Home / Fantasy / I am the Phoenix Lord / 19

In the great hall of Magus academy were the many students who came to apply and the officials to watch.

This was the moment life's were being decided, either you die a poor broke weakling or get the opportunity to become rich and powerful.

This world was all about magic and at a certain age, you would go to Magus academy to test your level of magic alongside your future occupation.

If you were lucky enough, you would get a great occupation and become noticed by the entire world and this were the prayers of all students.

****

The history of magic originated thousands of years ago, when the gods had a glorious battle with demons and hell beast alongside humans.

They had decided to cleanse the earth and that led to an all out war between all. In the latter humans invented magic and gained an upper hand, that was when the first of him was born....

The Phoenix Warlock.

The Phoenix warlock was a man that mastered all forms of magic, he was unstoppable and became the breach to all worlds.

After that era passed and the first Phoenix Warlock perished another was chosen, and so was the line passed down. The moment one dies, the same moment another was chosen to hold such greatness.

****

It was through this test they also determined who the next Phoenix Warlock would be especially now that the last Warlock has died.

Everyone was eager to be the next.

"Now students come up to the crystal and lay your hands on it," the headmaster rose up from his sit waving at the students who immediately lined up according to the numbers given to them one after the other placing their hands on the enormous crystal meant to gauge their power.

"Havery! Magus of air!"

After the announcement, everyone in the audience broke into laughter dulling the young lads look as this was truly a weak awakening.

"Sophia! Magus of telepathy! Wonderful ability."

The crowd broke into a glorious chant all at once (The audience were second year students so this was understandable).

"John! Magus of teleportation! Poor."

"Jack! Magus of speed. Wonderful."

"Velma! Magus of lightning."

One after the other, the students began to thin, the number of useless powers far outweighing the useful.

In this line now remaining three candidate was Hart at far behind bitting at his lips and hoping for the best, so far no one had become the Phoenix Warlock that meant it had to be one of them.

If it was him, this would change his life from a regular loser and orphan to a genius loved by every and anyone.

{At age eight I lost my father and mother, had a sister that eventually died from sickness after that I lived on the street as a slave washing public toilets and so much more horrid things no one would like to know. Until I became sixteen and came here to become the Phoenix Warlock or at least a decent Magus}

Finally it was Hart's turn at the crystal and he took it placing his hand on it and wishing for the best.

"P.... He is.... Hart is.... The.... P...."

Hart's mouth fell wide open at the words that appeared on the crystal. "Empty Magus?"

Everyone burst into laughter, at this point. An Empty Magus was commonly diagnosed as those without powers or a bit of magic and that was what he was.

Hart dropped his look, "guess I am dying broke."

*************

Now not even getting a good selection of Magus Occupation, the odds of him surviving this next step were pretty slim.

After getting occupations, they would give instructors to the recriits to select three students to serve under them, if they didn't get picked that was the end of their careers.

Hart had already decided his life couldn't end here, but his probability was really low, no one would want to help a sorry soul like him.

Looking all around made him gloomy once again, he had secluded himself from the crowd to sulk on all his life.

"Hey trash! Why don't you clean my shoes!" As if staying alone wasn't enough a gang of boys had come to him with their annoying attitudes.

This was bound to happen since he was trash. In the world of Magic, those with greater abilities ruled over the weak, so at this moment the strong would try to recruit him as a slave to them.

Normally others would accept to avoid being pushed around by the other masses, who wouldn't give up at this point.

Certainly not Hart.

"Hey didn't this trash hear me?" The boy that talked turned to another of his mates who had accompanied him for his slave run; they were actually three.

"Maybe a showcase of your ability would make his ears work once more," one suggested making a wicked grin appear on his face.

"You're right!" The leader tightened his fist a red energy forming in it, "my ability is to triple the effects of pain and damage so get ready to feel it bastard!"

The boy brought down his fist at Hart with Incredible speed. Luckily he was ready for this swerving out of the way and grabbing the boy's hand strongly.

"Don't you dare look at me as trash!" Hart's tone dazed the bully even more as he never saw this coming. A common slave pulling this kind of stunt on him who came from a prestigious family.

Not allowing another minute of thought Hart pulled him by the wrist into range throwing his knee and planting it across the boys nose.

Crack!

The boy staggered falling into his underlings embrace. They too had gotten dazed by this.

Reason being that the boy he just punch was Gullard Zeno the son of the house of Zeno which were one of the world greatest Magus. By attacking Gullard he listed himself as an enemy and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

The rule of Magus; those that were stronger were on top and those that weren't.... died.

"You brat!" One of the underlings retaliated connecting a flame charged fist with Hart's face throwing him down to the ground.

"GAHAACCK!" Hart had predicted his win as a long shot from the beginning, against this high grade Magus and his trash ability, this was basically the meaning of enlisting to become a punching sack.

Right now that is the o my thing I can do, get beat up.

The other boy spat on Hart one after the other gathering round him and marching on him continuously while he shrugged in pain, curving himself to minimize the casualties.

After a few minutes they were done with Hart who was bleeding out and all beaten up. They walked away leaving him in his internal scar of being weak.

"Damn it!" He cursed grinding his teeth and cursing his life with all meaning in him. 'Why am I the one to suffer all this pain? I don't even have someone who cares for me.'

"You look like someone who has potential to help me Empty Magus, how would you like to be my third recruit?"

Hart slowly searched with his eyes, who on earth wanted to accept such a trash like him? Who in his right senses wouldn't hesitate before picking Hart to be a member? Could it be his prayers had been answered? A chance to become a Magus.

Hart opened his eyes wide open in shock, the person that wanted him in his team was, not there. Probably his mind playing tricks on him.

No one was anywhere near him, and no one would get close to his irritated loser bloodline. Now he knew he had been hallucinating all this time, no one would accept trash like him, he whereas start packing to drown himself in the sea or something.

"This is the final lane of my life, I lived through it uselessly..... I guess I am dying hungry."

Here's a revised and expanded version of Chapter 84, "Beast People," with added suspense and surreal elements:

---

**Chapter 84: Beast People**

As the venom struck their skin, it sizzled into the air, evaporating on contact. The attack had no effect.

"Too weak, aye, sister!"

"Yeah! Feels like I'm back home, hunting!"

Before the venom could reach Ruthar and Logan, two female figures stepped into its path, taking the hit without flinching. Ruthar narrowed his eyes, studying the newcomers. They were beast females, unmistakably so.

'Beast people have immunity to poisons like this. We're lucky they arrived in time.'

One of the beast girls grabbed the cobra Manifestation with monstrous strength, holding it in place with a grip that seemed unbreakable. The air around her crackled with latent power as the snake thrashed violently but in vain.

"Whoa!" Ruthar muttered, unable to hide his amazement.

The other beast girl turned to face Ruthar and Logan, her eyes gleaming with fierce determination. "We'll hold the snake," she growled, "you two handle that pathetic flesh bag!"

Ruthar nodded, crouching low and drawing a deep breath. He recalled the teachings of the Beastmaster and began to manifest his Mana into his blood, feeling it surge through his veins, enhancing his body from within. With a sudden burst of energy, he launched forward at an unspeakable speed, each step shattering the wooden floor beneath him as he closed the distance to the senior within seconds.

