Proteus POV

From my vantage point, I could feel the tension in the air as Kalon directed his blood puppets to sift through the remains of the demonized Thunder Hawks. The once majestic creatures, now twisted and corrupted, stood no chance against Kalon's mastery. Their black blood marred the once peaceful greenery, a sharp reminder of the devastation the demons brought with them.

The shriek of the last hawk echoed in the distance, and I watched as its body crumpled, still clutched between the gnashing teeth of the lord’s blood puppets. These creatures were horrifying yet fascinating in their construction—a testament to Kalon’s ingenuity. Their elongated, worm-like forms, slick with mucus, moved with unnerving fluidity. The serrated teeth buried within their bodies, capable of shredding flesh, were a deadly addition. Blue webs, a sign of infused poison, pulsed along their slimy exteriors, giving them an eerie glow as they dug through the remains, obeying their master’s command without question.

Asra, no longer latched to Kalon, was now feasting on a fallen beast. His large, slithering body coiled around the hawk’s corpse, swallowing it with disturbing ease. His hunger seemed insatiable, his form undulating as he consumed what remained.

Kalon's calm, collected demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos before us. His hands moved with precision, manipulating the puppets as they scoured the nest. Despite the carnage, he seemed focused, unfazed by the grotesque scene around him. His magic, infused with both blood and poison, was devastating—leaving nothing in its wake.

“So, these are the demonized Thunder Hawks,” I said, unable to hide the awe in my voice. "They are indeed stronger in comparison to their normal state."

Kalon gave a slight nod, his focus still on the task at hand. I watched him, my mind whirling with thoughts of what we were up against. If the Thunder Hawks were this powerful in their demonized state, what else could the Ruins hold? And would we be strong enough to face it?

The mana in the area was thick with malice, tainted by the demons’ influence. I could feel it creeping into my senses, clawing at my consciousness. But Kalon, with his stoic resolve, pressed on, determined to uncover whatever secrets the Ruins held.

I could only hope that we were ready for the challenges ahead.

Lord Damon’s foot pressed against the demonized Thunder Hawk, crushing its rib cage with an effortless force that sent a crack through the air. As the broken bones gave way, a mana heart, twisted and sickly brown, was revealed beneath the layers of decaying flesh. The heart, still pulsing faintly, was coated in the same mucus that had corrupted the beast’s eyes and body.

He reached down, plucking the heart from the shattered chest. Its aura was dim but still vivid, and the distortion of mana within it was clear—a sign of the spirit energy’s interference.

“The spirit energy must have distorted the flow of mana, overexerting the heart. That strain, in turn, corrupted the flesh, driving the beast mad,” Damon explained, his voice cool yet focused.

As I listened, my thoughts couldn’t help but drift toward one conclusion. ‘Like beings strengthened with elixirs, I take it?’

Damon glanced at me, a slight nod of acknowledgment. “You could state it that way,” he replied. “But this is much worse. They don’t burn out their energy like that from using an elixir. Their crazed state remains forever. And for now, it is irreversible.”

Master Kalon, silent until now, stepped forward and took the corrupted mana heart from Damon’s hand. His expression remained calm, but the weight of his words was undeniable. “For now,” he added, emphasizing the temporal nature of the affliction. His fingers curled around the heart before he swiftly stashed it into the storage pouch alongside the corpses of the fallen beasts.

The silence that followed was thick with the gravity of the situation. I could feel it—the looming realization that these creatures, once noble and powerful, had been reduced to mindless husks by something beyond our current understanding.

But what stood out to me even more was Kalon’s unwavering confidence. Despite the grim reality, I knew that if anyone could find a solution, it would be him. I had seen him decipher ancient grimoires as though they were nothing more than bedtime stories, unlocking the mysteries within at a pace that defied comprehension. His mastery over magic was unparalleled, and the speed at which he grasped new concepts was nothing short of astonishing.

If anyone could unravel the mystery of this manashift and its demonic curse, it would be Kalon. Even in the face of an irreversible madness, there was a glimmer of hope.

