I Awakened A Divine Curse

Auren couldn't quite pinpoint what spooked the creature. Its low growl twisted in the air—half taunt, half warning—giving off an impression of subtle intelligence.

Yet after watching it longer, he concluded it was more instinct than intellect. No real intelligence, just a pattern.

And that was why Auren spotted that pattern so quickly.

He folded his arms as Meredith and Jasper skidded back, their boots scraping against the ground as they steadied themselves.

Meredith spun her spear and slashed downward, her eyes blazing with cold violet fire.

She flicked a quick glance at Auren, who waved casually and smiled.

"Hi."

A dark grimace clouded her face instantly, but she held her tongue. With another swift twirl of her spear, she lunged toward the creature. Five limbs whipped through the air to block her path.

Jasper suddenly emerged from behind her, weaving his saber with careful precision, his blue eyes glowing with fierce concentration as he fought to maintain his course.

His movements and gaze revealed plainly that Jasper was no natural fighter, which made it impossible to ignore the mountain of effort he poured into each action.

Every strike and sharp twist, the way he orbited around Meredith like a protective moon—though his face betrayed his strain—told the story of what nightmarish battles they'd survived together, forging this seamless partnership.

Jasper's fighting style spoke more of hard-won lessons than inborn talent, rawness rather than the brutality and flash that combat styles typically showcase.

Auren watched with fascination. The spoiled brat intrigued him deeply—like he had vanished for a night and returned reborn.

Meredith too had changed, though in ways harder to define. He never expected her to reveal so much through expression alone.

Perhaps she'd always been this way, or maybe recent events had forced her hand and now she was settling into this new skin.

Either way, observing their growth filled him with quiet satisfaction. He glanced at the Withering Fate and dismissed it with casual indifference.

In its place, two daggers materialized in his hands, darkness solidifying into form. These were familiar—the same enormous blades that had resembled curved swords during his battle with the Polypheme.

The daggers boasted elegant, sweeping curves that pleased both eye and grip. A curious transformation had overtaken all weapons from the Home of Rage since the strange Citadel had been devoured by Devourer.

These weapons now answered his call willingly, feeling less like tools and more like extensions of his very soul. Each could inflict devastating damage, depending on which he chose to wield.

Various swords dwelled there too—he could summon only those he remembered, though Auren suspected he might discover them all if he could journey into his soul... or somehow enter Devourer itself.

That possibility would likely remain closed until he completed this trial and ascended to Devout status.

Which circled him back to that whisper of dread. What if death awaited him rather than becoming a Devout?

'...Right now, all that matters is killing that thing.'

Auren had gleaned much from his clash with the Polypheme. The Sentinel's swordsmanship had revealed to him a glimpse of its true, beautiful essence. Though the insight was modest—a mere fragment—it towered above his family's rudimentary skills he had acquired as a child.

This battle style, anchored in the world's primal nature, was destined to stand apart.

Now the burden fell to Auren to polish this precious fragment, blending it with his own approach to forge something more... worthy.

Such an ambitious evolution couldn't be accomplished in this battle alone—not in two battles, nor even ten.

Auren centered himself, twirling the daggers around both hands as he stepped deliberately forward.

Though his advance appeared casual, almost reckless in its unhurried pace, this deception masked his true intent.

His gaze meticulously tracked both companions while his metal armor—sleek and sinisterly elegant—leaked an ominous crimson aura that drained the vibrancy from everything nearby, casting the world in subtle shadow.

Auren's crimson eyes smoldered with bloodlust, black sparks dancing around them like dark fireflies. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, the boy vanished.

Auren catapulted through the air, his body a spinning blur before he crashed down with a circle-back strike that shook the entire hall with thunderous force.

Meredith and Jasper were hurled backward by the shockwave, fortunate that its devastating power hadn't been aimed their way.

The recklessness of his move was breathtaking—Auren had hurled himself straight into the heart of a Cursed Creature as if his life meant nothing at all.

As dust and debris settled, Meredith's eyes narrowed to slits.

Ten massive hands pressed down on Auren, straining to drive him to his knees. Yet his eyes blazed with savage defiance as he pushed back against their crushing weight.

He thrust one arm downward, spun the dagger in a fluid arc, then slashed upward to shred through one monstrous hand. In the same breath, he twirled the second dagger mid-flight and buried its razor edge deep into another dark appendage.

Driving the blade deeper still, he executed a vicious twist and ripped the dagger through corrupted flesh, unleashing a fountain of black blood.

His movements defied reason—too swift for someone of his level, impossibly fast for a mere Nascent—leaving even Meredith unable to conceal her astonishment.

A delicate scowl creased her brow as her lips parted in silent surprise. Beside her, Jasper stared transfixed, his eyes aglow with reverence like twin stars in the darkness.

Oblivious to their stares, Auren's hands never slowed—they danced through the air, weaving impossibly complex patterns as his daggers carved through the abomination's flesh with surgical precision.

His movements blurred into a hypnotic web, his hands seeming to intersect and pass through one another in defiance of natural laws. Each slash painted the air with grotesque arcs of black blood, heightening the scene's nightmarish quality.

Viscous darkness splashed across his face, yet he never flinched, never blinked. The creature's lonely shrieks and desperate attempts to overwhelm him proved futile.

Though it lacked monstrous teeth to tear him apart, the abomination possessed something far worse.

Sensing Auren would not yield, the creature froze for one terrible moment.

Auren's eyes widened with sudden understanding. In an instant, the helm of his armor snapped shut over his face.

The creature's hidden mouth tore open with an unholy sound—a scream that rippled through the entire hall. The shockwave pulverized every fragile structure in the hall, sending fractures racing through solid stone walls. Wooden beams disintegrated into deadly splinters.

Meredith and Jasper stumbled backward, faces contorted in agony as the inhuman frequency threatened to shatter their eardrums from within.