From Demonling to Demon God

The daily kill quota arrived at dawn, carried by a clerk who did not bother to look at anyone’s face.

”All Squads and Vanguards,” he read from a slate. ”Daily assignment. Five hundred Early Stage Demon Awakening Realm beasts. Two hundred Middle Stage. Squad total, not per head. The seal records your kills, preventing anyone from slacking off.” After saying his piece, he walked off.

Varkos let out a low whistle. ”That’s seven hundred in total.”

”Yeah,” said Serah.

”Fine by me. We should go into the thick of it to finish the quota quickly..”

Koda said nothing for a moment. The numbers were big, but he had the three of them to measure them against, plus the minor demons under his squad. Peak Stage Awakening Realm demons could clear Early and Middle Stage beasts all day if they without exerting much effort. The real question was where they would see a large number of beasts to kill.

The military did not care how they did it. Miss the count, and rations got cut, or worse. The seal on his shoulder gave a faint, dull pulse, as though a warning.

”We shouldn’t go for the high competition grounds,” he said. ”but a hunting ground that we can control. Visibility, room to move, more than one way out. Seven hundred kills means nothing if we’re trapped or being attacked by other squads.”

Serah nodded. ”The eastern rim should do fine. The ridges there are open, and the beasts come down to the water at midday.”

”Then that’s our route.”

Varkos shrugged, but he didn’t argue.

---

The eastern rim was a long, rolling slope of black rock, broken by shallow ravines. Koda put the minor squads on the high ground, with orders to kill the Early Stage beasts that drifted their way and nothing else. He kept his own three in the middle, where the Middle Stage packs came through.

The first hours went cleanly.

Ash-hounds came out of the ravines in packs of six and eight, and Varkos met them head on, flame in his fists. Serah moved along the flank, cutting hamstrings and throats as the hounds turned. Koda slipped between them, talons out, finishing whatever the others left standing. He kept his steps short and his strikes precise, wasting no energy. The beasts died quickly.

He kept count of the kills as they went. By noon they were past the halfway mark, with barely a scratch between them.

That was when another squad showed up.

There were eleven of them, all in Vanguard-issue armor, spreading across the ridge above the water. Their leader was a heavy-set demon with a scarred jaw. He stopped thirty paces away and looked at the pile of carcasses behind Koda’s squad.

”This is our hunting ground now,” he called, haughtily. ”Everyone, fuck off!”

Koda understood the problem. The military had handed out quotas and hunting territory that couldn’t feed them all, and when two or more squads landed on the same hunting ground, it could spell a bloodbath.

”There’s enough for both of us if we split it,” Serah said, before he could reply. ”You take the north half of the ridge. We keep the south.”

”The north half’s picked over.”

”Then take the eastern ravines. We’ll stay out of them.”

The leader smiled slowly. ”Or you pack up and leave.”

”I don’t think we will.”

”Then you don’t live... You can stay here forever.” the demon said, and lifted his hand.

Since there was no room for a compromise, fighting was inevitable.

”Varkos, front! Serah, left! Minor squads, hold the high ground!”

Eleven demons charged down the slope in a loose wedge. Koda’s three met them at the foot of the ridge.

Varkos hit the center like a boulder. His flames roared, driving two of the enemy back and splitting the wedge. The scarred leader came straight at him, heavy axe swinging, and Varkos took the blow on a forearm wrapped in fire.

Serah went left. She dropped under a spear thrust, rolled, and drove her blade through the spearman’s thigh. When he fell, she opened his throat. She did not hesitate, and she did not look away.

Koda took the right.

A swordsman rushed him, and he sidestepped, caught the blade against his armor, and stepped in. The talons went in under the ribs. KRRSHK. The swordsman dropped dead.

Two more closed from either side. Koda ducked low, spun, and cut through the first one’s lower half, then drove an elbow into the second one’s face. Serah’s blade ended the second before he recovered.

”Left, two more!” she called.

”I see them!”

Varkos had the leader on his knees, but the man still swung wildly, with desperation, and a lucky blow scraped across Varkos’s shoulder. Varkos roared and slammed a burning fist into his chest.

Koda crossed the gap in four strides and put both talons through the last standing enemy’s back.

Everywhere went quiet.

Eleven bodies lay on the slope; twelve, if you add the upper half of the demon. They had come to take the ground by force, and they had died trying.

Koda stood over them and breathed.

He did not feel triumph. Instead, he felt a hard, tired clarity. The fight had been avoidable, in principle. But a squad that was left alive would have come back, and they would have brought friends.

”Anyone hurt?” he asked.

”Just a minor scratch,” said Varkos, wiping his shoulder.

”Fine,” said Serah.

”Good.”

---

The essence from the hunt, and from the dead Vanguard squad, was richer than anything Koda had gotten in a while. Koda felt it hovering over the slope like heatwave.

The Devouring Origin woke at once.

It wanted all of it. He could feel the hunger, wide and eager, reaching toward every body on the ridge. If he let it, the surge would be enormous.

’And the seal would sense it,’ he thought.

He closed his eyes and held the hunger back a bit. Then he let it take in thin portions, to avoid the seal noticing anything. The portions slid into his Core Seed with barely a ripple. He felt his reserves fill a little, and the seed transformation improving a bit.

The rest he left behind. It was hard, like walking away from a banquet. But he did not look back.

His Core Seed still stayed where it was, at early formed stage, steady and dense.

They finished the quota at dusk.

The last Middle Stage hound fell a little after sunset. By then the minor squads had come down from the ridge, carrying the Early Stage carcasses they had collected.

Koda checked the counts twice against what the seal would read, and sorted the carcasses by category so nothing would be misfiled.

At the reporting post, a clerk laid a slate against Koda’s crest. The seal on his shoulder pulsed once, a thin line of heat, and the slate lit.

”Five hundred early-stage Awakening Beasts, and two hundred middle-stage Awakening Beasts,” the clerk read. ”Completed.”

Koda let the air out of his lungs slowly, in relief.

As the squad turned away, he noticed a few demons from other units standing near the post. They were watching his squad; as they noticed their intact armor and the lack of wounds. One of them gave a short nod, a few looked away quickly, and others only scoffed and walked away.

Koda understood that reputation was a kind of resource. It could keep people from testing you, but it could also make them curious. He did not want to be an easy target, but he did not want to be a legend either.

He turned and led his squad back toward camp.