Emerging from the dense thicket of the forest, I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to leave behind my inadvertent stint as a modern-day Tarzan. Scaling the tallest tree in sight had provided a vantage point from which I could survey the surrounding landscape with a keen eye.
Utilizing my skills of observation—both literal and figurative—I scoured the horizon, searching for any signs of civilization. And finally, my perseverance paid off as I discerned a faint pathway winding its way through the wilderness, promising a route to the nearby village or perhaps even beyond.
As I double-checked my belongings, ensuring everything was snugly packed in my bag, a sudden tap on my shoulder jolted me into a flailing whirlwind of motion. I spun around, my eyes wide with surprise, to find the source of the interruption.
Standing before me was a figure that, at first glance, seemed like any ordinary human. But as my gaze lingered, I couldn't help but notice the peculiar hues of his mana—gray and white, swirling in an otherworldly dance.
In that instant, a memory stirred within me, recalling tales of the enigmatic Gray Wolf, one of the most formidable species in the annals of this fantastical realm. Known for their ability to assume human form and often mistaken for demons due to their affinity with the elusive "Ring of People," they were unable to conceal their distinctive mana.
Yet here stood this mysterious stranger, his mana pulsating with not one, but two distinct colors—a mesmerizing blend of gray and ethereal white, hinting at a duality that defied conventional understanding.
As I beheld this enigmatic figure before me, the dichotomy between his human guise and the swirling hues of his mana left me grappling with disbelief. A Gray Wolf adorned with both white and gray mana—an unprecedented anomaly in the realm of mythical creatures.
Summoning forth my inner calm with a practiced exhale, the skill of "The Art of Calmness." activates on its own In the face of such a formidable adversary, maintaining composure was paramount. Though the creature appeared less hostile in demeanor, I remained acutely aware of the cunning intelligence that lurked behind those piercing eyes.
For the Gray Wolf was not merely a mindless beast but a predator of unparalleled cunning, employing strategic precision to outmaneuver its prey and strike with lethal efficiency. With this realization, I braced myself for the impending encounter, knowing that in this wilderness of uncertainty, survival would hinge upon wit and resourcefulness.
"Oh... You got some nerves there, huh?" he remarked, seemingly amused by my reaction like he had anticipated it all along.
"Who might you be?" I asked politely, hoping to avoid turning this into an episode of "Survivor: Monster Edition."
"Haha..." A soft laugh echoed from behind the trees. Out stepped a stunning woman with striking white hair, looking like she just walked off the set of a vampire movie. She bore an uncanny resemblance to the reaper who had once accompanied me before this bizarre transmigration, but her piercing red eyes and blood-red fangs stole the show.
"Great," I thought, "a vampire supermodel. Just what I needed."
The sight of her brought a whole new level of unease like I had just walked into a horror movie where the plot twist is that the protagonist doesn't make it. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was stepping into an even deeper and more dangerous mystery—one that probably involved fewer happy endings and more dramatic screaming.
"Shit..." I thought, keeping a calm exterior while inside I was in a hurricane of panic, utterly terrified of these two beings.
The woman radiated an aura of blood-red mana, a clear sign of a high-ranking vampire. The presence of these two together was as baffling as it was ominous. In my current state, there was no way I could hope to overpower them.
*!!*
Suddenly, the system interface flashed before me in its usual, annoyingly calm hue.
["THE ART OF CALMNESS" is deactivating now. It couldn't keep you calm anymore.]
"Great timing," I thought sarcastically, as the calmness drained away, leaving me feeling like a deer in headlights.
Their eyes locked onto me—one pair as dark as the void, the other a blood-red abyss. The intensity of their gaze sent chills down my spine, making me acutely aware of the peril I faced. "Fantastic," I muttered to myself, "I'm the main course at a supernatural buffet."
*Swishh...*
In a split second, they vanished. Without missing a beat, I turned and bolted, trying to put as much distance between myself and them as possible. The urgency of the situation triggered the system once more.