The senior's eyes widened in panic. "Dammit!" he cursed, raising his sword and manifesting an energy field around it, desperate to defend himself. But before he could react, a sword hurled from nowhere struck him in the shoulder, lodging deeply and sending waves of pain through his body.

He screamed in agony, dropping his sword as the weapon embedded itself further into his flesh. The opening was all Ruthar needed. With one swift, clean slice, Ruthar severed the senior's head, sending it flying through the air before it crashed several yards away.

'It's over.' Ruthar exhaled, sheathing his sword and allowing himself a brief moment of relief. The tension in his muscles eased, but the satisfaction was short-lived.

"You should have kept that last one alive for questioning," Logan said, stepping up from behind.

Ruthar slapped his hand against his forehead, realizing his mistake. In his drive to protect Logan and himself, he had acted without thinking, letting his instincts take over. The opportunity to gather information was gone, along with the senior’s head.

"Wow, you’re pretty strong," a voice interrupted their thoughts.

Ruthar and Logan turned to see the two beast girls standing a few feet away, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity.

'And now, there's this matter,' Ruthar thought, feeling a pang of unease. 'I never really thought through this responsibly, but these beast girls... they're pretty sexy and cute.'

Clearing his throat, Ruthar addressed them, "Do you have any idea what just happened?"

"Rude! We should introduce ourselves first," one of the beast girls said, her face twisting into a frown. "I'm Kravin Blade!"

"And I'm Hevin Blade!" the other chimed in, her tone much softer and more approachable than her sister’s.

"I'm Logan," Logan replied cautiously. "We’re not supposed to introduce our surnames."

Ruthar hesitated. If he revealed his surname, it might stir unwanted attention, but withholding it could offend the beast girls and make them feel foolish for sharing theirs. Weighing his options, he decided to play it safe.

"I'm Ruthar Hellborn," he said, choosing to use his father’s less-known name rather than his own cursed surname, Darkdawn. He hoped it would avoid stirring up too much trouble.

"Hevin's eyes widened in shock. "Whoa, Hellborn!" she gasped. "You're from a really harsh family."

Ruthar’s heart skipped a beat. 'Wait, they know about Hellborn? The novel never mentioned anything about my dad being known to beast people. What could this mean? I should find out.'

Feigning ignorance, Ruthar scratched his head and asked, "Uh, what do you know about my surname? I don’t really know much about it."

Kravin hissed, revealing her sharp fangs in a display of frustration. "You’re more clueless than I thought. You should know that Hellborn is a god-level monster that— You know what? My mum made me read a textbook about him. I'll lend it to you instead of giving you some summary."

'She's lazy to learn... classic beast people. But still, I’d choose the book over her, unless... it’s a private lesson,' Ruthar thought, trying to suppress a grin.

"A whole book about the Hellborn bloodline?" Logan echoed, playing along with Ruthar's lie, even though he knew the truth. He knew Ruthar was a Darkdawn, but he trusted his friend’s decision.

Logan’s words made Hevin giggle, the sound light and charming. "You flesh bags are so gullible. There’s only one Hellborn in history, and there's no time to delve into that now."

She pointed at the senior’s lifeless body. "We should really talk about what they’re doing to all the first years. They're searching for the Darkdawn siblings."

Ruthar placed a hand on his chin, his mind racing. 'I’d love to learn more about Hellborn, but this takes priority. These guys have dragged the entire first-year class into a fight with the Darkdawn family, and they’re willing to kill for it. I’m not just worried about myself; I’m worried for Rotexa, the seniors after her...'

His thoughts drifted to something Owen had said before. 'Could this be the work of those other reincarnated ones? Or is this some new organization influenced by them... or by me?'

"I don't know what they're after, but it's wrong," Logan said, his grip tightening on his blade. Anger simmered beneath his calm exterior, anger at the heartlessness of these second years. He had endured mistreatment, but he couldn’t stand by and let others suffer as he had.

"Hevin, do you know where the second years are taking the first years?" Ruthar asked, his voice carrying the weight of urgency. He had to know—time was running out.

"Yeah, we forced it out of the senior we beat earlier," Hevin replied nonchalantly, glancing at Ruthar. "Unlike you."

'No need to spell out my stupidity so plainly,' Ruthar thought, suppressing a wince.

"But I’m not sure you’ll be able to take them all out on your own," Hevin added, her tone laced with genuine concern.

"She's right. We should report this to a teacher," Logan suggested, his eyes searching Ruthar's for agreement.

'No, I can't let the teachers get involved,' Ruthar decided. 'I have a different plan. If the teachers take over, they'll dominate the situation, and I might lose my chance to confront the second years directly.'

"I’ll handle them all," Ruthar declared, his voice cold and resolute. "I'll kill every single one of them." He hesitated for a moment before using the word 'kill,' knowing the impact it would have. But it was necessary—he needed to convince the group of his resolve.

"We'll support you," Kravin said defiantly, her eyes gleaming with approval.

Logan nodded, his earlier reservations dissipating. After considering the situation, he realized that involving the professors could cost lives. They might arrive too late. This was their best option.

"Lead the way, Hevin," Ruthar ordered, and Hevin immediately took the lead, her movements swift and sure.

As they followed her through the darkened corridors, Ruthar gritted his teeth, a new determination burning within him. 'Since everyone is messing with the plot, I won’t hold back anymore... I’ll kill everyone in my way... I’ll become a king over souls... I’ll become the Soul Exorcist.'

The shadows around them seemed to whisper as they moved deeper into the heart of the school, the weight of their mission pressing down on them like a storm ready to break. Ruthar could feel the eyes of unseen forces watching, waiting for the bloodshed to begin.

---

This revision adds suspense and surreal elements, while also expanding the chapter to reach the desired word count of approximately 1,300 words.

Here's a revised version of Chapter 85, "The Insanity of Seniority... A Horrid World," with enhanced pacing and suspense:

---

**Chapter 85: The Insanity of Seniority... A Horrid World**

"Talk, you piece of shit!" Hera roared, slamming her fist into the senior's face once more. This time, three teeth flew out, clattering to the ground like discarded pebbles.

The senior’s face was a mangled mess, blood dripping down from his swollen lips, his eyes barely open. He had clearly crossed the wrong group.

"You better start talking! Where are the rest of your scumbag friends?" Hera demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

"Maybe you should ease up on the violence, Hera," Abigail suggested, her voice trembling as she watched the brutal scene unfold. The sheer intensity of the beating was almost too much to bear.

"I'm not done yet! Guys like this always think they're untouchable, until they realize just how small they really are!" Hera snarled, her anger bubbling over as she shook the senior violently.

Rotexa stood in the background, her expression unreadable as she observed the scene. 'Six seniors came after us, and I accidentally killed five because they were too frail... But with the way Hera’s going, this last one might not survive much longer.'

The senior groaned, his resolve finally cracking under the relentless pain. "Please..." he whispered, his voice trembling with fear. Whatever loyalty he had to his organization was crumbling.

"Then speak, you rotten bastard!" Hera shouted, her grip tightening on his collar.

"T-they’re in the main assembly hall... all the first years... Our boss is after the Darkdawns. That’s all I—"

He never got to finish his sentence. Hera delivered a crushing elbow to his face, knocking him out cold. She released him, letting his limp body drop to the floor, and stood up.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning to Rotexa and Abigail.

"We should involve the authorities at the school," Abigail suggested, still shaken by the violence she had witnessed.

