Chapter 229: Sip of Thought Comes with Price!
At the demon’s whereabouts.
Here, twelve shadowed figures slowly emerged from different corners of the places.
They were the Devil Contractors—mortals who had bound themselves to demons in exchange for forbidden power.
Among them stood the Shadow Disciple.
He stood upon a raised stone platform.
One by one, the Devil Contractors gathered before him. There were assassins, rogue mages, and even corrupted nobles who bore the mark of the demon pact on their skin—dark sigils faintly glowing in the brazier light.
Some bowed deeply; others knelt with heads lowered in fear.
Among the last to arrive was a man from Arcadia Academy, a professor.
His face was partially hidden behind a mask.
"Listen well, all of you." said the shadow disciple.
"From this day forward, anyone who commits a suspicious crime without the demon’s approval will face my judgment. And hear me clearly—" his tone hardened, "—not only will the culprit be killed, but their bloodline will be erased. Whole families, whole generations... wiped out."
A few contractors flinched.
He continued, his crimson eyes narrowing beneath the hood.
"But there is more. Recently, our patrols of demons have been slaughtered at the Ravencall Watchtower. Every corpse stripped of its core. Eighteen demons...were all gone."
"I trust none of you are foolish enough to betray us. But if any of you have knowledge of this hunter, speak now. If any of you find the culprit—" his voice dropped into a dangerous whisper, "—I will reward you with five Ancient Coins."
The promise of such a reward—ancient coins said to buy powers lost to time—sent a ripple through the room.
Greed flashed briefly in the eyes of several contractors, but no one dared speak.
The Arcadia professor stood silently among them.
(So someone killed eighteen demons at Ravencall? And stole their cores?)
(If I find whoever it is... five Ancient Coins could elevate me beyond even the demon’s reach.)
(But with over three hundred students at Arcadia alone, tracking the culprit will not be easy...)
He narrowed his eyes beneath the mask. "I’ll need to examine every trace slowly and carefully.
"You have your orders. Find the hunter. Bring me their head... or pray that I do not find you first."
A collective shiver passed through the gathered contractors as they bowed and melted back into the shadows, their figures vanishing into the night one by one.
Only the Arcadia professor lingered for a breath longer, watching the black flames gutter and die.
(Whoever you are... you’re bold. And reckless. Sooner or later, I will find you.)
Then he too disappeared into the darkness.
Arcadia Academy.
The next day, far away from the cold menace of the demon gathering, Kael stood in the quiet of a private training chamber deep within Arcadia Academy.
On the wooden table before him lay a single object that pulsed faintly in the dim light: a demon’s core.
He had collected eighteen of them from the Ravencall Watchtower during his night hunt, but bought only one.
Kael held it in his palm, feeling the subtle vibration that thrummed against his skin.
Taking a slow breath, he raised the core to his mouth.
The moment it touched his tongue, a surge of icy fire exploded through his body.
"—Tch!" Kael’s eyes widened as his veins lit up with black lightning. A torrent of dark mana flooded his spine, racing up through his nerves and muscles like a tidal wave of molten iron.
He staggered back, dropping to one knee as the core dissolved into a mist of shadow that poured into his chest.
"Kael!" he heard his own voice echo inside his mind, distorted and deeper.
"What... is this...?"
Black wisps of energy coiled from his skin like smoke, forming an eerie aura that shimmered with silver streaks. The training chamber trembled faintly under the sudden pressure.
"Dark... mana?" he whispered hoarsely, staring at his trembling hands. His fingertips glowed faintly, a faint silver sheen crawling across his knuckles.
His heart pounded—not from fear, but from something else. Power.
(This... this strength...)
He clenched his fists, feeling muscles tighten with new force.
The exhaustion of six days of relentless training seemed to vanish, replaced by a raw vitality that surged through every vein.
"I can feel it... it’s like... the strength of ten men," he muttered under his breath, standing upright again.
On impulse, he reached for the heavy sword leaning against the wall. The weapon felt lighter than ever as he lifted it with a single hand.
(So light... as if it’s part of me now.)
He swung.
BOOM!
The blade cut through the air with a sound like a thunderclap. The impact shattered a nearby training dummy in half, splinters flying across the chamber.
Kael stared at the blade, then at his own reflection in the polished steel. His eyes—once a sharp grey—now glimmered faintly with silver flecks.
"...This... is just one core," he whispered, almost in awe.
"What if I consume them all?"
For a brief moment, excitement flickered in his chest. But alongside it came a subtle chill, a faint whisper brushing the edge of his consciousness.
"Consume... more..."
The voice was faint, barely audible, but it slithered into his mind like a cold serpent.
Kael gritted his teeth and shook his head sharply. "No. I control the power. Not the other way around."
Still, his hands trembled slightly as he lowered the sword.
Then Kael wiped the sweat from his brow and sheathed his sword.
"What do I do with all those eighteen cores?"
"Power?"
"I could use this. I could rely on my raw strength and the skills I know will come from the future events I remember".
A faint, grim smile touched his lips. "With these, I could skip years of training. I could be ready for anything."
But then, slowly, he shook his head.
"No... forget it," he muttered. "This kind of strength... It comes with a price. I can’t afford to lose myself."
"What if..." he murmured, reaching out to touch the weapon’s hilt. "What if I forge these cores into my sword?"
"If I merge their dark energy with my blade, it won’t just be my body that grows stronger. The weapon itself... it could evolve. A demon-forged sword."
"Yes," he whispered to himself. "Not in me. In the sword. Let the blade bear the curse."
"Because this sword needs bloods but i will feed you with demon’s core", he said.