While the serpents' conflict raged below, Samael did not remain still.
He circled the area with agile movements, leaping between branches and shadows, searching for more participants for his "party."
With all that noise, the chaos was an open invitation.
And it didn't take long.
He spotted two serpents in the distance, awakened by the unceasing thunder of battle. They watched the conflict from opposite sides—close enough to see each other, yet far enough to hesitate.
Samael smiled.
He summoned the Ascended Spear.
And hurled it straight into the space between the two creatures.
The spear slammed into the ground with brutal force.
"This is my invitation to the party," Samael shouted, already turning to run.
Both serpents reacted instantly.
Hissing, they charged after him.
Samael led them straight to the center of the conflict, vanishing into the trees seconds before they threw themselves into the writhing mass of battling bodies.
He repeated the process.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
By the time he finally stopped, ten serpents were locked in a brutal conflict—a chaotic knot of scales, fangs, and hatred. The forest floor was completely consumed by relentless motion.
From the top of a tree, Samael watched.
It was a spectacle.
Then…
Something changed.
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
A different presence emerged from between the trees.
A two-headed serpent slithered out of the shadows.
The instant it appeared, the entire atmosphere shifted. The air grew heavier, more oppressive. Its eyes—two cold, attentive pairs—surveyed the battlefield with predatory calm.
Behind it came two more serpents.
Intact.
Organized.
Followers.
The balance of the fight shattered.
Ten wounded, exhausted serpents…
Against three newcomers.
And one human hidden in the canopy.
"Wow…" Samael murmured, genuinely surprised. "Didn't expect this twist."
He tilted his head, watching with interest.
"Yesterday's enemies… today's allies. That's never made more sense."
The Demonic Serpent entered the battle.
And the difference was immediate.
Its movements were precise, calculated. Each strike left another serpent grievously injured. The two escorts moved in perfect coordination, shielding it and attacking without hesitation.
The ten serpents began to fall one by one.
The conflict continued…
But something had changed for Samael.
It was becoming repetitive.
Worse.
It was giving him too much time to think.
And he didn't want that.
The smile vanished.
He summoned his sword.
And dropped from the tree.
He fell into the chaos like an armed shadow.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he struck one of the demonic creature's allied serpents, delivering a powerful, precise blow.
There were no sides here.
No allies.
Everything was an enemy.
All the serpents—with the exception of the Demonic Serpent—attacked anything that moved.
Scales, bodies, fangs, blades.
The battlefield became a massacre without logic.
And Samael stood at its center.
Not as a hero.
Not as a survivor.
But as someone who had already decided…
That this party could not end yet.
Samael pressed forward.
He cut down one serpent in a clean strike, twisting his body the next instant to avoid a sweeping tail. Before he could finish it off, another serpent slammed into the wound, crushing the body of the one he had just cut.
Chaos left no room for hesitation.
Another serpent charged straight at him.
Samael rolled across the ground, rose in the same motion, and raised his sword just in time to block a violent tail strike. The impact reverberated through his bones.
He leapt aside.
And cut another serpent down from behind.
Then he felt it.
A tail smashed squarely into his arm.
The world spun.
Samael was hurled away, crashing into the ground with tremendous force. A dry crack echoed—and the pain followed immediately.
His arm went numb.
Barely responding.
Even so, he stood up.
He dismissed the spear—
Then, in a swift motion, hurled it directly at the eye of the Awakened Demonic Serpent.
"HIIISSSSS—!"
The creature hissed, recoiling.
But it was the strongest one at the "party."
Five serpents turned on it at once.
One of the smaller serpents, already at death's door, writhed near Samael. He resummoned his sword and drove it straight into its head.
At that party of fourteen participants…
The first had fallen.
And from there on, it was all downhill.
Samael's armor saved him countless times—blocking fangs, absorbing impacts, deflecting fatal blows.
But every hit left its mark.
Cracks.
Until, little by little, it began to give way.
When the massacre ended, only two remained.
Samael.
And the Awakened Demon.