We pressed deeper into the ruins, our every step carefully measured as we cut down demons along the way. The outer ring of the Great Ruins was known as a place for young Celestials to gain experience, and while we hadn’t yet reached the middle ring, it was clear that the Lords had no intention of slowing down. Their expressions showed eagerness, a hunger to delve further, to discover something more challenging.

None of the demons we faced so far had been great beasts. They moved in small groups, no more than four at a time, and their strength paled in comparison to the stories we had heard. A sense of relief washed over me—we hadn’t yet come across any great demons, and the mere thought of facing one, or worse, encountering a wraith, made my skin crawl.

Suddenly, I winced, pain shooting through my head as I collided with something hard. Staggering back, I cursed under my breath and looked up to see that what I had bumped into wasn’t a rock at all—it was Master Kalon, standing still as a statue.

His eyes were locked on something in the distance, and as I followed his gaze, my blood ran cold. Hanging from the trees ahead were the carcasses of demons, strung up as though they were nothing more than decorations. Their bodies were twisted and torn, some missing limbs while others had their entrails spilling out, all while suspended in the air by some unseen force.

The sight was gruesome, unnatural, and for the first time on this expedition, a true sense of dread began to settle in my chest. Whatever had done this was no ordinary demon. This was something far worse. Something we weren’t prepared for.

“What… what is this?” Damon whispered, his voice barely audible as he too took in the horrifying scene.

Lord Kalon’s voice, low and steady, cut through the tension like a blade. “This is no natural occurrence. Something—or someone—is hunting these demons.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. If something was capable of hunting and stringing up demons like this, we were walking straight into the lair of a predator far more dangerous than anything we had encountered so far.

The air became thick with a venomous aura, suffocating and paralyzing. My body froze as the overwhelming presence of something far more sinister than anything we'd faced before seeped into my bones. I struggled to breathe, each second stretching into an eternity. It was then that Lord Kalon moved, breaking free of the dark aura surrounding us. His mastery over blood mana was immediate and precise; swirling crimson energy surrounded us and swiftly morphed into a protective mass of flesh, elevating us off the ground.

From this heightened vantage, I could just make out the monstrosity below. The creature was grotesque, a wraith. Two grotesque arms jutted from its back, with an extra head that looked malformed and twisted. Its body was slick with a continuous stream of water, which dripped from its skin, mixing with the mucus that coated its grotesque form. I could sense that it was once part Noden, but there was something else—a darker, unknown race fused into its very being. A perfect, terrifying blend of two powerful species.

The sight alone sent a chill down my spine, but I knew better than to make a sound. Lord Kalon didn’t need to warn me—the sheer dread I felt was enough.

The wraith twitched violently as though trapped in some maddening trance, its body convulsing. From its skin, power-laced bubbles evaporated, floating into the air before dripping to the ground like acid. When they made contact with the blood puppet Lord Kalon had summoned, the protective flesh began to unravel, melting away on contact. The corrosive liquid ate through the puppet as though it were nothing.

“This is bad,” I whispered under my breath, my heart racing. The wraith’s mere presence was enough to undo Kalon’s defensive magic.

Kalon’s face remained calm, though I could see the tension in his eyes. “Stay still. Don’t draw its attention. This thing... it’s far beyond the demons we’ve faced.”

His voice, calm yet filled with caution, kept me from panicking. But the reality of our situation had become crystal clear. This wraith wasn’t just any demon—it was something far more terrifying. And it wasn’t something we could simply cut down.

The air thickened with tension as the wraith released a croaking sound that echoed like a death knell. Acid spewed from its maw, sizzling as it hit the ground. Despite the blood puppet's lifeless guise, the creature could still sense us, its instincts honed to perfection. Lord Kalon, aware of the peril we faced, positioned himself near the gap in the protective mass of flesh, while Damon hovered closely behind him.

“Remain put,” Lord Kalon instructed, his voice firm and authoritative. Relief washed over me as I realized I was sheltered from the chaos unfolding outside. The protective barrier of blood puppets served as our lifeline, and I was determined to remain hidden.

With a flick of his wrist, Lord Kalon reinforced the membrane of flesh surrounding us. Peering through the slim gap, I could see the nightmarish scene unfold before me. The blood puppets, animated by Kalon's magic, surged forward, their grotesque forms charging toward the wraith. They were our only offense, and I could feel the weight of our fate resting on their success.

