The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

'Do I know him?' Demon rolled the dice, obtaining enough moves to reach player eight. Player eight's face looked familiar. He wasn't a friend of Oscar's, yet something stuck out. Stopping a step before player eight's platform, Demon gazed without blinking at player eight's features, noticing how his target shrank in fear before him.

"PLAYER ONE, ADVANCE TO THE NEXT PLATFORM." The voice urged Demon onward, or else it would be a breach of the rules.

'So that's it…You were destined to suffer or die either way.' Demon remembered who this person was. The fellow Blue Ocean Pavilion student was one of the ones he and Oscar saved from the Grovekeepers' underwater prison. All the luck had run short for this target.

'Oscar will be more angered by this.' Focused more on Oscar's future anger, Demon waltzed onto the platform, no longer gazing at player eight. He read the status and saw the current augment cards his target held. Player eight only had a single augment card, owing to his horrible luck.

"Hey! Which faction are you from?" Player eight shouted, retreating from Demon's simple steps. His face paled, dripping with sweat. Anyone could see the fear gripping his heart.

"...." Demon ignored player eight. His feet became bound to the platform, unable to free themselves until the start of the battle.

"Who the hell are you?! If you're one of us, we can reason this out!" Player eight summoned his anima, a panther made of water. It growled and showed its sharp claws of drill-like waters. It was hard to get a feel for it earlier, but now with the anima out, player eight's grade had become known. He was a grade five Exolsia. "I'm warning you right now. We can talk this out!"

"THE BATTLE WILL BEGIN IN 10!"

To get to his best condition, Demon meditated in silence, checking his core and his body as the countdown echoed in his mind. Something started to drag into his head. For the first time, Demon shuddered, trembling from the flicker of emotion which sank his heart, a horrible and repulsive feeling.

'What is this?' Demon knew this wasn't him. These trembling hands weren't because of him… 'Oscar? Are you waking up?' No response came, and Demon clenched hard to suppress the weak quivering. 'Even while unconscious, Oscar's instincts scream at me to stop. Will you give up your life to let this one through? You can explain yourself when you wake up.'

"2!"

"1!"

"BEGIN!"

Water gathered into tidal waves under player eight's feet. Player eight and his panther anima streamed ahead in full force, circling Demon like a maelstrom. His speed increased so much that his figure blurred and submerged with the torrential waters.

Demon finally suppressed Oscar's lingering thoughts, not bothering to follow player eight's movements. He knew player eight worked with the assumption of how slowly he moved during his previous bouts against monsters, a deception of a slow and powerful fighting style similar to Orden's. With a single Eirin step, he caught up to player eight, bursting through the heavy, torrential waters which would have torn him apart if not for the heavy shroud of Ein.

"Bastard!" Player eight swung his spear, controlling the waters with his will. Tides and maelstroms moved like snakes, slithering around with focus toward Demon. His use of his waters instead of the spear displayed how fearful he was of close combat against Demon. Instead, the panther anima rode the tides to attack from anywhere.

Demon tensed up, not from caution. Muscles trembled and released a Ripple Shroud of Eirin. Regis should be watching right now, but Demon didn't care, knowing his Ripple Shroud wouldn't expose Oscar. Player eight gaped with jaws wide at how his powerful waves scattered apart into a gentle shower, and his panther anima suffered slight injuries.

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Rushing in with Eirin-empowered feet, Demon circled behind player eight, swinging his hammer with all of his might. As expected, his Reis-forged hammer, made to handle Reis and Ein, easily carried the Eirin. Player eight had little choice, only able to barely turn his head in time to see the hammer lodge itself into his waist.

Bones broke, flesh tore, and blood exploded out. Player eight's agonized cries never stopped, annoying Demon. Rubbing his ears through the helmet, Demon pulled out his hammer, sending chunks of the spine out.

"AH! AH! AH! NO! DON'T!" Player eight's screams continued despite losing blood from his waist and spine being torn apart.

