Dragon King: Throne of Demons and Gods-Chapter 50: A Monster’s Feast

The night was calm, only some distant nocturnal sounds kept the forest alive. Bel sat beneath the vast canopy, his body finally at rest.

After a while, he felt replenished, as if he had slept for an entire night despite only having sat down.

He glanced at his palms, fingers flexing instinctively. Then, he closed his eyes.

A deep breath.

Focus.

He reached inward, searching for the form he had now confirmed to exist, his Draconic Form. At first, it was like chasing a shadow, something intangible.

But then, a flicker, like an invisible muscle long dormant. The sensation of something more, something within his flesh, something present.

The light pulsed in his mind's eye, like a heartbeat beneath his skin.

Then, suddenly, he felt it.

A connection, a tether to something deeper. His body recognized it before his mind did, a memory written in instinct rather than thought.

Slowly, his power began to surge, his aura unfurling like spreading embers. His claws ached to extend, his teeth to sharpen, he was transforming.

But then, a sharp pulse from his hand.

The ring on his finger twinkled, the magic crystal embedded within flickering wildly.

His heightened senses instantly warned him, the artifact was on the brink of exploding.

Bel stopped immediately, halting the transformation. He let go of the full transformation, allowing only a semi-draconic state.

His teeth remained sharp, his claws extended, but nothing more.

He stood, rolling his shoulders, his gaze sweeping over his own form. No exhaustion. That was like the usual sauce.

the feeling felt so natural that he realized something.

"Was I constantly in a semi-draconic state before?" Bel muttered to himself. "Is that why my stamina drained without me noticing?"

If so, that meant maintaining his transformation passively was already consuming resources, his body had simply adjusted over time.

But when he had fully transformed back then, his stamina had dropped too fast. His recovery couldn't keep up anymore, it was the risk of the transformation itself.

That meant one thing: his stamina wasn't enough.

"170 should be enough, right?" he muttered dryly.

It was a ridiculous number, his strength was on that range and it was incredible . But for stamina, apparently, it wasn't.

He sighed, shaking his head before clenching his fist.

"No. That's the wrong way to think about it." He exhaled sharply, clenching his fist. "It's only 170, it could be bigger. I have ways to do it, so I shouldn't stick to lower numbers. I'll increase it. I have to increase it. And not just stamina... everything."

His crimson eyes flicked to his other hand, where the massive core of the dungeon boss still pulsed. His fingers curled around it as he lifted it to his mouth.

Blowing lightly on the surface, he bared his fangs, opening his mouth wide to consume it whole.

Except, it was too big.

He tried pushing it further but found himself unable to fit it in his mouth. His jaw simply wasn't large enough to accommodate the sheer size.

Another thought surfaced, an intrusive one.

My bite force is incredible... I've already crushed smaller magic cores with less effort. So...

A simple test.

He sank his teeth into the core, applying pressure.

A slow, deliberate push.

The surface resisted at first, but then, a crack. A small one, then another, spiderwebbing through the smooth surface. The pressure built. He clenched his jaw tighter. And then...

SNAP.

The core fractured like mineral stone, shards breaking off in his mouth. A foul, oozing aura spilled from within, saturating the air with a thick, disgusting presence.

Bel didn't flinch.

He chewed. The texture was gritty, almost like crushed gemstones mixed with something organic. He chewed again, grinding the shards between his fangs.

The sickly energy pulsed through his body, coiling down his throat like molten sludge.

Then, he swallowed.

Instantly, the energy surged through his veins, spreading like wildfire.

His heart pounded.

He raised the core again, ready to take another bite when...

THUMP.

His chest tightened, his breath catching as his body reacted. His aura flared violently, spiraling outward in a burst of purple flames.

His veins burned, glowing through his skin with a dark light, pulsing.

A wave of energy spiraled upward, then, a sharp ping in his mind.

Bel sighed, stretching his arms above his head as he leaned back against the rough bark of a tree. The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hoots and rustling of nocturnal creatures. He knew he had to return to town soon to collect his share of the raid's rewards. Gold. A reward that many adventurers eagerly anticipated.

But did he really need it right now?

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. There were far more interesting things at hand than coins.

[+5 Toughness]

[+4 Speed]

[+3 Stamina]

[New Skill Acquired: Toxic]

Effect: Claw and Fang attacks have a 33% chance to inflict POISON status.

POISON: Reduces target's HP by 5% per second for 5 seconds. Stacks up to 3 times. Each stack refreshes the duration.

Bel's eyes widened slightly as he flexed his fingers, watching the faint sheen coating his claws. These things... were poisonous now?

For the first time in a while, his pulse quickened. His calm composure cracked just slightly, giving way to a deep, bubbling excitement.

He needed a test subject. Now.

His mind raced. This was beyond useful. An entirely new layer of power added to his arsenal.

Burn and Poison... If he could land a few solid hits and trigger both of them, his enemies would crumble in seconds, he wouldn't even have to finish them off.

He needed another raid. Immediately.

