[Fethan's transformation shook the Reaper to its core. Its entire reality was collapsing. Humans weren't supposed to perceive, let alone wield, powers of such magnitude. As a servant of death and a natural force in its own right, the Reaper knew what that energy meant—it came from a source so vast and terrible it defied comprehension.]
The being from another universe had bestowed power upon what it considered a worthless human toy. That truth filled it with fear and a flood of unanswered questions. Fethan was no longer the same. The aura radiating from him had changed entirely. His eyes now burned with a killing will—a desire for vengeance sharp enough to sear.
What kind of power could make Hellhounds and even a Werewolf—creatures he had slain—submit to him, turning against their own kind in less than a day? The Werewolf's howl alone silenced the trembling courage of the wild Hellhounds. All those enemies that had plagued Fethan for hours were now his army.
The resurrected Werewolf crushed enemy Hellhounds with its bare hands. Dozens swarmed it, only to be ripped apart. Fethan's Hellhound spirits lunged in retaliation, engaging their still-living counterparts in chaotic battle. Though weaker than when alive, they reduced the pressure on Fethan significantly.
[Fethan Bloodstar] [Level: 25] [Class: Dark Magus] [Titles: Lord of the Everland, Cursed Son, Heir to Dark Magic, Manaless Mage, Top Graduate] [HP: 100/100] [Stamina: 100/100] [Holy Power: 2/0.2] [Mana: 20/20] [Soul Power: 200/200] [Divine Authority: 0] [Arcane Authority: 25] [Dark Authority: 25] [Magic Resistance: 20] [Curse Resistance: 20] [Strength: 24] [Endurance: 18] [Agility: 19] [Perception: 18] [Intelligence: 27]
Skills Everland Dominion:
Deathseer Eyes (C) LV.1Gate to Everland (B) LV.MAXSoul Harvest (A) LV.MAXSoul Fusion (S) LV.1Emperor of Spirit Magic (SS) LV.1God of Death's Descent (SSS) LV.1
General:
Basic Mana Control (E) LV.6
Martial Style:
Eastern Guardian Sword Style (D) LV.2
Spells:
Basic Magic Arrow (F) LV.5Magic Shield (E) LV.3Magic Bullet (F) LV.6Basic Physical Enhancement (E) LV.2
[God of Death's Descent (SSS) LV.1: Summon an Undying Army from Everland. Consumes Soul Coins and sustains spirit troops using soul power. Current troop cap: 100.]
Werewolf: 1 Soul Coin + 1 Soul Power/secHellhound: 0.01 Soul Coin + 0.01 Soul Power/sec
His stats had surged. Mana increased from 50 to 200. Every base attribute jumped by 10. Normally that kind of growth took years of training and grinding. Not for him. For a man once mocked as talentless, this was long-overdue compensation.
[Fethan has received a blessing from the God of the Dark Realm. He can never receive blessings from any other deity.] [Title Acquired: Heir from Beyond Realms. You can no longer gain EXP from the Dark Realm's creatures. However, your item drops, Soul Coin yield, stats, and EXP double when slaying creatures from the Dark Realm.] [Cursed: You no longer gain EXP from normal monsters.]
Fethan clutched his skull. Summoning 100 souls at once gave him a splitting headache.
'All points into Intelligence.' His INT rose from 27 to 30, dulling the pain and sharpening his focus.
[Warning: Reaching 30 INT. Further increases cost 2 points each.]
No surprise. He checked his Soul Power—it was draining rapidly.
'I need better strategy. Even with four times the soul power, it means nothing if that laundry ghost's still flying around.'
"Werewolf, ignore the small fry. Bring me that ragged cloak." Fethan ordered.
The Werewolf's eyes widened. It kicked aside charging Hellhounds and sprang toward the fleeing Reaper. Scythe met claw. A shriek followed as the Werewolf's HP dropped significantly.
'That Reaper can really hurt spirits—but fine. Just stall it!'
Fethan leapt atop a glowing blue Hellhound. Unlike its green-tinted kin, this one was larger, more solid, more alive.
"Go!" he commanded. His spirit hounds intercepted the living pack. They didn't fear death—they were already dead. Their bodies formed a living shield.
The Werewolf followed orders precisely. It kicked and chased, giving Fethan an opening. He heard the fox spirit's cry as blue fire ignited on his blade.
Eastern Guardian Sword Style – Form One: Demon Severance.
The Reaper swung its massive scythe. Phoenixfang clashed against it, ringing across the forest. It never imagined this human worm would reach it.
