"What an intoxicating sensation!"
Muria couldn't help but show a look of satisfaction as he savored the euphoric feeling of power flowing endlessly into him through the Stone Heart in his grasp.
Slow and steady cultivation never brought about such a dramatic surge in strength. Normally, growth through training was so incremental it was almost imperceptible; only after years of effort would the difference become obvious.
"You're absorbing my power, but sooner or later, you'll end up like me, hahaha! You'll lose everything to the demon god!" The Bellwind King, whose power was being drained away, had fully succumbed to despair.
"Unfortunately for you, you won't be around to see it." Muria, fully allowing his instincts to take over and guide the absorption of the Bellwind King's power, responded calmly.
The process of absorption required no conscious effort on his part. His innate instincts were handling everything seamlessly. Initially, the power within the Stone Heart had resisted. But as more of its energy was drained, that resistance melted away.
By the end, the energy within the Stone Heart was actively flowing into Muria, eager to merge with him, to become part of his being.
"Oh, no, I misspoke. It's not that you won't see it—it's that such a thing will never happen," Muria added, enjoying the feeling of his strength rapidly surging.
"I…"
Bang!
Before the Bellwind King could finish speaking, Muria clenched his fist, crushing the crystalline heart in his hand. The once-glistening, jewel-like artifact shattered into a fine, sparkling powder that dispersed into the air.
Moments later, the sparkling crystalline dust transformed into streams of earthy yellow light, rushing into Muria's body. As the last traces of yellow light disappeared, another force emerged—light, clear, and ethereal. This was the power of wind, and it, too, eagerly integrated itself into Muria.
"Roar!"
Overcome by the exhilarating growth of his power, Muria let out a primal roar, his voice reverberating across the battlefield. The battlefield fell utterly silent in response.
"The Bellwind King is dead! Surrender now, and you will be spared!"
The voice of the Yanmo King, majestic and thunderous like the roar of a god, echoed through the battlefield. His fiery eyes, glowing like molten spheres of metal, swept over the soldiers below, radiating an aura of undeniable dominance.
Surrender, and you will be spared!
After a brief moment of stunned silence, a sharp-witted officer among the Celestial Empire's troops shouted out the surrender terms. His cry was immediately echoed by the rest of the soldiers, their voices rising in unison.
Faced with the prospect of survival, the Bellwind Kingdom's soldiers abandoned their will to fight. They had just witnessed the fall of their king and knew there was no hope of victory.
The clatter of weapons falling to the ground rang out in succession as the enemy soldiers dropped their arms. Under the watchful eyes of the Celestial Empire's troops, they slowly knelt in surrender.
Hovering above, Muria watched as his soldiers began to process the prisoners of war.
He was fully aware of the nature of his army. Despite their loud proclamations of mercy, those shouts were mere performances for him. If given the chance, his soldiers would slaughter every enemy before them. After all, every head taken translated into military merit—a currency highly valued by both common soldiers and high-ranking officers.
Muria remained vigilant throughout the process, ensuring that no prisoners were secretly executed for the sake of false claims of merit. He knew better than to expect his soldiers to exhibit high moral standards; such expectations were simply unrealistic.
Thus, under Muria's direct supervision, the largest prisoner-processing operation since the introduction of the military merit system was carried out. With Muria personally overseeing the process, there were no major incidents.
Once the prisoners had been secured and Muria was confident that his soldiers wouldn't cause trouble, he turned and flew toward the Celestial Empire's capital, a city that had been built less than five years ago. He could feel a predictable change occurring within his body—one he needed to address immediately.
…
"Your power has grown again," Mikaela remarked as she gazed at Muria, who had appeared by tearing through space itself. Her brow furrowed slightly, for the Muria standing before her felt unfamiliar, even alien.
"So, you can sense it too," Muria replied with a faint smile, noticing the change in her expression.
"What's inside you?" Mikaela asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"My strength has nearly doubled. What else could it be?" Muria, now in his human form, appearing as a valiant young man, rubbed his chest with a wry smile.
"This is happening faster than you anticipated," Mikaela noted.
"That's a good thing, isn't it? It means the Bellwind King was even stronger than I expected. By claiming his power, I've become even more formidable."
