one alive."

The frogs leaped into the fray. The first frog spat a stream of venom, the acidic liquid hissing as it splashed onto a Bloodthorn Beast, melting its bristles and burning through its hide. The beast shrieked and lunged, only to be intercepted by another frog that clamped its massive jaws around its neck, ending the fight in a sickening crunch.

The remaining beasts retaliated, their spines bristling before they launched a barrage of sharp quills. One frog flapped its bat wings, dodging mid-air, while another used its bulk to shield its companion, the quills embedding harmlessly into its thick hide.

With a low croak, the third frog leapt behind the beasts, spitting a wide arc of poison. The corrosive spray incapacitated three of them at once, their limbs locking up as the venom spread through their veins. One by one, the frogs systematically dismantled the pack until only one Bloodthorn Beast remained, snarling and panting, its spines raised defensively.

Soren's eyes glowed with an eerie crimson light. The beast froze, its body stiffening as though caught in an invisible grip. Slowly, its movements ceased entirely.

Arayn’s voice cut through the silence. "Now, paint it. Keep your Corlust Eyes active while you work."

Soren didn’t reply. He simply retrieved his tools. He began painting the beast, his glowing eyes fixed on his subject, ensuring the petrification held steady. The firelight flickered over his canvas, illuminating the meticulous detail in his work as the night pressed on around them.