The sky of Jottunheim was never truly still.
It pulsed.
Red. Thick. Like the beating heart of the world, hidden behind a veil of blood.
And upon the cracked earth, littered with towering bones that rose like monuments of death. Kafka stood, his breath ragged, his body torn apart by wounds that had yet to fully heal.
His blood dripped.
But it did not fall.
It floated.
Trembling around him like living creatures… waiting for a command.
In front of him, Eldric Vaelorian stood casually.
Hands in his pockets.
A faint smile curled on his lips, more mockery than encouragement.
"Again."
One word.
No emotion.
No mercy.
Kafka swallowed, then closed his eyes.
Eldric yawned.
Completely… relaxed.
As if the brutal training that had killed Kafka dozens of times was nothing more than a warm-up.
"Alright," Eldric muttered, stretching his neck. "Let's move on to the fun part."
Kafka stared at him, half-dead.
"…Fun?"
Eldric nodded.
"Instant regeneration."
He grinned.
"If you can't die with style, at least die with elegance."
Kafka didn't get the chance to respond.
Because in the next instant—
CRACK.
Eldric was already in front of him.
Kafka's reflexes kicked in. His stance shifted tight, defensive, boxing form.
Eldric tilted his head.
"What kind of weird stance is that?"
Then,
His hand pierced straight through Kafka's guard.
Through both arms.
Into his chest.
No warning.
No hesitation.
Blood exploded outward like rain.
Kafka choked.
Blood burst from his throat.
His eyes widened.
Eldric only tilted his head slightly.
"Good reflex. But still too slow."
He pulled his hand out.
Kafka's arms still frozen in a defensive stance,
fell to the ground.
Severed.
Eldric kicked him without mercy.
Kafka's body was sent flying, crashing and rolling across the ground before coming to a stop in a pitiful heap, his chest torn open.
And yet,
The wound began to close.
His arms… regrew.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Eldric sighed.
"That's not regeneration. That's forced healing. You're a Vaelorian. This is embarrassing."
Kafka tried to stand.
Failed.
"Focus on your internal core!" Eldric snapped suddenly. "Wrap your inner energy with mana! Then pulse it backwards"
His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Regeneration isn't about healing wounds, it's about commanding your body to reject the concept of 'damage' itself!"
Kafka clenched his teeth.
He closed his eyes.
Searching.
That point.
The core.
His inner core.
He found it.
Small.
Dense.
Dark.
"I've found it!"
Eldric smiled.
"Good. Now—"
He pointed at Kafka's chest.
"Destroy it."
Kafka opened his eyes.
"…Wait what?"
Eldric rolled his eyes.
"I'm not repeating myself. Do you want to get stronger, or become dungeon decoration?"
Kafka inhaled deeply.
The blood around him began to move.
Flowing inward.
Into his body.
Toward that core.
The pressure spiked instantly.
Pain.
Not like injury.
Like his entire existence was being twisted from within.
"Deeper," Eldric said calmly.
Cracks spread across Kafka's skin.
Blood burst out,
then was pulled back in.
Again.
Again.
And again.
The pressure climbed.
His body trembled violently.
Blood burst out,
from his nose.
From his mouth.
From his ears.
Eldric crossed his arms, nodding in satisfaction.
"Yes… now that's the Vaelorian style. Disgusting, but… elegantly effective."
Kafka said nothing.
The pressure peaked.
His vision blurred.
The world spun.
Then,
THUD.
Kafka collapsed.
His body slammed into the ground.
Motionless.
Completely.
Silence.
Even the blood demons watching from afar fell quiet.
Eldric stared at him.
Seconds passed.
Then he sighed.
"Enough."
He walked closer, casually.
"I've done that prank before. Did the same thing to your mother once when she was training me. She ran off crying and hug me."
He lit a cigarette.
"But she was a bit insane. You know what she did when I woke up and said it was just a joke?"
He exhaled smoke.
"She blew my head off. Hahaha…"
He stopped beside Kafka's body.
Gently kicked his leg.
"Get up, little prince. This trick is outdated."
A faint smile in his face.
"You can't fool me."
Silence.
No response.
Eldric raised an eyebrow.
"Oi."
Another kick.
Harder.
"Enough. This isn't funny anymore."
Still nothing.
The blood demons began to stir.
Uneasy.
Restless.
Eldric frowned.
"Kafka."
No answer.
