The First Feast

Azar walked down the streets of City Z, taking in the sights of this new world. It was a city much like any other on the surface, but there was a tension in the air—a sense of danger lurking beneath the ordinary. People hurried by with wary glances, as though something could emerge from the shadows at any moment. The city felt like it was on edge, and Azar's curiosity was piqued.

It didn't take long for him to discover why.

A shriek tore through the air, followed by the panicked sounds of people running. Azar's eyes darted toward the commotion just in time to see a monstrous creature barrel into view—a beast with grotesque limbs, mismatched eyes, and skin that looked as though it had been stitched together from various animals. A small gang of lesser monsters skittered and hissed behind it, delighting in the terror they caused as they chased after helpless civilians.

The lead creature—a creature that resembled a hybrid between a boar and a lizard—let out a roar, its fangs dripping with saliva as it set its eyes on a woman who had tripped in her panic.

Azar sighed, rolling his shoulders as he watched the scene unfold. He had no interest in heroics, and these civilians weren't his responsibility. But his gaze lingered on the monsters, his curiosity piqued by the strange beings. He could feel the Law of Devouring stirring within him, hungry for new fuel.

He reached for his sword, unsheathing it with a fluid motion that made the blade sing. "Guess it's time to test the limits of this power."

Azar stepped forward, his calm stride belying the intensity in his eyes. The monstrous boar-lizard noticed him, its attention diverting from the terrified woman. It let out a guttural snarl, stamping its hooved feet as it prepared to charge at this new threat. Azar met its gaze, smirking as he felt the thrill of anticipation.

The monster lunged, its jaws snapping open wide to tear him apart. Azar moved like a shadow, sidestepping the beast's charge with practiced ease and bringing his sword down in a single, decisive stroke. The blade sliced cleanly through the monster's thick hide, and it fell to the ground with a final, wet thud.

As the life faded from its eyes, Azar placed a hand on its body, activating the Law of Devouring. A rush of energy surged into him, the monster's essence seeping into his veins like liquid fire. He felt a faint echo of its primal instincts, the wild fury and brute strength that had once fueled its existence.

Azar's senses sharpened, his body tingling with newfound power. His grip on his sword tightened, and he let out a low chuckle. So this is what it feels like, he thought, savoring the thrill. The monster's strength, though not extraordinary, was satisfying. He felt faster, stronger, as if his muscles had been reinforced with a primal ferocity.

A group of smaller monsters chittered nervously nearby, watching him with a mixture of fear and aggression. Azar met their gaze, his smirk widening. "I suppose you'll do too."

The remaining monsters didn't stand a chance. Azar moved through them with ease, dispatching each one with calculated strikes. Each time he felled one, he placed his hand on their lifeless forms, drawing in their essence. The thrill of devouring surged through him again and again, each kill adding to his strength, sharpening his reflexes, and fortifying his instincts.

By the time the last monster had fallen, Azar felt a distinct change within himself. His body was thrumming with energy, a potent mix of all the creatures he'd devoured. He clenched his fists, marveling at the newfound power surging within him. His senses were sharper, and he could feel his body's increased durability—a gift from one of the monsters with a tough hide.

This ability is efficient, he thought, a grin spreading across his face. He could feel traces of the monsters' memories and instincts swirling within him. Though they were mostly primal and fragmented, he could sense their innate knowledge of survival and combat adding to his own.

Azar glanced around, seeing the terrified civilians who had been watching the fight. They stared at him with a mix of awe and fear, whispering among themselves.

"Is he… a hero?" one of them asked, uncertain.

Azar let out a snort of amusement. A hero? The idea was almost laughable. He hadn't saved these people out of any moral obligation; they had simply been in the right place at the right time for him to experiment. He gave the civilians a dismissive look, shrugging off their gawking stares.

"Don't mistake me for someone who cares," he said, his tone cold. "I'm just here for the monsters."

The civilians exchanged confused glances, unsure whether to thank him or flee. Azar paid them no mind, already turning his attention back to his power.

As he walked away from the scene, he reveled in the afterglow of the battle. The Law of Devouring was more powerful than he'd anticipated, and it opened doors to an endless well of potential. If these weak monsters could give him this much, what would stronger opponents offer?

Azar's mind drifted to the words he'd gleaned from the thug he'd devoured earlier—heroes, monsters, ranks. It seemed this world operated on a system that valued strength, with both heroes and monsters vying for dominance. A system he intended to exploit.

"Looks like I've found a quick route to power," he muttered to himself, smirking as he continued down the street. His purpose was clear now. He didn't care about titles, or reputations, or the fragile concepts of good and evil. He would fight, devour, and grow stronger, using this world's chaos to fuel his own ascent.

As he disappeared into the winding streets of City Z, Azar's mind buzzed with thoughts of future battles and stronger prey. His ambition was boundless, and with the Law of Devouring, he had the perfect weapon to carve his path.