All Chapters of Ethan Storm’s Dark Awakening : Chapter 391
- Chapter 400
427 chapters
391
Heavy. Absolute. Ethan stood over the remains, chest rising slowly, divine energy still crackling faintly around him. Then he turned. Rowan lay crumpled on the stone, breathing shallowly. Curse sigils still burned faintly across his chest, flickering like dying embers. Ethan was beside him in an instant. He knelt, one hand hovering over Rowan’s chest, the other gripping his shoulder. “Rowan,” Ethan said sharply. “Stay with me.” Rowan’s eyes fluttered open. Unfocused. Struggling. Then they found Ethan. Recognition hit. “…You,” Rowan whispered hoarsely. “You killed it…” Ethan’s jaw tightened. “I should have done it sooner.” Rowan let out a weak laugh that turned into a cough. Blood stained his lips. “No… no.” He shook his head faintly. “You did it exactly when you needed to.” His gaze drifted past Ethan, to the pile of ash and black blood. Then back to Ethan’s hands. Still glowing. “…So it’s true,” Rowan murmured. “The human who crossed their world…”
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“…Young master,” Rowan said quietly, “you don’t need to lie to me.”Ethan’s smile faded. “I’m not lying.”Rowan shook his head weakly. “I’ve served demons. Cleaned after them. I know what their aura does.”He pressed a trembling hand to his chest. The curse sigils flickered, unstable now. Fraying at the edges.“I’ve been corroded,” Rowan said. “It’s already deep.”Ethan’s breath caught.Rowan looked up at him, eyes calm in a way that scared him. “I don’t think I have much time left.”For a moment, Ethan didn’t speak.Then his expression hardened.“Don’t say that.”Rowan gave a small, sad smile. “It’s just the truth.”“No,” Ethan said sharply. “That’s fear talking.”Rowan chuckled weakly. “Young master—”“I said don’t,” Ethan snapped, louder now.He leaned closer, grip tightening on Rowan’s shoulder. “You’re still breathing. The curse is unstable. That means it’s not finished.”Rowan hesitated. “But the aura—”“I’ve seen worse,” Ethan cut in. “And I’ve fixed worse.”Rowan searched his
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“Stop,” Rowan whispered. “Please.”Ethan shook his head, desperation shaking through him like a fault line. “I can still—”“You can’t,” Rowan said, firmer now, even as his strength slipped away. “And you know it.”Ethan froze.The truth landed like a blow to the chest. He’d known it. He’d just refused to name it.Rowan looked at him, eyes still clear, still there, and that somehow hurt more than if they’d already gone dim. “If you force it, the backlash will tear you apart too.”Ethan’s jaw trembled. His hands were shaking so badly he had to curl them into fists. “I don’t care.”“I do,” Rowan said softly.The words undid him.Rowan lifted a trembling hand and set it over Ethan’s wrist. The touch was barely there—too light, too weak—and Ethan had the sudden, crushing thought that he might never feel it again.“Living like this,” Rowan continued, voice thinning, fading like smoke, “wasn’t living. It was waiting.”Ethan’s vision blurred. He blinked hard, but the tears came anyway, hot an
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Ethan stayed where he was for a few seconds longer.Not moving.Not breathing.The Gate hummed faintly around him, uncaring.Rowan lay still at his feet.“…I’m sorry,” Ethan said quietly.His voice echoed once, then vanished.There was no answer.Ethan swallowed hard. “You always said not to apologize,” he murmured. “Said it was a waste of breath.”Silence.He let out a short, broken laugh. “Guess you’re not here to complain about it anymore.”The Gate pulsed again, low and rhythmic, like a distant heartbeat.Ethan’s gaze lifted toward it. “You hear that?” he asked the chamber. “That’s what winning sounds like to you, isn’t it? You don’t care who’s left on the floor.”The hum did not change.“Yeah,” Ethan muttered. “Didn’t think so.”His jaw clenched hard enough that it hurt.He wanted to scream.Wanted to tear the chamber apart.Wanted to kneel there until the Gate itself collapsed.The Gate’s light flickered, casting long shadows across Rowan’s still face.Ethan shut his eyes.Then
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Not violent.Curious.Testing.Ethan raised the mask slowly, turning it in his hands as if weighing a weapon he wasn’t sure he should draw. The surface was warm now, no longer inert, faintly pulsing against his palms like it could feel his hesitation.“…If this breaks me,” he murmured, “at least it’ll be useful.”The words sounded steadier than he felt.For a moment, he didn’t move.Rowan’s voice echoed faintly in his memory, uninvited but clear.Masks never just cover things. They change what’s underneath.Ethan’s grip tightened. “You always had a talent for understatement.”Silence answered him.“Yeah,” he whispered. “I know.”He exhaled once, slow and deliberate, then lifted the mask higher.He placed it over his face.The world went dark.Then—Pressure.Not crushing.Wrapping.Something slid over his senses, warm and heavy, like sinking into deep water. It pressed against his skin, his thoughts, probing gently at first—curious, measuring, as though deciding whether he was worth
