CHAPTER 903: BLACK DOGS

"Is this art really that powerful?" Kevin asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.

"Of course," Old Devil Dave replied, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Kevin raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Then why have I practiced it for so long and haven’t even reached the first level? My soul is a little stronger than others at the same level, but aside from that, this Great Demonic Art hasn’t given me any other benefits."

Old Devil Dave chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to resonate deep within Kevin’s mind. "Hehe, isn’t the biggest benefit of this art that it prevents me from wiping out your soul?"

Kevin couldn’t help but snort at that response, his eyes narrowing slightly. The old devil’s words only made him more cautious and wary. The demon was clearly trying to manipulate him, and Kevin wasn’t about to fall for it.

With a slight chuckle, Old Devil Dave continued, his voice smooth and persuasive, "Kevin boy, although I have never practiced the Great Demonic Art myself, I know a few things from rumors. The techniques in the art require an incredibly powerful soul to support them. The first level focuses primarily on strengthening your soul, while the second level unlocks the battle techniques. These battle techniques rely heavily on soul power, and because they are so potent, even a small degree of mastery in them allows you to challenge opponents of much higher levels."

He paused, as if savoring the moment, before adding, "It was precisely because of this incredible power that the Great Demonic Art became so famous ten thousand years ago."

Kevin absorbed the information, his interest now fully engaged. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place. Then, his curiosity got the better of him, and he asked, "Senior Dave, who are you, and how do you know all this?"

Kevin had searched through every book in the Void Soul Hall, hoping to find records or knowledge about the Great Demonic Art, but he had come up empty-handed. There was no mention of it, not even a whisper. This, of course, only served to make him more suspicious and wary of the demon inside his body.

Old Devil Dave’s voice turned sly and enigmatic. "Hehe, don’t concern yourself with my identity. All you need to know is that as long as you can obtain that treasure and help me find a suitable body, I will not only refrain from harming you, but I’ll also form a cooperative relationship with you. This may very well be your chance to change your destiny, boy."

Kevin’s expression remained neutral, but internally, he was processing the words carefully. He had already learned not to trust this demon fully. But the promise of a powerful treasure and the possibility of altering his fate? That was tempting. Still, he couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing in his head.

"I see," Kevin said indifferently, his tone masking the careful thoughts racing through his mind. "Having said that, I still hope to live long enough to enjoy all of this," he added, his voice laced with an edge of dry humor.

Old Devil Dave laughed softly, his tone soothing but with an undercurrent of promise. "With my help, you will definitely succeed."

Kevin didn’t respond immediately. He kept his thoughts to himself as he walked deeper into the abyss, the weight of his growing partnership with the old devil settling heavily on his shoulders.

Although he couldn’t deny the power and potential that the Great Demonic Art offered, he also knew that trusting the demon entirely could be his downfall. There was no going back now. The choices ahead would shape his destiny, and only time would reveal whether it was a path to power or destruction.

---

"Damn it, is it ever going to end?" Max growled through clenched teeth, his voice echoing faintly against the jagged stone walls of the Black Dog Abyss. His figure darted forward like a ghostly shadow, his steps light yet impossibly fast, but despite his speed, his face carried a heavy gloom.

Behind him came a chorus of bone-chilling howls, a sound that clawed at the nerves like iron scraping stone.

He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, and his expression darkened further. A dozen black shapes surged after him, their paws pounding against the icy stone with a dull, thunderous rhythm.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

Their barks were guttural and harsh, more like the roar of predators than the barking of ordinary canines.

These were no ordinary beasts. They looked like dogs, yes, but only in shape. Their bodies were pitch black, sleek and lean, radiating killing intent with every step. Their teeth gleamed unnaturally white in the abyss’s dim light, and their eyes were pits of black malice, devoid of warmth or mercy.

Each one was the size of a grown wolf, their power and agility far surpassing that of any mundane beast.

But among them, one stood out. A two-headed black dog ran at the head of the pack, its pace steady, its movements calculated and vicious. Both heads snarled and snapped, exhaling plumes of ominous black mist as it pursued Max relentlessly. Worse yet, this wasn’t just any beast—it carried the terrifying aura of the peak Legend Rank.

Max’s heart sank slightly as he assessed the situation. With his current strength, he was confident in his ability to battle ordinary Legend Rank monsters and even win. Against a peak Legend Rank opponent, even if he couldn’t kill it, he could still escape safely under normal circumstances.

But this creature was different—it was too fast, unnaturally so. Even when Max used One Step Mile, his most refined movement technique, the two-headed black dog closed the distance like a phantom clinging to his shadow.

And the rest of the pack wasn’t idle either. Dozens of the lesser black dogs snapped and lunged, creating an almost unbreakable formation behind him. They moved like living shackles, giving him no room to stop, no room to breathe. He knew instinctively that the moment he faltered, these beasts would pounce and tear into him, pinning him down like a swarm of leeches that couldn’t be shaken off.