Ingrid stood still staring at Alex who was ready to battle.

He had cleared his section of the tournament phase with ease as there had been no real contenders in his bracket—just players he regarded as weaklings and placeholders.

He hadn't even broken a sweat on that phase and naturally, he had expected the same for Prince Malik, the demon king's heir and a force of nature on the battlefield.

But then the rumors spread.

Whispers at first, then confirmations.

Malik had been killed.

Not defeated.

Killed.

His soul hadn't returned to the demon realm like it was supposed to.

Somehow, the killer had found a way to sever the ties completely—body, spirit, and core.

A permanent death.

Which was odd as something like this was not supposed to happen. He didn't think it could happen.

The demon king's fury had shaken the realm, and then the order came down the line—"Find the killer. Eliminate him. No matter the cost."*

Ingrid accepted the task without hesitation as he was the only demon with access to the killer. He had waited until the next phase, preparing as he expected his foe to be formidable, but when he finally saw the killer standing on the bridge during the race phase, he was shocked.

He'd expected someone legendary, a chosen. A player blessed by one of the great deities. An higher race.

But it wasn't.

At first glance, Ingrid thought it was Adam, the one chosen by the Dragon Emperor himself as he heard the killer was a human.

But no—it wasn't Adam.

It was just…a human.

A half-mutated human, at that, surrounded by flickers of unstable mana.

He was scarred and unimpressive by every measure. A disappointment.

And that made Ingrid confused.

How could Malik have fallen to that?

Ingrid stared at the Alex again and again, analyzed his mana output, how he moved, but still, nothing added up.

That man—Alex—wasn't even stabilizing his mana properly. His intake and output flow were mismatched and chaotic.

But then, as the race began, Ingrid started seeing things different.

Alex was keeping up with the rest of competitors. He hadn't used brute force. He hadn't relied on any techniques. And yet he was moving so effortlessly compared to the others who Ingrid believed were superior to him.

Ingrid also noticed that Alex chaotic mana flow had calmed down and was now flowing steady.

A feat not many could achieve.

Then more...

Alex figured out the puzzle of the endless bridge loop, outpaced the death cloud pursuing them, and still had enough sense left to dodge his ambush mid-sprint.

He hadn't even flinched.

Instead, Alex had surged forward and been the first to reach the gate.

This made Ingrid rethink things.

Maybe Malik hadn't lost due to weakness.

Maybe Alex wasn't ordinary after all.

Still, Ingrid couldn't accept that he himself could fall to such a man.

Their strength was on different tiers entirely. Ingrid's mana pool was vast, his control honed, and his bloodline powerful.

Alex was impressive, yes. But arrogance would be his undoing. If he had aligned with Adam or accepted the Dragon Emperor's favor, he might have stood a chance—might have survived.

Now, death was the only path forward.

Ingrid drew his sword. A fine black blade forged in the pits of the Demon Crucible. Heat shimmered in waves around him as flames licked along its edge.

Across the arena, Alex stood calm. Silent.

A circle of translucent daggers hovered around him—Spectral Barrage.

He didn't wear a smug grin. He didn't taunt or boast.

But inside, his heart thundered with anticipation.

He hadn't fought since Malik. Not seriously. And he'd undergone changes since then—evolutions in his core, subtle shifts in his body and mind. This would be his first real test of his new self.

And he hoped, genuinely, that Ingrid wouldn't disappoint him.

The demon prince stepped forward, boots striking the polished obsidian floor of the battle arena. There was no crowd—the eye above displaying everything to the audience outside, which they weren't aware of, and the weight of vengeance in the air.

"Human," Ingrid said, voice deep and even. "Understand this: it's nothing personal."

Alex tilted his head. "Oh? And why's that?"

"I don't know the full story. But If Malik died, it's because he wasn't fit to ascend. Regardless of how I feel, the demon clan demands justice, and as their representative, I must respond."

"Huh." Alex's tone was casual, but his eyes glinted. "There's no need for the speech. It won't change anything."

Ingrid frowned slightly.

"In a few minutes," Alex said, "you'll be lying on the ground, wondering what the hell just happened... asking yourself what I am—before fading into the abyss."

A muscle twitched in Ingrid's jaw.

"Are you saying I'll lose?"

Alex's voice didn't rise.

It remained steady.

"I'm saying you've already lost. You just don't know it yet."

"Arrogant," Ingrid said, the calm in his voice beginning to crack as the air around him rippled. The heat spiked, and faint tongues of fire curled from the base of his feet. "You'll learn what true power feels like. And you'll realize that all your efforts, all your clever tricks, mean nothing in the face of a superior being."

Alex snorted.

Without breaking eye contact, he lifted his hand. A handful of ethereal daggers from his Spectral Barrage rose in sync and shot straight into the air, disappearing into the roof of the temple.

Ingrid's gaze narrowed as he wondered what Alex was doing. Then a moment later he growled as he found Alex actions senseless

"You're bold. Focusing on something else while death stands in front of you."

Alex's lips twitched.

Not quite a smile.

"You… death?"

It was the one of the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.

"You...You're funnier than I expected. Death. Haha."

Alex began to crack up but Indrid didn't react.

There was no need to be provoked.

He'd seen this type of bluff before—men posturing under pressure, overextending just before they lost.

It was a weaklings gesture.

Flames erupted around Ingrid, and firestorm began to gather behind his...