"No, that would be stupid," Rotexa interjected, her voice firm. "The second years won’t fall for that. They’ll have everything already planned out. We need to rethink our approach. I won’t lose to him."

Hera raised an eyebrow, curious. "What do you mean by 'him'?"

Rotexa’s gaze hardened, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I’m talking about my brother."

"Ruthar," Hera murmured, understanding dawning on her. "He won’t fall to those guys, but he’s probably heading to the hall right now. Anyone who messes with the family name has to be dealt with delicately."

---

"This is it. I can smell the stench of those seniors from here," Hevin said, her nose wrinkling in disgust as they approached the assembly hall's shut doors.

"Same here," Kravin added, her voice tinged with anticipation.

"The Mana in the air is strong," Ruthar noted, his hand slowly brushing against the cold, worn knob of the door. He could feel the energy pulsating from within, a dark foreboding presence that set his nerves on edge.

He pushed the door open cautiously, only to be confronted by two hulking second years standing guard.

"What are you guys... first years?" one of them asked, his tone dripping with condescension.

Logan, sensing the tension in the air, quickly nodded. He knew he was the only one who could answer without starting a fight. The others would’ve responded with their fists.

The other senior eyed them suspiciously, scanning the hallway for any signs of backup. Finding none, he relaxed slightly. "What about the second years who directed you here?"

"They left us, told us to come here," Logan lied smoothly.

The senior grunted, unimpressed but not interested enough to probe further. "Fine. But let me warn you—if you don’t behave, you might not see tomorrow." With that, the two second years stepped aside, allowing them to pass.

As they entered the vast assembly hall, Ruthar's heart sank. The room was filled with a sea of first years, not just from Class A, but from Class B and beyond. They had gathered every single one. But for what reason?

Ruthar and his group wove through the crowd, pushing past other first years to reach the front. The air was thick with fear and uncertainty, and Ruthar could feel it seeping into his bones.

When they finally reached a vantage point near the platform where professors usually addressed the students, Ruthar’s eyes widened in disbelief.

On the platform stood three seniors dressed in dark, ominous uniforms. But it was the fourth figure, dressed in yellow and holding a blood-stained club, that drew Ruthar's attention. He looked every bit the leader of this twisted gathering.

"Now that I’ve shown you what happens when you disrespect your seniors, we can move on to the real reason we’re here," the senior in yellow declared, tossing the club to the ground with a sickening thud.

Ruthar’s breath caught in his throat as he saw who the club had been used on.

"P—Pery?" Logan stammered, his voice breaking as he recognized their friend.

Pery was crucified on a cross, his body battered and broken, the club and other sharp instruments having inflicted inhumane torture. The sight was horrific, a cruel testament to the second years' ruthlessness.

From the bruises and gashes marring his body, it was clear that Pery had put up a fight. He must have gone against them alone, and paid the price.

'This fucker is dead!' Ruthar’s hand moved instinctively to his hilt, anger boiling over. He began to advance, ready to strike when—

Hevin grabbed his arm, holding him back. "Don’t do it yet," she whispered urgently. "We still have a lot of information to gather before we can interfere. We need to know why they’ve gathered all the first years... It’s not just about you and me, Ruthar. It’s everyone’s fate."

Her words barely managed to restrain Ruthar, though he remained defiant, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. Logan, meanwhile, kept his calm, his eyes locked on the platform, burning with quiet fury.

All they could do now was listen, their anger and hatred growing with every word the senior spoke.

"I am Luggard! The king of all second years, and I own this academy," the senior in yellow began, his voice filled with arrogance. "To earn this position, I’ve crushed many from my own year, making countless sacrifices. Now, many of you have grown defiant, forgetting your place. Do you think I went through all that just for some idiot with a heritage to start troubling me?"

"No, Lord Luggard!" the second years chorused in unison, their voices ringing with an eerie loyalty.

The scene was nothing short of slavery.

"So, there’s a long history I have with a particular family... the Darkdawns! The cursed family!" Luggard continued, his voice filled with venom. He lifted his shirt, revealing a grotesque scar on his stomach, the sight of it causing a ripple of discomfort among the first years.

"The guy who did this to me was a senior at this school, Tomaha Darkdawn! Is this even considered human?"

"Not at all, Lord Luggard!" the second years chanted, their voices echoing in the large hall.

'So, that’s what this is all about,' Ruthar realized, his mind racing. 'Some sick revenge plan... But why does he need all the first years for it?'

Luggard’s gaze swept over the crowd, his eyes gleaming with madness. "You might all be wondering why I need you here instead of just the Darkdawn. The truth is, I sat down one day and thought carefully about the world... It’s fucked up! You guys never saw the gutters, only lived in some high city and don’t know how messed up this world really is! I have a plan to throw everything into chaos! To promote equality!"

His words sent a cold chill through the room, the weight of his insanity pressing down on every first year present. The air was thick with dread.

Suddenly, Luggard’s eyes locked onto Ruthar, his expression twisted with malevolent glee.

"Come up here, Ruthar Darkdawn," Luggard sneered. "I’ve been waiting for you patiently... It’s time you paid for your sins."

---

This version builds on the suspense, pacing the revelations and conflicts more carefully to heighten tension and draw readers into the unfolding horrors of the story.

Here’s a revised version of Chapter 10, “Bizarre Notification (A Quest),” with enhanced suspense and pacing, designed to keep readers on the edge of their seats:

---

**Chapter 10: Bizarre Notification (A Quest)**

**[Death✓]**

**[Quest 1✓]**

**[Welcome to the Underworld]**

Axel's eyes snapped open, the cold, unyielding text of the notification searing into his brain. 'The underworld? How the hell is that possible?'

He shot to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest as he checked his body for injuries. To his astonishment, every wound from the battle was gone, not even a scar remained. His muscles felt strong, his senses sharp. He was... healed?

‘I thought I died. I did die. So why am I still here?’ Panic surged through him as he scanned the dark, enclosed space for clues about his location. But there was nothing, no sign of life, no way out. He was trapped in some kind of cave, the faint, eerie light barely illuminating the jagged rocks around him.

And then there were the notifications, hovering in his vision, impossible to ignore.

**[Quest: Kill the Boss of the Entrance]**

**[You have received a weapon. Would you like to view it?]**

Axel’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. The words floating before him were alien, yet somehow familiar. It was too much to process, too surreal to accept—but what choice did he have? He had to survive, no matter how bizarre this was.

"Uh... Can you display my weapon?" Axel asked hesitantly, his voice echoing in the dark cavern.

The response was immediate.

**[Weapon: War-Damaged Dagger (User has been proficient with daggers for years according to bio. This is the best weapon that suits you.)]**

'At least the system seems to know me,' Axel thought, though it did little to ease his nerves. But where was the weapon?

His question was answered as the dagger materialized before him, hovering in midair. Axel grabbed it instinctively as it dropped, the cold steel sending a shiver up his spine. The blade was worn and rusted, its edge jagged and scarred from countless battles—but it was still sharp. Deadly sharp.

‘A brown hilt and a tough blade... this could fetch some decent cash back on Earth,’ Axel mused, weighing the dagger in his hand with a merchant's instinct. But his thoughts were interrupted by a low, guttural growl that sent a chill down his spine.

A few yards away, a beast emerged from the shadows. It was like nothing Axel had ever seen—a monstrous, dog-like creature with enormous fangs dripping with saliva, its bulky frame covered in thick, spiked armor. Its eyes gleamed with a primal hunger, and its breath came in ragged, menacing huffs.

