Chapter 10 – Rings of Power and a Demon Encounter
The air was thick with exhaustion, the kind that pressed down on your chest after hours of constant motion. The forest around them felt suffocating—dense and unyielding. Celia, Lyra, and Blue had cut through it with little rest, battling monsters that didn't seem to stop, didn't seem to care. No time to breathe, no time to rest. Now, in the brief silence of an open clearing, they could finally stop. But even here, under the fading light, there was no peace.
Celia was the first to move. She drew her sword from its sheath, the gleaming steel catching the last slivers of daylight. She swung it in practiced arcs, her movements sharp, precise. Every cut was a statement of years spent honing her craft.
Lyra stood nearby, hands moving in fluid motions as she summoned and controlled the elements, her eyes glowing with a fire that was more than magic—it was conviction.
But Blue, standing apart, did nothing. He didn't need to. His gaze, distant and unreadable, tracked their every movement, the faintest shadow of something darker flickering in his eyes. The others didn't understand. They were warriors. Mages. They fought because it was the only way to survive. But Blue? Blue was something different. A weapon, a force, something outside their comprehension. His power was something they could never hope to match.
His fingers brushed against the rings that adorned his hands, the faint hum of energy pulsing beneath his skin. Each ring was a key to a power far beyond their understanding, far beyond their reach. They still saw him as nothing more than a lowly adventurer—someone they could ignore, someone beneath them. But that was a mistake. A mistake Blue would never correct.
"Long day, huh?" Celia's voice was the first to break the silence. She wiped sweat from her brow, eyeing him. "You've been awfully quiet. What's going on in that head of yours?"
Blue didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the horizon, unfocused. His mind was already elsewhere—already anticipating what might come next. "Just resting," he said, his voice flat, as if it were the only answer that mattered. The kind of answer that ended conversations.
Celia didn't push further, though her eyebrow quirked slightly. "Right," she muttered, sitting against a nearby tree, letting her sword fall into its sheath. "Well, if you're not going to train, you can at least help with dinner."
A slight, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Blue's lips. He didn't move at first, but then, with a subtle shift of his hand, bundles of dried meat and bread appeared in the air before him, neatly wrapped and ready. The rich, savory scent filled the clearing, cutting through the tension and exhaustion that clung to them like a second skin.
Lyra looked up, eyes widening. "Wait… you can store food like that? Is that some kind of spatial magic?"
Blue didn't immediately answer. "Not exactly," he said, his voice distant, focused. "Just space abilities."
Confusion flickered in their eyes, but neither of them questioned further. They were too tired, too hungry to care about the oddity of it. What mattered now was the food—was the quiet, brief moment of respite before the next fight.
"Right…" Celia mumbled between bites, the sound of chewing mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves as they settled into a tense, uneasy silence.
And then, like a thunderclap in the stillness, the growl came.
It was low, guttural—a sound that rumbled through the ground beneath them and sent a cold shiver down their spines. Blue's eyes snapped to the trees, his body already reacting, already moving. His fingers brushed against the rings again, his heartbeat steady, but everything around him felt wrong. Heavy. Like a storm was brewing on the horizon, and they were the ones caught in its path.
Celia's hand instinctively went to her sword. "That wasn't any animal I've heard," she muttered, her voice tight with unease as she scanned the clearing.
Lyra's lips tightened. "I heard it too. Something's coming."
The trees groaned under some unseen pressure. And then, through the darkening woods, it emerged.
A hulking shape—massive, unnatural. A Demon Ape. Its eyes burned with an unrestrained fury as it let out a roar that shook the air itself, sending a jolt of panic through their veins.
Before any of them could react, another figure appeared from the opposite side of the clearing. Tall, clad in gleaming armor. An S-Rank Hunter. His presence alone commanded attention, and behind him, an A-Rank guard stood poised, unwavering.
"Stay back," the S-Rank Hunter's voice cut through the tension, firm, authoritative. He raised his sword, and the magic around it twisted and writhed like a living thing. "I'll handle this."
