Arrax's presence receded into the back of Leon's mind, leaving him in a silence so heavy it felt physical.
Leon stood alone in the crimson wasteland. Suddenly, a violent jolt of pain lanced through his skull. Ancient knowledge—spells of darkness and shadow—was forcibly etched into his mind. He gritted his teeth, refusing to scream. He was too close to a Blood Orc camp; a single sound would be his death sentence.
Not yet, Leon thought, his skeletal fingers digging into the red sand. I won't die as a pile of nameless bones.
But the Abyss was never merciful. From the nearby thicket, three Blood Orcs emerged. They were hulking, corded with muscle, their skin the color of dried gore. They looked at Leon with mockery—to them, he was just a stray skeleton, a weakling to be crushed for sport.
One orc stepped forward, raising a jagged stone club. With a grunt, he swung it downward.
Leon didn't think. He felt the darkness within him snap like a coiled spring.
[Skill Activated: Dark swordsmanship]
One orc stepped forward, raising a jagged stone club. With a gutteral roar, he swung the massive weapon in a horizontal arc, aiming to shatter Leon's ribs.
Leon didn't flinch. He felt the darkness within him coalesce, flowing down his skeletal arm like liquid ink.
[Skill Activated: Parry]
A blade of solidified gloom manifested in Leon's hand just as the club descended. Rather than blocking head-on, Leon angled his shadow sword, letting the heavy club slide off the edge of his dark mana. The friction created a deafening screech of stone against shadow.
The orc, caught off-balance by his own momentum, stumbled forward.
[Skill Activated: Dark Swordsmanship – Second Form: Chaotic Night]
Leon's movement was a blur of cosmic black. He stepped into the orc's guard, his shadow-blade flickering like a serpent's tongue. With a single, precise thrust, the dark steel bypassed the orc's primitive armor and sank deep into his throat.
"Gurgle..."
The orc's shriek died before it could even begin. Leon twisted the blade and pulled it back in one fluid motion, leaving the hulking creature to collapse into the red sand.
[System: Level Up!]
The other two orcs froze, their mockery replaced by primal fear. One roared and lunged, but Leon was already moving. He was faster now, his skeletal frame light and fluid.
"You know," Leon whispered as he dodged a clumsy blow, "I always preferred the sword."
The spear vanished. In its place, a thick, wicked black blade manifested in Leon's hand. With a single, mocking swipe, he took the orc's head.
The Evolution
Leon stood over the three corpses. His bones were cracked, his frame battered, but he felt an intoxicating power.
[Elemental Authority activated: Skill Devour]
"Devour," Leon commanded.
A dark purple aura swirled over the bodies. Skeletal ghosts rose from the shadows, tearing into the orc remains until nothing but dust was left.
Suddenly, Leon's body began to burn. Flesh knit itself over his darkened bones. His skin turned a pale, marble white, marked by a singular black stripe running down his spine. Two horns emerged, both obsidian —erupted from his forehead. When he opened his eyes, one glowed a demonic purple, the other a blood-red.
He wasn't just a skeleton anymore. He was something... else.
The Orc Civil War
Leon moved through the darkness like a ghost. Using a stolen Shaman's robe to hide his demonic features, he began to observe the camp. He realized there were two clans at each other's throats: the Blood Orcs and the Green-Striped Tiger Orcs.
If I can't kill an army, I'll make them kill each other, Leon smirked.
He planted evidence, sparked a skirmish, and watched as the two tribes descended into a full-scale war. The battlefield became a buffet for his hunger. Every time an orc fell, Leon was there in the shadows, devouring the remains to fuel his growth.
[System Notification]
Level 5 Reached.
Authority Unlocked: [Authority of Darkness].
Mana Core Expansion: 100% Complete.
"Now," Leon said, standing atop a boulder as he watched the two Clan Chiefs face off in the distance. "It's time to show them who their true Master is."
The Duel of Chiefs
The Blood Orc Chief was a monster of a man, wielding a two-sided battle axe that crackled with primitive mana.
"Meaningless war?" Leon laughed, stepping into the center of the battlefield. The orcs of both tribes stopped, staring at the hooded figure. "There is no such thing as a meaningless war—only a war you are too weak to win."
"A demon?!" the Chief roared. "You started this!"
The Chief lunged, his axe creating a vortex of wind. Leon used [Endless Illusion], the battlefield vanishing into a thick, purple fog. Fifty copies of Leon emerged from the mist, each wielding a blade of shadow.
The Chief swung wildly, his suppression aura failing against the sheer weight of the darkness. Leon appeared behind him, his black sword held in a reverse grip.
"Rest now," Leon whispered.
The blade bit deep. The Chief fell.
The silence that followed was absolute. Thousands of orcs—Blood and Green-Striped alike—looked at the young demon standing over their fallen leaders. Then, as if moved by a single soul, they dropped to their knees.
"Long live the King!"
Leon looked at his hands, no longer bone, but powerful and steady. Arrax's voice chuckled in his mind, finally waking from his brief slumber.
"An army of orcs? Not a bad start, kid. But remember... the Abyss is staring back at you. Don't let it blink."