‘What the hell is this thing?’ Axel's hands trembled as he gripped the dagger tighter, his legs shaking uncontrollably. The beast was unlike any alien or monster he had ever encountered. It was something far worse.

**[Hellish Hound: Easy-Grade Beast]**

“Easy?!” Axel spat out incredulously, but there was no time to question the absurdity of it.

The Hellish Hound roared, launching itself at Axel with terrifying speed, its jaws wide open, aiming straight for his throat.

“Damn it!” Axel cursed, barely managing to sidestep the beast’s lunge. The hound missed him by inches, its razor-sharp fangs tearing through his clothing, leaving a shallow gash on his side.

He winced, blood trickling down his side, but there was no time to recover. The Hellish Hound was on him again in an instant, its claws slashing through the air.

Axel raised his dagger in a desperate attempt to block the attack. The blade met the hound’s claws with a resounding clash, sending a shower of sparks into the darkness. The force of the blow nearly knocked Axel off his feet, and he staggered back, struggling to keep his balance.

Breathing heavily, Axel stared at the beast, his eyes wide with fear. ‘I’m already out of breath... I’m not going to survive this...’ The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, his mind flashing back to every moment of failure, every time he had relied on someone else to save him.

He barely managed to parry another attack, the force of it driving him to his knees. ‘Why am I so weak?’ His thoughts spiraled into despair, every ounce of confidence slipping away. ‘It’s happening again... I’m always relying on others... I’m always looking for someone’s help... But no... Not this time...’

“ARRGGGGHHHHHHHH!” Axel roared, the sound echoing off the cavern walls as he pushed himself to his feet, his fear burning away in the fire of his determination. This time, he wouldn’t run. This time, he would fight.

The Hellish Hound lunged at him again, its eyes glowing with murderous intent, but Axel was ready. He dodged the beast’s charge, the movement instinctive, and before it could recover, he surged forward, his dagger gripped tightly in both hands.

With a primal scream, Axel plunged the dagger into the Hellish Hound’s skull, the blade cutting through bone with a sickening crunch. The beast let out a final, anguished howl before collapsing to the ground, dead.

“I... I did it,” Axel gasped, his body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. He shoved the hound’s corpse off his dagger, the blood dripping from the blade pooling at his feet. He had survived. Somehow, against all odds, he had survived.

**[You have killed a Hellish Hound]**

**[5 EXP gained]**

**[5/5 EXP]**

**[You have leveled up]**

**[Would you like to see your stats?]**

Axel’s eyes widened as the notifications appeared. ‘Leveled up? Is this some kind of RPG?’ The absurdity of it all almost made him laugh, but there was no denying the reality of the blood on his hands, the dead beast at his feet.

“Display my stats,” he whispered, needing to understand just what had happened to him.

---

**//Stats//**

**Name: Axel Teras**

**EXP: 0/50**

**Level: 1**

**Job Class: None**

**Strength: 2**

**Agility: 2**

**Senses: 2**

**Mana: 2**

**Health: 10**

**No stat points available now. All attributes have been given a bonus of two stat points.**

---

‘Just like I thought... It’s a system, like in an RPG,’ Axel thought, staring at the stats in disbelief. But this wasn’t some game. The blood under his shoes, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins—this was real. All too real.

**[Congratulations on healing your traumatic experience of reliance. A gift will be awarded after this quest.]**

Axel’s heart skipped a beat at the promise of a reward. But before he could even begin to wonder what it might be, a chorus of growls rose from the darkness.

Dozens of Hellish Hounds emerged from the shadows, their eyes glowing with malice, their fangs bared, and their claws ready to tear him apart.

Axel tightened his grip on the dagger, his heart racing as the beasts closed in on him from all sides. There was no escape. There was no help. This was it.

“From the looks of things,” he muttered under his breath, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and determination, “I’ve got my hands full.”

And then, with no other choice, Axel charged forward, ready to fight for his life.

---

This version builds tension with each line, drawing readers deeper into Axel’s terrifying predicament. The pacing keeps the action intense and relentless, mirroring the life-or-death stakes Axel faces.

**Chapter 86: Execution Layout... Insanity**

Logan's face darkened as he heard Luggard's command. The worst part was watching Ruthar immediately obey, walking forward with a determined stride that sent a chill down Logan's spine.

'I can't let Ruthar face this alone...' Logan thought, his body tensing as he prepared to move forward, but Hevin grabbed his arm, her grip firm.

"Don't do it. You're no match for them in this state," she whispered urgently, her eyes pleading with him to reconsider.

Logan knew she was right. He was in no condition to fight, but the thought of standing by and watching another friend get hurt, especially at the hands of the merciless second years, was unbearable.

"I can't just stand here and do nothing," Logan retorted, his voice trembling with frustration as he shrugged off Hevin's hand. "If that's what beast people do, then so be it!" He took a step forward, but Kravin moved to block his path.

"Don't be stupid, flesh bag!" Kravin's voice was low but commanding. "Your friend clearly has a plan. I can smell it—he's scheming something. You'll have your chance for violence when the time comes."

Logan hesitated, Kravin's words echoing in his mind. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to charge forward. After a few agonizing seconds, he exhaled and forced himself to calm down. All he could do now was stand in the crowd, his heart pounding with worry and hope.

'I hope you know what you're doing, Ruthar.'

Meanwhile, Ruthar stood on the platform, facing Luggard, who was only a few feet away. The air between them was thick with tension, a palpable dread that seemed to hang over the entire gathering.

'I recognize this guy from the novel, but he never gave off such an ill vibe before... What happened to him?' Ruthar wondered, his mind racing as he studied Luggard.

Luggard sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Man, the Darkdawns have a weird stench—like blood and rotting corpses. It's all that follows your existence."

Ruthar crossed his arms, his expression calm and confident. "I thought you wanted to kill me. What's taking you so long? Fight me."

His challenge was met with a chortle from Luggard, who seemed genuinely amused. "You Darkdawns are crazy strong. Do you really think I'll fight someone with over a hundred thousand soul energy?"

Ruthar's teeth clenched in anger, his patience wearing thin.

"I'll make you hurt your friend first," Luggard continued, his grin widening, "and then I'll kill you. After you've suffered enough, of course."

The second years erupted into laughter, their deranged cackles filling the air with a sense of impending doom. Even the ruthless bullies among the first years began to tremble with fear, their bravado crumbling under the weight of Luggard's twisted threats.

Ruthar frowned, the conditions were truly cruel, but did he have a choice? Or could he find another way?

"And what if I don't do what you ask?" Ruthar asked, his voice steady, though each word was carefully measured. He knew he was dealing with a psychopath and needed to tread carefully.

Luggard burst into another deranged fit of laughter, his body shaking as tears streamed down his face. "You're a scholar, right?" he asked, his tone mockingly condescending.

Ruthar's glare was his only response, but it was enough to prompt Luggard to continue.

"Are you familiar with Realms?" Luggard's question hung in the air, dripping with menace.

'Realms? Aren't those gateways to different dimensions? The demon's dimension, the elves', and other races... The darkest of the dark could be accessed through these gateways. Is that what he's threatening me with—a gateway to another world filled with endless evils?' Ruthar's thoughts spiraled as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him.

