Malzareth's laughter reverberated like a haunting echo. Without warning, he cast [Soul Rend]. Shadowy tendrils shot toward Arayn.

Reacting instantly, Arayn activated [Soul Rend]. His own tendrils lashed out, colliding mid-air with Malzareth's attack. A violent shockwave rippled through as both forces canceled each other.

Arayn's eyes narrowed. "To think you possess an ability like mine."

Malzareth smirked, his voice dripping with contempt. "Mortal, I am superior in every way."

Arayn's lips curled into a faint smile. "Let's see if that's true."

With a swift motion, he hurled three [Cursed Fangs] at Malzareth. The projectiles whistled through the air, closing in on their target. But Malzareth's form shimmered. His body turned ethereal, and the fangs passed harmlessly through him.

In a blink, Malzareth reappeared, his speed amplified by his supernatural prowess. He closed the distance between them, his strides impossibly fast.

Arayn’s eyes flared with determination as his [Demonic Aura] erupted, saturating the air with oppressive energy. Malzareth’s speed faltered slightly, his movements slowing.

Arayn raised his voice, chanting, "Kharz'othan, vorrak xyl’na tal!"

The fangs began to tremble in the distance, reversing their trajectory. But Malzareth was already upon him, his fist a blur as it connected with Arayn's chest. The impact was devastating, sending Arayn hurtling into a nearby tree.

Malzareth straightened. "Pathetic," he said in disdain.

A sudden hiss sliced through the air. The three [Cursed Fangs], now glowing with dark energy, plunged into Malzareth’s back. His expression twisted in surprise and fury as they detonated in a deafening explosion.

Smoke and dark flames engulfed the area, and as the dust settled, Arayn pushed himself up from the ground, coughing but grinning. "Superiority, you said? Doesn't look like it from here."

Malzareth emerged from the haze, his form battered but defiant, his eyes blazing with hatred. "I won't let you die. I will turn you into a spirit slave and torture you for eternity!"

Arayn activated [Phantom Step], his figure flickering like a ghost as he closed the distance in an instant. With a surge of dark energy, he unleashed [Soul Rend], black tendrils lashing out toward Malzareth. The demon countered with [Ethereal Step], his body dissolving into a ghostly form, sidestepping the attack. But [Soul Rend] was no ordinary strike. It didn’t only target the physical—it sought the soul too.

The tendrils found purchase in Malzareth's ethereal arm, tearing through it with a sickening rip. Malzareth reappeared at a distance, clutching his now-severed arm, a scream of agony echoing through the forest.

Arayn’s expression remained cold. He gave no time for reprieve. Three [Cursed Fangs] materialized in his hand before streaking toward the wounded demon. Malzareth growled, raising his remaining hand to summon [Soul Rend], the swirling black tendrils swiping the fangs away mid-flight. The effort left him panting, blood pouring from the stump where his arm had been.

The demon’s eyes darted around frantically, landing on a nearby deer frozen in place, its wide eyes reflecting terror. Malzareth hissed an incantation, casting [Soul Shackle] to paralyze the creature. In a blur of motion, he lunged at the deer, his mouth opening unnaturally wide as he drained its soul.

Arayn watched with interest. "Impressive. You have the abilities I desire."

Malzareth wiped the blood from his mouth and snarled. "You haven’t seen all I can do, mortal."

He raised his remaining hand, his body pulsing with dark energy as he invoked [Essence Infusion]. The soul of the deer burned within him, fueling his strength. The ground trembled, and a wave of immense power radiated from the demon.

Malzareth growled, his form turning ethereal as he activated [Ethereal Step] and charged at Arayn. Arayn responded in kind, using [Phantom Step] to maintain the distance between them. As he moved, his voice echoed in ancient demonic tongue, "Va'zul thas, xe'ra miran. Kos'alai ma'zerok."

With each step, a black clone materialized. Malzareth pursued relentlessly, only to find himself intercepted as the clones erupted into bursts of black smoke when approached. Though unharmed, his vision was shrouded in swirling darkness, forcing him to rely on instinct rather than sight.

From within the obscuring smoke, Arayn’s hand darted forward, hurling several [Cursed Fangs]. They streaked through the air, piercing the haze before detonating in rapid succession. The force of the explosions ripped through the area.

Then Malzareth emerged, his body battered and scorched, dark ichor dripping from his wounds. His red eyes burned with fury, but his ethereal form had vanished.

Arayn smirked. "What's wrong? Can't turn ethereal anymore?"

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Malzareth’s roar was primal, his voice shaking the air. "I will kill you!"

But as he surged forward, Arayn emitted his [Demonic Aura]. The oppressive energy weighed down on Malzareth, his movements sluggish and labored. Before the demon could close the distance, Arayn stepped forward, his palm pressing firmly against Malzareth's chest.

"[Soul Rend]," Arayn intoned. Dark tendrils erupted from his hand, piercing through Malzareth’s chest and bursting out of his back. The demon’s body convulsed, his form beginning to disintegrate into ash.

Malzareth’s voice cracked with rage and despair. "Curse you, human!" he spat, his body crumbling as his essence was torn apart.

As the last remnants of his form dissolved into the wind, a crimson sword clattered to the ground.

[You dexterity has increased+2]

As the lingering sensation of the potion's effects faded, Arayn paused, flexing his fingers as a satisfied smile crossed his face. The potion had served its purpose, pushing his dexterity up by four. "I'll need to ask Darius for a potion that can permanently boost my wisdom stat," he murmured to himself.

