The Novel's Professor

Rio stared at the cloaked figures, withdrawing his hand from the body of the four armed demon.

"So... I assume none of you are going to talk?"

The group of cultists remained silent. Suddenly, a clap echoed behind them. They immediately moved away, letting a cloaked figure pass by.

"...Rio Salem," From the group, a cloaked figure stepped out. The cloaked figure spoke, his voice hoarse. "Come with us."

Rio frowned, his body taking a step forward to the group. His brows furrowed, warily staring at the cloaked figures surrounding him. "..How do you know my name?"

"It matters not," The cloaked figure answered cryptically. "The Archbishop sees all. Hear only the order ordained, for you to follow us and let us to take you."

"..Not answering my question then?" Rio asked, raising his hand as he assumed a stance. Any manner that could threaten his life took priority. First, top priority. "This is your last chance. Tell me... Now. How did you know my name?"

"As I said, It ma—"

Whoosh—!

Before the cloaked cultist could finish his words, a loud sound resounded. Rio's body moved like a blur, instantly arriving at the cloaked cultist body. He plunged his arm, grabbing the figure's throat in succession.

He clenched his hand, making the cultist choke. Rio stared into the cultist's eyes. "... Then, die."

The cultist's eyes widened, his hands reaching out to Rio's arms. It seemed to be a struggle for mercy...and yet—

Woosh—!

Suddenly, the wind blew, removing the part of cloak covering the cultist face. The cultist had wide, fervent eyes, unflinching as the man stared at Rio. He shouted, choking. "Ca—ca..capture him!"

In that moment, every cultist in the surroundings took action. Their body leaping towards Rio. From their hands, different kinds of weapons were lunged into Rio.

Woosh—!

Rio clicked his tongue, annoyed. He clenched his hand tightly. From his palm, a large dark red spike erupted—stabbing the cultist's throat. The cultist's eyes shook, slowly losing luster as their body dropped beneath the ground.

Thud—!

A loud thud resounded while the different weapons lunging at him reached his position.

Without resting, he immediately ducked. Above his head, an arching weapon slashed through the air, missing his body entirely. Afterwards, he leaped to the back—breathlessly dodging every attack aimed at him.

Woosh—!

"..None of you will answer, I take it?" Rio asked, his body recovering from dodging. He stood up, assuming a stance. He stared at the cultist, his eyes cold and callous. He snapped his fingers. "Then so be it."

Snap—!

In that moment, splinters of ice suddenly conjured behind him. It numbered around fifty, and reaching even hundreds. The numbers continued to increase. And then it stopped. From his back, innumerable splinters of ice hovered—ready to launch.

Additionally, different from the usual, an eerie dark red energy hovered around the hail of ice—hazzardly distorting the texture of the ice.

The cultists stared at it warily. Yet their bodies taking a step back. On their arms, they raised the weapons they were using, pointing it straight to the hail of ice.

Rio was impressed. It seemed they had no fear of death at all. He raised his hand, pointing at the cultist surrounding him.

"Release."

Swoosh—!

As soon as his words dropped, the hail of ice shot forward, blasting through the air—showering the surrounding cultist with the sharp splinters of ice.

The splinters of ice were too many to count off. Several cultists moved at the last moment, dodging the splinters of ice. The others who were not as fast, tried to block it and resulted in a pitiable fate.

"Ah—!" A cultist shouted, their body hit by the splinters of ice. It stabbed through their skin easily, reaching the depths of their body. The moment it etched deep on their skin, like a minefield —it exploded.

Boom—! Boom—!

Explosions of ice resounded one after another, following it was the agonizing screams of the cultists, their body torn and disintegrated.

Before Rio's eyes, a mass slaughter enveloped, bloodied red mist erupting in the air as it spread around the surroundings. His body shook, trembling from the desire to devour the blood.

The few other cultists who survived staggered, surprised by the sudden explosions.

His eyes darted around the place—noticing several openings to retreat on. He could escape now and they wouldn't be able to do anything... But he wasn't interested in stopping any time yet. He still wanted to know how they knew his name.

He raised his hand, manipulating the corrupted magical energy within his body once more. Infront of him, a large ball of fire suddenly conjured. But unlike the usual orange flames, this one was shining dark crimson.

