Tessa's gaze was locked on the intense battle unfolding below. Her eyes were narrowed with a mix of concern and calculation as she watched Reinhardt and the half-demon youth clash. Cruzer, noticing her intense focus, followed her line of sight, his own expression mirroring her tension.
The ground was scarred with massive craters, the aftermath of the fierce confrontation between the two combatants.
Reinhardt took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs as his body coiled with latent power. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to unleash his full strength at a moment's notice. His Mystic abilities, refined through years of disciplined training, were centered around his body—his fists, feet, and spirit.
He was a living fortress, unyielding and formidable, known for his ability to withstand the most devastating attacks and retaliate with crushing force.
Across from him, the half-demon youth exuded an angry aura as he glared at Reinhardt. His pale, almost translucent skin was marked with intricate black patterns that seemed to pulse with dark energy.
His eyes glowed with an unsettling crimson light, and sharp, horn-like protrusions jutted from his forehead. A long, dark cloak billowed around him, adding to his otherworldly presence. He was a necromancer of formidable skill, a master of death and decay.
As they clashed, frustration began to build within the half-demon youth. No matter what skill he used, Reinhardt effortlessly countered, his experience and power making the youth's efforts seem almost trivial.
The half-demon youth raised a hand, and the ground beneath them trembled. Shadows stretched and twisted, coalescing into a horde of skeletal warriors armed with jagged blades and hollow, lifeless eyes.
Not only that, but he also turned the dead adventurers and bandits into his undead minions. The necromancer's lips curled into a sinister smile as he unleashed his first attack.
"Rise, my soldiers of the damned," he intoned, his voice dripping with malice. "Show him the true power of death." The battlefield, littered with the bodies of adventurers and bandits, became his playground.
Zombified adventurers staggered to their feet, their movements jerky and unnatural. They began to charge at Reinhardt when he suddenly pushed his left leg back, aligning it with his left arm.
He shouted, "Tornado Fist!" as he concentrated his mana into his fist. With a swift, powerful motion, he thrust his fist forward, unleashing a massive aerial shockwave that tore through the undead, shredding them into pieces.
The half-demon youth's eyes narrowed, his face darkening with anger. "Impressive, but let's see how you handle this," he muttered through gritted teeth.
He spread his arms wide, and dark energy crackled around him. The air grew thick with the stench of decay as more undead creatures clawed their way out of the ground.
Reinhardt didn't flinch. He moved with the precision of a seasoned warrior, his body a blur as he dispatched the oncoming horde. His fists and feet became a whirlwind of destruction, enhanced by his elemental affinity for air.
Every strike sent shockwaves through the air, obliterating his foes with devastating force.
"Is that all you've got, boy?" Reinhardt taunted, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "You'll need more than corpses to bring me down."
The half-demon youth could no longer control his anger, his red eyes narrowing in frustration. "You think you're untouchable? Let's see how you handle the flames of hell!" he screamed, his voice dripping with undisguised fury.
With a flick of his wrist, he conjured a massive fireball, dark and corrupted, and hurled it toward Reinhardt.
Reinhardt countered instantly, his body twisting as he summoned his own flames, pure and bright. "Fire Serpent!" he roared, and a serpentine flame shot from his hands, clashing with the necromancer's attack. The two forces collided in a brilliant explosion of light and dark, the ground beneath them shaking from the impact.
"Is that it, boy?" Reinhardt asked, his voice dripping with disdain as he stared down the half-demon youth.
The half-demon youth's face twisted into a hideous snarl. Being looked down upon infuriated him. Realizing his attacks were getting him nowhere, his eyes darted to the soul orb he had been safeguarding—the one containing the souls of the slain bandits and adventurers.
Desperation gripped him as he understood that his only chance lay in unleashing its power.
With a final, desperate move, the half-demon youth raised the soul orb high, chanting in a guttural, ancient language.
"Demon rituals," Tessa muttered beside him, her voice laced with unease. "If only we, humans, had an understanding of that language, we might have developed more efficient spells and skills to counter demons. The language is ancient, older than any known to us."
Cruzer, watching from afar, felt a chill run down his spine as he listened to the words. It was then that he realized something startling—he could understand the chant.
Cruzer's eyes widened at her words. He had always known he was no ordinary person, and his talent awakening had proven that, but this? Understanding a demonic ritual? It was beyond anything he could have imagined.
He decided to keep quiet about it, fearing that revealing this ability might bring catastrophe upon him. Turning to Tessa, he asked, trying to mask his unease, "Tessa, should we really let him complete that transformation? Shouldn't we stop him?"
Tessa glanced at him, her expression calm despite the chaos below. "Don't worry about it," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips. "Uncle Reinhardt knows exactly what he's doing. The half-demon can transform all he wants, but it won't change the outcome."
The orb pulsed with dark energy, the souls within writhing as they were forced to merge with their captor.
The youth's body convulsed as the souls were absorbed into him, his form twisting and warping under the strain. His aura grew darker, more malevolent, as his power surged. His eyes, now blazing with an even more intense crimson, locked onto Reinhardt.
"I'll show you the true meaning of power," the half-demon youth snarled, his voice distorted and filled with the agony of the souls he had consumed. "I will ascend to the Advanced Tier, and you will be the first to fall!"
Reinhardt's expression remained the same as he prepared for the next stage of the battle. But as the half-demon youth's transformation reached its peak, the air around them crackled with anticipation. Cruzer could sense the impending clash, knowing it would determine the outcome of this deadly encounter.