He crouched down.
Placed two fingers on Kafka's neck.
No pulse.
He pushed a trace of energy into his body.
Nothing.
No mana.
No inner energy.
Nothing.
Empty.
Eldric's eyes slowly widened.
"…Hey."
His voice changed.
Softer.
Human.
He shook Kafka.
"Don't—"
No response.
The blood demons grew frantic.
Their sounds turned chaotic.
Eldric stared at Kafka's face.
Silent.
"…No."
He inhaled sharply.
His hands trembled.
"No… that's impossible…"
He shook him harder.
"Wake up."
His voice cracked.
"Kafka, wake up!"
Nothing.
And for the first time,
Eldric Vaelorian looked… broken.
He pulled Kafka into his arms.
His blood surged wildly.
Uncontrolled.
"I… I just…"
His voice turned hoarse.
"…I just wanted to make you stronger…"
His head lowered.
His shoulders trembled.
"I—"
His voice shattered.
"…Did I kill you…?"
Tears fell.
One.
Then more.
The blood demons fell silent.
As if the world itself mourned.
"I'm sorry…"
he whispered.
"…I haven't even taught you everything…"
Silence.
Only the wind.
And a breath that refused to return.
Then—
"…Peekaboo."
Eldric froze.
Slowly,
he turned.
Kafka.
Smiling.
Eyes open.
Alive.
"Got you. Wait, dude you actually cried?"
Silence.
Two seconds.
Three.
Four—
CRACK.
Kafka's head exploded.
No warning.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
His body collapsed again.
Blood scattered.
The blood demons froze.
Confused.
Traumatized.
Eldric stood there.
Expressionless.
But the aura around him… screamed death.
"Well that's hilarious. My eyes were just sweating," he said flatly.
Seconds passed.
Then,
Blood moved.
Flowed.
Reformed.
Kafka's head reconstructed itself.
Faster than before.
Much faster.
Kafka blinked.
Touched his own head.
"…Okay."
He exhaled slowly.
"Noted."
He looked at Eldric.
Still standing.
Still radiating killing intent.
"Never prank a crazy-old guy."
He paused.
"Especially one who can blow your head off in a second."
Eldric smiled.
Thin.
Dangerous.
"Good."
He turned away. Swept his tears.
"At least you learned something useful."
The days that followed lost all meaning.
No time.
No rest.
Only pain… and progress.
Kafka learned:
• To boost regeneration
• To accelerate blood flow
• To compress inner energy
Every success.
Every failure.
Paid in agony. Pain no one can ever imagine.
Until one day,
For the first time—
Eldric looked toward the horizon of Jottunheim.
"It's time."
Kafka raised his head.
"For what?"
Eldric smiled.
"You've been training in a cage for too long."
He turned.
"Let's hunt."
They stopped before something… wrong.
A crack in space.
Pulsing.
Like an open wound.
Inside,
Darkness.
Not ordinary darkness.
But something that devoured light.
"Premature dungeon," Eldric said casually.
Kafka frowned.
"Premature?"
"A newborn dungeon. Unstable."
Eldric stepped closer.
"These things… attract certain creatures. Based on classification. Bloodline. Compatibility."
He glanced at Kafka.
"This one… dragons."
A grin.
"Looks like we're eating well today."
The world shifted.
Black sky.
Burning earth.
Ash-filled air.
And in the distance,
A massive silhouette.
Wings spread wide.
A roar that shook the ground.
"Dragoman," Eldric muttered.
Around them, half-human, half-dragon creatures emerged.
Dozens.
"Perfect."
Eldric stepped forward.
Calm.
Eldric exhaled slowly.
"…Good."
Blood began to rise from his body.
Not wildly,
but with terrifying precision.
"Watch carefully, Kafka."
The blood gathered in front of him.
Shaping.
Condensing.
Then,
it formed.
A weapon.
A spear.
"This is the Heavenly Demonic Blood Sword Art," Eldric said. "Twelve forms."
Kafka's eyes sharpened.
"Twelve…?"
Eldric didn't look at him.
Instead, he raised his hand slightly.
"One."
The spear trembled.
"Lavaratis Sanguis Spear."
It shot forward.
BOOM.
A Dragoman exploded instantly.
Kafka's pupils shrank.
Eldric stepped forward.
"Two."
The air above distorted.
"Cruxavari Meteor Rain."
