'Today is the day I break free from the chain of weakling.'
[Notification: Use the ability "Devouring Sphere of Dracid"]
[Ability: [Devouring Sphere of Dracid] this ability allows its wielder to form sphere that can swallow in anything.]
[To use it: You must place your right palm above your left one with a gap of 20-22 centimeters.]
With no time to hesitate as the enemy loomed menacingly before him, Ingrit followed the screen's instructions. He positioned his left palm below his right, maintaining a precise 20-centimeter gap.
"What should I do next?" he asked hurriedly, his voice taut with urgency.
[Visualize concentrating all of your magical energy at the midpoint of the gap between your palms.]
Ingrit turned sharply, his instincts taking over as he surged forward through the ocean with all the speed he could muster.
The water rushed past him as he closed his eyes, focusing entirely on the task at hand.
'Visualize.'
His teeth clenched as a wave of anxiety washed over him, the knowledge of the enemy's relentless pursuit gnawing at his composure.
'Come on, concentrate. Calm down, damn it!'
he thought, his face etched with tension.
After an agonizing struggle, he managed to steady his nerves and began visualizing his purplish energy flowing from his heart to his hands. Yet, this was where the real challenge began. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to shape it into a stable, larger sphere.
Energy poured out from both palms, meeting at the midpoint between his hands. Slowly, it started to coalesce into a sphere—but it trembled and wavered, dangerously unstable.
Opening his eyes briefly, Ingrit risked a glance over his shoulder, fearing the worst. But to his surprise, the merman-like sea beast wasn't charging after him. Instead, it remained in place, a confident grin plastered across its face.
The sight stung Ingrit's pride, though it made sense. Despite his recent awakening, his magical energy was still at a novice level. It was a small improvement over his previous state, but far from enough to pose a real threat.
He turned back ahead, his focus sharpening as he thought:
'At least it's not chasing me... for now.'
Diving forward with renewed determination, he yelled, "FORM, DAMN IT!"
To his astonishment, as if responding to his sheer willpower, the energy suddenly solidified into a glowing purple sphere, 20 centimeters in diameter.
But his victory was short-lived.
A piercing scream from the sea beast echoed through the water, sending a shiver down Ingrit's spine. The sound disrupted his focus, destabilizing the sphere until it fizzled out of existence.
"What?!" Ingrit gasped, shock and disbelief etched into his features.
The monster erupted into mocking laughter. "Hahahahaha."
Cracking its neck with a sinister smirk, it dashed toward Ingrit with terrifying speed. "It's no use," the creature sneered.
Before Ingrit could react, the beast closed the distance in few seconds. Its powerful right fist slammed into his gut, the sheer force sending him hurtling backward as searing pain tore through his body.
"No matter what you try," the creature taunted, its smirk widening devilishly, "as long as it's energy, I can make it disappear. Your pathetic attacks are useless against me."
The monster brought its right wrist to its mouth, baring sharp, jagged teeth. With a savage bite, it tore into its own flesh, causing blood to gush out.
The blood didn't fall—it coalesced almost instantly, forming into a crimson blade that glistened ominously.
With a sudden burst of speed, the monster lunged at Ingrit again, its blood blade swinging in a deadly arc.
Gritting his teeth through the pain, Ingrit ducked at the last moment, narrowly avoiding the lethal strike. The blade of blood whooshed above him.
The monster, failing to cut its prey down with its blood-red sword, leaped back with a sinister grin. It crouched slightly, leaning to its left before spinning violently. Its massive, scaly tail whipped through the water with deadly force, slamming into Ingrit's face.
Ingrit was sent hurtling backward. He managed to shield himself just in time, crossing his forearms to block the direct blow.
Although his face was spared, his arms bore the brunt of the impact, now deeply gashed and bleeding. Crimson droplets floated in the water, mingling with the swirling currents.
"Tsk… It hurts," Ingrit muttered through gritted teeth, his expression contorted with pain.
A one-meter gap now separated Ingrit from the monster. Sensing an opportunity to finish off its prey, the creature dashed forward, its movement swift and predatory.
Ingrit, breathing heavily, raised his trembling right hand over his left. Energy crackled between his palms as he began forming the devouring sphere.
The monster's red eyes widened in recognition, and it abruptly halted its charge, leaping backward with a low growl.
Ingrit froze momentarily, his own eyes widening in surprise at the creature's retreat. But realization dawned quickly, and a confident smirk crept across his face.
"I see… So you can't use your energy-blocking ability nonstop, can you? Otherwise, you wouldn't have jumped back just now."
The monster's expression darkened. It let out a derisive snarl, attempting to mask its vulnerability.
"Hmph. So what if I can't use it nonstop? Do you really think I need that ability to crush a weakling like you? Your magical energy is still at a novice level, while I'm far above that. That's more than enough to kill you."
The creature thought bitterly to itself:
'I can only use 'Energy Blocker' once every minute…'
With newfound resolve, it lunged toward Ingrit again, its blood sword gleaming wickedly, each movement radiating a murderous aura.
This time, Ingrit stood his ground, closing his eyes to focus on producing the sphere. His mind was a storm of concentration, every fiber of his being committed to survival.