His throat went dry, and his vision blurred for a moment as fear took hold. "Are you planning to open a Realm portal here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The crowd reacted with gasps and murmurs, their anxiety palpable.

"Ahhh! He's going to open a Realm here."

"He must be bluffing."

"If he does that, everyone—including himself—will die."

"This bastard is... insane."

Luggard's giggles cut through the crowd's panic, a sound so chilling it sent shivers down Ruthar's spine. "Not just any Realm gate, but a demon Realm gate," Luggard announced with a sadistic glee.

Ruthar's heart sank. The depth of Luggard's insanity was now painfully clear. 'This guy is a complete psychopath.'

"Now, I'd like you to keep your end of the deal and listen," Luggard continued, his voice cold and calculating. "Unless you want everyone here to suffer."

The crowd's panic intensified, their voices blending into a cacophony of fear and desperation.

"Please, do what he says, Darkdawn."

"It's either the pervert or us! Please, kill him."

"I don't want to die!"

"What are you waiting for, fucker? Don't just stand there."

The weight of their pleas pressed down on Ruthar. Two lives, or the entire population? It was an impossible choice, but one he had to make.

"Fine, you win," Ruthar muttered, his voice hollow as he bowed his head in defeat.

A second year stepped forward, handing Ruthar three small knives. He took them with trembling hands, studying the blades.

"Mana-imbued blades?" Ruthar recognized them instantly, his mind racing with the implications.

Luggard laughed, pleased that Ruthar could see the significance of the weapons. "I'll give you a simple task," he said, stepping closer, his voice dripping with sadism. "A target practice a Darkdawn should be able to achieve." He winked at Ruthar, a gesture so twisted it made Ruthar's skin crawl. "Throw the first knife into his throat. That should be a slow but painful way to die—first choking, then we'll go straight for his gut. Two origins of pain will make it even more unbearable... And the last will be—"

**SPLOOOSH!**

The entire crowd gasped in unison, their collective breath catching in their throats. The second years froze, their expressions of smug confidence melting into shock and disbelief.

"AHHHHHHHH!!! KAYAAAHHHHK!!!!!" Luggard screamed, clutching the knife lodged in his eye socket. Blood gushed from the wound as he frantically pulled the blade free, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

In the split second too fast for anyone to see, Ruthar had hurled the knife with deadly precision, embedding it deep into Luggard's eye. He knew the consequences of his defiance, but it didn't matter.

"You see, Luggard," Ruthar's voice was cold, his eyes blazing with a dark, unyielding resolve as he dropped the remaining knives, letting them clatter to the floor. Dark waves of mana began to emanate from his body, rippling through the air with a menacing force. "I'm no different from you. I don't care about any of the idiots gathered here. If they all die, then so be it."

Ruthar took a step forward, his presence now towering and ominous. "As long as I kill you."

Here's an enhanced version of the chapter, with the fight scenes made more vivid and suspenseful, and expanded to 1100 words:

---

**Chapter 87: Battle for the Academy**

Ruthar felt the surge of power coursing through him as he activated his abilities, each one bringing him closer to the peak of his potential.

**[Lord of Things Activated]**

**[Demon Eyes of Foresight Activated]**

**[Fourth Sense Activated]**

**[Dragon Output Activated]**

**[Roar of the Mighty]**

The ground beneath Ruthar seemed to tremble as he summoned the full extent of his power. Mana began to swirl around him, creating a tempest of energy that crackled in the air. He knew that facing the second years would be no easy feat. Even though he was capable of taking them down one by one, facing a dozen at once would be a challenge he had never encountered before.

He couldn't afford to hold back.

“Now that’s settled, let’s kill each other!” Ruthar shouted, his voice booming like thunder.

In an instant, a senior launched at him from the side, his red flaming sword blazing as it cut through the air, accompanied by a wave of Mana so intense that Ruthar could feel the heat threatening to sear his skin.

“Too weak!” Ruthar’s speed skyrocketed, and in a blur of motion, he struck first. His blade pierced through the senior’s skull, exiting the other side with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered across the ground as the senior collapsed lifelessly.

There was no time to pause. Another senior, this one more cautious, blasted a large wave of green Mana at Ruthar. He raised his blade just in time, blocking the attack. But the force behind it was staggering, sending him skidding back several feet. His mind reeled as he struggled to keep his balance. A strange dizziness washed over him, his vision blurring and doubling.

‘What sort of ability is this? Some kind of soul energy…’

**[Your stamina has been halved]**

**[A deadly skill has been used, it will take time to adapt]**

Ruthar’s breath caught in his throat as another senior seized the opportunity, charging at him with a massive wooden club glowing with the senior's Mana. Disoriented and struggling to focus, Ruthar couldn’t react in time. The club slammed into his chest with a bone-shattering force, sending him flying through the air. He managed to twist mid-flight, landing on his feet, but the impact left him clutching his side in agony.

“The brat won’t go down easy,” the senior muttered, eyeing Ruthar with a mixture of respect and frustration. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

**[A triple attack has been used on you. The more attacks this person gives you, the more your body starts to lose stamina.]**

**[HP: 70/150]**

Ruthar snarled at the notifications flashing in his mind. It was a well-planned assault. If the first attacker hadn’t been killed, they might have overwhelmed him by now. This must have been the same strategy they used to subdue Pery. The realization sent a cold shiver down his spine.

**[Dragon Output has increased stamina by ten]**

**[Dragon Output has sensed your strain and has begun to reboot and boost your strength by the amount of will you possess.]**

**[Time to reboot: 10 seconds]**

‘Ten seconds? That’s too long—’

Before he could finish the thought, the senior with the heavy club was upon him again, raising the weapon high overhead to deliver a crushing blow to Ruthar’s skull. There was no time to dodge, no room to counter. The attack was certain to kill him.

*SPLAKKK!*

A geyser of blood erupted into the air as the senior’s body crumpled to the ground, headless. Logan stood behind him, his sword dripping with crimson. His expression was calm, almost detached, but as the realization of what he had just done settled in, his eyes widened in horror.

“I… I killed a human,” Logan murmured, his voice trembling.

Ruthar, still reeling from the attack, forced a smile despite the pain.

“That was close… Don’t feel bad, Logan. It was either me or him, and you made the right choice. But we’re not done yet.”

Before Ruthar could say more, Logan’s instincts kicked in. He spun around, parrying a green Mana strike that came from another senior. The force of the attack made him stagger back, but he held his ground.

“You bastard! How dare you kill my buddy!” the senior roared, charging at Logan with his sword held high, fury blazing in his eyes.

There was no way Logan could react in time after being struck with—

But Logan moved with lightning speed, raising his sword to parry the blow. The senior’s expression twisted in shock.

“What the…?”

“I’m immune to tricks like that, idiot,” Logan growled, his voice laced with anger. He thrust his leg forward, aiming to kick the senior away. But his attack was too slow, too predictable. The senior sidestepped with ease, laughing mockingly.

“You really thought that would harm me? Pathetic.”

Logan smirked, his eyes narrowing.

“No, it bought time for the true monster to awaken.”

The senior’s mocking laughter died in his throat as, in a split second, Ruthar’s blade sliced through his neck. His head flew into the air, landing with a dull thud at Logan’s feet.

‘Thanks, Logan. That was a good enough distraction,’ Ruthar thought, his mind sharp despite the weariness settling into his bones.

