Ex-Rank Awakening: My Attacks Make Me Stronger

Two centuries ago, Asmodeus had stood beside Abraham, Sarah, and George as one of the four Golden Arbiters, pillars of strength within the Federation. Back then, he was noble, unshakable. But when his wife died, the change began.

At first, it was small enough that even the others missed it, a pause too long when her name was mentioned, and an edge in his voice whenever he remembered her face. But by the time Abraham and Sarah realized, it was too late. Asmodeus had already committed the unthinkable, sacrificing Abraham’s own son in a forbidden ritual meant to bring his wife back.

She never returned.

What remained was a man hollowed out, mind warped, clinging to a demon’s promise that his beloved would walk the world again. For two hundred years, he had fed that lie, becoming a devoted servant to the very monsters they hunted.

Now, face-to-face in the wide marble hall, Abraham and Sarah were here for retribution, blood for blood.

Asmodeus staggered from their last blow, then straightened, eyes gleaming with feverish devotion. "Lord! I offer fifty years of my life to you, grant me strength!"

He spoke it all in one ragged breath. The change was instant.

Abraham barely had time to use [blink] before an aura no longer human, thick, suffocating, and drenched in malice, burst from Asmodeus like a shockwave. Abraham blinked to Sarah’s side as he seized her arm, the two of them vanishing in a synchronized blink to the far side of the chamber. The energy clawed at the air but stopped short of them, leaving cracks spidering across the marble.

The man before them was gone. In his place loomed a demon in full, it had two great horns curling from his skull, muscles swelling as his robes tore apart. Purple skin stretched over a towering frame, goat-like legs stamping the floor with a deep, resonant thud and Blood-red eyes that burned with fury.

"This will be the end," Asmodeus said, voice deeper, resonating with something not of this world. "When I offer you to my lord, I will finally be reunited with my beloved."

Abraham’s gaze flicked to Sarah. "We have to use it."

She nodded once.

They hadn’t touched the Tier VII SSS-rank artifact since winning it in the trial World long ago, knowing the cost. Now, there was no choice. Abraham’s pendant and Sarah’s bracelet shimmered into their hands, sliding into place. The paired relic—[Siphon’s Glow]—answered immediately, surging with blinding power as they clasped hands.

Asmodeus snarled.

"Over my dead body!" He lowered his head, energy coiling between his horns like a star being born, purple light flooding the hall.

The two forces ignited at once.

"Death Ray!"

"Radiant Light!"

The beams met in midair with a deafening roar, walls shuddering from the pressure. Energy clashed, fought, clawed for dominance. For a moment, Asmodeus pushed them back, purple overwhelming gold.

Then his eyes widened.

"My energy, it’s... draining?"

The truth struck like a blade: Siphon’s Glow absorbed the power of any attack it clashed with, feeding it into its own. Abraham and Sarah’s beam swelled, growing brighter, heavier, and more crushing with every heartbeat, while his shrank away.

"Lord! Help me!" Asmodeus roared.

Silence.

"LORD!!!"

Still nothing.

The golden light consumed the last of his attack and tore through him, flooding the hall with searing radiance.

****

The hall still smelled of scorched stone and ozone. Fragments of marble littered the floor, glowing faintly from the lingering heat of the clash.

Asmodeus lay sprawled on his back, chest heaving in shallow gasps. Half his body was gone, disintegrated in the storm of radiant light. The once-majestic crimson-violet robes were nothing but ragged scraps clinging to purple flesh. His remaining hand twitched against the cold floor, fingers curling in phantom defiance.

Abraham, leaning heavily on Sarah’s shoulder, approached the fallen man. The price of Siphon’s Glow had been steep. This time, the artifact’s backlash had chosen him, siphoning away a portion of his own strength. It would return, but only after a long, grueling wait.

His steps echoed as he came to stand over Asmodeus, looking down with eyes that held no pity. "You’re as tenacious as a cockroach," he said flatly. It was no compliment.

Asmodeus coughed, blood bubbling at his lips, but a faint smile still lingered. "You can kill me now. I... understand it at last. This was my lord’s will, not to bring her to me... but to send me to her." His voice was faint, but the conviction in it was maddening.

Abraham’s jaw tightened. A man this far gone was beyond saving. Sarah stepped forward, expression unreadable.

Without a word, she drove her rapier into the center of his forehead. The blade hummed as light surged along its length, flooding into him. Asmodeus’s body jerked once, then she released the full force of the energy. His head exploded in a violent burst of brilliance and shadow, the pain etched into his final scream before it was cut short.

Only silence remained.

"It’s done," Abraham said at last, his voice tired but resolute.

Sarah steadied him, guiding him toward the exit. Behind them, the barrier shimmered, then dissolved into nothing, leaving only the ruined throne room, and the fading echo of vengeance finally served.

****

By nightfall, it was over.

Every stronghold, shrine, and hidden cellar tied to the demon worshippers within the Federation lay in ruin. Flames rose from the husks of their temples. Their black idols lay shattered, trampled into dust. Even the most fortified hideouts, those thought untouchable, had been breached and purged.

The soldiers of the Federation had moved with frightening precision. Their efficiency was something even the citizens found unsettling. Yet, for the first time in centuries, the air felt lighter. The constant, invisible dread that had shadowed every market, every home, had dissipated. The cultists had fallen in droves, their whispered prayers to their dark patrons silenced forever.

Only one remained, the architect of it all.

Governor of the Federation, Supreme Warden Akira Yakomoto, stood over the last living piece of the corruption. The figure before him barely resembled a leader now. Its body was mangled, twisted like meat torn apart by a rabid beast, yet somehow it still clung to life.

Akira’s gaze was cold, unwavering. "So... the one pulling the strings was a demon. I should have guessed."

The creature’s eyes flickered with stubborn malice. "How... did you find out about all our secrets?" it rasped, each word bubbling from its torn mouth.

Akira’s voice was steady, almost bored. "You demons aren’t the only ones who know how to plant spies."

The statement struck the cult leader like a hammer. A spy? Among us? Its mangled features twitched as the thought deepened into dread. Only a Demon Lord would have such knowledge... did they plant one of their own?

The question would never be answered.

As with a single motion, Akira unleashed his power, and the thing was obliterated, its body and soul torn into nothingness, leaving not even ash.

And just like that, the last thread of the demon cult unraveled.

The Federation would finally know peace... at least for now.