Darkness.
Cold. Endless. A void where even time seemed to lose its meaning. But within that abyss he felt something more—
Pain.
A sharp, searing agony dragged enough to bring him back to life from the brink of oblivion. His consciousness stirred, broken between life and death, but something pulled at him, refusing to let him go forcefully pulling him to life which he with his willpower cleanchet that thread of life disregarding the pain he was experiencing. The pain of his soul being cut.
[System Binding Successful.]
A cold, mechanical voice echoed within head.
[Umbral Devourer System Activated.]
His senses returned, one by one slowly. And as his senses return he felt something he felt the pain in his body which was far worse than being shot to death like his previous death. Flesh torn and charred from fire and blade marks, with blood seeping out without any rest bringing his body towards the gate which he just returned from death.
He felt anger boiling within him as to what he did to experience this to be reborn just to die.
As the anger and the intense emotions subside he looked around as to what and where he was. The acrid scent of burning wood. The distant screams of the dying. And beneath it all—the warmth of blood. His blood. His eyes flickered open, and he was met with chaos. The world around him was ablaze. Smoke filled the air, choking his lungs as he lay on the ground, barely clinging to life.
Weak.
The body he now inhabited felt fragile—bones barely holding together, muscles trembling from exertion. Every breath was a struggle. His vision was blurred, the world a swirl of fire and destruction. But he was alive.
Barely.
His heart pounded weakly in his chest, struggling to maintain a rhythm. The wounds were too deep. This body is going to die. The thought was cold. Detached. But death…
No. Not again.
Kael had just clawed his way back from death once. He wouldn't go quietly a second time.
[Emergency Protocol Engaged.]
[Host's current vessel is unsustainable.]
[Devour or Perish.]
He blinked. What the hell? That wasn't part of the game.
A surge of icy energy spread through his body, and instinctively—he knew what it was asking.
"Devour…?" His voice was barely a whisper, his throat raw and parched. And then… he felt it.
Beneath the pain and decay, another presence stirred. The boy. The original soul. Weak. Afraid. Clinging to life despite having no hope. "He's still here…" The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. But that wasn't the real problem.
The real problem was… there wasn't enough room for both of them.
Two souls. One body. And the body was too broken to sustain them both. One had to go.
But this soul—it didn't want to go.
"No… no… please…"
The voice was faint, barely a whisper, but it echoed through his mind. "Please… I can't… not like this…" The boy's soul stirred, pushing back, trying to reclaim what was his. "It's… my body…" Weak, yes. But determined. A flicker of will. A refusal to surrender. "I… I'll be useful… I can learn… I can…"
The boy's soul pulsed, and with it came a flood of memories.
A thin, frail figure, ribs jutting out from under his skin, his body barely surviving on scraps. "Eat faster, brat!" A hard slap knocked him to the ground, dirt mixing with the blood trickling from his lip. "Worthless. Useless. Why do we even keep you alive?" His father's voice echoed with contempt.
A cold night. Huddled by the dying embers of a fire, the boy's stomach twisted in hunger. His sister slept beside him, her breathing ragged, weaker by the day. "I have to get food…" The boy had ventured out that night, stealing a handful of potatoes from a neighbor. When his father found out… the beatings lasted for hours.
"I just… wanted to survive…" The boy's voice trembled, his memories pouring out in a desperate bid for mercy. "Please… let me live… I can be useful…" The fragments of his life, filled with pain and suffering, played like a broken reel. "I'll be better… I'll grow stronger…" "Don't… take this away…"
For a brief moment, Kael hesitated. The boy's pain was raw. Palpable. "He… just wanted to survive." It was a familiar feeling. But…
Familiarity meant nothing.
"Survival is the only law in this world. Mercy is a lie the weak tell themselves—opportunities exist, but only those ruthless enough to seize them will ever rise."
Kael had learned this lesson long ago, in a different life. Back then, in the shadows of corporate power and blood-stained deals, he had been nothing more than a pawn. A tool. Disposable. "People who hesitate die." His mind drifted to the countless backroom deals, the hushed assassinations, and the cold betrayals that had shaped his former life. "The weak don't get second chances."
He had seen it too many times—people who clung to morals and emotions were crushed beneath those who wielded power without hesitation. "In the end, power decides everything." And now, in this cruel medieval world, nothing had changed.
Strength was the only truth.
Mercy was a weakness that got people killed. And in this moment…
He was the predator.
The boy's soul was the prey.
"No room for weakness."
"I'm sorry."
The words were barely a whisper. But he wasn't.
[Devouring Initiated.]
Dark tendrils surged from within, coiling around the child's soul like serpents. The boy's soul fought harder now—thrashing, resisting. "No! Please!" But the tendrils pulled tighter, suffocating the last flicker of hope. "I… I don't… want to… die…" His voice faded.
And then…
Silence.
As the last vestiges of the boy's consciousness vanished, a faint echo remained. A whisper. "Please…" But the world doesn't listen to pleas.
[Devour Successful. Partial Regeneration Initiated.]
Kael's body convulsed violently as raw energy surged through him. His wounds—deep, jagged gashes that should have killed him—began to close. Flesh knitted together, sinew binding, and fractured bones mended with a sickening crunch. His body shuddered, rejecting death as the system poured the stolen vitality into his broken vessel.
"Argh…!"
Pain. Burning. Like molten iron coursing through his veins. But beneath the agony was life. His heart, which had been moments from stopping, beat stronger. His ragged breaths grew steadier. Strength—still faint, but undeniable—returned to his limbs.
The boy's life force or soul force was now his .
It wasn't enough to fully heal him. His body was still weak, still teetering on the edge of collapse. But…
He would not die.
Not today.
The pain was good.
It was a reminder. Power is earned through suffering. Strength is forged in agony. His fingers clenched, nails digging into the dirt. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn't stop. "This pain… I'll make it my foundation."
Weakness was temporary. But with power…
He would never be a pawn again.
The memories of the boy still lingered. A life of hardship. A world where weakness was punished. "I won't end up like him." A cold promise echoed in his mind. This world belonged to the strong.
And Kael was going to carve his place into it.
He clenched his fists, feeling the weak pulse of life coursing through his veins. The power of the system hummed faintly within him. "Survive first." His expression was cold. Calculating. "Then…"
"Thrive."