The caravan jolted to a halt, the horses whinnying nervously as their hooves scraped at the gravel. The once-steady rhythm of wheels turning over earth was now replaced with murmurs of unease, the creak of leather armor, and the metallic rasp of blades being unsheathed.
The merchants rarely stopped like this—not unless something was wrong.
Dead wrong.
[Primal awareness has been activated]
Vergil stirred, instinct flaring to life beneath the weariness clinging to his bones. He shifted toward the carriage door.
"Vergil, you need rest!" Elina protested, reaching for his wrist.
Eleanor's tone was sharper. "We'll handle it. Don't be reckless."
"Both of you—listen." Vergil leaned forward and whispered something low into their ears. His voice barely carried, a string of cryptic instructions that made Elina's eyes widen. Eleanor, by contrast, narrowed her gaze, processing his words with sharp focus before giving a curt nod.
Vergil gave them both one final look, then stepped out into the fading light of dusk.
The chill hit him first—an unnatural cold that crept across the skin like a shadow brushing his neck. The wind had died. Even the rustling of trees around them had gone silent, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Up ahead, just beyond the first carriage, a lone figure stood in the middle of the road. Hooded. Still. Almost too still.
Vergil's eyes narrowed. The man didn't speak, didn't move. His head was tilted down, obscured beneath the shadow of the hood. Not even the wind disturbed his cloak.
One of the adventurers from the second cart—tall, broad-shouldered, maybe mid-thirties—stepped forward cautiously, hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"Hey," the man called out. "Are you alright?"
No answer.
The hooded figure took one slow step forward. Then another. Each step oddly stiff, as if joints were resisting the motion. The adventurer frowned, stepping closer.
"I said—are you alri—"
Suddenly, the hooded man paused mid-step. Then, as if something inside him snapped, his mouth opened wide—too wide.
No words came.
Just silence.
The adventurer blinked, confused. "Are you alr—?"
Crunch.
A jagged, black horn erupted from the man's throat, bursting upward with horrifying speed. The adventurer didn't even have time to scream. The horn split through his skull, tearing through bone and brain with a sickening crack.
His body stood motionless for a heartbeat, blood spurting from the stump of his neck like a fountain. Then he crumpled, face first, into the dirt.
The silence shattered.
Screams echoed across the caravan.
The hooded figure's body convulsed violently as bones snapped and realigned, his frame expanding far beyond human limits. Black plates—slick, segmented, and insect-like—rippled over his flesh, fusing with the blood-drenched skin beneath. His build took on an animalistic stance, a terrifying fusion of beast and horror. Thick, talon-tipped limbs burst from his sides, pounding into the earth with enough force to crack stone.
The transformation was monstrous.
His spine arched and elongated until the creature stood nearly four meters tall. Its silhouette was broad and hulking, like some nightmarish predator built for war. The chitinous armor gleamed with a haunting mix of scarlet and black, the colors shifting subtly across its massive frame.
Its cloak shredded away, revealing a face far larger than before—grotesque and stretched, with six blazing red eyes glowing like embers in a furnace.
But perhaps the most haunting feature remained: the human head. No it did not vanish but became one with the creature, embedded like a grotesque mask on the forehead of the beasts true head. Blood poured from the sockets. Dripping like crimson tears.
Its mouth split open sideways, unhinging in two directions like a monstrous flower of fangs, and it let out a scream—a soul-piercing, mind-crushing shriek that made the air vibrate and the horses rear back in terror.
People stumbled out of the carriages, some drawing weapons, others frozen in horror.
Vergil stood still, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the creature.
Analysis'
Name: Scarlithid
Level 35
Rank II
Lifespan 250 years
Race:Demon, Feral horror
Class:None
Strength: 142
Constitution: 147
Dexterity: 134
Intuition: 130
Demonic energy: 150
Active skills
Crimson Howl (B-) -Emits a deafening scream that disrupts nervous systems and magical flow for 8 seconds to weaker targets.
