I took to the skies.
At first, it was an ugly, desperate struggle. I wobbled midair, tilting dangerously too far to the left, then the right nearly spiraling into a terrifying free fall more than once. My stomach lurched into my throat as the ground rushed up to meet me.
"Damn!"
I plummeted several meters before barely stabilizing myself, my heart thundering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The cold, biting wind slammed against my face, and for a second, panic threatened to drown my focus.
…But slowly, the chaos subsided.
I learned to find the rhythm of the mana flowing through my veins. I figured out how to balance the output, letting the updrafts carry me instead of fighting the atmosphere. And then suddenly I wasn't falling. I was flying.
"Alright," I muttered, my voice steadying as I leveled out above the clouds. "I think I've got the hang of this."
With one hand maintaining my flight path, I pulled out the final book. Its worn, obsidian-colored cover shimmered under the morning sun, the title embossed in silver: Types of Demons and Magical Stones.
"…Stones?" I raised an eyebrow, the wind whipping my white hair around my face.
"That's new."
I opened the book carefully, my fingers gripping the edges tight as the pages fluttered violently in the gale.
> "Royal demons are divided into three distinct archetypes, determined by their physical manifestation and the nature of their core."
The first illustration was a brutal depiction of a towering demon with skin like cracked basalt, shattering a mountain range with a single, bare-handed strike.
> "Sheer Strength Demons
> These entities convert raw magical power directly into physical kinetic energy. They are the heralds of ruin, capable of reshaping landscapes through brute force alone."
"So, the muscle," I nodded, skimming ahead. I flipped the page to find intricate diagrams of swirling vortices.
> "Elemental Demons
> Masters of the four cardinal elements Fire, Water, Air, and Earth. Their techniques demand immense mana reserves and decades of mental discipline.
They are the architects of the realm, responsible for forging enchanted artifacts, royal heirlooms, and indestructible armor."
"…So that explains the jacket," I mused, glancing down at my shifting black attire.
Then came the final section. The air around me seemed to drop ten degrees, a sudden frost creeping along the edges of the book.
> "Immortal Demons
> These beings exist outside the flow of time and do not age. However, eternity demands a price. To maintain their stasis, they must consume the essence of low-ranking demons once every decade."
"…That's messed up," I whispered, a knot of disgust forming in my stomach.
> "In exchange for this predatory existence, they possess infinite adaptability and an unmatched cognitive speed. They learn in seconds what others master in years."
My eyes widened as I turned the page. The air grew heavy with a static charge.
There she was again.
The illustration showed a woman standing amidst a field of white lilies stained with blood. Her hair flowed like fresh snow beneath a pale, dying moon.
Her eyes were a deep, violent crimson, overflowing with a hunger that felt tangible even through the ink.
Beneath the image, the text was written in bold, jagged letters: The Witch of Chaos.
> "She is the only known entity to have mastered all elements simultaneously. She is the pinnacle of the Immortal Class. But her bloodlust eventually consumed her reason, leading her to rampage through the heart of the realm, devouring nearly half of the demon race before she was subdued."
"…Half," I whispered in genuine shock. I looked at the map. I was heading straight for a monster that had nearly ended my species.
> "A Demon Lord sealed her within the heart of the Runes. Once one enters, there is no return. Yet, history records that she has escaped once before, though in a weakened state. She was resealed, her power further suppressed."
I exhaled slowly, my breath visible in the thin air. I turned to the next chapter: Magical Stones.
It started with the basics stones for amplification, stones for elemental shifting. But then, my eyes hit a section that seemed to absorb the very light of the sun.
The Black Stone of Chaos.
>"The Black Stone contains immeasurable, primordial power. Legend states that after the Great War, the Goddess of Creation was torn apart by grief. She shed a single tear that fell into the Demon Realm. When a demon first touched this crystalline tear, it turned obsidian black. The power was so volatile it disintegrated the host instantly."
My throat went dry. My fingers trembled against the parchment.
> "Caution: Using the stone carries a high risk of total ego-death. The body is often destroyed from the inside out as the mana exceeds the physical vessel's capacity. Only the Witch of Chaos knows its true location."
I closed the book slowly, my mind reeling. Goddess? A single tear? None of the school texts mentioned a creator. Who was she?.
"I don't care about gods," I said, my voice hardening into a cold, sharp blade of resolve. "And I don't care about the risk. All I care about is the power to change this pathetic status quo."
Two hours later
I slowed my flight, hovering over a desolate, jagged wasteland. Below me lay a massive, circular structure carved directly into the bedrock of the world. Ancient runes glowed along its perimeter, pulsing with a deep, rhythmic violet light that felt like a heartbeat against my own chest.
At the center was a radiant, swirling void. The air twisted violently, and the very mana in the atmosphere seemed to be screaming in protest.
"…So this is it. The Runes."
Suddenly, the gateway flared. A titanic, invisible force grabbed hold of my body, dragging me downward with the weight of a falling star. I tried to flare my mana to resist, but the void simply inhaled my energy.
"Tch… figures!"
I let my body go limp, refusing to fight the inevitable. If this place wanted me, it could have me.
The pull intensified. My bones groaned under the atmospheric pressure. My chest felt like it was being crushed by a mountain. I opened my mouth to shout, but the sound was swallowed by the roar of the vortex.
Everything went white, then a blinding, absolute black.
The Runes had swallowed me whole.