"Kill!!"
The soldiers clad in black heavy armor and draped in crimson cloaks surged forward like an unstoppable tide, sweeping across the land. Every obstacle in their path was obliterated, the only variable being how long it took to clear them.
Above the battlefield, white-armored soldiers with feathered wings soared through the skies, providing long-range support for the ground forces. Occasionally, some of them would dive down to join the black-armored troops in direct combat.
For the defending side, the sight of this relentless onslaught was nothing short of despair. From the highest-ranking officers to the lowest foot soldiers, all were gripped by fear. But even the most untrained among them understood one thing: this was an army to which surrender was not an option.
The military merit system implemented by the newly formed empire—the Celestial Empire, born from the merger of Gayle Kingdom and the Radiant Kingdom—was infamous across neighboring lands.
This system had turned the Celestial Empire's soldiers into bloodthirsty beasts, hungry for glory. Even the disciplined soldiers of the former Radiant Kingdom were no exception. The immense benefits offered through military merit had seduced every soldier, leaving none indifferent.
Military merit was calculated by severed heads. For these soldiers, every enemy head was a stepping stone toward promotions, wealth, and titles. The army's structure, from top to bottom, left no room for prisoners. Captives served no purpose in this ruthless system.
The battlefield below was a cacophony of screams and the clash of steel. Corpses littered the blood-soaked ground, and the stench of death hung in the air, painting the skies in hues of crimson.
But as the battle raged on, the reddish clouds began to dissipate, burned away by the immense heat radiating from a colossal figure high above the heavens.
"Why not surrender? Why persist in this futile struggle? Do you really think you stand a chance of winning?"
Muria, now transformed into his Yanmo form, stretched his monstrous, imposing body and stared at the massive beast before him.
The creature was a colossal, emerald-colored beast resembling a lion-tiger hybrid. Two sharp horns sprouted from its head, and translucent, wind-forged wings extended from its sides.
This beast was a literal embodiment of wind, reigning as its sovereign. Every breath, every motion from it conjured raging storms and cyclones.
But unfortunately for it, its opponent was Muria—a hybrid born with mastery over the element of wind as part of his birthright. Muria's understanding and command over wind far surpassed that of the beast, leaving it completely outclassed.
"Greedy Yanmo King! You've destroyed nation after nation. When will your insatiable desires be satisfied?"
The wind beast, the monarch of the Kingdom of Bellwind, roared furiously. Despite its immense power, it had been utterly overwhelmed in the battle so far.
"Desire? I have none." Muria, whose form differed slightly from a traditional Yanmo, shook his head dismissively.
"Then why do you wage war? My kingdom has never provoked you—not during the reign of Gayle Kingdom nor during Radiant Kingdom. We've had no interactions with you whatsoever!" The wind beast, its voice carrying the force of a hurricane, growled bitterly.
The monarch of Bellwind felt utterly wronged. He had done nothing to warrant this aggression, yet the Celestial Empire had declared war on his kingdom without warning. In mere moments, its armies surged across his borders, giving him no time to prepare.
"At this stage, why bother feigning ignorance?" Muria said with a faint smile, feeling the restless power surging within him. "Surely, deep down, you feel it too. Don't you feel an irresistible urge to consume me?"
The wind beast stiffened for a moment, saying nothing. Muria's words hit a nerve. From the moment it first laid eyes on Muria, an overwhelming urge to devour him had stirred within its very being. It knew exactly why.
"Ah, so you've figured it out," Muria continued. "You know I'm gathering the powers of the Seven Calamity Demons, don't you? But are you aware that the more I collect, the closer I come to death?"
"That's new to me," Muria said, his interest piqued. "This is the first I'm hearing of it."
"You don't even know this, and yet you've dared to tread this path?" The wind beast stared at him in disbelief before sighing in resignation. "Ignorance is bliss, I suppose. Only someone like you—who knows nothing but wields immense power—would dare to collect the powers of the Seven Calamity Demons."
"So, what are these dangers? Are there that many taboos surrounding this?" Muria asked with a glimmer of curiosity. He had already deduced that the so-called "Seven Calamity Demons" were this world's epics whose bodies had fused with its essence. The locals had simply given them this name.
"I already told you: collecting the powers of the Calamity Demons is to court death. Once you've gathered enough, their will shall awaken within you. When that happens, the demon's consciousness will erase your own, and your body will become a vessel for their resurrection."
"That's it?" Muria frowned, disappointed. This wasn't the kind of insight he was hoping for. The notion that collecting their power would risk awakening their willpower was something even a fool could deduce.
As a being who had ascended to epic status, Muria knew the characteristics of the eternal forms better than anyone. He was well aware of the risks. Naturally, he had already prepared to face the awakening of their wills and was confident in his ability to suppress them.
"Don't you fear this?" The wind beast was stunned by Muria's lack of reaction. It had assumed that by warning Muria of these risks, it could deter him from further aggression, possibly sparing its life.
"A dead demon's will? What's there to fear?" Muria chuckled mockingly.
"Yanmo King, your arrogance will be your downfall! Do you think you're the first to attempt this? Many brilliant monarchs before you have tried, and not a single one has succeeded in claiming the complete power of the Seven Calamity Demons."
"Is that so?" Muria remained unfazed, his disinterest evident.
Realizing it couldn't scare Muria, the monarch of Bellwind gritted its teeth and revealed more. "If you insist on pursuing the powers of the Seven Calamity Demons, the obstacles you face will far exceed your imagination. Do you think the demon's will is your only concern?"
"What else?" Muria asked lazily. Around him, fiery chains swirled, scattering the winds that tried to approach him.
"You must also prepare for others like me—those who wield the power of the Seven—to unite against you. Do you think we'll sit idly by and let someone as ambitious as you hunt us down one by one?"
"An alliance against me? That would be convenient. It'd save me the trouble of tracking all of you down," Muria said indifferently, his confidence unshaken. Combat was never something he shied away from.
"You're courting death!" the wind beast roared.
"Is that all you've got to say?" Muria sighed, his disappointment evident. This conversation had failed to provide the useful information he was seeking.
"If you don't surrender today, you will die." Muria's enormous Yanmo form began to move forward, the pressure of his presence forcing the wind beast to instinctively retreat.
"If I surrender, you'll still take my power," the wind beast growled bitterly.
Upon first sensing Muria's presence, it too had felt a similar desire to consume him and grow stronger. But the ensuing battle had crushed its hope. Muria's control over wind was so overwhelming that the beast felt like a mere novice by comparison.
"Your power will be mine, but I'll spare your life. If you surrender now, the war below will end immediately."
"A king stripped of power is no king at all!" The wind beast let out a wild laugh. In this chaotic world, a king's authority was derived solely from their strength.
Clang!
Before the laughter subsided, a blazing sword slash lit up the sky, transforming it into an inferno. The scorching blade seemed poised to cleave the wind beast in two.
"You won't devour me so easily!"
Roar!
The wind beast roared defiantly, summoning a massive gale that extinguished countless flames. But it was not enough. The sword slash carved through the storm, striking its body and spraying translucent blood into the air.
"I… refuse to accept this!"
The wind beast plummeted from the sky, wounded and humiliated. Its mind was in turmoil. No matter how it tried to evade or counter, all its actions were perfectly predicted by Muria. The feeling of being utterly outmatched was suffocating.
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