Cursed Devourer

The Mercenary Hall was still lively that evening, its walls buzzing with the usual mix of banter, deal-making, and drunken boasts. But Malik paid no attention to the noise as he approached the registration desk, where a middle-aged official in a dull brown robe shuffled through a stack of parchments.

The man barely spared Malik a glance as he pulled out a leather-bound certificate, placing it on the desk with a muted thud.

"Congratulations, Mr. Malik," the official said in a dry tone. "You are now officially registered as a Solo Mercenary."

Malik reached for the document, but the official cleared his throat.

"However," he continued, "your initial ranking has been set at Advanced."

Malik arched an eyebrow, his fingers pausing over the certificate. "And?"

"You won't be able to accept Master-ranked contracts until you complete a sufficient number of missions at your current level." The man finally looked up, adjusting his spectacles. "It's a standard guild regulation. You must prove your competency before taking on higher-tier bounties."

Malik exhaled through his nose. An annoyance, but not an unexpected one.

"They have no idea what you're capable of," Kairo mused. "They're treating you like a normal fighter."

"Doesn't matter. If I need to complete a few missions first, then I'll pick something worthwhile."

With that in mind, Malik turned away from the desk and headed toward the mission board, where countless parchment requests were pinned across its massive wooden frame.

Rows upon rows of missions stretched before him—bandit exterminations, noble escorts, territorial disputes, and beast-hunting contracts.

Most were beneath him.

He skimmed over the lower-tier postings, searching for something that would be worth his time.

Then, his gaze landed on it.

["Wood Troll Extermination—500 Gold Reward."]

A local lord had put up the bounty after several civilians and mercenaries had gone missing in a nearby forest. Witnesses described a massive wood troll, a creature notorious for its enhanced regeneration, ambushing travelers and slaughtering them with brutal efficiency.

Malik's lips curled slightly.

"Regeneration, huh?" Kairo hummed. "You're thinking about absorbing it, aren't you?"

"Obviously." Malik pulled the parchment from the board.

"Not a bad idea," Kairo chuckled. "Wood trolls heal absurdly fast unless you use fire or target the head. If you get that ability, you'll be even harder to kill."

That was the goal.

Without hesitation, Malik walked back to the counter, handing the request to the same official.

The man barely glanced at the paper before stamping it with approval.

"Once completed, return with proof of elimination," he said. "Good luck."

Malik nodded, tucking the parchment into his robe.

With his next mission secured, there was only one thing left to do.

A final farewell.

He found Marithia and her mercenary group seated at their usual spot, their table cluttered with half-finished meals and empty tankards.

Marithia noticed him first, and the moment their eyes met, something shifted.

Her expression—normally calm and confident—was guarded, her posture stiff.

Gone was the teasing smirk she usually wore when speaking to him. Instead, she looked… distant.

Malik slowed his approach, reading her body language instantly.

"She's trying to keep herself composed," Kairo noted.

"Obviously."

Malik stopped by the table, addressing them as a whole. "Figured I'd say goodbye before I left."

Dorian leaned back in his chair, nodding. "You got a job already?"

Malik held up the bounty slip. "Wood troll hunt."

Rollo grunted in approval. "Good choice. Dangerous, though."

Arin, on the other hand, smirked knowingly as she glanced between Malik and Marithia.

But Marithia hadn't spoken yet.

She sat there, fingers tapping lightly against the wooden table, her green eyes fixed on anything but him.

Something was off.

Malik tilted his head slightly, his voice calm. "Something wrong?"

Marithia's lips parted, like she was about to say something dismissive. But then, as if deciding against it, she suddenly stood up.

Before Malik could react, she closed the distance between them in two quick strides, grabbed his robe by the collar, and pulled him into a deep, fiery kiss.

For the first time in a long time, Malik didn't react immediately.

He felt the warmth of her lips, the sheer intensity behind the way she pressed against him.

Her hands clutched tightly at his robe, as if trying to memorize the feel of him before he disappeared.

