The Depths of Devouring

Azar sat alone on a craggy outcropping in the mountain range, breathing in the sharp, clean air that filled his lungs with a newfound energy. His gaze was distant as he considered the vast power coiled within him, a result of the arcane gift he had received upon reincarnation: the Law of Devouring. The Law had changed him, both in ways he understood and ways that still eluded him.

Reflecting back on the Deep Sea King battle, he recalled the strength he'd consumed in that fight. The creature's raw power, its unnaturally resilient hide, and the predatory instincts honed through years of dominating the depths of the ocean had melded into him the moment he absorbed its essence. And though his power had surged, his body itself remained unchanged. He was still human. No fins, no gills, no new affinity for water—just the distilled strength of that fallen foe, as if the monster's essence had folded seamlessly into his own.

Experimentally, Azar clenched his fists, testing his grip. The air around him seemed to vibrate, disturbed by the tension of his muscles, dense now with countless absorbed powers. He could almost feel a lingering echo of the Deep Sea King's fury, like a half-remembered dream of conquest.

"Strange," he muttered to himself. "All this strength, and yet it's only in the form of raw energy."

Each victory compounded on the last, creating a foundation that became taller, stronger, more unyielding. Azar's body hadn't transformed outwardly, but within, he knew he had achieved feats impossible for any regular human. His skin had grown tougher; blows that once bruised him now left him unfazed. His muscles regenerated rapidly after strain, and his senses had sharpened beyond anything he'd known in his past life. A slight tremor in the earth nearby, the fluttering of wings overhead—he could feel them all with a near-primal awareness.

He glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers experimentally. "Enhanced physical abilities, sensory powers, regeneration... all these gifts are added to my own strength," he mused aloud. "And yet, it's more than that. The deeper I tap into this, the more it feels… instinctive."

He stood up, stretching his arms to the side, feeling the weight of his power thrumming like a drumbeat in his veins. In a distant memory, he saw the teachings of his past life—a life spent mastering martial techniques and cultivating strength for its own sake. That past life had drilled into him the difference between mastery and brute force, and he had a feeling that same understanding would serve him well in unlocking the true extent of the Law of Devouring.

Closing his eyes, he recalled how each absorbed monster had added layers to his power. He'd begun with basic physical enhancements but had since accumulated a variety of abilities, each one lending him a slight edge. His senses, which had once been honed through training alone, now rivaled those of predatory creatures. His skin, once merely tough, could now resist impacts that would have shattered bones and torn muscles in his old world. And his stamina—while not endless—regenerated with startling speed, giving him endurance that far exceeded any he'd known before.

The Law of Devouring, it seemed, left him with the powers of his foes without altering the essence of what he was. The enhancements came in the form of layered strength, rather than a literal transformation. Even with the Deep Sea King's essence absorbed into him, his affinity for water remained that of any regular human, yet his tolerance for damage had soared. In battle, his human form did not weaken his attacks but channeled the monstrous strength within in a way that felt natural and fluid.

A grin spread across his face. "It's like gaining the best parts of each monster but without the limitations of their forms. I'm not bound by their physiology—I'm only adding their strength to my own."

The realization sparked a new level of ambition in him. If he could keep adding strength without altering his human form, then he could grow indefinitely stronger, never weighed down by the restrictions of his opponents' forms or their weaknesses. The Law of Devouring, as he was starting to understand, was a path to pure power in its most distilled, human form. He didn't need claws or scales; he needed only his own two hands, his fists that now held the weight of countless adversaries' strength within them.

Steeling himself, he lifted a boulder off the ground and hurled it at a nearby peak. The rock sailed through the air, crashing into the mountainside with enough force to trigger a small landslide. The destruction felt like nothing to him now, a small ripple of his strength that held greater depths still waiting to be unleashed.

"This is only the beginning," he whispered, clenching his fist as he watched the rocks tumble down.

With each monster he devoured, each foe he defeated, Azar's ambition grew. The power he now wielded felt like only the first taste of the limitless strength he intended to claim.

*

*

*

In a small, dimly lit room far from Azar's secluded mountain training, an elderly woman sat hunched over her writing desk, furiously scribbling notes on a yellowed sheet of parchment. The room was filled with the smoky incense and cluttered with countless crystal balls, charms, and odd trinkets that seemed almost to pulsate in the flickering candlelight. This woman was none other than Shibabawa, the famous soothsayer of the Hero Association, who had earned renown and respect for her uncannily accurate predictions.

Suddenly, she froze, her usually stoic face twisted into an expression of sheer terror. Her hand shook as she gripped her pen, staring blankly at the paper before her. In her mind, she saw a vision—a great catastrophe that loomed over the earth, a wave of devastation and bloodshed unlike anything she had foreseen before. It was as if a veil had been torn away, revealing a horrific tapestry of chaos and destruction that would soon engulf the world.

"This… this is different," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes darted around, as though the walls themselves bore witness to her revelation. "A new force… something dark…"

Shibabawa picked up her pen again, her hands still trembling as she tried to steady herself. She began to write furiously, desperate to capture every detail of the premonition before it slipped away. Her heart pounded erratically, each beat echoing louder in her ears. As her hand moved across the page, she reached for a cough drop, trying to soothe the dryness in her throat that came with each intense vision.

But just as she popped it into her mouth, she gasped. A sharp intake of breath caught the cough drop in her throat, and she choked, clutching at her neck, eyes wide with shock. Her pen clattered to the ground as her fingers clawed at her throat in vain. Shibabawa's vision blurred, and her mind flooded with images of the catastrophe she had just seen.

As the light faded from her eyes, her last thought lingered on the mysterious figure who would play a role in this impending disaster. Her final prophecy, scrawled hastily onto the parchment in messy, uneven letters, lay on the desk beside her, warning of the looming darkness.

Back in the mountains, Azar felt a sudden shiver down his spine, a momentary chill that left as quickly as it had arrived. He shook it off, unaware of the prophecy written about the forces he would soon come to encounter and shape.