As the first wave of blood puppets approached, the wraith twisted its disfigured head, its eyes narrowing in malice. In a sudden, fluid motion, it released a torrent of pressurized water. The force was like a tidal wave, crashing through the ranks of the puppets. The sheer power behind it exploded the closest puppets in a violent spray of red and flesh, sending their remnants splattering across the clearing.

“No!” I gasped, my heart racing at the sight of Lord Kalon's creations being obliterated. The wraith's strength was overwhelming, and I knew we were running out of time.

Lord Kalon, however, remained unfazed. “Damon, focus. We can’t let it gauge our position. We need a distraction,” he said, his eyes scanning the battlefield.

Lord Damon nodded, determination etched across his face. “I’ll draw its attention. Just give me a moment.”

I watched in horror as Lord Damon moved toward the edge of the flesh barrier, ready to step into the fray. “No! You can’t!” I whispered, panic rising in my chest.

But Kalon’s grip on me tightened, holding me back. “Trust him, Proteus. We need to buy time.”

As Lord Damon prepared to engage the wraith, I felt a mix of fear and admiration for my Lords. They were willing to risk everything, and I could only hope that their courage would be enough to turn the tide against this monstrous foe.

The chaos around us intensified as Lord Damon seized the moment to launch two blood spikes at the wraith. However, just as they closed in, the wraith unleashed a defensive wave of purple-tinted bubbles that dissolved the incoming spells, dissipating them into nothingness. My heart sank as the flesh of the wraith seamlessly mended itself, an eerie testament to its resilience.

Lord Kalon, unfazed, quickly levitated mana stones into the air. The stones transformed into grotesque forms that I recognized as his blood puppets—twisted amalgamations of flesh and mana. They surged toward the wraith, the anticipation of battle evident in their movements.

The wraith responded with a deafening shriek that sent chills down my spine, and I feared it would alert any nearby wraiths lurking in the shadows. It retaliated with another blast of pressurized water, but this time, the blood puppets withstood the onslaught, their bodies absorbing the blow as they closed the distance between them and the monstrous creature.

“Get ready!” Lord Kalon shouted, urging us to focus.

The blood puppets locked onto the wraith, one gripping its mouth to stifle its horrifying cries. Yet, even as they fought, the wraith’s additional arms grasped one of the puppets, wrenching it away with unsettling strength. The remaining puppets attempted to feast upon it, but the noxious poison swirling around the wraith struck them down like autumn leaves in a storm.

“Launch as many blood spikes towards the wraith!” Lord Kalon commanded, pointing decisively.

Lord Damon nodded, channeling his energy, and blood spikes shot forth, lashing into the wraith’s chest. The concentrated assault created a miniature gap in its defenses. Seizing the opportunity, one demon puppet forced its hand through the opening, morphing into a mass of blood thorns that impaled the wraith's insides, eliciting a howl of rage and pain.

I watched in awe as Lord Kalon orchestrated the battle with precision, his confidence evident as he manipulated the blood puppets with fluid movements. The wraith, now visibly weakened, struggled against its bindings, thrashing wildly in an attempt to free itself.

“Don’t let up!” Lord Kalon shouted, rallying us. “We have to press the advantage before it can recover!”

With renewed determination, I felt the weight of the moment settle upon me. This was our chance to confront the horror that had plagued the ruins, and I was ready to stand with my comrades against it.

The wraith staggered, its grotesque form collapsing to the ground in a final, desperate attempt to unleash a burst of poison that erupted outward, the noxious fumes swirling around us. I quickly cut through the thick flesh with my knife, making my way toward the lords, who looked visibly strained from the encounter.

"That was just one wraith," Lord Damon said, his voice tense. "I can’t imagine facing multiple at once. And to think we’d find one within the outer zone... We should head back before more come."

There was a noticeable hesitation in Master Kalon at Lord Damon's words. In that moment, we all shared a silent hope that he would agree, our expressions a mix of concern and urgency. After a brief pause, he let out a defeated sigh and began storing the wraith's corpse into his storage ring.

"Let’s head back," Kalon finally agreed, his tone heavy with the weight of the encounter.