The Hunter watched the pair—an extremely handsome man and a beautiful young girl—standing in the middle of the dead forest, looking somewhat lost. Was it normal to encounter such beautiful beings in a place like this? In all seriousness, it was strange for them to be here, not to mention that the pressure emanating from the white-haired man was truly immense. Had the hunter not spent years traveling and fighting for his life, he would have bolted already.
"Oh... it is good to find you here, dear friend. I have a few questions, and I hope you will answer them."
The man's voice was smooth and enchanting, yet terrifying at the same time, as if something dark lurked beneath the surface. The words entered the hunter's head directly, bypassing all normal senses. Sweat poured down his back; what the hell had he gotten himself into? Cursing himself internally for accepting the job, he began to back away, trying to maintain a shred of confidence.
"Haha, you know, friend... I think I've got the wrong place. See you later."
Turning around to run, he was shocked to find the man already standing behind him with a smile.
"I'm afraid I cannot let you leave... not until you give me the answers I seek."
The hunter retreated several steps to put distance between himself and the stranger with the dark aura. His pupils contracted as a golden aura, born from his enlightenment, surged through his body to purify the dark miasma that seeped in just by being in the creature's presence.
"What do you want?"
Before the hunter could do anything else, a hand was already clamped around his throat. The last thing he saw was hair as white as the moon, and the body of the being before him opening up to reveal a world of absolute darkness.
Gazing at the spot where the hunter had stood, Alma sighed. He had actually eaten him, and he had his reasons. He knew the hunter wouldn't talk willingly, and besides, he wanted to get used to killing before reaching the city.
His decision was validated after sifting through the hunter's memories. The girl's stepmother had sent him to confirm Snow White's death and, if she were alive, to kill her. He also discovered a thriving black market—slaves, magic items, things that didn't exist in his previous world, even before the "Mushroom War." While magic was known back then, it wasn't widespread like here, where fairies and artifacts were common, and roads were infested with mercenaries and thieves.
"I have to say, this is a complicated world..."
Alma finally turned his gaze toward Snow White. She was staring at the spot where the hunter had vanished with a conflicted look. He could feel it—she felt nothing. That was her internal struggle; she felt less human because the sight of death didn't cause her the expected pain or disgust. That void brought her a sense of self-loathing.
"Let's move, kid. I have a better grasp of this world now."
Alma wasn't good with people, nor did he care how they perceived him. He began walking toward the city, and soon heard the girl's footsteps behind him. An awkward silence hung between them for most of the day, only lightening at night when Snow White began practicing her transformations: from wolves to bats, from brown bears to birds. She could turn into any non-magical animal she had seen. It was curious for Alma to watch someone use skills he had always ignored.
Since they possessed brutal stamina, they didn't stop for the night. Any animals that appeared fled after speaking with the girl; it seemed she could now not only tame animals but understand them—a skill he lacked. At midnight, with the moon at its peak, Alma decided to stop and enter his "Soul Realm" with the girl.
The hunter had possessed a technique that might solve his corrupted aura problem: the Art of Meditation toward Enlightenment. In a world of magic, using meditation for self-control wasn't popular, but it was exactly what Alma needed to balance his aura of death.
The girl loved the mental realm—a place where dreams became reality. Perhaps a bit too much. While he meditated, the girl accidentally "dropped" a sun onto the earth, nearly destroying his inner soul. Wiping blood from his eyes, Alma opened them to see a world burnt to its foundations: the sky was fire-red, the moon was shattered, and the sun had crashed into the dirt.
"Hehe... sorry. The sun slipped out of my hand."
Alma rolled his eyes. How does one "slip" a star?
[Congratulations. Due to a specific action... your soul has gained the Gift: "Destroyer"] [Destroyer]: A skill born to beings who have directly or indirectly destroyed a world.
[Congratulations. You have gained: "Demon Lord Seed"] [Demon Lord Seed]: Born from the soul itself. Usually only achieved by beings of pure evil, but there are exceptions. Requirements: Collect 10,000 souls and destroy a world. To germinate: 100,000 souls are required.
A cocoon of shadows enveloped him as his body evolved one step closer to a divinity he didn't want. When the chaos settled, Alma looked at the girl, who was breaking into a cold sweat. Two backward-curving horns now marked his demonic side.
[Congratulations. All stats (excluding Luck and Charisma) have doubled] [Passive Skill Gained: "Demonic Aura"] [Subclass Added: Demi-Demon Lord]
Ignoring the system prompts, Alma stood up, grabbed the one responsible for this mess, and punished her with a spanking. Dammit, it hurts when your consciousness realm is brutally destroyed.
The cries of a little princess echoed through the ruined world.
"You're a demon!" she sobbed during her well-deserved lecture.