Cursed Devourer

Darkness swallowed the room, thick and suffocating, pressing against the walls like an entity unto itself.

The soldiers hesitated, their once-confident expressions twisting into fear. They all shared the same thought.

Something had changed. A terrifying entity was being born.

Even the leader lost his grip on Malik, his cocky demeanour switching to one of focus as soon as he felt the shift in the air. His instincts screaming at him, begging him to flee as far as possible. But he refused it, he didn't believe that he would be scared by this commoner. He couldn't believe it.

Malik was suspended mid air, his body trembling as if he was being restrained by an invisible force, his eyes sealed shut. All the light left in the room seemed to emit from a golden glow in his chest, the rest was akin to the void.

Raw, seething rage flooded his veins.

Orlan was gone.

The one person in this world who had given him guidance, who had believed in him, had been executed like a disease-ridden cattle. And the man responsible? He stood there smirking while he did it, only now he realised the danger did his face change. But there would be no forgiveness.

'I will stain this world with blood. I will turn this planet into a graveyard. I swear this on my soul. No one... No one will escape my wrath!' Malik screamed internally and his eyes abruptly shot open, his pupils radiating a golden light so pure and bright it looked as if a god had descended.

The system pulsed in his mind, no longer a whisper or guide but a commanding presence.

['You have been wronged. Your kin slaughtered. You are alone.']

['Take what is rightfully yours. Embrace the ascension. Unleash the divine artifact.']

Malik didn't resist.

Under the eyes of the terrified soldiers, his arm moved, arching back and plunging into his own chest, grasping at the golden light, the power that had been dormant since the completion of the Second Quest.

The Divine Artifact thrummed with power.

His hand gripped the orb shaped energy, crushing it within his fist.

And then it happened.

'CRACK'

A loud cracking noise pulsed from Malik. The noise travelled across the surface of the planet to be heard by all of its inhabitants.

The air shattered.

Space seemed to tear, only to be stabilised a moment later. A match of tug-of-war, desperately trying to keep reality stable.

Once the pressure grew beyond containment, it exploded. A wave of golden energy erupted from his body, vaporizing multiple soldiers that stood too close, sending the more durable flying like ragdolls, their armour snapping under the sheer force of the blast. The walls of the library cracked, ancient bookshelves splintering from the pressure, paper setting ablaze from the scorching heat being emitted. The leader's face twisted, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Impossible! How- how?" He roared, his voice cracking with fear.

'Why does it feel like I'm facing Leo and Katya? He's just a child!' The leader, otherwise known as Carthus, couldn't help but compare the entity before him to two of the strongest ability users hidden within the Royal palace.

In the centre, Malik was left standing. The golden light left his body in fragments, emerging with an aura that demanded reverence.

The Divine Artifact.

Malik's body was enveloped by the fragmented light, a cascade of ethereal energy coiling around him like a snake, shaping itself into armour that hugged his thin frame.

Black as the void, yet pulsing with golden veins of molten power, the suit breathed as if alive, fire licking across its surface in an ever-burning inferno. The helmet formed last, its sleek, faceless visage concealing Malik's last identifying aspect of humanity, save for the searing golden eyes that now burned like orbs in an otherwise black hole.

And in his hand-

A blade.

Forged in the heart of a dying star, infused with the divine wrath of the forgotten gods, a masterfully constructed weapon at the whims of the system. It sang as it manifested in Malik's grasp. The runes etched into its surface pulsed with raw energy, similar to that of the molten veins coursing throughout his armour. The length between that of a regular straight sword and a claymore, yet it's weight perfected to be wielded in one hand.

Malik appearance made him look like the ascension had already been completed.

But it hadn't even begun.

Rage and despair still ate away at Malik, but an indescribable comfort seemed to level him, keeping him rational.

'System, show me my status.' He commanded, no longer passive in his tone. He was on cloud nine, feeling like a king that could move armies with a single word.

-------------------------------------

Name: Malik Thana

Age: 19

Race: Human(Devourer)

Level: 0

Stats = (Temporary Boosts for the Duration of the Third Quest)

Vitality - 5(+1000)

Strength - 3(+1000)

Agility - 5(+1000)

Endurance - 4(+1000)

Intelligence - 15(+1000)

Mana - 0(+1000)

Perception - 0(+1000)

Charm - 1(+1000)

Soul - 0(4/9.83B)

-------------------------------------

[Third Quest: 'Cost of Ascension']

[You have accepted the challenge. Power is now yours to wield, lingering at your fingertips. With the Divine Artifact you have been boosted far beyond mortal limits. Your mission is to Devour. Feed the System with the souls of your victims. There are currently 9.83 Billion souls across this planet and they are waiting to be harvested. The more you claim, the better rewards you reap.]

