RISE OF THE DEMON KING

Chapter 6: First Blood

Mine.

That word cut through Aeris, harsh and strange, as if it didn’t belong to him at all. It felt wrong, too desperate, too greedy, like hunger clawing under his skin. And for one dizzy, bone-deep second, Aeris knew it, whatever had nested in his chest during the ritual wasn’t just lending him power. It was alive. Awake. It wanted things he didn’t.

But there was no time to really figure that out, or even get scared. The broad-shouldered mage’s eyes went wide and wild. He fumbled with a spell, panic making his hands shake. The woman with that icy, sharp glare started backing up, muttering fast, something about getting to Thorne. Only the cold one stood his ground. Sigils blinked to life along his sleeve, burning bright enough to hurt.

“Vane,” the big mage croaked, voice flickering between warning and begging. “Vane, the reports never said anything about a Demon Core living in a human host. We have to back off. Regroup. Get help,”

“I don’t run from shadows,” Vane snapped, not even glancing his way. His stare bored into Aeris, sharp, furious, maybe a little scared. “I won’t be shown up by some no-name with a parasite. Third Circle means something here. We see what you’ve got now.”

Vane’s words wanted to sound confident, but Aeris tasted the fear behind them, cold and too strong to hide. “You’re still just a mud-foot playing with forces you can’t control,” Vane spat. “Let’s see if you survive.”

He didn’t give Aeris a chance to answer. White fire exploded from his palm, so blinding it washed the color clean out of the world. Aeris didn’t move. He didn’t even think about bracing, because something inside him just moved, quick as thought, not planned, not his. His hand came up, and the fire didn’t hit him at all. It twisted mid-air, drawn to his open palm, curling into a coil of black smoke that slid into Aeris’s skin and vanished. He felt no heat, not even a twinge.

Then a voice echoed, not from the room, but somewhere deep inside him, cold and clipped:

[Skill unlocked: Devour.]

[Host may consume hostile mana to fuel regeneration and ability growth.]

Out of the corner of his eye, Aeris saw the woman’s face twist with terror. “You can’t, nothing survives a First Circle blast, nothing absorbs it!” Her voice broke and she ran, already panicking.

But Aeris moved before she got far. Or really, the thing in his chest did. The hunger was done waiting. It wanted motion, contact, and something darker, payment. Aeris barely noticed choosing. He just moved, strength punched through his limbs, new and easy, three strides bringing him to Vane before he could blink.

Vane got a shield up, but Aeris shattered it with a single blow, the sound sharp and brittle as breaking ice.

“You held her down,” Aeris said, but his voice sounded doubled, warped by something else inside him. “You were going to kill a twelve-year-old girl and call it honor.”

“Wait!” Vane raised a hand, fear breaking through, but Aeris gripped his throat.

The hunger surged, fierce, ancient, pouring through Aeris’s fingers before he could stop it. Vane barely managed a rasp before black light ripped out of him, flooding the mark in Aeris’s chest. It was over almost instantly. Vane collapsed in a heap, just an empty shell, colorless and silent.

[Enemy defeated: Mage, Cedric Vane, Third Circle.]

[LEVEL UP.]

[Aeris Ashworth is now Level 2.]

[WARNING: Demonic corruption increased. Current corruption: 9%.]

Aeris watched, dazed, as oily black veins crept higher across his skin, snaking toward his collarbone. He barely noticed the gasp behind him, a sharp, small cry. Alba. Not because of the ruined mage at his feet, but because of him. She stared at Aeris, horrified, at the dark spreading under his skin, at the thing pulsing on his chest. She was scared of him, and that landed like a knife.

He turned, desperate to say something. He wanted to explain, to comfort, to promise her that he was still her brother. He wanted her to remember the soft parts of him, the nights he’d carried her to bed when she was sick, whispering her nightmares away. He wanted to believe he could still chase off monsters, not become one.

“Aeris.” Her voice cracked, paper thin and shaking, but it hit him harder than any magic. She didn’t look at Vane’s corpse, she looked right at Aeris, searching for the brother she trusted. He saw it in her eyes: for the first time, there was doubt.

She tried to smother it, tried to hold onto faith in him, but Aeris saw how fragile that faith had become. Just a flicker. It made every bruise and scar from their old life feel soft by comparison.

Behind them, the broad-shouldered mage made his move. He grabbed the woman’s wrist and dragged her toward the broken door, both of them vanishing into the ruins, not once looking back.

Aeris should’ve stopped them. He should’ve run them down or said something or, just not let them escape to warn the others. He knew that. But he felt drained, emptier than before, as if that burst of power had cost more than he understood. It left him ragged, bones trembling, like he’d borrowed too much and now the debt collectors were coming.

He dropped, knees hitting the floor hard. His breath came out rough and burnt, tasting like smoke and ash, his mouth curling with darkness. The last scorch of demonic power tore through him, fast and mean, and then it was gone.

He knelt, empty and hollow, with no idea how much of himself was left. And for the first time since everything changed, Aeris wondered if he could ever go back.

Everything closed in around Aeris, the world collapsing into smoke, pain, and a scattered sense of self. It was like his whole life shrunk into that narrow, choking tunnel, and somewhere at the edge of it all, he heard Alba scream his name. He tried to answer. Really tried. All he managed was another gasp, more choking smoke billowing out of him, tainting the air and burning in his throat.