The weakest survivor of the battle…
Against the strongest.
Samael used his small body to its absolute limit, darting back and forth, surviving by mere inches. His arm was broken. His body covered in wounds. His legs trembled.
The two-headed serpent… no longer had two heads.
One had been violently torn away during the conflict.
The remaining head had only one eye.
And still, it advanced.
With rage.
With pure hatred.
Samael rolled aside, narrowly avoiding the attack. He summoned the Ascended Spear and hurled it with everything he had left.
The spear pierced the demon's already battered body.
"HIIISSS—!"
But it did not fall.
The creature kept coming.
Samael summoned his sword and ran straight toward it.
He cut.
Once.
Again.
And again.
He barely avoided bites and tail strikes, opening more and more wounds. Even if the demon won…
It would die afterward.
But Samael couldn't avoid everything.
A tail slammed into him head-on.
He was thrown against a tree.
Something broke.
His armor shattered.
The Memory dissolved.
His lungs burned.
His ribs screamed.
His arm shook.
His legs failed.
His body had reached its absolute limit.
"Looks like this is the end…" he murmured.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"Goodbye, Terror-chan…" he whispered. "Goodbye, Professor Stern…"
He remembered the words from the novel he had read.
Sunny crawling through the Nameless Temple.
Speaking to the Shadow God.
Samael laughed weakly.
"Guess… I'll have to fight to the very end. At least to say I did my best."
He summoned the Ascended Spear one last time.
Gathered the final scraps of strength he had left.
And threw it.
The spear tore through the air—
And pierced straight through the head of the Awakened Demonic Serpent.
The colossal body collapsed.
Silence.
Samael won.
Not because he was strong.
But because he was the last one standing.
[Congratulations, you have slain an Awakened Demon:Man-Eating Siamese Serpent]
[You have gained a Memory]
[Congratulations, you have slain an Awakened Beast:Man-Eating Serpent]
[Congratulations, you have slain an Awakened Beast:Man-Eating Serpent]
[Congratulations, you have slain an Awakened Beast:Man-Eating Serpent]
[Congratulations, you have slain an Awakened Beast:Man-Eating Serpent]
In that battle…
Samael had killed four serpents.
Those that died by each other's fangs…
Did not count.
Samael remained unconscious for nearly three hours after the brutal conflict.
No creature dared approach.
The stench of blood and violence soaked the forest, and even the most aggressive creatures kept their distance, fearing the mysterious being who had turned the clearing into a slaughterhouse.
When he finally awoke, his body was numb.
The pain was constant—deep, spreading through every muscle and bone. Even his emotions felt dulled, as if the extreme frustration and despair he had experienced had drained away any remaining reaction.
Dragging himself across the battlefield, Samael collected the Soul Fragments left behind.
In total, there were only twenty-seven Awakened Soul Fragments.
A pitiful amount—but consistent.
Twelve Awakened monsters, two fragments each.One Awakened Demon, three fragments.
Sitting among twisted carcasses, Samael began absorbing the fragments. Each was equivalent to two Dormant fragments, and the difference was immediate.
[Soul Core: 58 / 500]
His Essence reserves had increased considerably.
Even exhausted.Even wounded.Even on the brink of collapse…
For the first time since arriving on that island, Samael felt that he was truly growing stronger.
Samael dragged himself back to Terror-chan.
His body was soaked in blood, and every movement was agony. It took nearly two hours before he finally reached the place where he usually rested.
The moment he arrived, he collapsed.
He slept through the rest of that day… and the entire next day.
The exhaustion was absolute.
When he woke, he felt completely broken. His arm still throbbed with intense pain, pulsing with every attempt to move. He was in no condition to hunt—that much was obvious.
Even so, staying there doing nothing would be worse.
He didn't want to think about what had happened over the past few days. About the fight. About the madness he had committed the night before.
So he made a simple decision.
To walk along the beach.
Not to train.Not to survive.
Just to breathe, to relax…
And to try to put his mind back in order.