Multiple blood constructs formed in the sky,
then fell.
Several Dragoman were crushed in an instant.
Eldric didn't stop.
"Three."
The blood shifted again.
"Vermilion Twin Lotus."
Twin blades bloomed briefly in his hands,
then disappeared after a single clean strike.
"Four."
"Sanguis Serpentis Dominion."
The blood stretched,
like a living whip,
before tearing through another enemy.
Kafka clenched his fists.
Trying to follow.
Trying to understand.
But the transitions of Eldric speed,
were too fast.
Too smooth.
Eldric continued walking forward.
"Five. Varkros Oblivion Halberd."
A heavier form of blood weapons appeared for a split second,
then smashed a Dragoman into the ground.
"Six. Baraxavi Chain Requiem."
Chains flickered into existence,
binding—
then tearing.
"Seven. Seraphion Eclipse Blade."
A thin crimson blade flashed
and vanished.
"Eight. Gravemarch Execution Cleaver."
A massive edge appeared,
then fell.
Clean. But the impact destroying everything in his path.
"Nine. Ruinfang Silent Daggers."
Nothing appeared,
yet something died. A spinning blood dagger then spawn out of nowhere after each hits onto the dragons.
Kafka's breath hitched.
"…I didn't even see that…"
"Exactly."
Eldric's voice remained calm.
"Ten. Abyssal Needle Cataclysm."
The air itself seemed to distort,
something invisible pierced through multiple bodies at once.
"Eleven."
He paused.
For the first time,
the pressure changed.
"Malphas Dominion Scythe."
A curved silhouette flickered, the scythe swept all the attack and then erased another Dragoman. A sword and a shield at the same time.
Silence fell.
Only one presence remained.
The dragon Leader.
The alpha.
The big ugliest one.
Its wings spread wide.
Its roar shook the dungeon.
"Then the last one, the twelfth.."
Eldric glanced at it,
"Eww..."
then back at Kafka.
"The twelfth, what?"
He lowered his hand.
"…is not for you to see yet."
Wait is this guy just holding his attack because the ugly faces of the dragon?
Kafka's heart pounded. His instinct sense something wrong.
Eldric stepped aside.
"For now,"
his voice turned colder,
"survive."
Kafka turned to him.
"What the?"
THUD.
Eldric kicked Kafka towards the dragon.
The dragon roared.
"Shit!"
And in the next second,
it charged.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you... That is saldamor dragon, anyone that got fire by his breath will becomes ugly, Forever." Eldric then casually sit and lit his cigarette.
Kafka's body moved on instinct.
"What the hell did you just say?"
And the battle,
began.
Eldric glanced back.
"Well I'm run out of stamina, it's your turn. Spare this old man."
Kafka swallowed.
"…Seriously?"
You just doesn't want to ugly-fication fire don't you?
He stepped forward.
Blood rising.
Shaping.
A spear.
Imperfect.
But enough.
He moved.
BOOM.
His body shattered.
Then regenerated.
Again.
And again.
Until finally,
He stood.
Breathing steady.
Eyes different.
"How many times?" Eldric asked.
Kafka dropped beside the severed dragon head.
"…More than forty."
His blood moved.
Four weapons formed.
"But I learned four forms… at least."
Eldric chuckled.
"Good. But still not enough,"
Eldric hold his laugh.
"Little prince... i think your face really need so reconstructive help."
Without warning,
BOOM!
Kafka's head exploded again.
***
They left the dungeon carrying massive dragon meat.
Eldric looked up.
The sky trembled.
The air grew heavy.
Cold.
Reality itself seemed to resist something.
"Ah…"
He smiled.
Sharper.
"Right on time."
Two presences emerged.
One,
slow.
Oppressive.
Like emptiness swallowing everything.
The other,
hungry.
Wild.
Endless.
Two figures stepped out of the mist.
Twisted.
Broken.
Monstrous.
Then,
they transformed.
Beautiful.
Angelic.
Vorzeth.
Belphegorion.
They had returned.
After thirty days.
Their eyes locked onto Kafka.
Hungry.
Eldric stepped back.
"Show me."
Kafka said nothing.
His blood rose.
Spinning.
His eyes glowed red.
For the first time,
he did not hesitate.
"I'll kill them."
Eldric smiled faintly.
"Good."
The sky of Jottunheim trembled.
And the next battle,
would mark the beginning of something far greater.
~To Be Continued~