Adam studied the group before him, his gaze settling on the bald twins at their head. Without a word, they gestured to the Awakened wrapped in an invisibility cloak. The figure vanished instantly.

  “I appreciate you for saving us the trouble of looking for you,” Cale snickered. “Varidan students really are as bright as the rumors say.”

  His men chuckled and fanned out in smooth, practiced motions, weapons glinting under the moonlight.

  “Sadly, I can’t say the same for you guys,” Adam replied, tracking their movements. “I get robbing people for their treasures, but stealing Varidan property?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s not brave, that’s stupid.”

  “Fortune favors the brave,” Curtis said without rising to the provocation.

  “Sure. But she has a restraining order against idiots.” Adam smiled back at him.

  A few Awakened stayed back to keep Chadwick from escaping, while the rest tightened their formation around Adam.

  “Are you ready for what’s coming, or do you have more insults to get out?” Cale smirked.

  Adam didn’t answer. He only grinned behind his mask.

  “It seems you’re done,” Curtis said. “Very well. Finish him off, Eli.”

  The command wasn’t even fully out of his mouth before a dagger plunged into Adam’s neck—followed by another, and another. The invisible Awakened uncloaked mid-stab, laughing as he drove the blade home again and again.

  “Varidan students are all talk,” he scoffed, letting the limp body fall. “If I knew it was this easy, I’d have done it ages ago.”

  “Get his amulet,” Cale ordered. “And get rid of the corpse.”

  “Roger,” Eli said with a chuckle, crouching beside the body.

  He rifled through the first pocket—only coins. The second—empty. He glanced at the twins, frowning. “It’s not here.”

  “That’s because I’m not an idiot.”

  Adam’s voice came from behind him.

  Eli barely had time to widen his eyes before a sharp crack split the air. His vision twisted, flipped—then the world turned sideways. His head hit the ground a moment before his kneeling corpse collapsed beside it.

  Adam lowered his hand and looked at the twins. Their smirks were gone.

  “What? Why’s everyone suddenly so serious?” he asked, stepping forward lightly. “The fun’s only just starting.”

  Cataclysm surged into existence along his arms, the paired axes humming with restrained hunger.

  “Positions!” Curtis barked.

  The Awakened instantly shifted, archers drawing back their strings, swordsmen raising gleaming blades, the formation tightening around their target.

  “Kill that fucking bastard!” Cale roared.

  A volley of arrows snapped through the air, shrieking toward Adam.

  He smiled behind his mask.

  System, activate Battle Mode. Let’s give Devour another test run.

  “Yes, Adam,” the demonic voice purred. “Slaughter them all.”

  The arrows arrived first, hissing streaks that tore the air into ragged strips.

  Adam didn’t move. Cataclysm hummed in his hands, the twin axes vibrating like starving predators. Blackened tendrils uncoiled from his arms, slithering across the metal like ink coming alive. The moment the tendrils touched steel, the axes pulsed hungry.

  The first volley hit.

  Arrows splintered before reaching him, shredded by a sudden whirl of motion. Adam had spun once, just once, and in that breathless instant, Cataclysm carved a windstorm around him. Shafts snapped, iron heads clattered, and a faint mist of ash drifted across the chamber.

  “What the—?!” an archer shouted.

  Adam stepped forward.

  The room screamed.

  One swordsman lunged. The tendrils wound around Cataclysm’s blade blackened further, drinking the kill to come. Adam met the man’s downward strike with a single upward chop.

  The swordsman didn’t fall in two pieces. He collapsed as if every muscle, bone, and drop of blood had evacuated him at once. His body shriveled mid-air, skin clinging to skeletal frame. In the span of a heartbeat, he was a husk.

  A dry heap of bones clattered to the floor.

  “What the hell is that?!” another man roared.

  Adam didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

  Devour’s tendrils tightened around his forearms, pumping raw essence into him. His heartbeat thundered. His muscles expanded with a violent buzz. The world slowed, its colors sharpening into colder tones.

  Three men rushed him at once.

  One swung a mace toward his ribs; Adam flowed past it, grabbed the man’s jaw, and squeezed. Essence burst out in a black-red vapor, sucked instantly into his arm. The man collapsed into rattling bones.

  The second stabbed at his spine, Adam twisted backward, flipping the axe in his grasp, and opened the man’s throat with a single, clean sweep. The blood didn’t even hit the ground. A tendril lashed outward, drank it mid-air, and dropped another skeleton to its knees.

  The third froze mid-charge, eyes wide, unsure whether to attack or flee.

  Adam spared him a glance.

  It was all the opening the man needed to die.

  A tendril shot from Adam’s right forearm, spearing the man’s chest. His scream cut short as his entire body deflated and collapsed into bone fragments.

  Three more.

  Arrows flew again, frantic this time.

  Adam walked through the volley. Feathers brushed his shoulders, thrown off by Manipulator. Cataclysm lashed upward, the blades whistling so sharply they split the air into serrated edges.

  One archer tried to retreat. Adam blurred, appearing in front of him. He brought his axe down.

