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Novel's Demon

I've died. However, it wasn't the end. Somehow... I woke up once again though not in the world I knew but in a world of a fantasy novel I've read in my first life. Unfortunately, I wasn't reborn as a Main Character, a supporting character or even an Extra... No! I reincarnated as a weak and useless Demon. However, this was not even the worst part... 'Why the fuck am I stuck in the Academy!?'

FriendlyFlame · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
62 Chs

Transplant

The silence that followed the referee's pronouncement was electric. It stretched on for a beat, two, before shattering with the clang of metal on metal.

Clang...

Orion, fueled by his trademark arrogance, launched into an immediate assault. His glaive, a long, curved blade mounted on a staff, whistled through the air, aiming for Eldric's chest.

Eldric didn't meet the attack head-on, though. Instead, he took a swift sidestep, the movement ingrained in him from countless hours of training.

Swish...

The glaive sang past him, the wind from its passage ruffling his hair. Reacting instinctively, Eldric lashed out with his scythe, its wickedly curved blade glinting in the afternoon sun.

The scythe was a weapon that demanded both elegance and brutality. Its long reach allowed Eldric to keep Orion at bay, while the sharp, hooked blade offered a multitude of offensive options.

Their weapons clashed in a shower of sparks, the metallic screech echoing through the coliseum.

"Ughhh..."

Orion, momentarily surprised by Eldric's agility, snarled. He unleashed a flurry of attacks, his glaive a whirlwind of steel.

Each swing was powerful, meant to overpower and dominate. Eldric, however, danced a defensive ballet, his movements precise and economical. He used the reach of his scythe to deflect and parry.

The crowd, initially stunned by the sudden clash, roared back to life. Cheers and jeers filled the air, a cacophony of emotions swirling around the duelists.

Luna, her heart pounding in her chest, watched with a mixture of anxiety and admiration. Her gaze flickered between Eldric's controlled movements and Orion's growing frustration.

Despite his initial aggression, Orion was starting to struggle. Eldric's defensive maneuvers were flawless, his counters calculated and precise.

He wasn't just blocking; he was learning his opponent's rhythm, anticipating his moves. A bead of sweat trickled down Orion's face, his initial smirk replaced by a grimace of exertion.

Eldric, sensing his opponent's fatigue, saw an opening. He parried a downward strike from the glaive, the momentum carrying it past his shoulder.

Before Orion could recover, Eldric spun, his scythe whipping around in a fluid arc. The hooked blade snagged the shaft of the glaive, yanking it out of Orion's grasp.

Clang...

The crowd gasped as the glaive clattered across the dusty arena floor. Orion, momentarily unarmed, stood frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief. A hush fell over the coliseum, broken only by the ragged breaths of the duelists.

Eldric stood poised, his scythe pointed at Orion's chest. He didn't advance, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched, thick with anticipation.

"Yield."

Eldric finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.

Orion, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and humiliation, glared at Eldric. Beads of sweat streamed down his face, his chest heaving with exertion. He seemed to be on the verge of exploding.

A long beat of silence stretched between them, the weight of the crowd's anticipation pressing down. Just when it seemed Orion would accept his defeat, a new emotion flickered across his eyes - desperation.

"No."

He rasped, his voice hoarse.

"This isn't over."

With a sudden surge of energy, Orion lunged forward, his bare hand reaching out towards Eldric. A strange, dark aura crackled around him, emanating from his outstretched palm.

The temperature in the arena seemed to drop, and an unsettling feeling of dread washed over the crowd.

A collective gasp ripped through the coliseum, the roar of the crowd momentarily extinguished by the chilling spectacle before them.

Orion's hand, once strong and calloused, writhed and contorted, its flesh morphing into a grotesque parody of a claw, tipped with obsidian nails that gleamed with an unnatural, malevolent light.

An inky black mist swirled around his arm, tendrils reaching out like grasping fingers towards Eldric.

The scythe slipped from Eldric's grasp as if struck by an unseen force. His eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, the air around him crackling with an unseen energy.

The afternoon sun seemed to dim momentarily, casting long, ominous shadows across the arena floor.

"What the hell is that!?"

Eldric cursed under his breath, as he struggled to regain his balance.

"Do you like it?"

Orion's voice echoed with a sinister satisfaction as he flexed his transformed hand.

His yellow eyes carried a twisted delight.

"This..."

Orion boomed, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

"...Is the culmination of my genius! A gift from a dear friend of my father, shall we say."

He cackled, a harsh, grating sound that scraped against the tense silence.

"A simple little transplant..."

Eldric's brow furrowed. Disgust curdled in his stomach, churning alongside a rising tide of apprehension. The air crackled with a malevolent energy, and the shadows seemed to writhe in response to Orion's manic laughter.

"You see..."

Orion continued, his voice a chilling whisper.

"This little beauty grants me power you can only dream of. Power that will crush you!"

He lunged forward, his transformed hand outstretched, its obsidian claws glinting with a malevolent hunger.

"LET THE REAL FIGHT BEGIN!!!"