And Malik—normally the one who teased and tested others—didn't pull away.

Instead, his hands found her waist, holding her firmly as he returned the kiss with measured confidence.

It wasn't rushed.

It wasn't hesitant.

It was a declaration.

By the time she pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, her breathing slightly uneven. But her green eyes burned with certainty.

The Mercenary Hall erupted into noise.

"WHAT?!"

Arin nearly choked on her drink, slamming her hand against the table.

"DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?"

Dorian sighed deeply, rubbing his face. "By the gods…"

Rollo simply grunted in amusement.

Marithia, ignoring the entire room, reached into her belt and pulled out a small silver emblem.

It was engraved with the symbol of the elven royal family—an insignia that was never given lightly.

She pressed it into Malik's hand.

"If you're ever near Althera," she said, her voice softer but firm, "show this, and you'll be treated as a royal guest."

Malik flipped the token over between his fingers, examining its fine engravings. "This is significant, isn't it?"

Marithia exhaled, a small, almost rueful smile touching her lips. "Yeah. It is."

For a long moment, he simply studied her, then tucked the token into his robe with a small smirk.

"I'll keep that in mind."

She nodded, stepping back, her expression composed—but her gaze lingered.

Arin, still recovering, nudged Dorian. "Did you see his face? No hesitation. Just—" She mimicked the kiss dramatically.

Marithia shoved her in embarrassment. "Shut up."

Rollo simply shook his head. "You're both ridiculous."

Malik, amused, turned toward the exit.

Marithia's voice called out to him one last time.

"Try not to die out there."

Malik glanced back over his shoulder, his smirk returning.

"No chance."

Then, without another word, he walked out of the Mercenary Hall, his path clear and his next hunt set.

...

The moment Malik left the outer gates of Vel Ryn, he felt the weight of the city fade behind him. The noise of merchants, mercenaries, and daily life melted away, replaced by the endless stretch of wilderness ahead.

He walked for several miles at a steady pace, keeping his footsteps light as he moved deeper into the dense woodland. His keen perception caught every detail—the shifting leaves in the wind, the distant howl of a mana beast, the rhythmic chirping of unseen insects.

Once he was certain he was alone, he exhaled slowly.

"Walking is a pain," Kairo commented lazily. "You could've flown from the start."

"Too many eyes in the city," Malik responded. "Now's a good time."

Then, with a subtle shift of will, his back rippled.

Two massive black wings, tinted with golden veins, erupted from his back in a flurry of sleek scales and unfurled membranes. They stretched wide, their shadow casting over the forest floor.

With a single mighty flap, he launched himself into the air.

The moment he took flight, Malik felt something strange and exhilarating course through him.

The wind against his skin. The sheer power of lift and speed, the way his wings responded instinctively to the air currents.

Flying wasn't just movement—it was freedom.

"Now this… this is something I could get used to," he thought.

"Took you long enough," Kairo chuckled. "Tell me that doesn't feel amazing."

Malik smirked, adjusting his wings as he soared over the treetops, covering miles in a fraction of the time it would have taken him on foot.

The journey to the wooded hunting grounds took less than an hour. He kept his altitude high enough to avoid detection, but once he neared the marked coordinates, he slowed his descent, scanning the land below.

And that's when he saw it.

A clearing—or what had once been a clearing—was now a scene of slaughter.

The broken remains of a merchant caravan lay scattered across the ground. Splintered wooden carts, overturned crates, and discarded weapons were strewn about in a chaotic mess of destruction.

But the real horror was the corpses.

Bodies—or what was left of them—had been torn apart with terrifying brutality. Some were crushed beyond recognition, others missing limbs, their flesh gnawed clean from bone.

The stench of death and rot clung to the air.

Malik landed near the wreckage, folding his wings behind him as he walked through the carnage. He crouched near a half-eaten body, examining the ragged wounds with clinical detachment.

"Messy eaters," Kairo muttered. "Definitely trolls."

