An amphithere was an advanced, gigantic serpent that had already grown mighty wings. It was a distant relative of dragons and carried, albeit only in small amounts, inherited dragon blood in its veins. This granted it extraordinary potential and was the reason for its rapid growth—especially in the case of this specimen.
The amphithere that Cercius was meant to hunt and slay was a colossal creature: a white serpent over fifty meters long, with triangular scales and enormous wings whose wingspan exceeded fifty meters. From its appearance—still more reminiscent of a serpent than a dragon—it was clear that this beast had developed its current form as an amphithere from its small amount of dragon blood.
In this form, it was comparable to an A-rank creature. Moreover, in its current evolutionary stage, it resembled far more a mystical beast than an ordinary natural beast or a magical beast. It had already surpassed these two stages and stood on the verge of ascending into the rank of a true mystical beast.
After roughly two hours of searching, Cercius finally discovered his target. The amphithere had retreated, yet its unrestrained aura and massive body made it easy to find—hidden behind a mighty waterfall.
There it lay, the giant serpent, lazily bathing in the cool water. Its mere presence had long since driven away all animals in the area. Even strong magical beasts would avoid its vicinity and tremble in fear the moment they sensed its presence.
As soon as Cercius caught sight of the enormous, winged serpent, it seemed to sense him in turn and notice his presence. When their eyes met, it felt as if two relatives were encountering one another—an oddity that made both of them frown.
ROAR!
The amphithere, strangely annoyed by the feeling—since it could guess where it came from—let out a loud, dominant roar in Cercius' direction and spread its wide wings with a clear intent to attack.
Cercius drew his sword, readied his shield, and prepared for battle, yet he too felt disturbed by that indescribable sensation that had crept into his heart.
However, he immediately recognized that it would not simply vanish—and he understood its origin.
"We are both very strong!"
That was the reason.
The feeling each of them experienced upon seeing the other was one as if two apex predators had crossed paths. They sensed the power of the other and how much they resembled one another. Although this resemblance created a sort of kinship between them, there could be only one ruler—one apex predator reigning over the jungle.
Once the amphithere had identified Cercius as an enemy, the battle began.
Cercius immediately activated his Body Enhancement and shot toward his opponent, the enormous winged serpent. He swung his sword, intending to sever its head with a single blow.
But he had not expected that the amphithere had begun concentrating vast amounts of mana in its jaws. Suddenly, it unleashed a frigid beam of compressed ice from its mouth.
When Cercius saw the massive torrent of ice rushing toward him, he instantly shifted direction and dodged.
The beam missed him, but struck the forest behind him and froze everything within its reach. Even part of the lake fed by the waterfall—behind which the amphithere had previously been hiding—turned to ice.
Cercius landed on a tree and immediately prepared for his next attack. He released his mana and, with a swing of his sword, generated a wave of tearing wind that split the air and shot toward the amphithere.
Cutting Wind!
As it faced the attack, the amphithere let out another loud roar. This roar seemed to be its method of casting magic, for all around it, clusters of ice formed in the air, reshaping themselves according to its will.
Moments before the cutting wind wave could strike her, a massive claw of ice appeared and collided with the attack.
Upon impact, the wind wave dissipated while the ice shattered.
Hm… It seems to use mostly ice-element magic. But I shouldn't underestimate it and must stay wary of deviations.
Cercius calmly analyzed the situation, observing the amphithere's magic and reactions carefully and planning his next moves. Every motion, every action of his opponent was examined so he could prepare for possible variables.
"Very well, let me face you with magic as well!"
He raised his mana and began casting his own spell.
Earth Manipulation: Wrath of the Earth!
Several large chunks of earth rose like tiny mountains from the ground and shot toward the amphithere and its massive body like cannonballs.
The amphithere responded to Cercius' attack, using its magic once more and launching several ice masses that clashed with the boulders, the two forces canceling each other out.
Cercius, however, was not disappointed that his attack had failed—he had already expected it. He cast another spell, this time even stronger.
Embrace of the Earth!
From the ground rose two enormous masses which continued to grow, taking the shape of mighty arms that reached toward the amphithere, their hands grasping for her.
"Hmpf. I learned this from the lich… but that's not all!" Cercius declared with a confident grin.
Artillery of the Heavens!
A strong wind began to blow in the surroundings, intensifying. Directly above Cercius, lances of compressed wind formed, all aimed at the beast.
As soon as the lances appeared, Cercius swung his hand as if giving the order to fire, and the spears launched.
The amphithere countered the relentless attacks of her hunter with another roar and her ice magic.
Instantly, the area within several dozen kilometers around her froze. Ice masses shot toward the wind lances and effortlessly froze the two massive earth hands.
Within moments, all of Cercius' attacks seemed to have been halted with ease.
But the amphithere had not accounted for Cercius himself. As soon as she unleashed her magic, he charged forward, leaping from treetop to treetop, then onto the frozen earth hands, sprinting at full speed toward his target.
Once he reached the enormous hands, Cercius jumped off and hurled himself at the amphithere. He swung his sword, overflowing with mana, and released his most powerful ability at full strength.
Cutting Wind!
"I expected you to block all of my attacks—after all, your mana reserves are nearly three times my own—but this is something you cannot freeze!" he shouted at the amphithere, his golden pupils gleaming.
The amphithere let out a desperate cry and unleashed all her mana at once.