Skewer bloom(C)- creates and launces spikes of demonic energy
Stomp (C+) Jumps forward up to 12m and crashes down with double the crushing force
Visceral shatter (C-) slams its horn downward. Reduces targets defense by 15%
Passive skills
Chitin fortification (C)Naturally creates an Insectoid exoskeleton, that increases its natural defense by 25% an andpassively absorbs 12% of damage taken
Predators pulse (C-) Emits a barely perceptible pulse every 10 seconds that highlights wounded enemies in red in a 50 metre radius
Unholy Endurance (D+) when health drops below 30%, constitutions increases by 10% for 10 seconds
---
'Well... shit,' Vergil thought, as his limbs refused to move. His body, normally a storm of instinct and motion, now felt like cold stone.
The demon-beast's six eyes locked onto him.
Of course they did.
It charged.
The ground quaked as its limbs hammered forward, each step shaking the earth with thunderous force. Jagged claws dug into the dirt, launching it with terrifying speed. The horn—still wet with brain matter—gleamed under the fading sun, its jaw unhinged like a starving predator let loose from the void.
Vergil tried to will his body into action.
Nothing.
'Shit. That skill's still binding me… I can't move. I can't even boost my body…'
The next moment came too fast.
A sound like a thunderclap echoed as the creature slammed into Vergil with monstrous force. He was lifted off his feet like a ragdoll, hurled through the forest. Trees splintered and cracked as his body ripped through them like a thrown weapon. A particularly thick trunk stopped his momentum with a deafening CRACK, his spine compressing against it like a bow snapping back.
He hit the ground hard, skidding across the forest floor before coming to a groaning halt. His vision blurred.
Blood leaked from his mouth as he coughed violently.
His back screamed in agony. His skull throbbed like a war drum.
But before his mind faded, instinct kicked in—he poured his mana inward, focusing it along his spine and ribs.
Verdant Regeneration is being activated.
His internal injuries began stitching themselves together. Bruised tissue pulsed faintly with green light. Bones realigned. The blood flow slowed, then stopped.
The beast roared again. Closer now. Mocking. Triumphant.
Vergil rolled over and forced himself up, one hand pressing against the tree for support. His knees shook, but he stood.
"Well… guess it's time to go to work," he muttered.
Ding.
[Mission 1 – Survive]
Reward – 15 Stat Points, 1 Schematic
Failure – Death
Vergil's eye twitched. "System. What the hell is this?"
[Something to motivate you.]
Vergil scoffed, wiping blood from his lips. "Doesn't look like it."
He took in a slow breath and activated Shadow Dash. The world blurred as mana surged to his soles, lightning-fast acceleration turning him into a ghost darting through the trees. With Mana Affinity engaged, every movement was precise, surgically sharp.
Ahead, chaos reigned.
The adventurers and guards who had tried to hold the line were broken. Some screamed, others gurgled as blood painted the earth. One poor soul was caught mid-flee, his legs crushed beneath the creature's claws before its mouth closed around him in one horrible crunch—bones snapping like dry twigs.
It wasn't feeding.
It was showing off.
Provoking them.
Elina and Eleanor, observing from the carriage, exchanged a silent glance. Without words, Eleanor dismounted and quickly detached one of the horses. She mounted it and reached down, helping Elina up behind her. With a sharp whistle, they rode hard into the forest.
The demon turned its gaze, head twitching at the sound. Its limbs tensed to give chase—
Then something struck it.
A small, glowing dagger hit the beast's plated side. Fire erupted on impact—but the flame fizzled as it bounced off its hardened exoskeleton with a mocking hiss.
A moment later, a stone hit it.
Then another.
And another.
The creature snarled and turned its head. Something in its vision pulsed red.
Predator Sense: Activated.
The source of annoyance stood bloodied and half-bent… but alive.
Vergil.
Hurling pebbles like insults, smirking like he hadn't just been used as a battering ram.
[Provocation Proficiency has increased by 4%]
Vergil rolled his neck, tossing another stone lazily in one hand.
"Hey! Over here.!"
