RISE OF THE HOLY DEMONIC GOD
Chapter 117: Cloaked in Shadows – A Walk Toward Isolation

Rey closed the system interface with a faint sigh, stepping out from the quiet void of the White Room. Time felt unreal inside that place—but the ticking of the clock in his world was merciless.

Checking the time, he frowned.

Afternoon...

‘Emmy should’ve returned by now...’

He hadn’t heard her footsteps while inside White Space, yet some instinct told him she was already back.

Without a word, he headed downstairs.

Each step felt heavier than expected.

His eyes drifted over the familiar walls of his home, yet the comfort was missing—as if he were walking through a memory, not reality. It should’ve been normal. It wasn’t.

It felt like centuries had passed since the last time he’d walked these steps.

Rey paused briefly at the corner, scanning the drawing room.

Empty.

A sound echoed softly from the kitchen.

He tensed.

His expression cooled instantly, muscles tightening as silent suspicion gripped him. After what he endured inside the Abyss, paranoia wasn’t just a habit—it was survival.

Without hesitation, his hand slid behind his back, gripping the dagger concealed in his shadow.

He moved silently toward the noise.

Each breath was controlled. Each step was calculated.

‘Is this still that damn Abyss? Is this another illusion...?’

Yet when he peered inside the kitchen—what he found wasn’t horror.

It was normalcy.

His mother and sister, standing side by side, working together.

Cooking.

Rey blinked, his grip loosening.

‘...Just them?’

He exhaled, the coldness in his gaze finally softening as he withdrew his dagger and let it vanish silently back into his shadow.

‘I thought... something followed me back.’

He approached carefully, watching as both Jasmine and Emmy focused entirely on preparing something.

They hadn’t noticed him at all.

Frowning slightly, Rey pulled out a chair and sat down directly across from them.

And only then—

“Rey?! When did you get here?!” Jasmine flinched, nearly dropping the bowl in her hands.

Emmy jerked up, eyes wide.

“I didn’t even see you!” Jasmine added, visibly startled.

Rey’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Huh? But... I’ve been standing here for a while.”

Neither mother nor daughter responded. Both looked genuinely bewildered.

Rey glanced down at himself, then back up at them.

“Maybe... you were just too focused on your work to notice me.”

He said it more to convince himself than them.

Jasmine forced a chuckle, her body visibly relaxing now that the surprise faded.

“Oh... maybe. You scared me for a second.”

Then concern returned to her voice as she carefully passed a bowl toward Emmy’s tiny hands.

“Are you feeling alright? You’ve been sleeping for a long time. Are you unwell, son?”

“I’m fine. Just... tired,” Rey replied vaguely, shaking his head. “What are you two making?”

Jasmine smiled gently. “A dessert. Glazebloom cake. I’ve always wanted to make it for you two.”

“I’m helping!” Emmy chimed proudly, holding up a bowl smeared with batter.

Rey stared for a moment before nodding.

“That’s... great. I’ll have some later.”

But his mind was elsewhere.

‘I can’t tell them... I just crossed the Abyss to learn an Art. They wouldn’t understand. Maybe think of me as a fool or idiot, too.’

He stood abruptly.

“Mom... can I go out for a while? I feel... suffocated.”

Jasmine hesitated, her hand pausing mid-stir.

The silence stretched.

Then she forced herself to nod.

“Just... be careful, Rey. Don’t go near strange people. And avoid quiet places.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Rey smiled faintly, though even that felt hollow to him, and turned away.

Jasmine watched his back fade down the hall, her heart clenching with unease.

‘Why do I feel... like he’s further away than before?’

She shook the thought away.

“Emmy, be careful! You’re spilling—”

Outside the kitchen, Rey paused.

Staring at his hands.

They looked normal.

But...

‘What’s this...?’

His eyes narrowed.

A faint layer, like transparent silk, shimmered over his skin, almost invisible but undeniably present.

He called out silently.

‘Aiden. Am I... covered in something?’

“Hm?” Aiden appeared lazily beside him, only to go silent upon inspecting him.

After a moment, he clicked his tongue.

“Damn. Kid... you’re cloaked.”

Rey’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

“You’re wrapped in something like a thin, nearly invisible veil. Covers your whole body. I didn’t notice until now... but yeah. This is your Art’s doing.”

Rey looked at his own skin.

His pulse quickened.

‘So... Mom and Emmy didn’t ignore me. They couldn’t see me properly?’

“Not exactly invisible,” Aiden explained grimly, walking circles around Rey, inspecting him. “More like... existence-obscured. You’re there, yet not.”

Rey’s throat felt dry.