Instantly, ice formed everywhere, and even the air itself seemed to freeze. Frost gathered upon Cercius' body, but he ignored it and executed his attack.
In the end, his blade, like a stormwind, sliced through the serpent's throat and severed its head. At once, the amphithere's ice magic extinguished, dissipated entirely, and the ice covering the area slowly began to melt, vanishing completely in a short span of time.
Only a few seconds later, the amphithere's uncontrolled magic might have frozen not only Cercius but the entire mortal world.
[Congratulations, you have successfully completed God's Fourth Trial, "Ascending Troublemaker."]
[You have successfully written the Fable: "Enemy of the Ascenders."]
Thus Cercius had completed the fourth trial—likely even faster than anyone before him. This was partly because battles against powerful beings often ended quickly, given their immense destructive power.
The same held true for constellations that did not hold back and used their deadliest abilities—techniques that were almost always fatal to mortals.
Yet this also showed that Cercius was growing ever stronger and slowly approaching the level of a constellation.
The moment he had completed the fourth trial, the fifth—and thus the second-to-last—trial of God awaited him.
This fifth trial bore the title: "Trial of the Flaming Hell." In this trial, Cercius would truly enter the endless War Hell, where the most dreadful beings of the mortal worlds, as well as cruel, battle-hungry demons, resided.
His task was to travel to a specific region of Hell, where he would confront a demon baron and defeat him.
A demon baron was a noble demon—though the lowest among the nobles. They were stronger than all ordinary demons and not to be underestimated. A demon could only become a noble if it had reached at least A-rank. This meant that noble demons were just as powerful as Cercius—if not even stronger.
Demons who were not nobles were divided into lesser, middling, and greater demons:
Lesser Demons: E- to F-rank
Middling Demons: C- to D-rank
Greater Demons: B-rank
The demon baron Cercius had been assigned to defeat carried the title: "Demon of Flames," Aamon. As his title revealed, he was a fire demon specialized in controlling flames and resided in a region filled with countless lakes of lava.
This demon served, together with other noble demons, under the demon duke Caym, a recently ascended duke who was also a constellation of fable rank.
The baron's estate was located within the territory of Duke Caym, in the far southeast of the endless War Hell.
The region was a desolate wasteland, devoid of forests, trees, or any other form of life. Even mountains or hills were rare and appeared only sporadically. The only notable feature of the area was the abundance of lava lakes.
The estate of the demon baron Aamon sat upon one of the few hills in this barren land—more of a small rise than a true hill—perfectly constructed at its peak.
As usual, Cercius was transported by the portal that always delivered him to the sites of his trials. This time, it deposited him in the middle of the wasteland in the southeastern region of the endless War Hell. Using the map provided to him by the system for this trial, he navigated through the desolate land toward the estate of the fire demon.
During his march through the endless War Hell, Cercius encountered various demons. However, all of them were of the lesser ranks and possessed little to no combat power.
On his short journey, he rarely encountered demons who were likely direct subordinates of Duke Caym. Although these were not nobles, they also posed no threat to Cercius, as most wandering demons were either lesser or occasionally middling demons.
Greater demons, who were not yet nobles, served as overseers of the subordinates or as the right hand of the noble demons—their elite forces. They were more useful than the rest of Hell's denizens and valued as capable fighters.
The true difficulties emerged only when Cercius approached the hill on which Aamon's estate stood.
In the midst of the barren wasteland rose the large, somewhat battered estate built in a European style—in this empty landscape, it seemed entirely out of place.
Even from afar, Cercius could see numerous demons swarming around the estate. They wandered aimlessly, talked, fought, or lounged on the barren ground, going about their daily routines.
A pitiful sight. Yet these loitering, poorly clad demons likely formed the baron's fighting force—his very own private army.
Though their numbers ranged from several hundred to a few thousand, they displayed no military order whatsoever. They were neither properly armed nor disciplined, had no real shelters, and all lived primitively out in the open, wearing tattered clothing.
As for their lack of dwellings, it made a certain sense: within several hundred kilometers of the region, there was nothing they could use to construct shelters. Still, the question remained how the baron had managed to erect an estate in the middle of this barren wasteland—even if it looked somewhat damaged.
Upon reaching the area around the estate and seeing the many loitering demons, Cercius halted and considered his next steps. He needed to plan carefully and determine how best to approach his target—the estate where the baron resided.
He observed the demons from a distance.
Haah~ After a few minutes, he suddenly sighed, having apparently reached his decision. Instead of using any special magic, hiding, or applying tricks, he simply moved casually toward the estate, making no effort to conceal himself from the demons.
His decision was simple: he would walk straight toward his objective. If he succeeded and no one stopped him, perfect. If not, it would hardly matter.
The demons in this region—even the baron's subordinates—were stronger than some wandering creatures of Hell, yet far from reaching the level of nobles or Cercius himself. Even if they tried to stop him, they would fail. Of course, their actions could alert the baron, but that was unlikely.
Demons were, after all, a warlike species that spent most of their time doing nothing but fighting and killing one another. It would hardly seem unusual if similar events occurred even in a baron's territory—such things were practically everyday life.
With this decision made, Cercius walked casually toward the estate, through the crowds of loitering demons, acting as though his presence there was entirely natural.
And for the most part, it seemed to work—until he suddenly stopped, only a few hundred meters away from the estate.