  The archer’s essence tore free like smoke sucked through a vacuum. His skeleton dropped, clattering in pieces across the ash-covered floor.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Only the twins hadn’t moved.

  Cale and Curtis stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching calmly. Their men lay in various states of collapse, all reduced to sacks of bones. And still, the twins didn’t flinch.

  Finally, Curtis rolled his neck. “Well,” he muttered. “That was… unexpected.”

  Cale cracked his knuckles, identical grin spreading across his face. “Guess we’ll have to handle this ourselves.”

  Adam planted Cataclysm across his shoulders. “About damn time.”

  The twins moved. Not like humans. Not like the typical Awakened.

  They moved like two halves of the same body, two limbs of one monster. Curtis sprinted left, Cale right, yet their feet struck the ground in perfect unison. Their rotations mirrored each other. Their blades gleamed with synchronized arcs.

  Adam grinned beneath his mask. They reached him simultaneously.

  Curtis attacked high; Cale low. Adam ducked under Curtis’s slash as Cataclysm intercepted Cale’s blade with a ringing crash. The impact sparked across the cavern, the force equal on both sides.

  The twins swapped positions in a blink—Cale high, Curtis low. Adam sidestepped and swung, but they weaved together, each motion fluid, each strike filling the gap left by the other.

  Their teamwork was seamless.

  Their speed? Impressive.

  Their strength? Not even close.

  They pressed him hard, driving him back step by step. Sparks flew as blades collided in frenetic patterns—left, right, up, down, shift, strike, spin. Their rhythm built like a drumbeat. Their momentum rose like a crashing wave.

  Adam couldn’t help but respect it. But respect wasn’t mercy. He blocked Curtis’s twin slash and kicked him backward. Cale tried to exploit the opening, rushing in with a thrust aimed at Adam’s heart.

  Adam allowed it. Just enough.

  He let the blade slide past his ribs by a whisper, leaned in close, and whispered: “Got you.”

  The tendrils on Cataclysm whipped outward like snakes. They latched onto Cale’s arm. His eyes widened, but he didn’t scream. Not yet.

  Curtis roared and charged to break the grip.

  Too slow.

  Adam twisted Cale’s arm with a single violent wrench. Essence exploded from the man in a burst of vapor, a pillar of blood-mist ripping into Adam’s tendrils. Cale’s body shriveled instantly. He fell into a pile of bones before his scream ever reached his throat.

  Curtis froze mid-charge.

  A horrible silence swallowed the cavern.

  Then Curtis lunged, screaming, face twisted with grief and rage.

  Adam respected that. Truly.

  But the fight was already over.

  Curtis swung wildly, all sense of rhythm gone. Adam stepped into the blow, caught his wrist, and hammered a knee into his gut. The man doubled over, coughing blood.

  Adam placed Cataclysm beneath his chin and lifted his head.

  “No one should have to watch their brother die,” Adam said quietly.

  Then he pushed the axe through Curtis’s throat.

  Curtis’s body dissolved, collapsing into pale bone fragments that rolled across the floor.

  When it was done, the cavern fell dead silent.

  Nine enemies. Nine kills. Nine piles of bones littered the ground.

  Adam exhaled once, the tendrils retreating slowly, reluctantly, like beasts returning to slumber.

  Cataclysm stopped trembling.

  Adam rolled his shoulders, glanced toward the exit, and muttered, “now there’s only you and me,” he said, turning toward Chadwick.

  The young man had collapsed onto his rear, trembling as he clawed uselessly at the ground, trying to retreat.

  “P-please don’t kill me,” he stammered. “I’m sorry—”

  “Relax,” Adam cut in with a light chuckle. “I have absolutely no intention of killing you. We’re from the same academy, after all.”

  Chadwick instantly scrambled into a kneel. “Thank you,” he said, bowing over and over. “Thank you—I’ll never forget your mercy—”

  “However,” Adam’s voice snapped through the air, silencing him.

  He pointed past Chadwick.

  “I can’t say the same for him.”

  Chadwick instinctively turned—right as his own head slid cleanly from his neck. Adam’s Familiar loomed behind him, roaring as it punted the severed head with feral fury.

  The skull struck the carved dungeon wall with a wet pop. The body slumped a second later, collapsing like an empty sack.

  Adam approached, footfalls light and unhurried. Varidan forbids students from killing each other. They can’t link this to me, not if the Familiar does it.

  As he reached the corpse, a flood of system messages flickered into his vision.

  [You have devoured 10 Blessed beings.]

  [The dungeon has recognized you as a Demonkin!]

  Adam halted mid-step.

  “…A Demonkin?” he muttered.

  More notifications cascaded downward:

  [Skill: Devourer has accelerated the dungeon’s growth.]

  [The creatures in the dungeon have detected your presence!]

  [The creatures in the dungeon feel profound hatred toward you!]

  [You have gained a new passive Title:]

  [The Hated One (Passive)]

  [You have gained extra unassigned stat points!]

  [Unassigned Stat Points: 10]

  [You have received Ten Omen Points!]