‘What if... I lose them entirely one day? What if... this veil consumes me?’

Aiden paused.

Even he didn’t have an answer.

“Don’t overthink. It’s probably just an uncontrolled effect of your Art at its current level. Once you master it, this shroud should respond to your will.”

Rey didn’t reply.

His silence said enough.

Aiden clapped him lightly on the shoulder, forcing a grin.

“Stop looking like you’re cursed. You’re alive, aren’t you?”

Then, he vanished back into the White Space.

Rey exhaled shakily.

‘Hope so...’

He stepped outside.

Sunlight hit him.

But he didn’t feel its warmth.

It felt cold.

Like he didn’t belong in it anymore.

He didn’t know where he was going.

He just knew he needed to move.

Without thinking, he activated Eclipse Shroud.

Darkness surged from beneath his feet, swallowing him silently as his body blended into the shadows.

He raced forward.

Not wanting to see people.

Not wanting to be seen.

He moved across rooftops, between alleyways, like a phantom.

At some point, he noticed something strange.

His movements felt... different.

Weightless.

‘Why... does it feel like gravity isn’t pulling me anymore?’

He checked his skill panel mid-run.

Phantom Shift [S-Rank]:
Gravity Suppression — Active.
Friction Reduction — Active.
Momentum Bypass — Active.

A cold grin spread across his lips.

So, this was the result of his new evolution.

‘The world’s pull... doesn’t affect me anymore.’

Without hesitation, he pushed forward, leaping across rooftops like he once dreamed as a child watching those old martial films.

But now—it wasn’t fantasy.

It was reality.

His skill responded to his movements. As he focused ahead, he instinctively felt it activate.

Flicker Steps.

A flash.

His body surged forward like a blade slicing through the air.

No resistance.

No delay.

And the best part?

He wasn’t even using the full skill yet.

‘I don’t have to... run anymore. I can vanish.’

Time blurred.

He finally slowed near the city’s outskirts.

Rey’s next goal was clear.

After everything—the trial, the Abyss, that bitter taste of helplessness—he wasn’t wasting another second.

Training had to begin.

The old Rey might’ve hesitated. The one who stood frozen in front of overwhelming beings. But now?

He wanted to break that version of himself.

His new battle style, a fluid switch between weapons forged during his endless sparring under Abyss Trial's ruthless battles, needed to be sharpened.

And home was no place for that.

Nor was the martial center, which remained shut after his last... incident.

Not that he regretted it.

Using Eclipse Shroud, Rey slipped through the city’s streets unnoticed, blending into shadows effortlessly. People brushed past him, none aware of the specter in their midst. Not even the sunlight could expose him.

‘Invisible... even in light. Guess this is my new normal now.’

At the edge of the city, he slowed, searching.

He needed somewhere forgotten.

Somewhere empty.

Somewhere, no one would find him.

Minutes passed before his gaze fell upon it.

A decaying structure sprawled like a corpse on the earth.

An abandoned factory.

Perfect.

The place reeked of death. Not literally, but through whispers and rumours that circulated endlessly in the city.

He skimmed the reports from his phone as he approached.

Haunted. Cursed. Guards slaughtered. Their bodies were torn apart. Blood was soaking the walls.

People who went inside? They didn’t return.

When search teams finally dared enter, all they found were scattered bones and dried blood.

Locals called it the Haunted Factory.

Rey simply called it his new training ground.

He smiled faintly, gripping his dagger.

‘A ghost, huh? That would’ve scared me before.’

But after facing entities that transcended reality, what was a mere "ghost"?

If it even existed.

He moved forward without hesitation.

Rey didn’t bother entering through the front.

He scaled the cracked walls, his movements smooth and silent as he reached the rooftop. His Night Vision kicked in naturally, and he scanned the dark, dust-choked surroundings.

Desolate. Forgotten.

But ideal.

Spacious. Isolated. Perfect.

‘Let’s claim this place.’

Crouching near the edge of the roof, Rey ensured no nearby houses existed—neighbours long gone, driven out by fear and whispers.

Good.

No one would disturb him here.

Not unless they wanted to die.

His first priority: security.

Rey located a rusted door at the rooftop’s edge and slipped inside.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

But he didn’t care.

His new physiology made the dark irrelevant.

Descending slowly, Rey explored every empty floor, sweeping through offices long abandoned. The air was stale, heavy with dust.

Furniture rotted quietly in corners.

Chairs and desks, shattered and splintered, lined the corridors.

Nothing moved.

Until—

A sharp scream.

Rey spun instinctively toward the source.

Only to sigh.