[6 Days 23 Hours and 55 Minutes remaining]

[Upon Failure: True Death]

[Good luck.]

-------------------------------------

'True Death.' He murmured.

Now there was no turning back. 

'Close window.' He ordered, shifting his gaze to the armoured men still breathing after the explosion.

They immediately felt a predatory pair of eyes stare at them. Some soiled their pants, others threw up, but commonly they all understood one key thing.

They were fucked.

"You- what are you?" Carthus stammered, his legs shaking uncontrollably and a cold sweat dripping down his back.

Malik lifted the sword. The flames along its edge roared in response. 

"I'm the monster that you created," At his words the sword buzzed as the flames grew more fierce, answering to the anger bubbling inside Malik. "And now... I will do what a monster does." He declared, his voice like a thunderclap.

And then he moved.

Faster than thought. Faster than sight.

All the soldiers saw was a flicker of gold before he appeared in front of the nearest soldier. His blade carved through the man's chest plate like it was paper, molten gold heat searing through flesh and bone with a horrific tear. The soldier barely had time to scream before his body erupted into golden embers, consumed by the divine fire that greedily ate his soul and left nothing but pile of ashes.

[Souls: 5/9.83B]

There was no alert, no voice, just a counter that hung in his peripheral.

"Attack!" Carthus screamed to the frozen soldiers, desperate to rally them in the hopes of surviving this fight.

Carthus' order woke the terrified soldiers out of their stupor. They knew death awaited them, but they would be damned if they didn't go down without a fight.

The first soldier lunged at him. Malik didn't dodge- he didn't need to. The blade scraped against his armour, but instead of steel, it met flames. The blade melted as if it were made of butter and the golden fire surged forward, engulfing the attacker in a brilliant inferno. His screams lasted mere seconds before he was reduced to nothing but ash.

Carthus continued to bark orders, but it was useless.

Malik was no longer bound by mortal constraints. He was now an unstoppable force.

He lifted his free hand, and the very air bent to his will. Spears of pure golden energy burst from the ground, impaling three soldiers in an instant. Their bodies burned to ash, their souls absorbed into the divine fire that now fed him. Each soul like a drop in the ocean, barely noticeable but the volume of power increasing all the same.

More orders. More desperate attacks came. None of it mattered.

Malik was untouchable.

He turned to Carthus, the only one left standing, the man who had plunged the sword, who had mocked him as he was forced to watch Orlan die.

The golden light around Malik intensified.

"Looking at how things turned out, I owe you thanks. Your actions gave me the drive that I needed," Behind the faceless visage, Malik grinned maliciously. "Run." His voice was inhuman, layered with something ancient, something demonic.

Carthus didn't hesitate, he turned and bolted, screaming in terror as he pushed himself to the limit. 

Just as he reached the entrance of the library, he felt something hot on his leg. Looking down he saw that all that remained was a bloody stump, cauterised by the searing flame.

"Aghhhh!" He bellowed in agony, holding himself against the wall so to not fall, but it didn't matter.

Soon the next cut came, taking his other leg, breaking his balance as he face planted the wooden floor, splinters digging into his eyes and blinding him. Then each arm dropped. And finally a spike erupted from the ground and pierced his throat, pulsing a wave of flames down his gullet and straight into his internal organs that seemed to burn much slower than before, making sure that he suffered every last second of his miserable life.

Malik felt a slight hint of relief knowing that the man suffered till the end, but his attention turned to something more important.

He took slow, jaded steps towards Orlan's lifeless body, untouched by the previous slaughter and explosions of power, something that Malik had done subconsciously.

He kneeled beside the old man, the gauntlet crawling up his arm and allowing his bare hand to emerge. The golden flames that had consumed his enemies flickered lower, gentler, as if mourning with Malik.

'So this is what the system meant by 'symbiotic.'' He was surprised by its ability to show emotion, even if it was simply reflecting his own.

"I'm sorry," Malik whispered, fighting the urge to cry with all his might. But he couldn't stop the flood gates from leaking. Golden veins streaked down the black visage, burning themselves into the armour and becoming permanent features, almost like a reminder of the sorrow he and the armour shared in this moment.

Using his naked hand, he closed Orlan's lifeless eyes, and took one last look at the corpse of his 'father'.

Without another word, he stood and walked out of the ruins of the Grand Library.

The city of Lochma.

No, the planet was about to witness the birth of a calamity.

[Souls= 12/9.83B]