**[You have regained most of your stats]**

**[Dragon Output 15%]**

‘At this rate, I’ll barely scratch the surface of my Soul energy and Dragon Output,’ Ruthar thought, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield.

The first years were holding their own, revolting against the second years with surprising ferocity. Not all of them, but enough to make a difference. Even the beast twins were wreaking havoc, their savage strength turning the tide of the battle.

Ruthar’s eyes narrowed as they found Pery and Luggard, still locked in a fierce struggle. But now, a new threat loomed before him—a towering figure, a second year with the massive build of a giant and the brutish features of an orc. His muscles bulged with raw power, and his presence exuded a terrifying menace.

“I’m Kigor, one of Lord Luggard’s generals,” the giant rumbled, his voice deep and menacing. “You must be the enemy.”

Ruthar’s heart pounded in his chest as he faced the towering figure. This was no ordinary opponent. Kigor’s sheer size and power made him a force to be reckoned with. Ruthar knew he had to finish this quickly, before Luggard regained his strength and decided to unleash something even more devastating.

The battlefield seemed to freeze as Ruthar and Kigor locked eyes, both preparing for the clash that would decide the fate of the academy.

---

This expanded version increases the tension and impact of the fight scenes while adding depth to the characters' emotions and thoughts. The language is vivid, aiming to draw the reader deeper into the action and suspense.

Here's an enhanced version of Chapter 88, with the action scenes made more vivid, the language more powerful, and expanded to 1200 words:

---

**Chapter 88: General What... Are You Not a Monster?**

Hevin and Kravin moved in perfect sync, a seamless dance of strategy and agility as they took down multiple second years with ruthless efficiency. Their movements were fluid, a combination of precise strikes and tactical maneuvers that left their enemies bewildered. Unlike many others who relied on powerful Mana or soul energy, the twins wielded raw tactics with deadly effectiveness.

They had fought their way through the ranks, inching ever closer to a new, formidable foe.

“Is this the best you two can do?” A deep, mocking voice echoed through the air, and Hevin felt a shiver run down her spine just before she was slammed into the ground with bone-jarring force. The impact rattled her entire body, and she struggled to push herself up, spitting out a small amount of blood that had pooled in her mouth.

Her sister, Kravin, wasn’t faring any better. She had barely gotten to her feet when she was hurled down again, gasping for air as the wind was knocked out of her lungs.

Hevin licked the blood off her lips, standing up in a hunched posture as she glared at their towering opponent. The creature before them was a grotesque hybrid—a crossbreed between a minotaur and an ogre. His body was a twisted amalgamation of brute strength and terrifying bulk, his presence alone enough to cast a shadow over the battlefield.

“Come on, ladies,” the crossbreed taunted with a twisted grin. “Shake things up a bit more, and maybe I’ll let you off the hook.”

“You perverted piece of trash!” Hevin snarled, baring her fangs in anger. Every word from him stoked the flames of her fury.

Kravin, now back on her feet, quickly assessed the situation. Their opponent was unlike any they had faced before. His sheer size and strength were overwhelming, and every attempt to find a weak spot had ended in failure. Still, there was no choice but to keep pushing forward.

“I guess we have no choice but to keep hitting this guy until we shatter his armor,” Kravin said through gritted teeth, determination blazing in her eyes.

“Please,” the crossbreed rumbled, his voice thick with amusement. “I already told you my name. I am Void, a general of Lord Luggard.”

Void’s laughter echoed ominously as Hevin and Kravin shared a glance. This was going to be a battle unlike any other.

---

**[Lord of Things]**

Ruthar’s palms glowed with an intense light as he reformed two swords in his hands. His eyes narrowed, taking in the monstrous figure of Kigor, a towering beast of a man who seemed to be the embodiment of raw, unyielding power. Ruthar knew he couldn’t afford to be careless.

With a swift motion, Ruthar dodged a massive, rock-hard fist that dug a deep gorge into the ground where he had been standing just moments before.

“You big oaf!” Ruthar snarled as he saw an opening. Seizing the moment, he sprinted forward with all his might, his twin swords gleaming as he aimed for Kigor’s wrist. He slashed down with all the strength he could muster, hoping to sever the beast’s hand.

To his shock, the sword in his left hand shattered upon impact, the thick skin of Kigor’s wrist proving too tough. All Ruthar managed was a shallow scratch.

‘Damn it! This guy’s a demon—’

Kigor’s elbow shot out with terrifying speed, aiming for Ruthar’s face. Reacting instinctively, Ruthar ducked, letting the blow whistle over his head. The violent gust of wind that followed sent a chill down his spine.

Ruthar backpedaled, narrowly avoiding another fist aimed at his face. The air pressure alone from the attack made him stagger, his senses screaming at the sheer power behind each of Kigor’s strikes.

‘This guy’s a juggernaut. I can’t win against him with conventional weapons,’ Ruthar thought, his mind racing. ‘I’ve already lost my main sword and several others I absorbed into my body. Losing more would leave me vulnerable.’

Kigor’s movements became a blur of speed as he hurled a fist at Ruthar, the ground shaking with the force behind it.

“Tsk!” Ruthar hissed as he barely sidestepped, thanks to the Eye of Foresight predicting the attack just in time. But he wasn’t out of danger yet.

Kigor had already snatched up a massive club from the ground and sent it hurtling toward Ruthar with incredible velocity. The club was too fast for Ruthar to dodge, so he raised both arms in a desperate block.

*CRACK!*

A deafening sound filled the air as the club connected, sending Ruthar flying like a ragdoll. His body smashed into the wall of the assembly hall, leaving a gaping hole in the structure.

“AHHHKK!” Ruthar choked, blood spewing from his mouth as he collapsed to his knees. His arms dangled uselessly at his sides, reduced to little more than broken powder beneath his skin.

‘Shit! He got me…’ Ruthar’s mind raced as he fought to stay conscious. ‘I thought his soul energy was just for hardening his skin, but it’s more than that. Orcs have high resistance to magic, and he has an endless amount of Mana compared to a regular human.’

**[You have adapted… Healing will take four seconds due to wound fatality.]**

Ruthar’s eyes never left Kigor as the monstrous general approached, his massive frame casting a shadow over the fallen warrior.

Kigor placed one foot before the other, drawing back his upper body to gather momentum. With a roar, he launched the club in his hand at Ruthar with the speed of a bullet.

A sonic boom echoed through the assembly hall, the force of the throw creating a shockwave that rattled the walls.

‘So fast!’ Ruthar’s Fourth Sense and instincts screamed as he tried to dodge the incoming attack.

*BOOOOM!*

The entire assembly hall trembled as the club made contact, sending debris flying in all directions. Dust and rubble filled the air, and in the midst of the destruction lay Ruthar, his body battered and broken.

**[HP: 30/150]**

Ruthar’s vision blurred as the notification flashed before his eyes. He had barely survived the attack. The club hadn’t hit him directly, but the sheer force of the impact against the wall had created a wind pressure that almost crushed his entire body.

‘Luckily, I’m not that easy to kill…’ Ruthar thought, gritting his teeth as he willed his body to heal.

**[Dragon Output has sped regeneration… You have boosted your power by ten stat points temporarily.]**

**[Dragon Output: 50%]**

**[You have adapted fully.]**

Ruthar’s wounds knitted themselves together, his broken bones realigning and mending with a speed that defied logic. Within moments, he was back on his feet, though the pain still lingered.

