When the pain had subsided and peace washed over me, I felt something growing from my hands, causing me to glance down, only to see claws that came straight from a horror movie. It felt like they were always there, like normal limbs. They were midnight black in colour, just like the dark stuff covering my arms, up to my shoulders.
It looked like some sort of living biomass that was connected to me in ways I couldn't fathom. Feels like it's alive, but that doesn't matter right now.
I felt myself changing right down to the soul when a never-ending hunger hit me; my Mana Core evolved into something called the Devourer Core, something that hadn't been seen on Lumira. I felt bones break, only to be repaired the next second. Pain flared in my mouth as my teeth sharpened like some kind of monsters.
Once the transformation was complete, a power surged from deep inside, an old memory resurfaced from my past life, one of my father when I was a child. I was in my old home, back on Earth, when times were better. It was quiet except for the way my own breathing kept catching, ragged.
My dad sat me on the edge of his bed like I was made of glass, he was afraid would shatter if he moved too fast. His hands were on my shoulders, warm, calloused from all the times he'd had to hold everything together when no one else would. I could smell the faint copper of blood on him, see the bruise darkening under his eye, but he wasn't looking at that.
He was looking at me, like I was the only thing left that mattered in his life. ''Arthur, my son,'' he said, voice low, cracked at the edges like old leather. ''Look at me.''
I did. I always did when he asked, thanks to him being a kind father. His eyes were wet, shining in that terrible, determined way I'd only seen a few times before. When Dad put his fist through the wall instead of through one of us. When he came home with split knuckles and told me to stay inside because he had visited the bully's parents.
My Father leaned in until our foreheads nearly touched. I could feel the heat coming off him, the faint tremble in his grip he was trying to hide. ''They think they've finished you,'' my dad whispered. ''They think you're broken. That you'll stay down this time. That's what they're counting on.''
He swallowed hard. I heard it click in his throat. ''But you're not broken. You're not finished. Not even close.''
My chest hurt so bad I thought something inside me had torn open. He gripped me tighter, thumbs pressing into my collarbones like he was trying to anchor me to the earth. ''Destroy them all, Arthur. Every last one of them, never let those idiots win, my boy.''
After the memory faded, I glanced into the green eyes of the bald woman who was rooted to the spot thanks to my sudden transformation, her dagger hovering above my chest, ready to strike, but stopped in the moment. Something told me to eat her heart, and without thinking, I lunged forward, biting into her throat, ripping it clean from the horrified adventurer.
Blood exploded outward in a violent arc, drenching the closest attackers in a glistening red curtain. My claws had punched clean through her sternum; ribs cracked like dry twigs. One savage twist and her heart came free, warm, still faintly beating, in my grip. I forced it between my jaws and swallowed before the revulsion could stop me.
The energy hit my Mana Well like fuel tossed on a furnace. Power roared through every vein: muscles thickening, senses sharpening to painful clarity, new instincts and knowledge flooding my mind in a torrent. How to move faster. How to strike harder. How to kill more efficiently.
Then the truth landed like a hammer. That was a human. A woman. Not some mindless beast. Flesh and blood, just like I used to be. My stomach heaved violently. I doubled over, claws gouging deep furrows in the dirt as bile burned the back of my throat. I gagged once, hard, fighting to keep the heart down.
''I just killed someone,'' I whispered. ''A person, even if I was forced to, I still killed her.''
My whole body felt wrong: cold sweat, trembling limbs, the copper-stink of her blood thick enough to choke on. I killed her. I tore her heart out and ate it like an animal. For one long second, the world tilted. Her wide, dead eyes stared up at nothing. The others were screaming, but the sound felt distant, muffled under the pounding in my skull.
She would have killed me. She tried to kill me. I thought before muttering. ''I had no other choice, it's kill or be killed in this world.''
There was no mercy in her eyes when she came at me. No choice. No other fucking choice. The excuses rang true this time. They had to. Inside, the hunger snarled louder, impatient, already scenting the next pulses of life around me. My new body answered eagerly, muscles coiling, claws flexing, ready.
''I can't back down now,'' I said, determination flowing through me. ''Because it's the strong who survive.''
I straightened slowly. Forced my breathing to be steady. Wiped a smear of her blood from my mouth with the back of one trembling hand. No tears. No begging the gods. No more weakness. I met the horrified stares of the survivors, letting them see the monster I was becoming.
''This world doesn't care who's innocent,'' I commented, voice low and rough, each word carved out deliberately. ''It only cares who's left standing.''
The memories surged again, cold truths: strength is the only currency on Lumira and in Verona. The powerful rule; the weak are consumed. I'd already been burned to ash once. I wouldn't let that happen again. I flexed my claws, feeling the new power thrumming beneath my skin.
''If I have to rip out every heart between me and the top,'' I told the corpse and the living alike. ''Then that's exactly what I'll do.''
As the hunger surged through me like a living thing, a savage drumbeat in my veins. Instinct seized control. I lunged at a swordsman, only to meet the sudden swing of a warhammer. The burly man wielding it grinned as the heavy head rushed toward my skull. I bared my teeth in answer and raised one arm to block it.
The impact rang through bone and black biomass alike. Pain should have followed. It didn't. The dark mass coating my skin flexed, absorbed the shock, and held. Before the man could recover, I struck. My claw on my right hand vanished, turning human again in that split second, drove upward in a clean, vicious uppercut.
