As the sun sank low and shadows stretched across the endless fields, Constantine marched down the snaking, muddy path. "Umbra, come. Let's keep moving," he muttered. Shadows shifted, and a wolf emerged beside him like a fish slipping from water. He looked over his shoulder, his hut now only a tiny dot in the distance. ‘This is for the best.’

Umbra trotted along beside him as he resumed his walk. His mind wandered, weighing his options. The nearby town was out of the question with the wolf in tow. ‘A predatory monster wolf in a town? What could go wrong… And it’s expensive too. Maybe another village?’

He shook his head, feeling a familiar sourness tighten his mouth. He was tired of humans and the constant chaos they brought with them. All he craved was solitude—a quiet place to immerse himself in magic.

He chuckled quietly, lifting his eyes to the snowy peaks on the horizon, their white caps piercing through the clouds. ‘No wonder those sects always settle in such isolated locations.’

A thought sparked in his mind, and his brows furrowed as he continued on. He was no longer the weak, feeble orphan barely surviving from day to day. Now, he could feel the furnace of mana burning in his core and the reassuring weight of his spear on his back.

‘That might be it. I’ll settle further away from human settlements. Not so far that it’d be inconvenient to visit town for supplies or riddled with powerfull monsters, but not close enough to be constantly bothered.’

Lost in thought, he nearly missed the abrupt growl from Umbra. Her black fur stood on end, ears twitching, ruby-red eyes locked on something in the fields. Constantine tensed, a wisp of mana rising into his eyes, sharpening his vision with a tingling warmth.

A man stood in the fields, an axe slung over his shoulder. Recognition flickered across Constantine’s face as he noticed the plague marks on the man’s skin. ‘It’s him. The suspicious figure from the village. ‘Was he following me?’

The man raised his head, their eyes locking. A sickly-green glow flickered in his gaze, like fireflies trapped in a jar.

‘Is he a cultivator? Constantine’s thoughts raced as he swiftly reached for his spear. ’No, I’ve been close to him before, but I never felt any aura. Maybe he’s hiding it... perfectly.’ He tightened his grip on his spear, pulling it off his back, his mind racing ‘Run or fight?’ He measured his odds, fingers covered in sweat.

In an instant, the man blurred, crossing five meters in a single leap, closing the distance between them only to fifteen meters. His eyes flickered to Constantine's spear before his lips curled into a grin, revealing sharp, yellow teeth.

Constantine swallowed, his anxiety spiking. ‘No running, then. He’s too fast.’ He wasn’t a warrior; he wasn’t a fighter. If he could avoid facing a foe with unknown abilities, he would. But this time, running wasn’t an option.

The air seemed to shimmer as Constantine silently drew on the mana stored behind his stomach. Warmth spread through him, pushing back against the chill of the autumn evening.

“Hahaha.” The man’s laughter echoed through the fields, jagged and loud. “Why the fear, boy? Why point your weapon at your good neighbor? This uncle just wants you to die in agony for the Lord of Plagues! The Lord of Plagues will feast on your Qi-rich flesh, boy.”

Now, Constantine was sure the man’s intention weren’t friendly. He channeled gaseous mana into his skin, weaving it into runes. At the same time, the core embedded within his armband mellowed, steadying his grip on the spear and grounding him.

The man’s laughter and grin faltered as if sensing it. He lunged forward, wordlessly, axe raised, cutting through the air with terrifying speed.

‘Shit, he must have sensed the liquid mana!’ Constantine cursed. The runes were only half-formed—he’d acted too rashly, alerting his foe.

Meanwhile, the wolf melted into the shadows, vanishing from sight. Constantine didn’t need to speak to her—he already knew what she intended.

Heart pounding, Constantine steadied his breath, time seeming to slow. With his spell still not finished, he aimed his spear. The hot, liquid mana poured into the weapon, electricity crackling and sparking.

In the meantime, the man streaked across the field like a dark arrow loosed from a bow, his axe gleaming under the bluish electric light. Constantine’s pulse thundered in his ears as he scrambled back, his footing nearly slipping on the uneven ground. He thrust his spear forward, lightning crackling down its length and scattering bright arcs around it.

The man veered to the side, keeping a safe distance from the lightning-charged spear. His green eyes glowed, locked onto Constantine like a predator stalking its prey, not leaving the spear for even a single moment.

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“An artifact?! That was that pulse of QI?!” He mumbled. And then, suddenly, he rushed from the side and closed the distance in an instant, each step faster than the last.

At last, the final rune ignited. Not wasting even a single moment, Constantine poured mana into his fingertips, feeling the heat and raw energy swell in his palms. Fire, summon, move, forward—all activated.

Flames erupted, lighting up the field as the fire streamed out of his palm and engulfed the man. His green eyes flickered in surprise, and with a swift backward jump, he leaped out of the flames like a fish out of a pond.