‘A mouse... Seriously?’

The tiny rodent scurried past him, oblivious to how close death had come.

Shaking his head, Rey moved deeper.

No fear.

No hesitation.

Just readiness.

This was no horror story.

This was training.

And ghosts?

If one appeared, he’d cut it down too.

Victor’s voice echoed dryly in his mind.

“Funny. You’re more worried about wasting time than running from death.”

Aiden chuckled, floating lazily beside him.

“Good. Took you long enough to stop acting like prey.”

Both spirits followed silently as Rey pushed deeper into the factory’s guts, moving methodically.

They too had checked.

No ghost. No entity.

Nothing here but the past.

Though the deep scars etched along the walls and floors suggested something had once torn this place apart, neither spirit sensed a lingering threat.

For now.

Victor, ever pragmatic, suggested they let Rey train uninterrupted.

If something emerged?

Rey would face it.

Or die trying.

Simple.

Rey didn’t care.

His mind was elsewhere—focused.

Doors jammed with vines and rusted shut were no obstacle.

He sliced through them with his dagger, clearing rooms without a trace of hesitation. Bloodstains. Deep claw marks. Overgrowth is creeping through cracks in the ceiling.

None of it mattered.

This wasn’t a haunted factory.

This was his crucible.

And Rey welcomed it.

Room after empty room, his movements grew sharper, more fluid.

Finally, after six floors, only the machinery level remained.

Victor and Aiden watched quietly as Rey, ignoring their presence now, cut down the last overgrown door.

And found nothing.

Not a monster.

Not a curse.

Just silence.

With that, Rey turned and strode back upstairs.

No panic. No sprinting.

He wasn’t running from phantoms anymore.

He secured the rooftop once more, bolting the door tight behind him.

A loud clang echoed.

He flinched—not from fear, but irritation.

‘Tch... That was too loud.’

Paranoia was a tool now, not a weakness.

If someone heard that, his training ground could be compromised.

Rey scanned the surroundings silently.

Nothing moved in the nearby streets.

Good.

Yet, somewhere in the deep shadows below, something... shifted.

Something... or someone... had heard him.

Whether it was human or not—that remained to be seen.

Atop the rooftop, Rey didn’t waste another moment.

He set up his training dummies—simple wooden posts he carried inside his shadow storage. Efficient. Replaceable.

One by one, his weapons materialised around him in an elegant display.

His Weapon Arsenal.

Blades. Spear. Gloves. Gun. Bows. Shield.

Tools of death lined up like soldiers awaiting command.

A soft hum vibrated through the air as he opened his interface and checked his Weapon Mastery Progress.

Each weapon had its own meter. Each weapon needed its own refinement.

And he’d master them all.

‘Let’s begin.’

Victor smirked faintly.

Aiden crossed his arms.

Neither spoke.

Because for the first time—

Rey didn’t need pushing.

He was moving forward on his own.

Into the silence.

Into the shadows.

Into strength.

───◈ Arsenal Mastery ◈───

Sword: E- ↑ (3%)

Dagger/Knives: E ↑ (19%)

Spear: F+ ↑ (4%)

Shield: F ↑ (24%)

Bow: F- (0%)

Greatsword: E- ↑ (04%)

Hand-to-Hand: E- ↑ (0%)

Gun: F- (0%)

Hammer: F ↑ (13%)

Katana: F- (0%)

───◈◈◈◈◈───

Rey stood atop the silent, ruined rooftop, scanning the weapons laid neatly before him.

Pathetic.

That’s the only word that crossed his mind as he opened the Weapon Arsenal Interface, seeing weapon mastery stats that barely scratched E-rank. Some were still locked at the beginner stage, untouched.

‘After all that trial, all that growth… and still nothing. Just how far am I from even being decent?’ he thought bitterly.

He clenched his fists. Memories of the Abyss Trial flooded back—the sensation of wielding weapons in life-or-death combat, fighting until his arms went numb, only to wake up here and realise those moments of desperation hadn’t translated into skill.

But unlike before, he wasn’t afraid.

He wasn’t desperate.

Now, he was determined.

“Let’s begin,” Rey whispered, his voice low, yet calm.

Without hesitation, he drew the bow from his shadows. Unlike before, the weapon felt... real. Familiar. He hadn't noticed during the trial, but holding it now, he could feel a faint connection—the subtle pulse of potential.

“Let’s start with you.”

A wooden arrow appeared in his hand. He nocked it, pulled the string tight, and released.

The arrow slammed into the dirt beside the dummy.

At least it didn’t hit his own foot.

Rey exhaled a shaky breath, but he smiled faintly. ‘Not bad. Not great. But not bad.’