Malik's eyes flicked to the massive footprints leading deeper into the forest. Their gait was uneven, heavy, and their scent—a mixture of damp earth and rotting meat—was easy to follow.

"Looks like they didn't bother hiding their trail," Malik murmured, rising to his feet.

"They don't need to," Kairo replied. "Most creatures wouldn't dare track a troll."

Malik grinned. "Most creatures."

With that, he followed the trail, his pace quick but silent.

The footprints led him through dense woodland, past fallen trees and uprooted bushes, until he arrived at a massive cave entrance hidden between two rocky hills.

The stench of raw decay was stronger here.

Malik narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. He could hear heavy breathing inside, deep guttural noises, the occasional shuffle of movement.

Not one troll.

Three.

"Well," Kairo chuckled dryly. "This just got more interesting."

Malik smirked. "Three times the reward. I'll take it."

He didn't hesitate.

He stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as his muscles coiled with power.

"Let's get this over with."

The moment he entered the cave, the trolls reacted instantly.

The first, a massive brute with bark-like skin, turned with a snarl, its yellowed teeth glistening with gore from its last meal.

The second and third, slightly smaller but just as grotesque, let out deep, guttural roars, their heavy steps shaking the cavern floor.

They didn't hesitate.

They charged.

Malik vanished.

Before their massive hands could reach him, he sidestepped, darting between their hulking bodies with inhuman speed. His first strike was precise—a single devastating punch to the knee of the closest troll.

CRACK.

The limb snapped backward, the troll howling in agony as it collapsed to one side.

But trolls were notoriously durable, and even as it fell, its knee began to mend, the bones shifting back into place.

"Regeneration in real-time," Kairo noted. "You're gonna want that."

Malik grinned.

The second troll swung a tree trunk-sized arm, but Malik ducked, twisting his body in a blur of motion. He drove his elbow into its ribs, sending it stumbling into the cave wall, stone shattering from the force.

The third troll, more cautious, raised its arms defensively, its beady eyes filled with something close to fear.

Malik cracked his neck. "Not fast enough."

Suddenly, Kairo's voice chimed in.

"You know… you could go all out. Full shift. See what you can really do as a dragon."

Malik paused.

Then smirked.

"Why not?"

A deep pulse of energy rippled through Malik's body.

His muscles expanded, his bones shifting as his entire form grew exponentially. His skin darkened to obsidian scales, each one lined with faint golden cracks, shimmering as his body stretched and reshaped.

Massive clawed hands replaced his human fingers. His spine elongated, his tail snapping out like a whip. His head reshaped into a draconic maw, gleaming fangs dripping with energy.

His wings unfurled, stretching so wide they scraped the cave walls.

And then—he roared.

The force of it shook the cave, the very air trembling under the raw power of his presence.

The trolls—who had moments ago been snarling in rage—froze.

Pure terror filled their beady eyes as they realized what they were looking at.

Malik didn't give them a chance to react.

With a single beat of his wings, he rushed forward, his claws tearing into the nearest troll, ripping through flesh and bone like paper, cleaning its head free from its neck.

The second troll tried to flee, but Malik opened his maw, and a torrent of golden fire erupted outward, engulfing the creature in blistering heat. Its howls of agony filled the cavern before it was reduced to charred remains.

The last troll stumbled backward, its regeneration working desperately to mend its wounds.

Malik lunged, his massive jaw snapping down on its head.

Crunch.

Its skull crushed instantly, the regeneration failing as Malik swallowed it whole.

The moment he consumed its flesh, he felt the shift in his own body.

New power. New genetic material. The regeneration ability was now his.

"Oh, you are going to be horrifying when you master this," Kairo laughed.

Malik exhaled, letting his form shrink back to human, his body still pulsing with raw energy.

He glanced at the remains of the trolls, their bodies still smoldering from his flames.

With a smirk, he grabbed their skulls as trophies.

"Time to get paid."