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Long, curved horns rose from his head, dark and sharp, etched with faint red lines that glowed softly. His eyes burned a deep, molten red, pupils narrow and predatory. His skin had taken on a darker tone, veins faintly glowing beneath it like smoldering embers just below the surface. His face— It was his. But wrong. Sharper. Crueler. Inhuman. The same build. The same posture. Identical to the Gate Warden he had killed. Ethan tilted his head slightly. The reflection did the same, perfectly synchronized. He lifted a hand. The demon in the mirror lifted its clawed fingers in response. “…Convincing,” Ethan said quietly. His voice was deeper now. Rougher. It vibrated in his chest instead of his throat, carrying weight instead of warmth. He turned away from the mirror and walked out into the courtyard. The space was wide, open to a blood-red sky beyond the Gate’s veil. Broken stone littered the ground. Demonic banners hung torn but proud, sigils burned into bla
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Not abruptly. Just enough to make them notice.The laughter didn’t stop right away, but it softened, curiosity slipping in.Ethan turned his head slightly, eyes half-lidded beneath the mask, as if bored by the question. As if this was beneath him. The mask helped—smoothed the reaction, flattened the spike of fury into something colder, something sharp-edged and controlled.“Disappointed?” he asked mildly. “I thought you’d be more imaginative.”That earned a few grins.One demon laughed outright. “Still touchy about them, huh? Don’t know why you bother. They’re tools.”“Breakable ones,” another agreed, tail flicking lazily. “You don’t get attached to tools.”“Unless you’re lonely,” the taller demon added, smirking. “Or sentimental.”Ethan’s hands curled slowly at his sides.Inside his chest, something twisted—tight, sharp, almost physical.Rowan’s face flashed through his mind.The way his breath had hitched.The calm in his eyes at the end.The stillness that followed.Human slaves, t
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One clapped him on the shoulder again, harder this time, claws biting just enough to sting.“That’s more like it.”The contact sent a jolt through Ethan’s body—an instinctive flare of violence that had to be crushed immediately. His muscles twitched, barely contained, a reflex honed by too many fights and too much loss.Another demon sneered, eyes narrowing as it studied him.“You should stop wasting time on them. You’re starting to sound… soft.”A third scoffed, curling its lip.“Yeah. Next thing we know, you’ll be keeping one alive.”Soft.The word scraped against Ethan’s mind, sharp and grating, like metal dragged across bone.For a fraction of a second, he imagined breaking that demon’s jaw. Just enough to hear it crack. Just enough to make a point. Just enough to feel something end.The image was vivid—too vivid. The snap. The sudden scream cut short. The shocked silence afterward.He said nothing.Inside, his thoughts were sharp and clear, stripped of emotion the way only fury c
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“Ah,” he said, voice rough but casual, “you’re all too kind. I’m just… looking for something to eat, actually.”For half a heartbeat, there was silence.Not the dangerous kind.The curious kind.Then laughter bubbled up again—some surprised, some mocking, some edged with interest.“Something to eat?” one demon repeated, head tilting sideways as if reassessing him. “That’s new.”Another barked a laugh. “Didn’t take you for the hungry type, Vephar.”A third smirked, barbed tail flicking lazily. “Maybe he finally got bored of screaming.”A few of them chuckled at that, comfortable in the assumption. Comfortable in cruelty.Then the tallest demon stepped forward.He was broader than the rest, horns curving backward like a ram’s, thick and ridged with age. His scales were darker—almost black—etched with faint sigils that pulsed when he moved. Not decorative. Functional. Binding marks of rank and authority.His presence changed the courtyard.The lesser demons shifted unconsciously, giving
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Ethan had only taken a few steps when he felt it. That shift. The laughter behind him didn’t fade the way it should have. Instead, it slowed. Lowered. “…Hey,” one of the demons muttered, claws tapping idly against cracked stone. “Did you notice that?” Ethan’s stride didn’t change. Inside, his stomach dropped. Keep walking, he told himself. Don’t react. “Notice what?” another demon asked, voice tinged with curiosity, laced with suspicion. The tall one—the ram-horned leader—turned slightly, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan’s back. “Vephar’s acting strange.” Ethan felt the weight of that gaze like a blade pressed between his shoulder blades. Strange. “How so?” a third demon said, though his tone already betrayed caution. The leader crossed his arms, claws scraping lightly against his own armor. “He didn’t insult anyone.” A beat of silence followed. “…Huh,” someone said, sounding unsure. “You’re right.” Another demon frowned, shifting uneasily. “He always snaps back. Al