"Do you need my help?" Mikaela offered.
"No need. The consciousness that's stirring inside me is still very weak. I can handle it myself."
"Don't underestimate this. Remember, this is the will of an epic being far stronger than you."
"I know," Muria said, settling into a meditative position in mid-air. He looked at his wife with calm determination. "I'm about to eradicate the consciousness sprouting within me. During this process, I'll relinquish all control over my body. I leave the safety of my reincarnated form in your hands."
"Focus on what you need to do. I'll handle everything else," Mikaela assured him.
"Alright." Muria closed his eyes and began his work.
…
Within the sea of his consciousness, Muria stood in a dark void, staring up at a massive sun radiating seven colors of light. Its brilliance was so overwhelming that a profound sense of insignificance welled up within him. But Muria quickly suppressed that feeling.
"It's been a while since I've felt this weak," Muria murmured, raising his hand to examine it. His hand was translucent, almost ghostly, as if it might dissolve at any moment—a form typical of a fragile, ordinary consciousness.
"To think, even within my own mind, I've been stripped of all my power," Muria muttered, turning his faintly glowing hand over and over in fascination. By all rights, his consciousness should reflect his reincarnated form's immense strength.
Yet here, he was a mere mortal. This fact spoke volumes: the power his reincarnated body wielded had never truly been his.
Boom! Boom!
A sound like war drums echoed through the void. The seven-colored sun before him began to pulse, its light expanding and contracting rhythmically. A suffocating pressure filled the void, pressing down on Muria.
"I wonder how the others before me felt—those who, like me, sought to collect the power of epics and reached the threshold of awakening their wills. How hopeless must they have been in the face of this?" Muria mused, his thoughts wandering as he watched cracks form on the surface of the seven-colored sun, threatening to tear it apart.
"You're so weak. Pathetic, really. You've gathered so little of my power," came a voice filled with disappointment. It emanated from the seven-colored sun, its tone dripping with disdain.
"No, that's not my fault. You woke up too early. If you'd stayed dormant for another century or two, I'd have gathered all your power by now," Muria retorted without a hint of fear.
"…" The sun's brilliance flared momentarily, as if stunned into silence. Its inhabitant seemed unprepared for such audacious backtalk.
"Why so quiet? Cat got your tongue?" Muria taunted.
"Do you not know fear, insect? Have you no sense of reverence?" the voice rumbled after a long pause, its tone incredulous.
"I understand what reverence is," Muria replied, "but you don't deserve mine."
"Pitiful worm!"
A low sigh echoed through the void. The entity within the sun wasn't angered by Muria's insolence. To it, such arrogance was beneath its notice.
Crack!
The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the void as brilliant fissures appeared across the sun's surface. Moments later, it shattered, and the being within emerged, radiating a light so intense it filled Muria's entire vision.
Light—boundless, all-encompassing light—spread through the void.
Even in his own mind, Muria couldn't clearly see the entity before him. His vision was overwhelmed by the seven-colored radiance that stretched endlessly in all directions.
An indescribable, oppressive presence filled the void, making Muria feel as though his very consciousness might dissolve into nothingness.
"I am reborn once more!" The being's voice thundered, shaking the entire space. It was filled with both triumph and nostalgia.
"Mind if I ask? How many times have you been reborn since your fall?" Despite the oppressive aura threatening to snuff him out, Muria remained calm and composed.
"…" The light-filled void fell silent, the question catching the being off guard.
"Why are you still here?" The entity finally spoke again, its tone laced with confusion. By all logic, Muria's consciousness should have been obliterated the moment its will awakened.
"Why would I disappear?" Muria replied. As he spoke, a crimson glow began to spread from the center of his chest, rapidly covering his translucent form.
Moments later, his ethereal body began to transform. Features of a **
Balor Flame Demon**—horns, wings, and fiery armor—emerged, shocking the newly awakened epic consciousness.
"How can you still wield my power?" the entity demanded, its voice tinged with disbelief. Within the void now filled with light, streaks of green grew more pronounced, reflecting the entity's growing agitation.
"You're mistaken," Muria said, his expression unwavering. "This isn't your power anymore. It's mine."
______
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