Chapter 194 - The Message

Verc started circulating his mana at night, as soon as he drank the remaining blood from Morcant’s body.

He was in deep, excruciating pain for hours non-stop.

The small room he had constructed for himself at the back of the facility was completely silent, isolated from the rest of the surviving villagers and his subordinates.

But inside Verc’s body, a chaotic, destructive storm was raging without mercy. The raw, unrefined essence of the thirteenth demon king thrashed through his internal pathways like a wild beast trying to burst out of its cage.

But not even once did he scream. He made sure none of his people would hear or see him be weak, especially not in the situation that they were currently in.

The settlement was already broken. His people were wounded, terrified, and undergoing painful vampiric transformations of their own. They needed an absolute ruler—a leader who was unbreakable and invincible. If he were to let out a single cry of agony now, it would shatter the fragile sense of security he had just restored.

’FUCK...! GAAAARGH!!!’

Verc felt like dying multiple times. He loses consciousness now and then because of the pain, his mind blacking out for short seconds before the burning inferno in his core violently dragged him back into reality.

But still, he held on. He clung onto life and controlled the wilding essence inside him forcefully.

’STOP FUCKING WILDING...!’

Every time the chaotic mana tore through his blood vessels, he used his absolute willpower to force it back into alignment. He squeezed every drop of focus he had left to compress the volatile energy, dragging it toward his magic core to digest it piece by piece. If he wanted to be stronger, and faster at that—then there was no way that it was going to be easy.

’THIS PAIN IS A SMALL PRICE TO PAY...!’

Verc thought to himself, his mind focusing on the faces of his fallen people, on the ruined houses, and on the bloody stakes that had pinned his generals to the ground.

He was well aware that power gained through shortcutting limits always demanded a steep cost. To leap past the power ceiling of a fledgling and absorb the life force of a demon king in a single night required his body to be broken down and remade from scratch.

’If I can’t even survive this... I have no right to stand at the top.’

He continued to push through, forcing his mana circulation to accelerate even as his flesh screamed in protest.

But then, during the highest peak where he can feel the most pain, Verc bit his lower lip tighter and clenched his hands harder.

The burning sensation in his core spiked to an unbearable level, feeling as though a sun had detonated inside his chest. The wild energy surged upward, expanding his blood vessels to their absolute limit.

PSSSHK—POP!

He clenched so hard that the bones and joints on his hands and fingers popped and dislocated... His fingers drove inside his palm as well, making it bleed as his sharp nails pierced deep into his flesh.

His teeth and fangs were through his lips now, locking his jaw shut in a gruesome vice grip to trap any sound inside his throat.

"GRRRGH...!!!"

A muffled, wet growl was all that escaped his closed mouth.

But Verc couldn’t even feel those injuries through the excruciating pain he was going through. The pain of broken bones and torn palms was completely drowned out by the internal destruction happening within his soul and core. His eyes felt like they were going to pop from the intense internal pressure, so he closed them tight, his eyelids trembling violently.

He can feel all parts of his body throbbing, and each time they do—he feels like dying.

His heart hammered against his ribs like a frantic war drum, beating at an unnatural speed. Every throb sent a wave of agonizing heat through his brain, blinding his vision with pure crimson light.

Though even with all of that... He made sure to swallow his screams.

He forced his throat to stay locked, refusing to yield to the agony. He held his posture cross-legged on the cold floor, maintaining the circulation loop no matter how much his body wanted to collapse and surrender to the pain.

And then, all of a sudden—

S P L A S H!!!

Blood exploded outside his body!

The immense internal pressure finally reached a breaking point that his physical vessel could no longer contain.

His eyes, nose, ears, and mouth... A huge amount of blood burst out of them all over the place!

It was like someone put a firecracker in red paint, coloring the whole room red!

Dark, thick streams of blood sprayed violently across the smooth stone walls, splattering against the ceiling and painting the entire floor in a deep, iron-smelling crimson layer.

And even after that, blood continuously gushed out from Verc, like they were all spilling and trying to find an exit!

The excess, unrefined waste of the demon king’s essence was being violently purged from his pores and natural orifices, carrying away his ruined, burnt tissues along with it. His pale skin turned an unnatural, deathly gray as his vitality rapidly drained out onto the floor.