"@^!%#" it hissed, unleashing a torrent of spiritual pressure. But Fethan barely flinched—his resistance was too high.
The Werewolf struck it in the head, throwing it off. Fethan slashed again.
His blade cut it.
'It's vulnerable. I can kill it!'
Phoenixfang's strike bit into its cloak-shrouded form. It hurt. The Reaper reared back in shock. It now faced true danger.
It howled. The scythe glowed with cursed power. Its swings turned wide and furious, forcing both Fethan and the Werewolf back.
The Reaper's Scythe Style was like swordsmanship—less refined, but devastating. Wide arcs, high power. Fethan couldn't get close.
'Lumi, don't hold back. Use your full potential. Don't worry about my body. Let's kill it together.'
With thoughts synced, they moved as one. He adjusted with logic. The Hellhound's speed compensated. Phoenixfang deflected another deadly swing. Pain shot from fingers to shoulder.
The Reaper doubled its speed. But Fethan pressed closer, his blade a storm of relentless strikes. His lungs burned, his face flushed, every breath a furnace.
'I can feel it—Lumi's creativity flowing. My body's stronger now, closer to hers. We can do this!'
He didn't even notice the sync rate had increased to 10%.
Together, he and the Werewolf forced the Reaper back. He had no idea where it was leading him—until he saw it.
The grotesque stone relief.
'No…' Panic surged. He tried to retreat. But they'd crossed the treeline.
He was back in the ritual plaza.
Lumi's corpse still lay there.
The Reaper grinned. It began chanting in a high-pitched, bone-chilling voice. A black ritual circle formed beneath her body.
All of Fethan's fury erupted.
"How dare you—" "How dare you touch her!"
"Filthy, cheating bastard. I curse you with everything I am. You'll become the lowest slave—bound, shackled, never free."
He didn't care what it was planning. It had crossed the line.
He poured every last drop of mana into Phoenixfang. With Arcane Authority now at 20, the boost was monumental.
The Reaper flinched. It saw a mirage: a pink-haired girl overlapping the black-haired boy. Their movements synchronized. Two people in one shadow.
Blue fire turned crimson. The white blade bloomed with foxfire runes. The once-plain sword now looked divine.
Eastern Guardian Sword Style – Secret Form: Crimson Foxfire.
The Reaper heard the fox's scream in its skull. In a split-second gap in its swing, Fethan slipped in.
"See you in Everland, trash." He swung with flawless precision.
The blade carved a blazing circle of red flame around its soul-core. No scream. Only silence.
The Reaper tried to dodge—but the blast of Fethan's last attack came too fast.
The ritual circle shattered.
It couldn't believe it had been undone by this lowly creature. It had treated him like livestock.
But his final words hurt worse than any cut.
The red flames consumed it entirely.
Fethan collapsed.
[You acquired Illusory Soul: Unnamed Reaper (Orange Grade)] [Bonus: Dark Realm creature slain. EXP x2.] [Level up! Level up! Level up! Level up! Level up!] [Side Quest Complete: You've acquired the Reaper's Scythe, Ring, and Cloak. Claim them in Everland.] [Dark Realm God Pharaoh Black is watching you.]
'I did it. Killed it myself.' Fethan lay motionless. He'd hit Level 30 instantly—but couldn't move. The secret form had drained him completely.
Then came the growls.
Hellhounds had returned.
Fethan tried to rise. Couldn't. He was meat served on a platter.
"Huff... huff... I, in the name of—"
[Skill: God of Death's Descent is on cooldown. 12 hours remaining.]
'What?!' His eyes widened. He had deactivated it without realizing. No summons. No army.
As the hounds lunged—
A freezing killing intent swept in.
Even Fethan gagged. The Hellhounds froze. Some collapsed foaming at the mouth. Others whimpered. Instinct told them: Run. But they couldn't.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
A tall figure in black-and-white robes stepped onto the battlefield. A sword hung at his waist. His presence radiated the authority of a Demon Slayer—the government's most feared anti-dark mage unit.
He looked down at Lumi's corpse, then at Phoenixfang with a cold, unreadable gaze.
"My patience is short. Talk. Now, Fethan."
His voice was flat. His intent, lethal.
Fethan knew this man better than he knew any teacher.
Shiel Sterling.
Lumi's brother.
The strongest Demon Slayer in the country.
This was the first meeting—of the Dark Magus who would become a legend… and the executioner sworn to destroy his kind.