The crack of the jawbone shattering was loud enough to cut through the din of battle. His head snapped back at an impossible angle and tore free, spinning away in a wet arc. The body crumpled a heartbeat later. I landed lightly beside the corpse and released a low, guttural growl that wasn't entirely mine anymore.
Whatever this power was, it had rooted itself deep inside me. It was a part of me now. A new shape barreled in, a bandit built like a siege engine, roaring, axe already descending. I moved. One blink, I was standing still; the next, I was inside his guard, close enough to smell the sour sweat and ale on his breath.
My hand reshaped mid-motion, fingers lengthening, biomass hardening into curved talons. I raked them across his midsection in a single sweep. Armour parted like wet cloth, covering me in fresh blood. Intestines slithered out in a steaming coil as the man's eyes widened in disbelief.
He folded, knees first, then face, dead before he hit the dirt. I turned, already hunting for my next target, and fire exploded against my ribs. A blast of raw magic lifted me off my feet, hurling me backwards like a rag doll. The world tilted, spun, then slammed into painful focus as I crashed through underbrush and rolled to a stop in the mud.
When it stopped, I got to my feet and instinctively lunged at the mage who attacked me, landing on her chest, my claws plunging into her. I pulled the spellcaster's heart out; the hunger drove me forward as I devoured it in front of my enemy, but a powerful blow sent me crashing to the ground as the attacker's leader appeared above me.
I couldn't help but sense the man was a Fourth Circle Warrior, broad-shouldered, eyes burning with hatred. His sword rushed toward my face in a clean, killing thrust. No time to parry. No time to breathe. Just then, steel sang against steel in a shower of sparks. The blow never landed, to my surprise.
Huh?
When my vision cleared, Selene Rothvayne stood between me and death, her longsword still ringing. At her feet lay the bodies of the ambushers she had already killed. The older woman spared me the briefest glance, then turned her attention to the leader. With a flick of her wrist, she batted his blade wide, opening his guard.
One heartbeat later, her sword arced in a silver blur. His head left his shoulders before the surprise could even register on his face, tumbling to the dirt with a wet thud. She straightened, blood tracing a thin line down the edge of her blade. The hunger surged again, drowning out everything else.
I turned away from the brunette and charged the nearest cluster of bandits. They froze for a second, then panic set in. One thrust both hands forward. A Fireball roared to life between his palms, the air warping thanks to the heat as the orb hurtled toward me. I leapt, higher than I meant to, muscles coiling with unnatural power.
The spell passed harmlessly beneath me in a rush of scorching wind. I twisted mid-air and came down like a meteor, boots slamming into the Second Circle mage's shoulders. He crumpled, letting out a choked scream. My teeth found his throat before he could recover; hot blood flooded my mouth as I tore in deep.
Behind me, the forest erupted. Garrick, Marcus, and the Legionnaires burst from the treeline in a wave, blades flashing. Steel met flesh in brutal strokes. The remaining ambushers barely had time to turn before they were cut down, bodies dropping in heaps amid shouts and the wet ring of metal.
The hunger still clawed at my insides, unsatisfied. I spun toward the last two bandits. One swing took the first through the chest; the second tried to run. I caught him by the collar, yanked him back, and drove my hand through his ribs. His heart came free in a spray of crimson.
Moments later, I sank my teeth into it, warm, pulsing, rich with mana, and swallowed. The rush hit instantly. Power flooded my core, threads of energy knitting tighter, pushing me over the threshold into Low First Circle. The gnawing eased, just enough. I straightened, blood dripping from my chin, hearts still clutched in my fists.
The battlefield had gone quiet except for the crackle of dying fires. Selene, Garrick, and Marcus were staring at me like I was a monster. The Legionnaires circled me, unsure about what to do. I stared into the older woman's blue eyes as my chest rose up and down before I finally spoke. ''Secure the first floor. Don't allow any more adventurers to enter until I'm finished here.''
Following that, I used my newfound strength to jump toward a group of monsters I could sense not far from us. I landed with a thud before sprinting toward the victims that would help me grow stronger.
***
(Selene's POV)
I watched as the new prince rushed into the underbrush after he landed far from us. The surrounding soldiers remained rooted in place thanks to the shock of the scene they had just witnessed. Moments later, Garrick turned to me, wide-eyed as he finally spoke. ''What happened to him? And why would he eat those people's hearts?''
''I'm not sure, but I can guess this whole thing awakened his powers, and it's something to do with that,'' I replied with my best assumption.
I studied the princes' kills and noted that it looked like some vicious monster attacked them. Still, I couldn't get over the claws that grew on his hands and the black stuff that grew up his arms, giving him some form of natural armour that blocked an attack, which was surprising considering the warrior was strong.
As all of us just stood there, Marcus shouted. ''Follow the prince's orders! Lockdown the first floor and alert the rest of the Century above!''
Without hesitation, I sprinted after the prince, only to stumble into a grotesque trail of slaughter. Mangled monster limbs and steaming corpses littered the forest floor in every direction. Garrick kept pace right behind me, his face hardening as he surveyed the devastation.
''This power is unknown to me,'' he said grimly. ''He's conjured claws and living armour… and right now he's fighting at Second Circle strength. If we don't stop him soon, the backlash will burn him out completely.''