His posture finally broke.

THUD!

And in that moment... Verc finally collapsed to the ground.

His head struck the blood-soaked stone floor with a heavy, lifeless sound. The dark red aura surrounding his body completely vanished, dissolving into nothingness.

He lost consciousness... And he was not breathing at all.

His chest remained completely still, his pulse entirely absent as he lay motionless in the center of the bloody room, surrounded by the withered, dried-up remains of the thirteenth demon king.

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*****

The next morning...

The sun rose over the eastern horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the outer borders of the Cursed Forest.

Miles away from the quiet, ruined village of Verc and his people, a long commercial dirt road stretched across the rolling hills, connecting the regional trade hub to the City of Sionnan. The morning fog was still thick over the grass, making the air crisp and cold.

A wealthy merchant caravan was peacefully traveling along the established dirt path. Four large, heavy wooden wagons loaded with iron goods, fine fabrics, and imported spices rolled slowly over the stone-paved trail.

Surrounding the wagons were nearly twenty heavily armed mercenaries hired from the City of Sionnan. The mercenaries walked with relaxed postures, some resting their hands on the hilts of their swords while others chatted quietly to pass the time during the routine escort mission.

"Hey, keep the pace steady! We need to reach the gates of Sionnan before noon if we want to get a good spot in the outer market!"

The fat merchant leading the caravan shouted from his seat at the front wagon, pulling on the reins of his horses.

"Relax, boss."

The mercenary captain replied with a casual laugh, leaning a long spear against his shoulder.

"This path has been completely quiet for months. The local monster tribes rarely come out this far near the human border. Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

The caravan continued moving forward, rounding a wide bend in the road where the dirt path met the edge of a small rocky hill.

"Whoa... STOP!"

The scout riding a horse at the very front of the line suddenly pulled his reins back, forcing his horse to halt so abruptly that it let out a loud neigh.

"What is it? Why are we stopping?"

The merchant complained, poking his head out from under his wagon canopy.

"Umm... Captain... look up there."

The scout whispered, his voice trembling slightly as he pointed a shaking finger toward the center of the crossroads ahead.

The mercenary captain frowned, stepping past the lead horse to see what was blocking the path.

"What’s the big deal? Is it a fallen tree or—"

The captain froze mid-sentence, his eyes widening in absolute horror.

Standing right in the middle of the main trade route was a massive, crude wooden stake that had been driven deep into the earth.

And impaled at the very top of the wooden stake... was a gigantic, horrifying beastly head.

The head was larger than a boulder, covered in dark red skin, thick curving horns, and two pitch-black, lifeless eyes that stared blankly down at the path. Blood was still dripping slowly from the severed neck, pooling around the base of the wood.

"W-What in the world is that monster...?!"

One of the mercenaries gasped, stepping back while gripping his sword with white knuckles.

"I’ve never seen a beast that big in my entire life!"

"That’s no ordinary beast..."

The mercenary captain stammered, his face turning completely pale as he recognized the distinct, terrifying features from ancient historical logs and guild archives.

"Red skin... horns... and deep black eyes... That’s a high-tier demonic entity! No... that’s a Demon King!"

Panic instantly seized the entire caravan. The horses began to kick and rear back in fear, sensing the lingering, heavy pressure that still oozed from the severed head.

"Look at the ground!"

Another mercenary shouted, pointing at the dirt road directly beneath the stake.

Written across the wide path in thick, dark crimson blood that refused to dry under the morning sun was a single, terrifying line of text.

[Thirteen Demon Kings. I have restored the count.]

The mercenary captain read the words aloud, his voice shaking so violently that he could barely finish the sentence.

"R-Restored the count...? What does it mean?"

He muttered. But soon enough... Deducting from their location—the mercenary captain realized what the message meant.

As Verc lost his consciousness in the quiet, blood-stained room of his ruined castle, his message was being delivered to all corners of the world.

The news was beyond anything the human realm had anticipated. The balance of power that had remained undisturbed for centuries had been shattered in a single night by a newcomer who left no room for negotiation.