The beast snarled.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you. You've got six eyes and still can't see how stupid you look."
It stepped forward.
"You're a walking, screeching roach with mommy issues—" he gestured to the human face sticking out from its forehead, now drooling blood like a melting candle "—and you brought your mother's face along for the ride? That's messed up even by demon standards."
The creatures human head let out a distorted scream—anger, this time.
Vergil grinned, wiping blood from his cheek.
"Don't worry. I'll send her back to Hell first… But I wonder if she will cry for you when I kill you first.
---
Although the beast didn't understand Vergil's words, it didn't need to. The tone. The posture. The defiance. That was enough. A wounded prey still taunting its predator was an insult the demon-beast would not ignore.
With an earsplitting screech, it launched forward again. Its limbs pounded against the forest floor with a rhythm that echoed like war drums, branches cracking and dust exploding behind it. Its grotesque human-faced crown quivered with fury, the pale expression twisted by the movements of the monster beneath it.
Vergil's jaw tightened. He wasn't fast enough to dodge again—not in this state.
He braced himself, gritting his teeth, and reached into his inventory. A heavy metal shield flickered into his hand, its surface etched with runes of minor protection. With a grunt, he slammed it into the ground and ducked behind it.
'Come on, then...'
What the beast didn't know was that Vergil had laid a trap. Dozens of thin ice threads, nearly invisible in the dim light, stretched between the two trees ahead. Delicate and deadly—if the creature's momentum triggered them.
The beast hit them head-on.
The threads shattered instantly.
Vergil's eye twitched.
'It ran through them like nothing…'
He didn't have time to adjust his plan.
'Increase Constitution with all my remaining points.'
[Increasing Constitution by 18 points...]
A pulse of power rippled through his body, like molten iron flooding into his veins. His muscles tightened, skin firmed, and his bones felt less like glass and more like stone.
But even then—
BOOM.
The beast slammed into him again.
His shield cracked first—then shattered. His arms screamed in pain as the impact drove him backward. He flew like a meteor, crashing through bushes and landing hard against yet another tree, his body folded over the trunk before collapsing to the ground.
Pain. Heat. Nausea. His arms hung limply at his sides, bones vibrating with dull agony.
[Verdant Regeneration is being activated.]
Green veins pulsed along his limbs as muscle tissue began slowly stitching back together, bones realigning with agonizing precision.
'Shit,' he wheezed, coughing blood onto the grass. 'This is not going well… It's a miracle i'm even alive.'
[That's what you're built for, lil bro.]
'Fuck off.'
The green glow faded from his arms, but the ache lingered. He forced himself up—again—and wiped his mouth. Every movement sent fresh spikes of pain up his spine. His ears rang from the impact.
The beast snarled, then stopped.
Vergil's eyes widened. It wasn't charging. It was crouching. Muscles tensed.
"Oh no—"
It leapt.
The trees shook as the enormous creature launched itself into the air like a falling meteor. The sun vanished behind its bulk.
Shadow Dash—
Vergil blinked to the side at the last second. The beast landed where he'd stood with a titanic crash. A crater erupted beneath it. Soil and shattered bark exploded outward in all directions. A shockwave knocked Vergil off his feet again, sending him tumbling.
He groaned, half-laughing, half-choking.
'Almost got squashed...'
[By an obese monster, at that. Imagine dying like that—flat like a pancake. That'd be hilarious...]
He ignored the system's snide commentary.
The demon rose, twitching. Its eyes burned red now, wild and primal. Then its back began to ripple.
Vergil narrowed his eyes. "What now...?"
Demonic energy pulsed out from the beast's body like heat waves. From its back, spikes began to grow. Long, jagged, and humming with dark magic. Ten. No—fifteen. More. The spikes trembled—then shot forward with a shrill whistle.
Vergil didn't hesitate.
He darted left, dived right, then tucked and rolled beneath a fallen log. The first volley missed—but not all of them.
Two spikes slammed into his stomach, punching through flesh and embedding deep.