[The life of the user is in danger. Auto-activating skill.]
[Skill 2: "Sprint Like Your Life Depends On It" - Increases the user's agility by 50% when in a delicate or life-threatening situation. Active]
With the skill activated, my speed surged, propelling me forward so fast that my surroundings became a blur. My eyes struggled to stay open against the rush of wind. "I'm basically a human rocket now," I thought, driven by the primal instinct to survive.
Trees zipped past me like green smudges, and I half-expected to leave a trail of fire behind like some cartoon character. "If only my gym teacher could see me now," I mused, sprinting at a speed that would make Olympic athletes jealous.
*Swishh!!*
In a blink, the two strange individuals appeared right in front of me. I skidded to a halt, my mouth falling open in sheer disbelief. "Oh, come on!" I blurted out, realizing they had caught up to me in no time flat. Before I could even muster a clever escape plan, the two of them clenched up their fist and delivered a punch to my stomach that felt like a freight train.
I was airborne for a moment, limbs flailing wildly. "Well, this is just great!" I thought as I sailed through the air. I crash-landed with a graceless thud, sprawled out like a starfish. Gasping for breath, I couldn't help but think, "Could this day get any worse?"
From my prone position, I glanced up at them, trying to muster a weak smile. "You guys must be the welcoming committee, right?" I wheezed, clutching my aching stomach. "Next time, let's skip the punch and go straight to the tea and cookies."
With my weak attempt at humor hanging in the air, I felt my vision start to blur, the edges darkening as I slowly lost consciousness. "Note to self," I mumbled, my voice barely audible, "never joke with people who can punch you and sending you flying..."
As the world faded away, my last thought was a mix of regret and a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, the next time I woke up, I'd be somewhere a little less... punchy.
***
"This guy would be enough food for our little princess," the guy with black hair and a pair of black eyes remarked.
"Yes, his meat would be tastier if we put some sauce on it before giving it to our baby," she replied to him with a nonchalant tone.
"But it seems we damaged his body..." The woman's expression shifted to one of concern.
"Then let's give him a heal," the guy suggested to the woman.
"Oh...? Right. Yeah." She leaned down and began healing the broken parts of my body as if I were a toy that needed fixing before being put back on the shelf.
....
After a few hours of being unconscious because of being sent into the air and crash-landing, my head felt like a drum in a metal band. As I groaned and lifted my head, I beheld another beauty, but this one was like the deluxe version compared to the one I'd met earlier.
I found myself in a grand hall that looked like it was decorated by an overenthusiastic goth with a penchant for baroque architecture. And there she was, seated like a boss on a throne that seemed to be auditioning for a role in a medieval drama. The throne practically whispered "Your Highness" every time she shifted.
Her long, flowing black hair was more dramatic than a Shakespearean soliloquy, with a subtle red streak that screamed "plot twist." Her eyes, a shade of red that would make stop signs jealous, were like two fiery embers, probably from all the eyerolls she'd endured.
Her outfit was a masterpiece of gothic fashion like she raided Dracula's closet and made it work. A choker adorned her neck, probably to keep her head from floating away with all that majestic hair. Her lace top left little to the imagination, but hey, when you're queen of the gothic realm, who needs subtlety?
As she sat there, all regal and brooding, I couldn't help but think, "Well, this is a step up from being baby food." But seriously, what's next? A coven of vampire cheerleaders? Despite the absurdity of it all, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in way over my head.
As I gazed upon her outfit, with its daringly thin fabric that left little to the imagination, I couldn't help but wonder, "Is she an exhibitionist?" I mean, her attire was so revealing that even a magician would struggle to find something up her sleeve.
But what puzzled me was her... chest. I mean, seriously, how did she manage to defy the laws of physics with those things? They were like two perfectly sculpted monuments to the power of... well, whatever she was into. And to top it all off, her nipples were practically waving hello through the fabric, like they were auditioning for their own reality show.
