We left the Valley of Silence with heavy steps. Even though we had secured the Chronos-Fungus and escaped from Mordred, there was no cheer of victory. The ashen gray sky of the Wasteland seemed to mirror our clouded moods.
Varg and his wolf pack were already gone, leaving us alone on the barren expanse of jagged stone and poisoned soil.
That night, we set up camp behind a rocky hill to shield ourselves from the toxic wind. Lila and Seraphina—mentally and physically exhausted—fell asleep first inside the tent.
Outside, there were only me, Elena, a small campfire I created using the Mark of Ignis, and my Black Pan, which was simmering the last of our dried vegetables along with a few slices of Chronos-Fungus.
"Eat, my lady," I offered, handing her a wooden bowl filled with warm soup. "The mushroom is bitter, but I neutralized it with a bit of forest honey."
Elena sat across the fire, hugging her knees. Part of her silver armor had been removed, revealing bandages on her shoulder from the fight with Mordred. She didn't take the bowl. She only stared into the fire, her gaze hollow.
"I'm not hungry," she replied coldly.
"You need energy. You lost a lot of mana earlier."
Elena looked up sharply. The anger she had restrained inside the cave finally surfaced.
"Energy? You're talking about energy after what you did back in the valley?"
"I saved us, Elena. Mordred was too strong for you at that moment."
"That's not the problem!" Elena suddenly stood, kicking a pebble into the campfire and sending sparks flying. "The problem is how you did it! You used that 'Authority.' You let him take over!"
I slowly set the bowl down on a rock. "That wasn't him. It was still me. I just… borrowed his power for a moment."
"Borrowed?" Elena let out a bitter laugh. She stepped closer and grabbed the torn collar of my shirt.
"Rian, I saw your eyes. Those weren't the eyes of a foolish cook. They were the eyes of a tyrant! Do you think I wasn't afraid? I'm more terrified of watching you turn into a monster than dying by Mordred's blade!"
"Don't talk about dying!" I shouted, knocking her hand away. "Your duty is to live! If I have to become a monster for a moment to make sure you keep breathing, I'll do it a thousand times!"
"And that's exactly what's wrong!" Elena screamed, frustration tears pooling in her eyes.
"Every time you do that, you disappear a little more! Do you think I can live peacefully knowing my life is paid for with your soul? If the price is you becoming a Demon King I'll have to kill one day… then I'd rather have died in that valley!"
Silence. Her words hung in the cold night air.
I froze, my chest tightening. I knew she was right. But my ego—or perhaps my protective instinct—refused to admit I was wrong.
"You're selfish, my lady," I said quietly.
"You're the selfish one, Rian," she shot back. "You won't let me protect you in my own way."
Elena turned away, wiping her tears roughly.
"I'm going to sleep. Don't wake me unless the world ends."
She walked toward the tent.
Three steps later, the ground beneath her cracked open.
SRETTT!
A black shadow stretched out from the fissure, forming a sharp tentacle made of condensed smoke. It was a Void Stalker—a shadow assassin monster that had followed our mana trail from the valley.
"Elena!" I shouted.
She reacted—but a fraction of a second too late, dulled by exhaustion and emotion. She tried to draw her sword, but the shadow tentacle wrapped around her leg first and slammed her hard into the ground.
THUD!
"Ugh!" Elena groaned. Another tentacle emerged, its tip shaped like a massive needle, aiming straight for her unarmored neck.
"DIE, FALSE LIGHT!" a hissing voice echoed from the shadows.
Time seemed to slow.
I saw the needle descend.
I saw Elena's eyes widen in shock.
I saw death looming inches away.
The fear returned—the fear of loss. And with it came the familiar rage. Astaroth's whisper echoed in my head again, offering an instant solution.
"Destroy it… Detonate everything… Let your rage burn it all…"
My blood boiled. The black lines on my arm surged upward, threatening to seize my consciousness.
[Corruption Meter: 2.85% → 3.50% (Rapid Spike)]
No.