Arrow after arrow, shot after shot—failure followed failure.

But Rey’s gaze only grew sharper.

He remembered what Aiden once told him: “Mastery isn’t when you succeed, but when you refuse to stop failing.”

Each miss taught him something new. Each mistake became a stepping stone. His arms trembled, sweat poured down his back, but his arrows flew straighter, closer, sharper.

Hours passed.

Notifications of [Bow Mastery Increased] rang in his mind, but he ignored them.

He didn’t need the system to tell him.

He could feel it.

His arrows were beginning to hit the mark.

Zero particles silently cleaned the spent arrows littering the ground, resetting the field. His shadows retrieved and replenished them, rotating between dummies and gear like a machine. His timing was tighter now: from ten seconds to knock an arrow, down to seven.

Progress.

But as Rey reached for another arrow… his fingers found nothing.

His quiver was empty.

His muscles burned. His hands shook violently.

And still… he wanted to continue.

“Where’s the next arrow…? I’m… not done.”

“Kid. Enough.”

A sudden knock on his forehead snapped him out of the trance. He blinked—and saw Aiden, arms crossed, floating above him.

“Four hours,” Aiden said flatly. “Your arms are about to fall off.”

“I was close to a breakthrough—!”

“Close? You’re close to breaking your bones. Get it together.”

“But—!”

“Look around.”

Rey froze.

The sky was dark.

The sun was long gone.

A cold realisation hit him: he was late.

“Sh*t…! Mom’s gonna kill me.” His voice cracked as panic surged through him.

Aiden smirked, fading into the shadows as Rey bolted to pack up everything, commanding his shadows to clean the area. His legs barely worked from exhaustion, but adrenaline drove him.

Without thinking, he leapt from the factory’s roof—

—and forgot to grab the ledge.

CRASH.

“AAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

The pained scream echoed like a death wail through the abandoned factory district.

Half a kilometer away, civilians flinched, whispers spreading like wildfire.

“The ghost’s active again…”

Meanwhile, Rey lay sprawled on the cold ground, clutching his legs, tears shimmering in his eyes.

“I swear… if my legs are broken… I’m gonna die…”

After checking that his legs weren’t shattered, he shakily stood up, grimacing. His body hurt all over, but he refused to slow down.

He activated Eclipse Shroud, his figure dissolving into the shadows, now even stronger under the cover of night.

He sprinted—or rather limped as fast as his bruised legs allowed—toward home.

‘Please… let me reach before she explodes…’

By the time Rey stumbled into the house, the tension inside was suffocating.

Waiting for him… was his mother.

Jasmine sat silently, her eyes calm but cold. Deadly.

‘...I’m dead.’

She didn’t need to raise her voice.

“I’ll ask once, Rey. Where were you?”

“I… I was just hanging out with friends—”

“James told me you didn’t even message him today.”

“I meant my other friends…”

“You don’t have other friends.”

‘Damn…’ Rey’s heartbeat stuttered.

“I… I just needed fresh air.”

Jasmine’s expression softened—but in a way that felt far worse.

“I see. Secrets, huh?” Her voice was hollow now, her shoulders heavy.

“I thought you were different from other kids, but no...”

“Mom—!”

“You can go upstairs. I don’t want to talk anymore. If I say more, I might say something wrong.”

Rey’s throat closed up.

He couldn’t take this.

“Mom… please. I promise. I swear I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m not in anything bad. Just… trust me, okay? I can’t tell you now… but it’s for our future. For all of us.”

Silence.

Jasmine stood quietly, unmoving.

Then finally, she spoke, voice cold yet shaking:

“I’ll decide whether to believe you or not. But remember one thing, Rey. If I even sense you’re involved in anything dangerous… anything shady… don’t bother calling this house your home again.”

She turned to leave.

“And your dinner’s on the table.”

Click.

The door locked behind her.

Rey stood there, frozen.

‘I’m sorry… Mom…’

But in his heart, he could only repeat the vow he made after facing the Abyss Will:

‘One day… I’ll tell you everything. And on that day… I’ll make you proud.’

Meanwhile, behind the locked door, Jasmine sat in silence.

Her hands trembled.

Her tears fell silently.

“Max… wherever you are now above… please watch over him. He’s too much like you. And this world… It’s not merciful to fools who dream of power.”

In that quiet night, the weight of her buried memories crushed her again.

And outside her door, Rey, exhausted and broken, leaned silently against the wall.

The chains of secrecy grew tighter.

The shadows of power loomed closer.

What awaited them now… would decide everything.

— To Be Continued —

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