Chapter 40: Devour the Core

  The dust struck Pow-Pow without him even remotely noticing. His perception had long since been completely swallowed by the fight, by the frenzy, by the thunder of his own heartbeat, by the resistance of the creature between his paws.

  The fine particles settled silently into his dense fur, slipped between the hairs, seeped through skin and anima, and in the very next moment were already absorbed by him, as if they had never been something separate to begin with.

  As quickly as they reached him, they disappeared into him.

  And for a single, strangely stretched moment, a tense calm settled over the swamp. A silence that did not feel natural, but rather like the stillness before a massive thunderclap.

  Then it took effect.

  Darek did not notice it first through movement, but through the atmosphere. Through that sudden shift, as if the air itself had grown heavier while Pow-Pow was flooded by a rage that far exceeded what he had radiated before.

  A rage that was not merely emotional.

  It was physical.

  Tangible.

  As if it pressed inside him against bone and flesh, trying to violently carve space for itself.

  His massive body tensed.

  The dense red fur bristled as if charged with electricity. His silhouette appeared broader, more compact, more dangerous. And although he barely grew any further—because four meters seemed to be the limit of this form—everything else inside him condensed into something monstrous.

  It was as if the excess fury was not converted into size, but into raw, brutal power.

  Power that made his movements heavier.

  More decisive.

  Final.

  His stance changed noticeably. Not hurriedly, but with the terrifying naturalness of a being that knew exactly that it now stood above its opponent.

  His shoulders lowered slightly.

  His center of gravity shifted.

  His presence pressed into the ground beneath him.

  And Darek understood immediately what Pow-Pow had meant earlier when he said that his combat form adapted to emotion and intensity.

  This was not merely an increase.

  It was a new stage of the same existence.

  It took less than a second before his grip around the beast’s upper and lower jaws tightened so violently that the cracking of bone echoed even through the wet swallowing sounds of the swamp.

  With a smooth, terrifyingly controlled movement, he tore the mouth of the mutated creature apart horizontally.

  Not jerking.

  Not chaotic.

  But with cruel precision.

  This was no desperate act.

  It was a demonstration of superiority.

  The sound was disgusting.

  A dull, ripping crack.

  Followed by a wet rupture.

  And before the echo faded, it sounded again.

  POW.

  The first half slammed into the mud.

  POW.

  The second followed, heavier, deeper, as if the ground itself groaned.

  But Pow-Pow was not finished.

  Even in his rage, he knew that this thing could regenerate.

  So he grabbed the two halves again and began smashing them alternately into the ground before him.

  Right.

  Left.

  Right.

  Left.

  With a force so excessive it seemed almost grotesque, because the strength he used stood in no proportion to the size of the victim, which possessed not even a third of his mass.

  POW.

  Mud sprayed meters through the air.

  POW.

  Bones shattered again, although they had already been torn apart.

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  Right.

  Left.

  With every impact the remains disintegrated further until barely anything remained that resembled the original monster.

  And in the exact moment the jaws had been torn apart, the oppressive pressure that had previously emanated from the beast vanished as well.

  It was as if someone had lifted an invisible weight from their shoulders.

  Darek felt his posture slowly return to normal as he stared at the brutal spectacle before him, equally impressed and disturbed by the sheer violence unfolding in front of him.

  Only Seraphis seemed untouched.

  Not out of indifference.

  But because his attention had long since shifted elsewhere.

  To something Darek only noticed when the torn halves began to twitch again despite everything.

  Small particles started drifting toward one another.

  Slowly.

  Almost invisibly.

  Returning to an unseen center.

  Another half struck the mud, now little more than shapeless mass.

  The next followed.

  Until both were reduced to a state beyond recognition.

  And yet Darek could feel that something was wrong.

  Because the regenerative force had not disappeared completely.

  It lingered like a faint, stubborn flicker in the background.

  Seraphis’ body suddenly seemed strangely empty and yet completely focused.

  As if all his senses were aimed at a single point.

  Meanwhile the particles slowly returned toward their origin.

  Barely visible.

  But unmistakably directed.

  Then he saw it.

  Not Darek.

  Seraphis.

  He had recognized the point that kept repeating.

  The center.

  Without any warning Seraphis shot forward.

  So abruptly.

  So uncompromisingly.

  Only Darek even noticed the movement, because his gaze had not yet been captured by Pow-Pow’s destructive frenzy.

  For a tiny moment it looked as if the silver snake simply broke out of reality itself.

  Sliding behind the massive body.

  Silent.

  Focused.

  Between the two torn, still twitching halves of the monster.

  He pushed off.

  Shot through the air.

  His jaws wide open.

  And in that exact moment Darek felt a strange pull in the atmosphere.

  As if something invisible was trying to escape.

  Trying to reform.

  Trying to pull itself back together.

  Then Seraphis hit resistance.

  No visible body.

  No flesh.

  No bone.

  And yet there was something there.

  Something compact.

  Something dense.

  Something that had not escaped his perception.

  His body jerked slightly.

  As if he had bitten into an invisible wall.

  He landed immediately.

  Twisted.

  Clung almost to the air itself.

  His jaws tightened.

  At first testing.

  Then with growing determination.

  As if he were trying to grind down a transparent stone that refused to break.

