Ronan stood still—his body bathed in crimson flames, licking the air like wrathful serpents. The fire didn't burn his flesh. It burned his soul. The temperature in the room skyrocketed, but it wasn't heat that made the air unbearable.
It was malice.
A suffocating pressure twisted the atmosphere as if the building itself was holding its breath.
Something had changed. Something ancient and monstrous had been let loose.
Ryan, Jake, and Liam froze.
Their eyes were wide—not just with fear, but with the primal recognition that something unnatural now stood before them.
"W-What's happening to this loser?!" Ryan stumbled back, his voice shaking.
Jake knelt like a sinner before a god of wrath, his ruined hand still crushed in Ronan's grip. His face had turned pale. His body convulsed with pain.
"N-No way... You—You didn't awaken… You weren't supposed to!" Liam's voice cracked as he screamed his denial, as if shouting it could undo the horror rising before him.
Ronan tilted his head, a crooked smile playing on his bloodied lips.
CRACK!
"AAAAAAAARKH!" Jake let out a scream so guttural, so feral, it didn't sound human anymore as his entire arm exploded in a spray of shattered bone and flesh.
Ronan's grip didn't just break it—it detonated it.
But Ronan wasn't done.
His fingers reached into the wreckage of Jake's arm, digging deep until he yanked out a jagged piece of bone—still dripping with blood and marrow.
And then—
STAB!
He rammed it into Jake's throat.
Not once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each stab was vicious, raw, and personal.
Blood gushed like a geyser. Jake clawed at his own throat, gurgling and sputtering as air, spit, and blood mixed into a choking symphony of death.
His eyes bulged from their sockets. His mouth opened, gasping for a final scream—
But only silence came.
Jake collapsed, twitching. A puddle of blood widened beneath him like a red halo.
Ryan screamed in terror. "WHAT THE HELL IS HE?!"
He raised his hand, attempting to activate his ability—
But he was too slow.
In a flash, Ronan appeared before him and delivered a devastating punch to his chest, so powerful that his ribcage caved inward. His ribs shattered, his lungs collapsed, and blood spewed from his mouth.
Ryan's body was flung across the room, slamming into the wall. His limbs twitched, his breath ragged and fading—like a dying candle in the wind.
Then, Ronan grabbed a long wooden beam from the floor and hurled it straight at him.
BANG!
It struck Ryan's head dead-on, splitting it open. Blood splattered everywhere. His body slumped lifelessly. His existence ended in an instant.
Liam watched in sheer horror and disbelief. His heart pounded violently, his body trembled, and his legs felt weak.
Ronan's gaze shifted toward him.
"P-Please…" he whimpered. "I… I was just joking before! We were just messing around! I didn't mean—"
CRACK!
Ronan's boot crashed into Liam's knee, snapping it sideways. Bone erupted from his skin. Blood sprayed like a fountain.
Liam howled like a dying animal, thrashing on the ground, screaming as his body betrayed him.
But Ronan didn't flinch.
He walked forward slowly, like a reaper without haste.
Then, he grabbed Liam by the hair and slammed his body to the ground, flipping him onto his back.
Ronan crouched over him.
Face to face.
The tormentor was now the terrified one.
"You know," Ronan murmured, voice cold and hollow, "I've always wondered… what it feels like to crush a human skull. With. My. Hands."
"Wait! WAIT—"
BAM!
Ronan's fist crashed into Liam's face.
"I'm sor—"
BAM!
A tooth flew out, bouncing on the floor.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
His nose collapsed. His eyes swelled shut. His jaw dislocated.
BAM!
His skull cracked. Blood erupted in a fountain, mixing with brain matter as Ronan's fists turned bone into mush.
BAM!
Something popped—something deep. And Liam stopped screaming.
But Ronan didn't stop.
His knuckles broke. Then healed. Then broke again.
He kept going.
Until finally—
SPLAT.
There was nothing left but pulp. The remains of Liam's head were unrecognizable—a crater of gore, smashed into the concrete.
Silence.
Only Ronan stood.
Surrounded by the corpses of the monsters who once preyed on him.
The crimson flames still flickered around him, bathing the carnage in an unholy glow.
[Devil's Covenant: 60%]
His breathing slowed.
Blood dripped from his knuckles, down his arms, soaking the floor.
And then—
He laughed.
A low, cracked, broken laugh. A laugh not of joy… but of release.
Tonight, the weak Ronan Raylinde died.
What stood now—was something else entirely.