  [Omen Points: 28 – Insufficient for rank upgrade.]

  [Maximum Omen Points for current rank: 36]

  Adam stared blankly at the notifications glowing in the air. He blinked. Then again. They remained.

  “What a shame,” the demonic voice purred in the back of his mind. “If only there were more idiots left for us to devour. We’d have enough Omen Points to rank up…”

  Adam ignored it.

  Devourer allowed him to absorb the essence of others, Awakened or not, but he had always avoided using it too freely. The skill felt… sinister. Corruptive. But accelerating dungeon growth? That was something else entirely.

  System, assign all ten points to Agility.

  [Agility: 28 (+10)]

  Adam flexed his arms. Nothing visibly changed, but his muscles loosened, and his entire body felt lighter, faster, even without Battle Mode activated.

  “This is nice,” he murmured.

  He scrolled to the new passive title.

  The Hated One.

  Great. Dungeon raiding is going to become several times harder now.

  Higher-ranked dungeons would swarm him the moment he entered, every creature drawn to him like a beacon.

  Did the dungeon classify me as a Demonkin because of Devourer?

  The suspicion gnawed at him, but he had no proof.

  His gaze shifted to Hendrix’s unconscious group scattered across the cavern floor.

  I can’t leave them here… but I can’t babysit them either. Not with this new title.

  His eyes flicked once more to the lingering notifications.

  The Valar Pits was a D-rank dungeon. If Devourer really accelerated its growth, then the dungeon might evolve soon, inviting stronger Awakened into Targarth and spawning more vicious monsters to replace the weaker ones.

  No wonder they hate me, Adam thought, resisting a laugh.

  He noticed a narrow path framed between two thick gemstones in the distance.

  The Baccarras’ den is just ahead.

  He looked again at the unconscious students.

  I can’t drag them with me, and staying here is out of the question… especially now. So what the hell do I do?

  “F… Fien. Chadwick, please don’t let them hurt Fein, Amara, and Mavis… please,” Hendrix whispered as consciousness clawed its way back.

  Huh? I’m alive?

  He groaned, forcing himself upright.

  This wasn’t the Ashworm lair. The towering crystal pillars were gone, replaced by moss-covered walls that pulsed with a faint emerald glow. The acrid stench of ash had vanished, replaced by something murky and damp.

  Where the hell am I?

  His heart quickened. He snapped his gaze left, then right. His companions were nowhere in sight.

  He tried to stand, immediately stumbling; his body still reeling from the side effects of Chadwick’s Blessing.

  I’ll never forgive that bastard.

  Veins bulged at his temples as his hands tightened into fists. He had no idea how he had survived, but rage kept him steady.

  “You’re up? Finally.”

  Hendrix flinched at the familiar voice behind him. Before he could react, a pair of gentle arms wrapped around his shoulders.

  “I thought— I’m so happy…” Fien’s voice cracked as she hugged him from behind.

  Am I dreaming?

  “Fien?” Hendrix rasped. “Is that really you? Where’s Amara? What about Mavis?”

  “We’re all safe,” she said, helping him stabilize. “They woke up a few minutes ago. I went to get water. I didn’t expect you to wake before I returned. I’m… I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  Hendrix exhaled, relief loosening the tightness in his chest.

  “But how did we get here?”

  Fien shook her head. “No idea. Last thing I remember was a whipcrack.”

  Hendrix bit the inside of his cheek. “Did that traitor suddenly grow a heart?”

  Fien’s expression hardened for half a second, sharp but fleeting, before she nodded toward a narrow passage. “Come with me. You need to see this.”

  She guided him through a short tunnel, where Amara and Mavis stood frozen, staring at something on the ground.

  What has them so rattled?

  Both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Hendrix. Good to see you awake,” Mavis said with a relieved smile.

  “How are you feeling? Do you need to rest a bit longer?” Amara asked, tears glimmering at the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m okay. Sore, but I’ll survive.” Hendrix forced a grin, warmed by their concern. “What are you all—”

  The rest of his sentence died in his throat.

  A headless corpse lay sprawled on the cave floor.

  Chadwick.

  He recognized the uniform, the build, everything.

  But the neck—jagged and brutalized—was nothing like a clean execution. Whatever had done this was more beast than man.

  “We found him like that,” Fien murmured. “We’ve been trying to figure out who… or what did it.”

  Hendrix stared at the mangled stump, mind racing. Did his accomplices turn on him? Were they afraid Varidan would trace everything back to them?

  “Funny thing,” Mavis added, pointing to a stone pedestal. “All of our amulets were returned. And even this.”

  Hendrix’s head snapped up.

  The orb.

  His anger dissolved into a knot of confusion and unease.

  “What do we do now?” Fien asked quietly.

  Hendrix felt three pairs of eyes settle on him.

  He swallowed, steadying himself. “I don’t know how we survived,” he said at last. “But right now, that doesn’t matter. We’re alive. That’s what counts.”

  He turned toward the faint passage leading out.

  “Let’s get out of here. I don’t want to spend another second in this place.”