SKRRCK!
He gasped.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he staggered back, collapsing to one knee.
[Verdant Regeneration is being activated.]
But it wasn't enough. The spikes were still in him, throbbing with demonic energy. His regeneration was being resisted—slowed.
'Fuck. Before anything else... I need to survive. That's it. Just survive.'
His mind raced. Fighting head-on was suicide. His sword would slow him down. His shield was gone. His body was falling apart.
'Focus on movement. Just move.'
He limped behind another tree, each step a lance of pain. The beast was preparing another charge, its gaze locked on him with blind hatred.
'Need to hold on a little longer, for Eleanor and Elina to escape. Then I can plan my escape'
He spotted a cluster of vines above, hanging from a massive tree. An idea formed. Weak. Desperate. But it might work.
He shadow-dashed up the bark, hiding high in the branches. His blood trailed behind him, but the leaves masked it.
The beast stormed below, sniffing, snorting. Spikes reloading.
Vergil timed his breath.
Wait for it...
One second.
Two...
NOW.
He jumped.
He dropped onto the beast's back with a grunt, the muscles in his legs screaming from the impact. The flesh beneath him was unnaturally warm, almost pulsing like a living furnace. Spines twitched and shifted beneath his hands, each one radiating demonic energy that made his skin crawl. He grabbed onto one—long, jagged, and pulsating with a sickly red glow—using it as leverage to steady himself.
The monster howled in fury.
It bucked and twisted violently, trying to throw him off like a raging bull. Its grotesque body twisted in ways no natural creature ever could. Bones cracked. Tendons stretched unnaturally. It slammed itself against trees, scraped its back against boulders, anything to dislodge the parasite clinging to its spine.
Vergil screamed too.
His stomach wound tore wider with every violent jolt, and fresh blood soaked his already shredded shirt. Pain lanced up through his ribs and out his spine, but he didn't let go. He couldn't.
He clenched his teeth, face contorted. 'C'mon... just a little closer…!'
Authority of Transformation.
His body pulsed with a foreign power demonic energy pulsed to his leg, reshaping it in an instant. Flesh twisted. Bone grew. His thigh thickened, calf hardened like forged steel, and his boot split apart as his foot expanded—grotesque and powerful.
He raised the transformed leg.
With a battle cry ripped straight from his lungs, he drove his enlarged foot down with all the mana and force he could muster—right into the base of the spine.
CRACK.
The spike didn't just break—it shattered. Blood and black mist exploded from the impact point, spraying the canopy above like a gruesome firework. A burst of raw demonic energy surged into the air, temporarily shorting out Vergil's senses like static.
The beast shrieked in agony—a raw, guttural roar that shook the forest to its roots. It staggered violently, its footing unstable.
And then Vergil was airborne again.
The beast's final thrash launched him like a ragdoll. He hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud, bounced twice, then skidded across the dirt before coming to a motionless stop, lying on his back. His vision blurred. The world spun. His body screamed at him to stop.
But he smiled.
He'd hurt it.
And then the illusion shattered.
Vergil's left eye—cursed, gifted, and unblinking—glowed faintly, revealing the truth that no one else could see.
Demonic energy surged through the creature's body like a swarm of tendrils. It moved intelligently, gathering like a tide toward the site of injury. Like it had a will of its own. The shredded flesh stitched together, bone regrew, and the broken spine reformed within seconds.
It was like he'd done nothing at all.
Vergil's smile faded.
'You said it didn't have a healing ability…'
[Can I remind you, that demonic energy increases natural regeneration by a lot?] The system chimed with mock innocence
Vergil groaned and coughed blood into the dirt.
'Fuck you.'
Out of nowhere, a white spear tore through the monster's back, erupting from its chest in a flash of blinding light and searing heat. The beast let out a guttural shriek, its maw gaping wide as it collapsed to its knees, smoke rising from the divine wound that pierced its heart.
"Finally tracked the last one down," came a calm, cold voice that seemed to resonate through the clearing, as though each word carried divine weight.