He climbed to his feet with a new sense of determination burning in his chest, his eyes locked onto Kigor.

“You survived that? Good,” Kigor gurgled, his voice a thunderous growl. “I’ve been searching for strong opponents for a long time. Finally, I’ve found you.”

Ruthar wiped the blood from his lips, a dangerous smile curling at the edges of his mouth. ‘This is the competition I’ve been searching for in the academy,’ he thought, his heart pounding with adrenaline.

Pointing a balled fist at Kigor, Ruthar’s voice was cold and resolute. “Now, it’s time for me to show you what true strength looks like…”

---

This expanded version intensifies the action, deepens the characters' internal struggles, and sets the stage for an epic confrontation. The language is more vivid and powerful, aiming to create a more immersive and thrilling experience for the reader.

Here’s the enhanced version of Chapter 89, with more vivid, realistic, and suspenseful action scenes expanded to 1200 words:

---

**Chapter 89: Dragon Output... Luggard**

"That's good. You're finally using your full power," Ruthar muttered, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the monstrous figure before him.

**[Eye of Extraction has failed to copy innate skill Kigor possesses.]**

**[Analytic bit ability: Immense body evolution, armor.]**

**[Weakness: Shattering his armor.]**

'That should be easy…' Ruthar thought, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. A surge of determination coursed through him, fueling his resolve.

"Fine! I'll kill you with my full strength!" Kigor bellowed, his voice a thunderous roar that echoed through the battlefield. With a mighty battle cry, he broke into a sprint, moving at an astonishing speed that seemed impossible for someone of his size. He covered a vast distance within seconds, each step shaking the ground beneath him.

'He's agile for his size,' Ruthar noted, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

Kigor was almost upon him when Ruthar suddenly unleashed a primal roar that reverberated through the air, a sound that carried the weight of raw, unbridled power.

**[Roar of the Mighty]**

As the sound of Ruthar's roar reached Kigor’s ears, the towering brute faltered, his charge slowing as confusion flashed across his face. The hesitation was brief but enough. Kigor nearly stumbled, his footing momentarily lost.

Ruthar seized the opportunity without hesitation. He catapulted himself into the air with blinding speed, thrusting a hardened elbow directly into Kigor’s jaw. The impact was devastating, sending Kigor staggering back several steps, momentarily dazed by the force of the blow.

“What the hell was that?!” Kigor growled, his voice laced with anger as he struggled to regain his composure. His massive palm swiped at Ruthar, aiming to swat him down like a mere insect.

Ruthar twisted his body mid-air, narrowly evading the powerful strike. He spun gracefully before landing softly on his feet, his eyes never leaving Kigor as the attack whistled harmlessly past him. But there was no time to relax—danger still loomed.

Kigor, now seething with rage, raised his heavy left foot and brought it down with earth-shattering force, aiming to crush Ruthar’s skull beneath it.

Ruthar raised both arms in a defensive block, the muscles in his arms straining as he absorbed the impact. To his surprise, he managed to hold his ground.

“What the hell is this? How—” Kigor stammered, his voice betraying a hint of fear as he watched Ruthar’s expression darken, an ominous aura radiating from him.

“When you choose an opponent, you should know how much of a superior he can become in a few seconds!” Ruthar hissed, his voice cold and menacing. Without warning, he grabbed Kigor’s left arm, his grip like iron, and twisted it sharply in the opposite direction.

A sickening crack echoed through the air as the bone shattered, the joint dislocating with a gruesome pop. Kigor let out a bloodcurdling scream, clutching the stump of his arm as he staggered backward, his once fearsome demeanor crumbling.

But Ruthar was far from done. Leaving Kigor in this state would still pose a significant threat. He lunged forward with a burst of speed and slammed his shoulder into Kigor’s gut, the impact resounding like a cannon blast. The force of the blow sent Kigor crashing to the ground, his back slamming into the earth with a thunderous impact.

To Ruthar’s satisfaction, the layer of armor covering Kigor’s gut shattered upon impact, fragments of glass-like material scattering across the ground. It was as if the armor had been no more than a brittle shell before the fury of a dragon.

‘Just like a turtle… facing a dragon,’ Ruthar thought, a fierce smile playing on his lips as he approached the writhing Kigor.

Kigor, still squirming in pain with his arm hanging uselessly at his side, struggled to regain his composure. But Ruthar wasn’t about to give him any respite.

Ruthar moved in closer, positioning himself over Kigor’s prone form. With a deadly precision, he began stomping down on Kigor’s face, each blow delivered with bone-crunching force. The sickening sound of cracking bones filled the air, accompanied by a torrent of blood that spewed from Kigor’s shattered features. The brutal stomps muffled the beast’s screams, turning them into pitiful, gurgling cries.

“I’ll make sure to take you down slowly and painfully,” Ruthar growled, his voice filled with venom. “Because you are a general of that bastard! You will drown in hell, reflecting on the damned cause you supported!” He continued stomping, each strike more vicious than the last until he heard the satisfactory sound of a final, decisive crack.

Kigor’s body went limp, blood pooling around his broken form. Ruthar paused, panting heavily, his fists still clenched as he stared down at the defeated general. The battle had been brutal, but victory was his.

---

Luggard finally managed to calm down after casting a healing spell over his injured eyes. Though the pain subsided, the damage remained—a deep scar that would mark him for life.

"That bastard!" Luggard muttered angrily, his voice a low growl. His eyes burned with fury as he turned to Pery, who was still nailed to the cross, helpless and bound. Luggard’s rage needed an outlet, and he was more than prepared to take it out on the unfortunate Pery.

Grabbing the hilt of his sword, Luggard yanked it free from its scabbard, the blade gleaming menacingly as he advanced toward Pery. His killing intent was palpable, a dark aura that filled the room.

"Now this is perfect!" Luggard laughed maniacally, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I'll kill him here and now and make Ruthar know he was helpless in saving his—"

Suddenly, Luggard's instincts flared. He jerked his head back just in time to see a dagger whizzing past his face, narrowly missing its mark.

"Who dares interrupt—"

*CRACK!*

Lightning seemed to strike within the room, followed by a thunderous boom as a fist connected with Luggard's face. The force of the blow sent him flying into the opposite wall, slamming into it with such force that the stone cracked, forming a deep gouge where his body hit.

“KUEEEKKKK!!!” Luggard coughed violently, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he struggled to regain his composure. Pain radiated through his body, his head spinning as he tried to focus.

He lifted his gaze to see his attacker, and a twisted grin spread across his bloodied face.

“What a coincidence… You finally came.”

Rotexa stood in the center of the room, her bloodied fist still clenched. "You rotten bastard!" she snarled, her eyes blazing with fury. Her gaze shifted to Pery, her heart tightening at the sight of his tortured form. Despite her hardened exterior, she felt a pang of pity for him. No one deserved to suffer like this—not even a slave.

‘This is the first time I’ve ever taken pity on anyone…’ she thought, her expression softening for a brief moment before hardening once more.

"Feel lucky, pervert!" Rotexa smirked, cracking her knuckles as she prepared for the fight. "Your savior is here."

Luggard pushed himself to his feet, his body already beginning to heal, though the pain lingered. "That smile… You must be happy to have met a powerful enemy," he sneered, wiping the blood from his lips. "You disgusting Darkdawn."

