Astral villain system: The saint's demonic ascension

CHAPTER TWO

The moment Theon slipped between the statues of the stone forest, he coughed up blood, quickly wiping it with a black towel. His legs trembled, and he collapsed against a statue.

His eyes burned from the humiliation. But he wouldn't let anyone see him break apart. People might call him trash, but he was someone with lots of pride. He wouldn't disgrace his father any more than he had already done.

He fished out healing herbs from his chest and pushed it into his mouth, chewing it raw. He didn't even have access to elixirs. He had to make do with herbs stolen during herb hunts, eating them raw like a beast.

Hatred filled his heart. His parents died protecting the realm, yet the same people they bled for wouldn't even offer him the most minimal respect and protection. It makes him wonder if they truly saw his father as their savior. Or could his death have had something more sinister connected to it?

At the moment, there wasn't anyone at the ascension pavilion. Today was the monster hunt contest where the school opens the beast maw for students to go hunt and increase experiences…the first stage of the school annual tournament.

The portal automatically sends you to a suitable area based on your level, divided into eighteen rings, with the outermost ring being for the weakest.

However today was the group mission, and the ring chosen was according to the average strength of the group members.

No one wanted to form a group with him. He didn't even feel hurt or sidelined. In the space where his heart should have been, there was only a hollow space. Dull and empty, just thudding rhythmically.

As his strength returned, he rose to leave. A sharp sting pierced the back of his neck…too fast to react. A faint whoosh cut the air, and then everything went black.

“Do you think he will die there?”

“So what if he dies? No one would notice.”

The voices trickled into his foggy mind. He tried to move his fingers, but exhaustion pinned him in place. Whatever had pierced his neck carried a toxin that turned his thoughts to soaked cotton, unable to hold anything.

“But this is the academy’s forbidden grounds, sealed with great effort by the seniors. Will it really be alright? This is the Netherworld Spirit-Devouring Wasteland, after all.”

Netherworld spirit devouring wasteland? The name caused dread to coil around Theon’s guts.

Everyone in the academy knew it. One of the three forbidden grounds of Nyxar.

His late father had sealed the entrance decades ago, shutting in the monstrous beasts, demonkins, and malevolent energy, away from the outside world. The place crawled with dark energy, corrupting all who entered.

The wasteland was more than a desolate expanse. It was a portal that led straight into the Abyssal Passage, a one-way descent into hell. No one who entered had ever returned in one piece…except two.

The first was Solar Ascension Immortal, Wuji. The second, and most recent, was his own father, Ren Dravorn, the Void Severance Immortal.

They were epoch-defining geniuses. Theon was not. He had neither their strength nor their fate. To enter was certain death.

Many had tried before. Fortune, after all, was said to lie within danger. None came back. Since then, no one had dared cross the dark forest, let alone ascend the Netherworld Platform that led to the wasteland. Not even whispers of rare treasures could lure them. One had to live to enjoy such things.

Unlike sacred grounds, the forbidden area had no guards. Its name alone was enough to deter intruders.

Theon fought against the fog clouding his mind. He had to wake up. He had to open his eyes before it was too late.

Beneath him, he felt a shift in air current like something was emerging from the ground. Gasps and sounds of running feet followed.

“Push him in, hurry, let's remove the token before it gets wider.”

“His father is a saint who saved the Celestial realm, beast realm and the entire Kaeros planet. What…”

“Shut your mouth, chicken. We're cleaning the house for Lord Dravorn. He's a shame on the Dravorn stellar legacy. Being childless is better than birthing pathetic scum. Senior will thank us for that.”

“Exactly. That's what he deserves for defying the Celestial Dean.”

A chilling calm settled in Theon’s chest, his mind sharpening to a razor’s edge. At last, his fingers twitched. He barely managed a breath before a hand seized his cloak and hurled him forward.

Heat. Fire.