I shook my head in disbelief. "Well," I thought, "I guess even monsters have their own unique talents." But seriously, how did she manage to keep a straight face with those things staring everyone in the eye? It was like trying to have a serious conversation with a clown at a nudist convention.
I couldn't help but notice those freaking, thick thighs! I mean, seriously, they were like tree trunks, but in a sexy, gothic kind of way. I tried to tear my eyes away, but they had their gravitational pull like they were plotting to trap unsuspecting admirers in their mesmerizing orbit.
Desperate for a distraction, I looked around, only to be met with a sight straight out of a horror movie. The place was crawling with skeletons, some missing limbs, others looking like they were doing the funky chicken with their bones all jumbled up.
I couldn't decide what was more unsettling: the fact that I was surrounded by skeletons or the fact that I couldn't stop thinking about those damn thighs. It was like being stuck in a nightmare where your brain couldn't decide whether to be terrified or turned on. Talk about a boner...
She then looked at me with a cold, icy gaze, and my heart skipped a beat. Before I could even react, she dashed toward me with alarming speed.
But then, out of nowhere, the system suddenly flashed before me with a question:
[Do you want to change your mana color?]
"Yes!" I blurted out, desperate for any kind of distraction from the impending doom racing toward me. If changing my mana color could get me out of this mess, then sign me up!
[Changing Mana Color.]
[From White Mana Color → Shadow Mana Color]
As the system processed my command to change my mana color to the original shadow color, a wave of energy washed over me, enveloping me in darkness. When the darkness dissipated, I felt a subtle shift within me, as if I had tapped into a dormant power.
The woman, who had been dashing towards me with menacing intent, suddenly halted in her tracks. She turned her icy gaze toward me, her face now just inches away from mine. I could feel her breath on my skin, cold and tinged with the scent of danger.
*Sniff.... Sniff
"You... You're the Demon Prince, aren't you?" she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
"What do you think?" I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.
In my novel, "The Arch Demon," those who possessed a Shadow mana color were revered as the superior beings among Archdemons. They were the pinnacle of power and authority, commanding respect and fear in equal measure. Their presence alone struck awe into the hearts of all who encountered them, their shadowy aura casting a foreboding presence over their domain.
On the other hand, those with a Yellow mana color, like fire, were considered lower-ranking Archdemons, beneath the Shadow Archdemons in the hierarchy. Despite their fiery temperament, they paled in comparison to the might and majesty of the Shadow Archdemons, often serving as mere foot soldiers or minions in their dark schemes.
As the Demon Prince, my Shadow mana color marked me as a force to be reckoned with, a symbol of strength and dominance in the world of demons. But in this unexpected encounter with the High-ranking vampire, I couldn't help but wonder how my status would influence the delicate balance of power in this supernatural realm.
*Bam!!
The sudden slam of the door jolted me back to reality, reminding me of the strict rules that governed the Underworld and its denizens.
In this realm of demons, vampires, and monsters, there existed an unspoken law: they were not allowed to consume beings superior to them in power. Instead, they were compelled to focus on strengthening themselves through other means, such as training or acquiring powerful artifacts.
But there was another rule, one that pertained specifically to mana. Demons, vampires, and other supernatural creatures dared not consume each other's mana. Why? Because while a vampire could safely feed on the mana of a lesser demon without consequence, attempting to consume the mana of an Archdemon, with its superior power, would result in dire consequences. Ingesting the blood or flesh of an Archdemon would spell certain doom for the vampire, causing them to cease to exist. And those Rules, was also applied to other beings that are originally came from the underworld.
As the two beings stared at me with icy gazes, I realized the gravity of the situation. They could kill me if they wished, but they dared not consume me, for fear of facing the ultimate consequence of violating the sacred laws of the supernatural world. It was a precarious balance of power, one that left me both vulnerable and strangely protected at the same time.
"Yes, it fucking another trouble." I murmured.
To be continued.