The Blood Orc, overwhelmed by the deceptively ordinary appearance of the young demon before him, felt a surge of frustration unlike anything he had ever experienced. Though not particularly clever, he knew his place well, ruling over this corner of the Outer Edge of the Forbidden Zone like a petty king. He had always been careful not to bite off more than he could chew, ensuring he never faced a battle he couldn't win. This current predicament, however, was entirely foreign to him. He had never anticipated being pushed to such limits, and the desperation drove him to resort to his ultimate trump card to escape the situation.
Muttering in the guttural tones of the Orcish tongue, he activated his unique ability.
"Berserk!"
Instantly, steam erupted from every pore of his body, as if he were a living steam engine. His muscles tensed to their absolute limit, swelling and reddening, becoming denser and more resilient. His eyes transformed into those of a frenzied beast, devoid of reason and driven purely by primal instinct—the instinct to destroy. This ability came at a cost, stripping him of all rationality and leaving him reliant solely on his raw, destructive impulses.
Naturally, Damon, being in close proximity to the orc, noticed the drastic transformation. His blood surged with anticipation, and his keen golden eyes narrowed, focusing intently on every minute detail of the orc's change. Instinctively, Damon understood that he couldn't afford to miss a single moment—this was critical information he could exploit to his advantage. His focus sharpened to an unparalleled degree, all in service of completing the skill he had begun crafting moments earlier.
Suddenly, the monster attacked, a powerful punch came his way.
The force of the Blood Orc's punch was so overwhelming that Damon took the full impact head-on. The orc's compacted muscles had granted him terrifying speed—so fast that Damon couldn't even track the movement. It seemed as though the orc had burned his blood essence to amplify his speed even further, a realization that struck Damon as his body was sent flying through the air after the punch connected with his face.
Bam!
The blow was devastating. Damon's left cheek caved in, and the pain from the blow felt as though he'd been struck by a truck. The sheer force of the impact momentarily stunned him, leaving him unable to react. Blood poured from his mouth and nose as his body skidded across the surface of the lake like a stone skipping over water. After what felt like an eternity, he finally sank beneath the surface. But there was no time to recover—the berserk Blood Orc had already grabbed a medium-sized boulder and hurled it toward him with terrifying precision. The stone shot through the air like a comet, landing exactly where Damon had submerged.
Forced to act quickly, Damon punched the boulder as it hurtled toward him, shattering it just as he rose to the surface.
Boom!
But the Blood Orc was already waiting, his fist cocked back for a punch that seemed capable of shattering space itself. Damon barely had time to cross his arms in defense before the blow landed.
Bang! Boom!
The impact was monstrous. Though Damon's sturdy bones held firm, his skin was torn apart by the force, and the recoil sent his body flying backward once more. He vomited another mouthful of blood—the second time in less than a minute—as his body tumbled across the lake's surface like a ragdoll. His extraordinary regenerative ability kicked in instantly, healing his injuries as if time itself had rewound. Yet, despite the rapid recovery, a wave of dizziness assaulted him, leaving his already pale complexion even ghostlier.
"Damn! This pain is unbearable!" Damon cursed, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth as the frenzied Blood Orc charged at him with full force.
Instead of fear, Damon's golden eyes gleamed with intensity. He scrutinized every minute detail of the monster's body, his gaze seemingly piercing through its flesh, analyzing every cell and how the berserk energy was distributed to tighten its muscles. He absorbed every detail, integrating them into a mental image of himself—a skeleton at first, then muscles began to form, cells replicating what he observed. His goal was clear: to control his blood to manipulate every cell. Blood carried vitality, and thus energy, which could be used to temporarily strengthen specific cells. This temporary boost would last until the vitality in the blood was exhausted, which was why he drained the blood essence of the monsters he killed. Additionally, his godlike regenerative ability allowed him to instantly restore his cells and vitality to some extent. If he could perfect this ability, it would become nothing short of divine.
Even Lilith and Baalor, observing from a distance, couldn't help but acknowledge his genius and creativity.
"You're certainly bold. I'm sure I'll be entertained for a while. Hehehe! After you return, let's head to the banquet. I'm eager to see what unfolds," Lilith thought, a sense of anticipation building within her.
Meanwhile, Baalor frowned, an inexplicable sense of displeasure gnawing at him. He resolved once more to teach Damon a lesson through rigorous training later.
Back at Damon's location, oblivious to the thoughts of others, he continued refining his skill. Time seemed to slow as the berserk Blood Orc inched closer, almost upon him.
"Huh! Let's call it Blood Art," he muttered under his breath.