His skin was charred, his hair gone, and his clothes still burning. Yet, he moved forward, circling around Constantine once more, his glowing eyes searching for an opening.

Constantine’s stomach lurched as he cut off the flames, he couldn’t risk mana overdosage.

Constantine’s hands trembled, burning with the mana fueling his spear. He gritted his teeth, shifting his spear and trying to keep it aimed at the man circling him, like a protective barrier. ‘He is still moving. How? He should be screaming in pain.’

Shadows moved in behind the man. It took all his will to keep a smile from tugging at the corners of Constantine’s mouth. ‘Right, I need to keep him distracted. Just like this.’

Tne, his wolf emerged from the shadows like a predator from a dark sea. She lunged at the man from behind, her eyes blazing with mana. The man staggered, realization flashing across his face just as her claws sank into his back and her jaws snapped at his neck. His body stiffened, and with an enraged scream, he swung his axe in a wide arc. But the wolf vanished just as quickly.

‘Now’, Constantine thought, thrusting his spear forward. Mana exploded in his legs, propelling him forward with deadly speed. The sensation of tearing through flesh, muscle, and bone blended with the fiery heat of mana as the spear drove deep into the bleeding man’s chest. Electricity crackled through his flesh, sizzling and burning.

For a brief moment, Constantine watched the lightning snake across the man’s skin, lighting up the night and searing into his wounds. The man twitched, his muscles spasming, the electric current wreaking havoc through his nervous system.

Constantine, unwilling to underestimate the man, seized the opportunity and opened his palm. The last bead of the core melted, and flames exploded from his hand, engulfing the paralyzed man in an inferno.

He stepped forward, the heat of the flames blasting against his face, pushing the spear deeper, driving it through the burning man’s chest, until it emerged from his back.

The man’s screams reached a piercing crescendo before they were cut off abruptly. His body sagged against the spear, impaled, the charred remnants of his flesh crackling in the fire. Then, with a wet sound, his body ruptured in an explosion of pus, bile, and blackened blood.

Constantine recoiled, yanking his spear free, and stumbled back. A swarm of flies flew from the gaping wound. Rats, bloated and black, spilled out, trying to escape the fire.

The heat of his flames intensified, his palm still trained on the corpse. Inferno engulfed it along with the swarm of rodents a final. Constantine stood motionless, like a statue, as the last spark of liquid mana fizzled out, and the flames vanished.

‘Definitely not an orthodox cultivator. Maybe a demonic cultivator? Or maybe he wasn’t even a cultivator at all.’ Constantine pondered, as he remembered the man speaking of a lord of plagues. His behavior, his madness, and ferocity reminded him of religious zealots. ‘Maybe a demon worshipper?’

He already knew there were other power systems out there like the god worshipping demigods that once ruled over the world.

He was even sure there was a mention of them somewhere in his old teacher’s library, ‘Implant, print the passage on demon worshippers and cultivators from the save books.’

<<------------>>

Demonic cultivators

There are those fools who, in their impatience or lack of talent, stray from the righteous path of cultivation. They abandon discipline and virtue, choosing instead to embrace vile, corrupt techniques, feeding on malevolent energies. These dark methods prey on weak wills, promising power without effort. Their rise may be swift, and their growth may seem extraordinary, but it is hollow. Their actions are vile, their hearts poisoned.

<<------------>>

Demon worshippers

Like those who fell for the lies of the false gods, their priests, and demigods, they are blinded by their faith. Their power isn’t their own, it is just borrowed. Instead of taking their fate into their own hands, they are just puppets and tools for their masters. Albeit, demon worshippers are even worse, their masters requiring them to commit despicable evil acts.

<<------------>>

‘I wonder how much of this is just propaganda.’ Constantine frowned at the overly poetic text.

A bark awakened him out of his stupor. His dark wolf bathed in shadows stood beside him. Momentarily, Constantine felt a pang of joy. “You have done a great job.” He could appreciate the help his wolf provided. Without her timely attack, he wasn’t sure how the battle might have ended.

‘My strength isn’t still enough.’ Albeit the battle wasn’t without gain as he made some observations. ‘Lightning is much more efficient than fire as it paralysis enemies even if they are able to survive for a bit and resist pain. The only problem is its shorter reach.’ Even with the direction of move rune, lightning spells quickly lost their power with distance as he discovered when messing with them. ‘When considering the physical properties of electricity and the resistance of the air it makes sense. It would be worth it to look into solutions.’

He didn’t believe it was impossible with magic at his disposal. Constantine glanced at the remaining ash. A new thought made him glance over his shoulder back toward the village, ‘I should check his house. He wasn’t exactly a mortal.’ His funds weren’t infinite, he needed to replenish them.

“Let’s go.” He whispered at his wolf and strode down the road toward the village. As far as he knew, the man lived alone in a shack on the village’s edge.