[Name: Arayn

Class: Demonic Acolyte

Level: 17

Stats:

Strength: 23

Dexterity: 21

Constitution: 34

Intelligence: 34

Wisdom: 18

Charisma: 28]

Bringing up his status window, he quickly confirmed the increase, a spark of satisfaction flickering in his gaze. Closing the interface, his attention shifted to the crimson sword lying amidst the ash where Malzareth had stood moments before. Reaching down, he picked it up, the weapon cold yet thrumming faintly with latent energy.

“This isn’t an ordinary catalyst. This… this is a demonic artifact.”

Holding the blade firmly, he channeled a trickle of mana into it. Immediately, his mind was flooded with knowledge—the sword’s name and its abilities.

A grin curved his lips as he murmured, “So, you grant me the powers of Malzareth… This blade is beyond extraordinary.” His voice was tinged with admiration as he studied the weapon, its sleek surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly in response to his touch.

He exhaled, his grip tightening on the hilt. “I’ll need to give you to the cult for now, but after the deathmatch, I swear I’ll retrieve you. You’re far too valuable to leave behind.” With one last glance at the blade, he sheathed it carefully.

---

In a valley rested between two hills, a faint moonlight trickled down. Lyssa kneeled as she drew a magic circle. Her hands etched the final rune into the drawing. She wiped the sweat from her brow, feeling the cool night air.

She stood, taking a long breath. “The magic formation is set.”

Her heart pounded. She glanced at the symbols beneath her, glowing softly in the dark. She wasn’t sure if she could defeat the demon she was about to summon. In fact, could she even survive this deathmatch? All other candidates seemed powerful.

She thought back to that day, her father’s harsh voice echoing in her mind. “You will enter the deathmatch,” he had said, giving no room for choice. The memory hurt. It made her chest tighten. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She hadn’t asked for any of this. She didn’t want to be part of the cult. She just wanted a normal life. A friend. A simple, peaceful life.

But Alice... Lyssa’s mind wandered to her. It must be nice to be Alice. No worries. No battles. Just the freedom to be whatever she wanted. Lyssa could almost picture it—being close to Alice, laughing, sharing secrets. It felt like a dream, too far away to reach.

But then, a thought struck her. "If I win... I could be her fiancée." The idea stirred something in her chest. A spark of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was something. That goal would be enough to push through, to survive the battle. She could endure. She had to.

The tears dried. Her resolve hardened. She wasn’t backing down now. The summoning was almost complete. One more step. And maybe, just maybe, this would all be worth it.

Lyssa knelt before the glowing magic circle, her hands trembling as she placed the catalyst at its center. The item gleamed faintly under the moonlight, its power crackling against the air. With a deep breath, she reached into her robe and pulled out a crumpled note.

"Ra'garoth...K’thar Zul'Dor, I invoke thee. From the deepest abyss, where shadows are born, heed my call. By the blood... of the forsaken, by the fire of souls unchained, arise and answer thy summoner. Ra'garoth, unleash thy fury, awaken from the dark! O demon, the abyss dweller, manifest thy power through the veil!"

Her voice, barely a whisper at first, grew stronger as she began to chant. The ground trembled beneath her, the circle lighting up with a blinding brilliance. Her legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the cold earth, too weak to stay upright. Her chest heaved, and the world around her spun. A chilling laughter echoed through the valley.

"Is this the one who dares summon me?" The voice resonated through her very bones. A shadow materialized in front of her—tall, imposing, its eyes burning with fire.

Lyssa couldn’t move. The demon’s presence filled the air, suffocating. She could barely lift her head to meet his gaze.

The demon’s smile twisted. "Pathetic. Did you truly think you could form a contract with me, little summoner?"

Her heart pounded, her breath ragged. She had done it. She had summoned him. But now, she wasn't sure if she had the strength to face the creature she had called.

"So, little summoner, do you have a request?" he growled. "If not, I shall return to the nether and leave you to your fate."

Lyssa’s heart hammered in her chest. She had feared this moment. But she couldn’t afford to hesitate now. She held her breath, steadying her shaking hands.

"Wait," she said.

Ra'garoth's sharp gaze narrowed, intrigued. "Speak quickly, then."

With a nervous gulp, Lyssa forced herself to meet the demon’s eyes. "Give your life to me," she said, her voice trembling.

Ra'garoth’s laughter filled the night. "Is this some sort of jest, mortal? If so, I have severely underestimated you. Turns out you are a funny circus comedian."

"I-I need it!" Lyssa stammered, desperation creeping into her words. "Please, I need your life. I can't do this without you."

For a moment, Ra'garoth was silent. Then, with a mocking chuckle, he spoke again. "Very well. If you truly seek it, you must earn it. Let’s have a battle. A battle to the death."

Lyssa’s stomach twisted. She could feel the demon's arrogance, the sheer weight of his power. He was underestimating her, thinking her weak. But she had prepared for this. She had no other choice.

The demon's massive form stepped out of the circle, and as he did, the magic circle beneath him flared to life, bright golden light pouring from it like a rising sun. The magic spread outward, sparking into life across the valley. More magic circles—dozens, hundreds—began to glow in the dark, illuminating the night.

The ground trembled. Then, with a deafening roar, colossal monsters began to materialize out of the very air around them. Giant serpents, hulking beasts with jagged horns, and enormous armored golems emerged, surrounding Ra'garoth in a tight ring.

"I-Impossible! What kind of summoning magic is this? Who are you, mortal? How can you command over expert-level monsters?" the demon demanded.