'20 seconds… That's how long it will take him to reach me. It's just enough. I must focus. If I fail… I'm doomed.'
A soft, luminous purple light began emanating from Ingrit's palms, growing stronger with each passing second. The energy from both hands collided and merged, forming the nucleus of the devouring sphere.
"Die, brat!" the monster roared, now just meters away, its sword raised to strike.
Ingrit's eyes snapped open just in time to see the blade rushing toward his chest. Acting on instinct, he shifted to his left, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow.
But the tip of the sword still grazed his upper arm, leaving a deep cut. Pain shot through him, and he clenched his teeth to suppress a scream.
The monster sneered, attempting to pull back its sword for another strike. But Ingrit, now fully engulfed in the sphere's gentle yet powerful purple glow, stepped forward despite his wounds.
"AAAAAHHH!" he bellowed, pushing through the agony as he thrust the completed sphere into the monster's abdomen.
The sphere rotated violently upon contact, embedding itself into the creature's belly.
"ARGHH!" the monster growled, its sharp teeth gnashing together in fury.
Then, something strange began to happen. The sphere started pulling the monster's body inward, its force growing stronger with each second.
"What?! What's happening?!" the monster bellowed in panic.
The suction intensified. First, its lower body was drawn in, and then its torso, as if the sphere were devouring it whole.
"No… No! This can't be happening!" the creature screamed, its voice growing desperate.
Ingrit's voice, trembling with pain but burning with determination, cut through the chaos:
"I won't lose. Today marks the first step in breaking free from being called a weakling. I will become the strongest diver of all time!"
The monster's expression turned to one of utter devastation as the sphere consumed the last of its form. Its screams echoed briefly before silence fell.
For a fleeting moment, the sphere rotated serenely in the water, glowing softly, before vanishing completely.
Ingrit remained standing, his chest heaving as he stared ahead in disbelief. His mind struggled to process what had just happened.
'I did it…'
"I… I finally defeated a sea beast," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of astonishment and joy.
A weak laugh escaped him, but his triumph was short-lived. The accumulated pain of his injuries surged through his body, and he collapsed, his vision blurring.
He heard some clicking sounds in his head:
[Congratulation: You have slain an E rank Sea Beast]
[You have unlocked a new ability called 'Wing of Dracid']
[You have activated skill "Dominance over abilities"]
[You have extracted abilities called "Blood Manipulation" "Magic Energy Blocker" "Medium Swimmer"]
[You have leveled up]
[You have obtained 5% power of Dracid]
["Rebirth" arc ends]
***
Meanwhile, at an underground drug manufacturing factory:
The scene was one of utter carnage. Everyone inside had been slaughtered with grotesque brutality. Some corpses were charred beyond recognition, their flesh crackling and blackened as if they had been fried alive, while others were grotesquely dismembered, missing heads or limbs. The hallway offered no reprieve from the horror—it was awash with blood, the crimson lifeblood of the headless bodies strewn carelessly on the floor like discarded trash.
Inside a large, dimly lit room within the factory, five men huddled together, trembling visibly. Four of them, rugged and heavily armed, stood as shields around a distinguished-looking middle-aged man dressed in a sleek black suit. He exuded an air of authority and wealth, unmistakably the factory's owner. The bodyguards, gripping their swords with white-knuckled intensity, were visibly on edge.
Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the silent, blood-stained corridors. The steady, deliberate rhythm sent waves of terror coursing through the room. Each step grew louder, more ominous, until all five men gasped in unison. They knew who was coming. The Grim Reaper himself—the masked reaper who spared no one—was closing in. Escape was a futile hope.
Though these men were members of the world's most feared criminal syndicate, bolstered by their elite rogue mages, they knew they were utterly powerless against him.
All eyes were glued to the open doorway. Then, he appeared, Lightning-Clown. His figure emerged from the darkness, his white clown mask splattered with fresh blood, his gait casual yet menacing. He seemed unfazed by the armed guards, as if their presence was beneath his notice.
"Don't come any closer!" one of the bodyguards shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear. His hands shook uncontrollably as he raised his weapon. The other guards were no better, their faces pale, their bodies trembling.
But Lightning-Clown didn't stop. He advanced slowly, methodically, his every step deliberate and measured. The tension in the room snapped like a taut string as the four guards tightened their grips on their swords and lunged at him.
In the blink of an eye, it was over. Their heads flew through the air, severed cleanly from their necks in one fluid motion. Blood sprayed like a gruesome fountain, painting the room in shades of red. Lightning-Clown now stood directly in front of the boss, his body crackling faintly with arcs of electricity. The severed heads hit the ground with heavy thuds, followed closely by the lifeless bodies, collapsing in a heap of crimson gore.
"W-why are you doing th-this?" the factory owner stammered, his voice trembling as his knees buckled under him.
"This is my job. I do anything for money," Lightning-Clown replied, his voice eerily calm and detached.
"Wait, no—" The man's plea was cut short as his upper body slid from his waist, a single, clean strike having bisected him. His severed torso hit the ground with a grotesque squelch, adding yet another macabre layer to the blood-soaked factory floor...