For a brief moment, the monster paused.
Its enormous, grotesque form loomed over Belial, its five gleaming eyes locked onto him, jagged fangs bared, ready to tear into his flesh.
But it didn't strike.
Instead, it jerked backward.
Not by its own will.
It was being dragged.
Belial blinked through the haze of exhaustion, barely registering what was happening. The creature's tail was taut, its movements restricted, like something was pulling it against its own instincts.
Then he saw it. Rather Him.
Raven.
The armored warrior stood behind the beast, his obsidian-black armor incandescent, the veins of ether pulsing beneath the darkened plates. His gauntleted hands were clamped around the monster's barbed tail, muscles straining as he pulled with every ounce of strength he had.
The monster twisted, letting out an ear-splitting screech, trying to thrash free, but Raven held fast, boots digging into the cracked earth, refusing to let go. His armor groaned under the pressure, the metal plating screaming against the strain, but he did not falter.
Belial wasn't going to waste this chance.
With a grunt, he forced himself to roll to the side, gripping his sword tightly. His body ached, exhaustion weighing on him, but he ignored it. He planted his feet and surged forward, ether flooding into his limbs, sharpening his focus.
The creature, distracted by Raven, barely reacted as Belial drove his blade upward, piercing through the thick muscles of its neck.
A grotesque, wet crunch filled the air as the sword slid through flesh, tendon, and bone, tearing straight through the creature's brainstem.
Its body convulsed, a violent, jerking shudder wracking its form as the life drained from its many eyes. The tension in its tail slackened, and Raven, with a final pull, sent the now-lifeless bulk crashing to the ground.
Belial exhaled, his grip loosening on the hilt of his blade. He let himself fall back onto the cold ground, arms sprawled beside him. He wasn't gasping for air—his stamina wasn't completely spent—but gods, he was tired.
He stared up at the night sky, the adrenaline slowly bleeding from his system.
Then, in a quiet mutter, he exhaled:
Gods, I really miss my Hax.
Luckily this guy was a runt of the litter, The game put this guy out here as a trial. A prelude to the real horrors ahead.
Xin's gaze sharpened as he worked, his hands hovering over Belial's wound, golden ether weaving through the air like threads of silk. He could see the missing piece of ether in Belial's body, the small fragment that had been torn away during the battle. Carefully, methodically, he reconstructed the ether particles, filling in the void where they had been lost.
But as he concentrated, something strange caught his eye.
Right next to Belial, the dead Mirror Monster lay motionless, its grotesque form still radiating an eerie presence. From its wounds, ether seeped out—not dissipating immediately like he would have expected, but rather lingering in the air, shifting between forms. Some of it was dark, corrupted, writhing like living smoke, while other strands were pure, untouched, and oddly familiar.
Xin narrowed his eyes.
The moment the ether reached the open air, it changed—no, it vanished.
It was as if the very world itself rejected it, dissolving it into nothingness. But for that brief moment before it disappeared, Xin could see it, feel it.
The energy wasn't just dispersing. It was being lost.
Stopping his healing on Belial for a moment, Xin turned his full attention to the dying ether. He crouched down, reaching out a hand, curiosity burning within him.
The instant his fingers brushed against the ethereal strands, he felt it.
A pull—a deep, unnatural tugging sensation that surged into him, as if the energy was being absorbed into his very being.
Then came the pain.
A sharp, stabbing agony spread through his chest, racing through his limbs, curling into his bones. Xin gritted his teeth, his body instinctively recoiling, but he forced himself to remain still. He focused, shifting his vision, watching as the corrupted ether intertwined with his own.
It wasn't just being absorbed—it was merging with him.
No—it's poisoning me.
He clenched his fists, his mind racing. Then an idea struck him.
Ether was not a simple force—it was a flow, a matrix, a system of energy. What if… what if he could change it?
Holding his breath, Xin concentrated. He reached inward, tapping into the instincts he had honed through his connection with the Dharma Wheel.
The corrupted ether trembled.
Then, with deliberate care, he began reconstructing it.
Piece by piece, he purified the energy, reshaping it into something usable, something clean.
And it worked.
Xin's eyes widened.
The pain vanished. The once-tainted ether now felt natural, familiar—it was no longer harming him. Instead, it was empowering him.
He exhaled, stunned.
Quickly, he turned to Belial. "Belial, get over here. You need to try this."
Belial, still catching his breath from the fight, gave him a skeptical look. "What now?"
"Just trust me." Xin motioned for him to sit.
With a reluctant sigh, Belial knelt down beside the corpse. Xin placed a steadying hand on his back.
"Alright," Xin instructed. "Close your eyes. Circulate your ether like you normally do, but take a deep breath—slow, controlled."
Belial frowned but complied. He let his ether flow, his breath deepening.
Xin adjusted his position, placing his other hand behind Belial's shoulder. "Now, focus it into your eyes."
Belial's brow furrowed. "My eyes?"
"Yeah. It's a trick I've been using with the Dharma Wheel. Just try it."
He grumbled something under his breath but followed Xin's instructions.
The moment he did, a shift occurred.
His vision expanded.
At first, it was overwhelming—strange currents of energy moved around him, the world no longer just solid matter, but pulsing waves of ether. His eyes burned slightly from the strain, but he saw it.
The dying ether escaping from the monster.
It was pouring out like a river, colors shifting between pure white and deep crimson, a mesmerizing dance of energy.
"You see it now, right?" Xin said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
Belial nodded slowly. "…Yeah."
"Good. Now reach out. Hold it, just like I did."
Belial hesitated but extended his hand.
The moment he grasped the ether, a shockwave of energy blasted through him.
A torrent of power surged into his body, wild and untamed. His muscles tensed, his breath caught in his throat.
Pain.
A deep, searing pain.
The corrupted ether latched onto his system like a parasite, burning through his veins. His entire body rebelled, his chest tightening with an unnatural pressure.
Belial gritted his teeth, but before the damage could take hold, Xin acted.
His hands lit up with golden energy as he channeled healing ether into Belial's core, stabilizing the reaction.
The pain eased. The corruption faded.
And then, Belial's eyes widened.
The energy remained.
Not as something foreign. Not as something harmful.
But as something usable.
Belial took a slow, measured breath, feeling the ether settle within him, strengthening him rather than breaking him apart. His fingers twitched, testing the newfound surge of power coursing through his limbs.
And then it clicked.
His conversation with Cassidy—one he had nearly forgotten—came rushing back to him.
She had told him there were ways to increase one's strength. Some were simple—training, experience, controlled ether enhancement.
But was it the most effective method?
No.
It was also the most time-consuming.
Natural ether growth took years. Decades, even for a demon like him. It was a slow process, a gradual refinement of one's energy through constant exertion and discipline.
But now…
Now, he had found a shortcut.
By absorbing and purifying the ether left behind by fallen creatures, he could accelerate his growth at an unprecedented rate.
He glanced at Xin, his violet eyes burning with realization.
"This…" Belial muttered, flexing his fingers, feeling the ether settle into his body. "This changes everything."
Xin smirked, the glow of the Dharma Wheel reflecting in his sharp gaze. "Yeah. I thought you'd say that."
For a long moment, Belial simply sat there, absorbing the implications.
They had stumbled upon something far greater than just a battle technique.
This was evolution.
A means of survival in this cursed land.
A path to power.