Celia's mouth went dry, her eyes narrowing as she took in the weight of the Hunter's presence. "An S-Rank… and an A-Rank guard?" Her voice was barely a whisper, awe and fear mixing. "This is bad. Really bad."
Lyra nodded, her expression tightening. "If he's really an S-Rank… We're no match for that. We need to stay out of this."
The fight erupted. The Demon Ape roared, its fists crashing down into the earth with bone-rattling force. The S-Rank Hunter didn't hesitate, dodging the first strike with fluid grace, countering with a vicious slash of his glowing sword. The clash was brutal—raw power against perfect precision. Each strike reverberated through the ground, shaking the very air they stood in.
Celia and Lyra stood frozen, eyes wide, unable to tear themselves away from the spectacle. Lyra whispered, voice barely audible, "His control… It's perfect. His sword—it's like it's part of him."
The battle escalated quickly. The S-Rank Hunter leapt into the air, spinning in a flash of steel. A single strike—a decisive strike—plunged his sword deep into the Demon Ape's chest. The creature howled, thrashing, before crashing to the ground with an earth-shaking thud.
For a moment, the clearing was still. Silent. The only sound was the labored breathing of the victorious S-Rank Hunter, who stood over the fallen beast. His A-Rank guard stepped forward, nodding with quiet respect.
Celia exhaled, unaware of how tightly she had been holding her breath. "I've never seen anything like it."
Lyra nodded, but her gaze wasn't on the fallen ape. Her eyes scanned the woods, the faintest flicker of dread crossing her face. "This isn't over," she murmured.
As if on cue, the ground trembled again. A deep, rumbling growl reverberated through the clearing. A growl that made the air feel thick, suffocating.
From the shadows, something far worse stepped forward.
The Demon General.
Its presence was overwhelming. A towering, infernal monstrosity. Eyes glowing with malice, its form exuding a cold, suffocating darkness. It stood in the clearing like a living shadow, its very existence bending the air around it.
Blue's eyes narrowed, his fingers tightening around the rings on his hands. His thoughts were calm, detached, already calculating the best course of action. There was no panic, no fear—just the cold certainty that this was a fight he would not lose.
"This doesn't look good," Celia whispered, her voice tight with fear as she gripped her sword, prepared but uncertain.
The Demon General's voice was a guttural hiss, low and full of malice. "You've killed my servant… but that won't save you."
The S-Rank Hunter stood firm, but his body was slower now, the fatigue of the earlier battle weighing on him. His A-Rank guard shifted, stepping between the Hunter and the General, eyes scanning the new threat warily.
Blue's hand moved to his dagger, the cold metal a reminder of the power at his fingertips. The rings on his fingers hummed with latent energy, the air around him crackling with anticipation.
The tension was unbearable. Each breath felt like a weight pressing down, thick and suffocating. His mind raced, but there was no panic, no fear. Just clarity. The world seemed to slow as his senses sharpened, every detail of the clearing, every rustle of the trees, every shift in the air, recorded in perfect clarity.
The Demon General stood before him, a monstrous shadow, its presence bending the very fabric of the world around it. The air felt colder, like the warmth of the day had been stolen away. His thoughts, calm and detached, flickered over the possible outcomes, calculating, deciding. There would be no hesitation.
Behind him, Celia and Lyra were silent, their fear palpable, but Blue was beyond that now. The fight would come. There was no question. He was the storm waiting to break.
Celia's hand clenched her sword tighter, but Blue could feel her uncertainty, the way her heart raced beneath her armor. Lyra was the same—her breath shallow, her mind struggling to keep up with the danger that surrounded them.
Blue's fingers tightened on the dagger's hilt, the cool metal now a conduit to the vast power at his disposal. The rings on his hands pulsed, an unspoken hum of energy that filled the space between them. He was ready, but it wasn't just about the fight. It was about survival. His survival. The world didn't care for anything else.
The tension in the clearing was electric, charged with the weight of what was to come. There was no escape. Not for them. Not for him.
The fight would begin. And Blue would make sure nothing—nothing—stood in his way.