  The particles around him began vibrating faster.

  Darek saw it clearly now.

  They were trying to return.

  Back to that point.

  To what Seraphis had grabbed.

  Seraphis bit down harder.

  A quiet, unpleasant grinding filled the air.

  Not loud.

  Not distinct.

  But enough to make the hairs on Darek’s neck rise.

  Only now did the others realize that the focus of the fight had shifted.

  That Pow-Pow’s brutal dominance had suddenly become secondary.

  Because something invisible was being decided here.

  Something far more fundamental.

  Even Pow-Pow paused, breathing heavily.

  His massive form trembling.

  His fur still bristling.

  His gaze narrowed.

  All eyes turned toward Seraphis.

  The air was tense.

  The particles trembled.

  For a terribly long moment nothing happened.

  Then he swallowed.

  Slowly.

  Clearly visible.

  A spherical bulge moved beneath his flowing silver scales, as if a foreign star was traveling through his body.

  Accompanied by a dull, wet sound that seemed unnaturally loud in the silence.

  And in that moment the tension broke.

  The particles lost their hold.

  Their purpose.

  Their direction.

  They fell lifeless to the ground like dead ash.

  At the same time the two shredded halves of the monster lost their last trace of movement and collapsed into a dull, lifeless gray.

  No twitch.

  No pulse.

  Nothing.

  Pow-Pow finally dropped the remains into the mud without visible interest.

  As if he had just realized that the real battle had already been decided.

  “…It’s over,” Iris said quietly.

  There was disbelief in her voice.

  Darek could hardly comprehend it himself as his gaze moved between Seraphis and the motionless remains, his heart still beating too fast because instinctively he felt that something had just happened that went far beyond tearing apart a monster.

  Seraphis twisted slightly, his silver body still tense, and released a sharp, irritated hiss.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Darek asked immediately, his heart still pounding as his gaze jumped between the gray remains and the snake.

  Seraphis raised his head.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “No time,” he hissed shortly.

  The words sounded almost forced.

  “If I had spoken, it would have grown back together again.”

  Darek frowned.

  “What exactly did you swallow?”

  Seraphis’ tongue flicked briefly.

  And Darek understood.

  “So it was the core,” Darek whispered to himself.

  “It kept moving through the same point. Again and again. The center.”

  Darek immediately turned to Iris.

  “A core? What does that mean?”

  Iris was silent for a moment.

  Her gaze remained fixed on Seraphis as if she were examining something she herself could barely believe.

  “That…” she began slowly, “was the core of a soul.”

  Darek stared at her.

  “In a dream?”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” Iris replied quietly, thoughtful, almost disturbed.

  “In a projected dream world something like that should not exist. This monster wasn’t born. It was merely dreamed. It is a projection of the dreamer, not an independent being created by the dream itself.”

  Darek looked back at the lifeless remains in the mud.

  “But it had one.”

  “Apparently,” Iris murmured.

  “The mutation must have changed something. Something that turned a cheap projection into something real.”

  Seraphis’ body tensed slightly.

  “Real enough.”

  Darek was about to ask another question when suddenly a bright light erupted from Seraphis.

  So sudden.

  So intense.

  Darek instinctively squeezed his eyes shut.

  For a single, overstretched heartbeat the snake’s body no longer seemed to consist of flesh and scales.

  Only of pure, pulsing light.

  A cold flash cutting through the mist.

  Even the mud glowed with pale reflections before the light collapsed back into itself just as suddenly.

  When Darek blinked and could see clearly again, Seraphis had clearly grown.

  Almost two meters long.

  Wider.

  More massive.

  His flowing silver scales seemed brighter.

  As if the metal within them now circulated faster.

  More alive.

  More powerful.

  “He evolved again…” Darek murmured in disbelief.

  A deep rumble rolled through the swamp.

  Not loud.

  But heavy.

  A cold pressure wrapped around Darek’s chest like an invisible hand.

  Darek straightened.

  “That’s the same kind of pressure the monster had… just weaker.”

  Iris floated a little higher, her gaze fixed on Seraphis.

  “He’s not using it consciously. That’s just overflow.”

  Darek swallowed.

  “Did he… inherit everything? Tell me exactly what you see.”

  Iris was silent for a moment, concentrating.

  Then she spoke calmly, though tense.

  “Crushing aura. Camouflage. Expanded perception. Mutation.”

  Darek stared at Seraphis.

  “That’s impossible… that’s all of it?”

  “Almost.”

  “What about the regeneration?”

  Iris exhaled audibly.

  “Forget it. Compared to the pillow, it’s hardly worth mentioning.”

  Darek ran a hand through his hair as thoughts raced through his mind.

  “The same soul… of course. That’s why his scales healed so quickly after the fight with Ursula.”

  Pow-Pow snorted quietly.

  His massive body was still trembling slightly while he slowly returned to his original size.

  “Can I go now?” he growled with undisguised arrogance.

  Darek looked up at him.

  “You just tore a monster apart.”

  Pow-Pow crossed his arms again.

  His fur was still slightly bristling.

  “And?”

  The pressure in the air had not completely disappeared.

  Seraphis slowly lifted his head.

  His eyes narrowed.

  His body seemed heavier than before.

  Darek felt it clearly.

  Something had changed.