Rotexa ignored his taunt, her focus entirely on the battle ahead. ‘Thank goodness we made it here in time. If not, things would have gone sideways fast. The weaklings were already losing…’ She spared a glance at Ruthar, who was still locked in combat, his movements precise and deadly as he snapped the arm of another second-year backward. He was doing better than ever.

‘Watch me, Ruthar… I'll also fight someone insanely strong.’

"Now, idiot," Rotexa's smile widened into a feral grin, her excitement palpable. "Show me why you think you're the strongest."

---

This version amplifies the intensity of the action scenes, adding depth and realism to the characters' emotions and interactions while expanding the narrative to create a more engaging and suspenseful chapter.

Here’s the enhanced version of Chapter 90, with more vivid, suspenseful action scenes expanded to 1200 words:

---

**Chapter 90: Insanely Strong... The Third General**

Pery’s mind drifted into a swirl of memories, voices echoing in his head, taunting him.

‘Hey perverted dude!’

‘What a disgrace you are to the family... Are you really one of us? At your age, I wasn’t a virgin... Are you sure you want to be an Exorcist? Fine, waste your life, Pery... You are one of Ruthar’s friends? Come with us... Ruthar will suffer for your weakness...’

Pery’s eyes snapped open weakly, the chaotic battle between the second years and first years raging before him. The unwelcoming sight of war met his blurry vision, and dread settled in his heart.

Only one thought dominated his mind—*We’re all going to die if we don’t stop that maniac.*

He recalled one of the few chilling words Luggard had whispered before crucifying him.

‘The Realms will be opened no matter what. I’ve already set them all to an hour, and the only way to shut it down is to kill me. If not, it’s not just the academy that will be at stake.’

The gravity of the situation hit Pery like a tidal wave. They had no time to waste.

---

"You think I don't have it all under control?" Luggard sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "But you've already heard my plan—"

Before Luggard could finish his taunt, Rotexa was upon him, her sword swinging out with deadly precision, aiming to cleave him in half.

But Luggard was no novice. He jumped backward with blinding speed, evading the strike by mere inches as Rotexa’s blade sliced through empty air, leaving her momentarily vulnerable.

"Don't you want to hear my crazy plan?" Luggard taunted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"No!" Rotexa snapped, her voice filled with venomous resolve.

"Really? Are you sure?" Luggard teased, his tone mocking as he readied his stance, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

"Shut up and die!" Rotexa roared, lunging at him with greater speed than before, her blade aimed directly at his throat. Luggard barely managed to raise his sword in time, the clash of steel ringing out as he blocked the lethal blow.

The impact jarred Luggard, but it also created an opening. Rotexa wasted no time, her leg swinging up in a fluid motion, delivering a powerful kick to Luggard’s gut.

“Ahhh!” Luggard grunted, the force of the kick knocking the wind out of him, his stance faltering. But Rotexa didn’t hesitate; she pressed her advantage.

In a burst of golden light, Rotexa’s body glowed as she channeled her mana, the air around her crackling with energy. She launched herself at Luggard again, her sword slicing through the air with lethal intent. This time, she aimed directly for his throat, her speed nearly blurring her form.

Luggard managed to block the attack, but the force behind it made his blade tremble in his grasp, almost slipping from his grip. His eyes widened in shock.

*What kind of monstrous strength does she possess?* he thought, a sliver of fear creeping into his mind.

“I’m not done yet!” Rotexa growled, her attacks becoming a whirlwind of slashes, each strike faster and more powerful than the last. Her movements were so rapid they were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye.

Luggard was forced on the defensive, blocking each strike by a hair's breadth, his calm demeanor slipping as he realized he couldn’t keep up. The relentless onslaught left him with no opportunity to counterattack. He was being driven back, step by step.

Then, in a moment of sheer speed and precision, Rotexa’s blade slipped past his defense, carving a deep gash into his gut.

“AHH-hkkk!” Luggard’s expression twisted from playful arrogance to pure rage, the pain igniting a dark fury within him.

“You brat!” he roared, his body suddenly enveloped in a dark red aura of malevolent energy. In a swift motion, he grabbed Rotexa by the collar and, with a roar of anger, hurled her into the air with the force of a cannon shot.

Rotexa grunted as she was flung skyward, her body twisting in mid-air as she struggled to regain control. She flipped backward, landing gracefully on her feet despite the force of the throw.

But Luggard was relentless. Before Rotexa could fully recover, he was already upon her, his fist crashing into her face with the force of a sledgehammer, sending her flying into the nearest wall.

“Ahhhh!” Rotexa cried out, the impact sending shockwaves of pain reverberating through her body. She could feel the wall crack behind her from the sheer force of the blow.

“You want a real fight? You want to see how the strongest fight? Then I’ll show you my full strength!” Luggard’s voice was a menacing growl as he spread his arms wide, his dark mana swirling around him like a storm, amplifying his already terrifying presence.

Rotexa struggled to her feet, wiping the blood from her mouth, her eyes burning with determination. “I thought you would keep playing until I took off your head, idiot—”

Her words caught in her throat as a massive, giant-sized hand suddenly burst from the wall behind her, reaching out to grab her with bone-crushing force.

Rotexa barely had time to react. She dodged to the side, but the hand’s grip was already closing in. It was a trap—Luggard’s plan all along.

She spun around just in time to see Luggard charging at her, his sword poised to pierce her flesh. The giant hand had been a distraction, a means to restrain her while he delivered the killing blow.

*No! He’s so hellbent on making Ruthar hurt that he doesn’t even see me… This bastard!*

*SPLOOSH!*

A sudden spray of blood filled the air as the attack hit its mark. But it wasn’t Rotexa’s blood.

Rotexa’s eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat. “S—so close,” she gasped, grabbing Luggard by the shoulder and twisting her body to evade the deadly thrust of his sword, barely managing to avoid the fatal strike.

‘I almost got stabbed if not for him…’

She turned her head to see Pery, his body drenched in blood as he tore the giant’s arm apart with a feral snarl, shredding it into pieces.

“Now… I’ll show you I’m not someone you can look away from while fighting, you bastard!” Rotexa spat, her grip tightening on Luggard as she prepared to counterattack.

Meanwhile, the giant who had emerged from the wall glared at Pery, its eyes burning with murderous intent. Its bulk was even more imposing than the one Ruthar had faced, its twisted appearance and dark mana radiating pure malice.

“How dare you hurt Tran the Conqueror, General!” the giant roared, its voice shaking the very walls of the chamber.

Pery’s expression darkened, a cold fury settling over him. “It’s no longer that fool in the driver’s seat,” he hissed, his voice laced with deadly intent. “I suggest you watch your mouth, mortal!”

“Mortal? Who do you think you are, flesh sack?!” Tran sneered, his confidence unshaken. He was a second-year, a seasoned warrior with years of training and experience. There was no way he could lose—or so he thought.

“I’m the Demon of Dark Souls!” Pery snarled, his eyes glowing with an unholy light as he unleashed his true power.

Tran’s expression faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. *Did he just say Demon of Dark Souls? That cursed family…*

The battlefield was set, and the real fight was about to begin. The Third General had arrived, and the stakes had never been higher.

---

This version deepens the intensity of the action, enhances the grammar for impact, and adds emotional depth, making the scenes more suspenseful and enthralling while expanding the narrative to **Chapter 86: Execution Layout... Insanity**