The words clawed through his mind, the only words that made sense. The inferno swallowed him whole. It crawled over his skin, burrowed into his flesh, devoured him from the inside out. This was no mere flame. It was worse than a volcano, worse than any furnace. It was annihilation.

‘Water. I need water.’

The thought fractured as quickly as it formed.

‘It’s this hot…it really leads to the Abyssal Realm. No… no, I can’t go there. I haven’t retrieved my father’s things. I haven’t upheld his legacy…’

His skin split open. Lacerations carved across his body as if invisible blades tore him apart. Blood scattered into the void. There was no ground, no sky. Only an endless fall.

The pain burned through the fog in his mind. His eyes snapped open.

Warm blood streamed down his face, flooding his vision in red. He forced them to stay open, teeth grinding hard enough to crack. He had to see. He had to understand.

Darkness stretched in every direction, vast and suffocating, pricked with distant, indifferent stars. Shards of metal and jagged ores drifted through the void, slicing into him as they passed. Each movement drew fresh blood.

Before he could make sense of it, a violent force seized him.

Gbim!

His back slammed into something solid. The impact shattered whatever he struck, the sound cracking through the void.

Agony exploded through his body. He choked, coughing violently as something inside him seemed to tear.

He forced himself upright.

Sand. An endless expanse of dry, brown sand stretched to the horizon. No wind. No life. Not even a trace of moisture. The air itself felt dead, scraping his throat with every breath.

His brows knit, eyes narrowing despite the tremor threatening to break through.

“Is this… the wasteland?”

The words had barely left his lips when a shriek split the air.

Something descended from above.

A creature with the body of a lion and the face of an owl, its eyes burning with savage intent. It dove straight at him, claws outstretched, promising nothing but death.

Theon froze. For a heartbeat, terror hollowed him out completely. Then instinct took over.

He ran.

Every muscle screamed in protest, his body already on the verge of collapse, but he moved as if the world itself were closing in behind him. The creature gave chase, relentless, faster than anything he could hope to outrun.

It wasn’t stopping. Wouldn't stop.

His foot struck something.

Theon’s breath hitched, his heart dropping into a chasm of pure dread.

He spun midair, crashing hard into the ground. Pain flared white-hot, stealing the air from his lungs.

Blood burst from his palm as it scraped against the jagged surface. He swallowed the cry clawing up his throat and forced himself upright in a single, frantic motion.

There was no time. No space for fear.

Only the certainty that if he slowed for even a second…he would die.

The moment he looked up, his blood ran cold. Apart from the flying creature, two more were coming straight for him. A gigantic scorpion, its body lined with jagged thorns, each movement heavy and oppressive. And a massive brown worm, moving so fast it made his vision blur just trying to follow it.

Then he noticed something else.

Bones. Dried, scattered across the wasteland. The remains of those who came before him.

A chill coiled in his gut. Perhaps his bones would soon join them, another nameless addition to the endless pile.

Theon was surrounded. There was no escape. The rumors hadn’t been exaggerated. This place was a death sentence.

A sharp beep suddenly rang in his mind, jolting him out of his spiraling thoughts.

“Ren Dravorn’s offspring detected. Initiating Astral Villain System.”

Theon’s teeth sank into his lower lip as he forced himself to stay composed. Who… was that?

Before he could make sense of it, a powerful green glow enveloped him, forming a barrier around his body. The charging beasts were forced to a halt, their attacks crashing uselessly against the invisible wall.

For the first time since he saw the creatures, he exhaled.

Relief came, thin and fragile. Whatever this barrier was, it was keeping them out.

“Host found. Are you willing to accept the system and begin your climb to the peak of power?”

A brief pause followed, then the voice returned, quieter, almost pressing.

“If I were you, I would say yes immediately. Accepting the system is the only way you’re leaving this place alive. You have five seconds before the barrier breaks.”

The words hit him like a blow.

Theon’s heart pounded, unease rising despite the temporary safety. What exactly was this voice? What was this so-called system?

And why did it sound less like help…and more like something that had been waiting for him to have no choice?