Chapter 13 – Part 1: The Awakening
The battlefield was suffocating.
It wasn't the kind of silence that comes after the storm, but rather one that pressed down on the chest, a suffocating weight, like the very air itself had turned hostile. The land groaned beneath its wounds—blackened, cracked, scarred—as if the earth itself had been torn apart.
Smoke, thick and relentless, curled from every corner, twisting into the ashen sky, where the sun struggled against the choking pallor of clouds. The air was heavy with the stench of blood, iron, and charred flesh, each breath an intrusion. Silence reigned, but it wasn't peaceful. It was the stillness of something waiting for its final moment, the kind that only followed death.
Yet, amid the devastation, the fight still raged on.
At the center of the carnage stood a demon general, gasping for breath. His once-imposing form, encased in jagged armor, was now a broken shell of its former glory. Blood, as dark as night, dripped from the rents in his armor, staining the earth beneath. His crimson eyes—fierce, burning with fury—were fixed on the lone figure remaining amidst the chaos.
Blue.
Unscathed. Unfazed.
He twirled his twin daggers between his fingers with casual precision, his face cold and indifferent—like a man who had long since grown bored of the game. His very presence seemed to twist the air around him, an aura of calm that stood in stark contrast to the surrounding destruction.
The demon's claws clenched, his fangs grinding together in frustration. His breath came in ragged gasps, disbelief barely contained.
How could this be? He, who had crushed entire nations beneath his heel, who had torn through S-Rank warriors like they were mere insects, now found himself staring into the eyes of a man who seemed to toy with him as if he were nothing more than prey.
"You insect…" the demon rasped, his voice venomous, each word dripping with loathing. "Are you mocking me?"
Blue tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly, the faintest curve of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"I'm just giving you time to process reality," Blue replied, his tone devoid of emotion, his voice a quiet lilt in the midst of the chaos. "You never had a chance."
The words struck deeper than any blade.
The demon's body trembled, his pride and his will warring against the gnawing truth that clawed at him.
He had lost.
No. No, he wouldn't accept it.
With a savage roar, the demon unleashed his power. Muscles bulged, bones cracked and reformed with a sickening sound. His skin darkened into something like obsidian—hard, impenetrable. The very air around him warped, bending beneath the weight of his transformation.
Then, like a blur of black steel, he charged.
Ross, an S-Rank hunter, barely had time to react. The shockwave of raw power slammed into him, sending him stumbling to his knees as the earth beneath him cracked and groaned.
But Blue—Blue moved.
No hesitation. No wasted motion.
Gone.
The demon's fist smashed into the earth where Blue had just been, sending a violent explosion of dust and shattered stone into the air. But—
Empty air.
Then came the sharp whistle, a deadly sound cutting through the silence—
SCHLINK.
Blood sprayed.
The demon froze, his mind struggling to comprehend the loss.
His arm—gone. Severed clean at the shoulder. The jagged stump dripped with dark blood.
A moment of stillness before—
Blue stood behind him, daggers slick with the demon's blood.
A slow exhale from Blue, his voice cold as ice, unfeeling. "That's enough."
A final flicker of steel—and the demon crumpled, lifeless, to the ground.
No struggle. No drawn-out battle. It was over before it had even begun.
Ross stood frozen in place, his body a statue of disbelief. The aftermath of the confrontation settled over him, the full weight of it barely comprehensible. This wasn't just the strength, the skill, the raw power that had torn through the battlefield—it was something else. Something deeper.
This wasn't a fight. This wasn't even a battle. This was a glimpse into a realm where the rules didn't apply, where the fabric of reality bent under a power far beyond anything he had ever witnessed.
His chest tightened, the chill of disbelief sweeping over him. He couldn't even find the words to speak.
But Blue's voice broke the silence—cold, distant, like a harsh wind across an empty field.
"No, I'm not," Blue's words were simple, yet they carried the weight of an inevitable truth. As if the answer didn't matter at all.
Ross's mouth went dry. His mind was spiraling—trying to make sense of it all. The world, once solid and predictable, now felt brittle, teetering on the edge of something terrifying.
"You… you're not human," he stammered, the words coming out in a rush, the realization sinking like a stone in his gut.
Blue didn't flinch. Didn't react. He simply flicked his wrist, and the sound of daggers hitting the ground was almost imperceptible—too soft, too casual, too unremarkable given the enormity of what had just transpired.
Blue's face remained unreadable, his expression distant, as if Ross's words meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.
The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Ross could feel the pressure mounting in his chest, his mind swirling, desperate for something to break the tension.
But Blue didn't speak. Didn't move.
Ross's body still ached from the earlier clash, his bruises throbbing with the weight of reality settling in. He was supposed to be S-Rank. Newly promoted. Ready to take on the world.
But standing in the presence of Blue, with his power so casually displayed, Ross felt smaller than he had ever felt.
"I'm Ross," he managed, his voice shaky. "Newly promoted S-Rank Level 1. I… I apologize. I wasn't much help."
Still, Blue didn't respond. His gaze remained distant, his eyes unreadable.
Ross felt the weight of that silence. He had seen it all now. The overwhelming power. The destruction. The terrifying calmness of a being who existed beyond the boundaries of his understanding.
And then, just as he thought he might finally break under the pressure, Blue raised his hand.
A wave of instinctual terror lanced through Ross, freezing him in place. Every fiber of his being screamed to run, to escape, but his body refused to obey.
He had seen Blue's power firsthand—brutality beyond imagination. And now, with that single motion, Ross knew.
He was going to die.
The air around him thickened, pressing down on him with a weight that seemed to crush his lungs. Every breath felt like it might be his last.
His body trembled, paralyzed by fear, and yet… Blue's hand didn't come down in fury. No, instead—
A soft, almost imperceptible glow.
A warmth bloomed from Blue's fingers, spreading through the air, touching Ross's skin. The pain that had racked his body began to fade. His ribs, shattered just moments ago, mended in real-time. His skin, raw and bloody, healed with each passing second.
Ross gasped, his breath hitching in disbelief. His body—broken, bleeding—was being restored by something that shouldn't exist. Something beyond comprehension.
"Ahh… thank you?" The words slipped from his mouth, shaky, uncertain—too overwhelmed to be coherent. He blinked, his mind still struggling to catch up with the impossible reality unfolding before him.
For a long moment, he simply stood there, staring in stunned silence, trying to process what had just happened. He had been certain—certain—that he was moments away from death.
But now? Now, he was alive.
And the weight of that fact crushed down on him. Why? Why had Blue saved him? Was this mercy—or something far darker?
His mind was a battlefield of its own, an internal war waged between disbelief and reality.
Ross's pulse quickened, and before he could gather his thoughts, the air around them shifted again.
Blue's gaze snapped upward, his body tense.
Something was coming.
Ross barely had time to register the change before—
BOOM.