Death Heir's Devouring System
Chapter 67: Screaming Stillness

Chapter 67: Screaming Stillness

’These should be easier than the others, right?’ Azrael thought, after all, in theory this was the first time he was fighting abominations that were weaker than himself.

Up until now, every monster he’d faced had been at least on par with his power. The Scarven were at his Level, sure—but his Rank was higher than theirs.

This fight might have even been a breeze... if not for their overwhelming numbers.

At a glance, he estimated their numbers to be in the hundreds.

"They shouldn’t be able to reach me beyond the armor." He reasoned, making a mental note to protect his head since that was the only thing that was left exposed for possible attack.

Thanks to his staggering speed, he reached them in a heartbeat.

Tensing his muscles, he slashed with his scythe.

The Blessed weapon passed through the abominations with no resistance at all. The blade was simply superior to their bodies in every single way possible.

Due to the nature of the scythe, with one wide strike, Azrael had displaced more than ten of the insect-like monsters.

But that didn’t mean he was in the clear. For these flying monsters had the advantage of being fast—they flew, after all.

Taking a step back with a lowered head to protect his weak point, the Heir of Death slashed once more, causing more bodies to fall and become part of the bloody lake below.

’The system doesn’t speak in my head, as I thought these things are simply too weak.’

Certain now that no matter how many of these lesser foes he slew, he wouldn’t lose himself further to madness, Azrael let his instinct run wild.

At that moment he moved like a blur among the countless flying insects. With wide swings he dispatched more beings than the eyes could count.

Surrounded from every angle, he danced between them with grace, dodging the sharp stingers that tried to pierce his exposed head.

His figure, bathed in blood, could only be recognized from afar by two things: the miraculous cigar that was in his mouth and the cool blue flame that fed it.

It served several vital roles; it healed him, cooled down his body, and provided a source of light in the darkness.

Time began to blur. All Azrael felt was the aching of his body. The lifeless figures that fell onto him from his relentless slaughter. And the waves of pleasure his armor was sending his way.

A sudden, loud screech froze him in place.

He gasped, snapping out of his trance.

Everywhere he looked—piles of bodies, not ones thrown from the edge of the canyon—these ones had fallen from his blade.

"How long was I out?"

Cinder landed on one of the piles he had created and tilted its head to the side. Then it proceeded to ignore him completely; it opened its beak wide, revealing its black fangs as it began to devour the slain beings.

"Have I gone mental? I know that you can’t talk." Shaking his head, he checked his stats.

Item Blood Progression: [220,000/1,000,000 (cubic meters)]

Corruption Progression: [40/100]

"40?!"

His eyes opened wide, he hadn’t checked his stats since he lost hold of himself. Had he killed more Twisted Beings than he’d realized?

Still in disbelief, he took a glance at his armor. The attire was slowly changing color, from crimson to bottomless black. Its form was starting to harden, becoming even tougher to crack.

He didn’t want to admit it, but it seemed the more blood Truth Seeker consumed, the more it affected his mind. Even now, all Azrael could think about was how much he wanted to fight and bathe in the blood of his enemies.

’Better go deeper.’ He thought, not because of the Truth Seeker’s influence on his mind, but from a simple observation. The further he moved from the canyon’s edge, the fewer enemies he encountered. So, logically, the farther south he went, the fewer foes he would have to face.

...in theory.

With a sigh, he continued forward, making sure to step on the piles of bodies, since he didn’t want to take another plunge into the blood lake.

He kept one eye on his surroundings in case of ambush, the other on his armor’s progress.

What he noticed stunned him.

The more he travelled south, the faster his attire would consume blood. It wasn’t like the speed it devoured the liquid increased, so he guessed that the blood was more condensed further south.

For whatever reason that was, he didn’t care. He would simply continue south until Truth Seeker ranked up, and then he would be out of the area.

The more time he soaked in the blood lake, the more he felt his sanity leaving him.

Fortunately, his theory had proved correct; he wasn’t attacked for some time.

Taking steady steps, he made small ripples in the deadly calm lake. Cinder flew overhead in circular motions, crimson eyes observing for any threats.

But there was none.

Item Blood Progression: [300,000/1,000,000 (cubic meters)]

Night had long ago fallen on the land, and to Azrael’s surprise, it wasn’t as dark as he thought it would be.

While the Golden Lands would get impossibly dark, the blood lake was different. For some unfamiliar stars loomed overhead across the vast plain.

Thanks to the Moon Breakers, Azrael knew how planets were meant to function—which only deepened his confusion. Stars visible from only certain regions of the planet? The only logical explanation was the presence of particles—perhaps created by machines or similar sources—dense enough to obscure the sky.

But on this cursed world, no such particles were supposed to exist.

"Better not dwell on it. This has to be the side effect of the high Corruption on the planet." He figured, slowly continuing forward.

Item Blood Progression: [400,000/1,000,000 (cubic meters)]

He was almost halfway there, that was good news at least since he was beginning to feel hunger slowly brewing in his stomach. He could ignore the feeling, of course, but it was only a matter of time until it began to affect his performance in battle.

Eventually, night passed, and dawn rose over the land, giving him a better view of the lake.

The lake was... calm.

Unnaturally so.

Even in the calmest seas, oceans, and rivers, there would be at least small waves, ripples across their reflecting surface, or some debris.

But now it was so calm, so peaceful, that it made Azrael raise his guard several folds. He would prefer if he were under the constant onslaught of monsters. Then at least he would know what he was up against.

"Why does this place exist? I understand the other lands on the planet are caused by Corruption, but this is obviously intentionally made by the knights, probably by the order of the so-called King. What could be their goal in all of this?"

Nevertheless, he kept on going, his armor was growing stronger, and he wasn’t going to refuse power no matter where it came from.

Item Blood Progression: [600,000/1,000,000 (cubic meters)]

The ground beneath his feet began to feel even—firm. He wasn’t walking atop corpses anymore. The bottom of the canyon was not so deep here.

Judging by the terrain, he figured he was approaching its end.

’Maybe it’d be smarter to stop here,’ he figured, heaving a sigh.

He was just about to observe the area again until something brushed against his foot.

"The hell?" He recoiled backwards, calling forth his scythe.

However, to his surprise, what he saw beneath his feet wasn’t a monster that tried to swallow him whole.

It was... a crimson rose.