Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

On the other side of the room, Adam was busy making his rounds. He had positioned himself near a group of female cadets, his grin wide, his voice smooth. He was telling a story, his hands gesturing dramatically.

"...and then the monster just collapsed! I barely broke a sweat." He leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. "Of course, I’m always at my best when there’s something worth protecting."

Here we go again, all those present thought this.

The cadets exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of amusement and skepticism. One of them, a young woman with fiery red hair, raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" she asked. "I heard you were trapped under a falling tree and had to be rescued by a passing merchant."

Adam’s grin faltered. "That... was a different mission."

"Was it?" another cadet asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Adam opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. The cadets laughed, a light, teasing sound, and turned away. Adam watched them go, a mixture of frustration and amusement on his face.

"It’s not my fault," he muttered. "It’s the reputation."

A passing cadet clapped him on the shoulder. "Sure, Adam. Whatever you say."

Back at the dartboard, the game had reached its climax. Lux threw, his dart landing just outside the bullseye. Nero stepped up, his movements calm, deliberate. He took aim, released, and his dart struck the center with perfect precision.

Lux stared at the board, his mouth open. "Well," he said. "I guess that’s that."

Nero smiled. "Guess so."

Lux shook his head, laughing. "Fine, fine. I’ll get the vodka."

He walked to the bar and returned with a bottle of clear, potent liquid. He poured two shots and handed one to Nero.

"To a worthy opponent," Lux said, raising his glass.

Nero raised his own. "To a worthy opponent."

They drank, the vodka burning a path down their throats. The crowd cheered. The celebration continued.

°°°

The forest was a graveyard. Barak moved through it like a specter, his sword dripping with the dark ichor of countless fallen creatures. His golden eyes, once sharp and arrogant, now held a maddening light, a hunger that could not be sated. The demon seed nestled within his heart pulsed with each kill, feeding on his rage, growing stronger with every life he extinguished.

Monsters fell before him like wheat before a scythe. A pack of wolves, their eyes gleaming with primal fear, scattered as he approached, but he was faster, more relentless. His sword sang through the air, and they fell, their essences flowing into him like a dark river. A bear, massive and ancient, rose on its hind legs to meet him. He laughed, a hollow, chilling sound, and cut it down with a single stroke. The beast collapsed, its body dissolving into wisps of dark energy that seeped into his chest.

But it was not enough. It was never enough. The hunger clawed at him, a ravenous beast that demanded more, always more.

His reasoning had grown clouded, the boundaries between right and wrong blurring into a haze of madness. The world had narrowed to a single, consuming purpose: power. He would grow strong enough to destroy Nero. He would crush the cursed child beneath his heel and claim the glory that was rightfully his. Nothing else mattered.

Amidst the carnage, a figure emerged from the shadows of the forest. An old man, his back bent with age, his hands clutching a woven basket filled with medicinal herbs. He had come to gather the plants that grew in the heart of the forest, unaware of the monster that stalked its depths.

The old man’s eyes widened as he saw the carnage, the bodies of the monsters scattered across the ground. He looked up and saw Barak standing amidst the destruction, his sword still crackling with dark lightning.

"Young man!" the old man called out, his voice quavering with relief. "Thank the heavens! I thought I was lost. Are you the one who cleared these beasts?"

Barak turned. His eyes, dark and mad, fixed on the old man. A smile spread across his lips, cold and predatory.

"Yes," he said. "I am."

The old man hobbled forward, his hands clasped in gratitude. "You’ve saved my life. I was gathering herbs for my granddaughter, she’s ill, you see. I never expected to encounter such creatures. How can I ever repay—"

Barak moved.

The old man didn’t even have time to scream. His words were cut short, his body slumping as a sword pierced his heart. He looked down, his eyes wide with confusion, then up at Barak’s face. There was no remorse there, no guilt. Only hunger. The old man’s eyes glazed over, and he fell.

Barak knelt beside the body, his hand hovering over the old man’s chest. Dark energy flowed from the corpse, seeping into his palm, filling him with a surge of power. It was different from the monsters, deeper, more potent. The essence of a human soul was a richer wine, and Barak drank deeply.

The old man’s body crumbled to ash, and he was gone. No trace left to find.

Barak stood, his eyes gleaming with a mad light. His reasoning, frayed by the demon’s influence, had begun to snap. But in that moment of madness, something else emerged—a cold, calculating intelligence that had been buried beneath his rage. The demon’s whispers had become his own thoughts, his own desires. He had found his true calling.

"Kukku," he chuckled, the sound dark and hollow. "Not only monsters can strengthen me. Humans do better. Much better."

He looked at the pile of ash that had once been a living, breathing man. There was no remorse. There was only hunger.

"I must be cautious," he murmured. "Arouse no unwanted attention. No suspicion. Not until I am ready. Not until I am strong enough to crush that cursed child once and for all."

He paused, his lips curling into a dark smile.

"Everything I do is for that purpose. For Nero. For the glory I was meant to have. For the world that will kneel before me."

Barak laughed, like a manic, his maniac laughter echoing sound that seemed to fill the forest. The darkness around him seemed to pulse with joy, feeding on his madness. He had found his purpose. He would grow stronger, and when the time came, he would destroy Nero and claim his place as the rightful ruler of the world.