I clenched my teeth. If I detonated the area like Astaroth wanted, Elena would be hurt too. I didn't need a nuclear explosion. I needed a scalpel.
"I'm not handing over the steering wheel to you, bastard," I growled at the voice in my head.
"I'm the chef here. You're just the stove."
I closed my eyes briefly, focusing on the lingering bitterness of the Chronos-Fungus on my tongue. I restrained the surge of power, compressed it, forced it into submission.
Instead of letting it explode outward, I channeled it into my arm—then into the handle of the Black Pan.
[System: Forced Synchronization.]
[User has seized control of mana flow.]
[Power Output: Limited to 3%.]
[Mode: Precision Strike.]
I opened my eyes.
They glowed violet—but my pupils were sharp and clear. There was no madness. Only absolute focus.
"Pan… Guillotine Mode."
I threw the Black Pan.
Not a wild throw. It shot forward in a straight line, slicing through the air at sonic speed, leaving a thin violet trail behind it.
The shadow tentacle was less than an inch from Elena's skin when—
CRASH!
The Black Pan struck it—not with blunt force, but severing it cleanly, as if the pan were a spinning laser blade.
"KIEEEKK!" The Void Stalker screamed as its true form was forced out of the shadows.
I didn't stop.
I lunged forward, catching the rebounding pan in my hand and placing myself in front of Elena.
The monster launched another attack, firing thousands of shadow needles.
I raised my left hand. Violet aura wrapped around my palm, forming a small, dense shield.
"Sit," I commanded.
Not a thunderous shout like in the valley—just a calm order, weighted with precisely measured Authority.
Gravitational pressure slammed down on the monster—and only the monster. The ground around it remained intact. Elena felt nothing behind me.
The creature was flattened against the earth, completely immobilized.
"For someone eavesdropping on private conversations," I said coldly, raising the pan high,
"you have terrible manners."
BAM!
I smashed the pan straight down onto its head. The concentrated 3% violet energy obliterated its mana core instantly, reducing it to dust—no excessive explosion.
Silence returned.
My breathing was steady. There was no ravenous hunger. No urge to kill anything else.
I looked at my arm. The black lines stopped at my elbow, glowed faintly, then slowly faded back into what looked like a pale tattoo.
[Corruption Meter: 3.00% (Stable).]
[New Achievement: "Demon King's Appetizer." You have tasted power without being poisoned.]
I turned around.
Elena was still lying on the ground, staring at me wide-eyed. She had seen everything—the violet glow, yes—but also that I… was still me.
I extended my hand.
"Are you alright, my lady?"
She looked at my outstretched hand, then at my face, searching for madness—but finding only genuine concern.
Slowly, she took my hand.
"You… you controlled it."
"Only 3%," I said, pulling her to her feet. "Any more than that and I might start taxing the rocks around here."
She didn't let go of my hand. Instead, she squeezed it tightly, her body still trembling from adrenaline.
"That was… different. You didn't disappear. You were there—controlling the monster."
"I remembered what you said," I replied softly.
"That you were afraid I'd vanish. So I decided not to. I used that fear as… a balancing ingredient."
Elena looked down, hiding her face.
"Idiot. You almost gave me a heart attack twice in one hour."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize." She looked up, a small relieved smile on her lips despite her wet eyes.
"Thank you. For staying Rian."
We sat back down by the campfire. The mushroom soup had gone lukewarm, but Elena took it anyway and finished it without complaint.
That night, in the midst of the deadly Wasteland, a new understanding formed between us. Astaroth's power was a curse—but if I could slice it into small portions and "cook" it carefully… maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to become its enemy at the end of this story.
Even so, deep down, I knew 3% was only the beginning. There was still 97% waiting to devour me. And Elena's oath beneath the moon still stood.
"Rian," Elena called before entering the tent.
"Yes?"
"Your cooking tomorrow had better be better than this. That's an order."
I smiled.
"Understood, Commander."