Wanting to stop the annoying noise, Demon raised his hammer and slammed down with all of his strength. Player eight's head popped like a bubble, covering Demon in his blood splatters and gunks of the brain. Unable to see through his black-glass visor, now covered in blood, he tried to wipe it off. However, his blood-soaked hands were incapable of doing so.

It wasn't a problem at all. He checked his status through some gaps while still covered in blood, confirming the angle of the image.

He turned to the side so his face would face everyone watching. Raising his thumb, Demon motioned across his neck. He wanted them to be afraid even more. With the cruel way he killed player eight, everyone else should start becoming warier and slip up from fear. It didn't matter if things turned out differently; he had to kill player eight anyway, so he might as well try to gain more benefits from it.

"PLAYER ONE IS THE WINNER. HE WILL ADVANCE THREE STEPS IN ADDITION TO HIS LEFTOVER ONE STEP AFTER A TEN-MINUTE BREAK."

'The game has some sense. Though, I don't really need it.' Demon looted player eight, dipping his knees in the pool of blood. He gained a single augment card for an overlaying illusion. Unlike the copy illusion card, this one described its uses as changing an object or person into the image of another. 'This will be useful with the copy.'

Demon dragged player eight's body and tossed it into the magma. The red depths swallowed the body, burning it into ash and leaving only black smoke which faded. Demon watched the entire process of the body burning, thinking only of how Oscar would feel.

After ten minutes, Demon was allowed to continue and decided to go four steps away from Regis, wanting to leave their battle for later. His new platform shone brightly, similar to a teleportation formation. If it was teleportation, Demon wondered if he could get close to another person.

"PLAYER ONE HAS LANDED ON THE TELEPORT SQUARE, A RARE ONE. HE WILL GET TO CHOOSE TO TELEPORT TO ANOTHER PLAYER'S LOCATION AND FIGHT THEM."

'Perfect. Who should I go for next?' Demon pulled up the status, glancing at the other red dots. He noted Regis was to his right, and even further right was another easy mark. Demon pointed to the red dot on the map. "I want to go here."

"CONFIRMED! TELEPORTATION STARTING IN 10!"

When the countdown ended, the Ein enveloped Demon, pulling him through space. Demon landed on a new platform.

"Please!" Someone shouted with a whimper.

A woman wearing the black uniform of the Earth Core Academy bowed her head to the floor, trembling and crying. She shook her head and said, "Please!"

Demon gazed at the fearful woman, knowing his scare tactic had worked to a remarkable degree of success. Her confidence was gone. He didn't say anything. To respond to the other would only lessen the effect. The woman lifted her head, eyes red as tears streamed down her cheeks. She would be considered beautiful if not for the teary mess on her face.

To her shock, the countdown had already begun. She cried more, having lost the will to fight. She pulled at her hair and screamed, "Why me?! Why me?! I don't want to be in this anymore. Please let me leave!"

Her begging and groveling to the unknown voice controlling the game garnered no response. Only the countdown continued, and Demon had enough of hearing her wails. She wiped her face and stared at Demon before averting her eyes away and nearly vomiting.

Demon remembered player eight's blood and brains were still scattered on his fabricator uniform. Seeing her lose her bearings from seeing it wasn't a surprise.

"Monster….What kind of sickening monster are you?" The woman palmed her face and knelt, whispering a little song to herself. Demon paid no attention, only focusing on the countdown.

"BEGIN!"

Demon moved instantly. Before his hammer reached her, he heard a part of her song.

"Feel better in the morrow." Her soft voice whispered.

Her head crushed like a fruit. Demon wondered what sort of song she was singing to herself. Instead of fighting for her life, she gave up and sang. Her will was lacking. In this palace, she should have hardened herself for the reality of death.

Demon looted her space pocket and tossed her into the magma. By this point, the others should be fearing him more.

Several turns later, Demon's plan came to fruition. He killed a member of the Thousand Storm Palace after some hardship, using his spells sparingly and differently to avoid rousing some suspicions. His opponent was a tougher one, but he fell all the same.

Now the path was clear. He stared to his left. Regis was a few squares away. All the preparation was now complete, and the harvest was here.

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