His attention shifted to the flames, marveling at its upgraded variation. He could feel the large ball of fire flare—aligning with his burning desire.

The exponential growth of strength of demonization was terrifying, to say the least. Not only was his physical strength massively improved—the corrupted magical energy inside him also granted his skills much more power than usual. However, as every good thing came with a downside, this one was no different.

The further he takes in corrupted energy, the more his body would no longer resemble that of a human and morph into a demon. Likewise, the more he uses the corrupted energy inside him, the more his mind would sink into the depths of insanity.

Additionally, corrupted energy exhausted swiftly. It was avoided by many for a reason. As good as the benefits demonization brought, it was a trap in disguise. The exhaustion of energy leads to death, while the over absorption of energy leads to insanity. Both of which are terrible endings.

..That was, after all, the rule of demonization. In sacrifice for the soul, body and mind—one would gain power above everyone else to further chase their ideals and desire.

The moment he chose to be a demonic human than to die, it was also the moment he accepted the universe's insanity. Rio put up a mocking smirk, his hand pointing at the surrounding cultist once more. He stared at the cultists, their numbers reduced to few.

Rio chuckled, raising his hand. He manipulated the corrupted energy within his body, choosing a skill among his arsenal.

Ah, that skill would fit.

He controlled the large ball of fire behind his back, carefully handling its movements. Double casting. ...He hadn't tried it before. It should be a new experience.

Rio shook his head, staring at the cultists with one last glance. He could feel...the call get louder. He directed the corrupted energy to his palm. He shouted, bringing down his hand.

"Burn, burn, burn. Incinerate, smolder and flare—be ravaged by the flames. «Agilao», «Flames of Alucide»!"

Woosh—! Crackle—!

In that moment, the large, dark crimson fireball behind his body shot forward, blasting through the air. The cultists tried to find an opening to escape at. However, before their eyes, a ring of fire suddenly ignited, closing their chances of escaping.

The cultists assembled in the middle, warily staring at their surroundings. Around them, it was flames. Burning. Incinerating. They could only hear the crackling sound of fire, ready to burn them to ashes.

One of the others tried to jump out—only for the ring of fire enrapture their body, devouring it wholly and turning the person into mere ash.

The ring of flames surrounded their bodies, closing in at each moment. In the middle, they suddenly kneeled. ...They felt it, the call of their God. Their death was near. They clasp their hands, ready to accept their deaths.

Woosh—! Crackle—!

In that moment, the large dark crimson ball of fire reached their position—surrounded by the crackling sounds of flames—they prayed for their last. The rings of fire closed in. They opened their eyes. Only to be greeted... by a blinding, dark crimson ball of fire.

Within the fire, they burned. In the flames, their body incinerated. In the barren forest, they turned into mere ash, blown away from the wind.

Amidst all of this, Rio watched in an uncaring expression. The scene was like hell itself. It was rightful vindication, a beautiful irony of cultist themselves succumb for the hell they desire.

He sighed, turning to a different direction... There was no more delaying. It was time. Within him, he felt his desires flared once more, pushing him to hurry up.

Rio stared at the sky, noticing the sudden raindrop befall him. Ah, it was raining. He raised his hand, covering the moon.

...It was time for the finale, was it not?

It was time for his revelation. He shook his head, turning back to his previous direction. In the ends of the forest, he felt something—he felt a call for him. A call for his desires.

Rio stepped forward.

—

From the ends of the barren forest, a handsome man with mature features kneeled beneath the ground, in front of him, the statue of a snake shone.

The man's body was covered by a crimson, scarlet red cloak—signifying his identity as a cultist of greed, a servant of Qrqvitiq.

"Ah," Aza opened his eyes in slight surprise. He hummed a tune as he spoke, "You finally arrived. But... aren't you too late, however? My plans had already succeeded. Nothing is left of this whole sector of the world. Soon...death will enrapture every being within."

Behind him, from the trees, a brown haired man stepped out.

The man had a handsome yet inhumane appearance. His dark, purplish eyes shone, appearing mystical and alluring. Behind his back, dark red demonic spikes protruded—making him appear hunched back.

"Well, perhaps.." Aza muttered, his body standing up. He turned his head, staring at the brown haired man. "You're after for something different, Rio Salem?"

Aza chuckled, his eyes staring at the brown haired man.

Rio stared back. "...Tell me."