Bel reached for the ring on his finger, ready to return to town when a thought flickered through his mind. His fingers stilled.

His crimson eyes dropped to the small, glimmering crystal embedded in the ring.

A magic crystal... no... a magic core.

His gaze sharpened. He had already learned that devouring cores granted him abilities, and this thing was definitely the reward from a raid. So maybe...

Only one way to find out.

Silently, he pried the crystal from its setting, rolling it between his fingertips. It was small, smooth, and radiating faint mana.

Without hesitation, he flicked his wrist and tossed it into his mouth, biting down.

A familiar sensation hit him instantly.

[New Skill Acquired: Conceal]

Effect: Completely suppresses the user's presence, making them undetectable to normal senses and basic detection abilities.

Bel gasped slightly before a slow, wicked smile spread across his lips.

This was it.

The final solution to his presence problem.

With this, he wouldn't just be able to reduce his presence, he could erase it entirely.

No one would sense him. No one would track him. He could vanish at will.

His fingers curled into a fist, his breath steadying. This was more than just an ability, this was a confirmation... Of a terrifying ability.

Every magical core he consumed granted him power.

He wanted more.

No.

He needed more.

Days had passed, and the usual bustle of the guild bar filled the air.

Adventurers were gathered in their usual corners, drinking, laughing, and sharing stories of their exploits. The scent of roasted meat and ale lingered, blending with the scent of sweat and steel.

It was just another evening, the kind that made the guild feel like home.

At one of the tables, Crest and his party were enjoying themselves, mugs clinking together in celebration.

Laughter rippled through their small group, teasing remarks flying across the table.

Then, with a dramatic motion, a boy wearing an animal fur cape slammed his foot onto the table, drawing attention to himself. His sharp grin was brimming with excitement.

"Alright, listen up! It's time we step up our game! These small monster exterminations aren't enough anymore! We're moving on to raids!"

The group immediately burst into laughter, shaking their heads.

"How much did you drink this time, Ronan?" the swordsman smirked, taking a sip from his mug.

"I'm serious!" Ronan protested, glaring at them. "We've been stuck doing these petty exterminations for too long! It's time we take on something bigger! Stronger monsters, better rewards! Think of the glory!"

His enthusiasm was met with more teasing, but then, the elf of their party chuckled, brushing her blond hair back.

"He may have a point," she mused, her tone light. "We've been doing well lately. Our funds are stable, and our skills have improved. Maybe it's time we take the next step?"

Crest glanced at her, then at the rest of the party. He had to admit, the idea was tempting. They had been making steady progress, but at this pace, they weren't truly testing their limits.

The tall man sitting beside the elf, his long, elegant hair framing falling on his back, nodded in agreement.

"If we wish to be ready for the coming war, we must improve. Stronger opponents mean better experience."

Crest crossed his arms, a slow smile forming on his lips. This was it. The real test. He had just been promoted to Copper Rank, and now, it was time to prove his worth.

He looked around at his companions, feeling a surge of pride. Being part of a party, sharing battles, knowledge, and camaraderie, he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Then, a muscular warrior leaned forward, arms resting on the table as he spoke bluntly.

"So, Crest, are your friends tagging along again?"

Crest blinked, meeting his gaze. The warrior was one to speak without filters, never sugarcoating his words.

"Your three friends have been joining us for quests a little too much, haven't they?" the warrior continued, voice gruff. "But it's time to face facts, this is an adventurer party, not a picnic."

Crest's brows furrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means they don't pull their weight," another party member chimed in, shrugging. "They're always around, but do they actually do anything? I mean, the girls are fine, because... but the pipsqueak...?"

The group murmured in agreement.

"They talk a lot but don't contribute much," the warrior added. "We're going into serious raids now, Crest. We can't afford dead weight."

A woman, their mage, smirked as she swirled her drink.

"I understand your concern, Crest, but they're right. For someone with talent, you really do have a strange taste in companions."

The words stung, but Crest wasn't sure how to argue. He wanted to defend them, but deep down, he knew that his friends weren't fighters like the rest of them. They had their strengths, but in a real battle...

The elf beside him, sensing his hesitation, stood up gracefully.

"Let's not dwell on it now. We still need to find a suitable raid. I'll check with the guild counter."

Without waiting for a response, she walked off, leaving the rest of the party behind.

At the guild counter, the elf scanned the available raid postings.

There were several options, but most were ranked Category D or C, far too difficult for their first raid. Even so, she wasn't willing to back down just yet.

With a determined sigh, she leaned forward and addressed the guild staff member behind the counter.

"Is there a way to... overlook our copper rank and take on a Category D dungeon?"

The woman at the counter didn't even hesitate before shaking her head firmly.

"Absolutely not."

The elf huffed in frustration, crossing her arms.

"Come on! Isn't there some way around it? We're more than capable. We've handled everything we've taken on so far."

The guild staff member raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Rules exist for a reason, old lady. If we let anyone take on whatever raid they wanted, we'd be scraping adventurers' corpses off dungeon floors every day."

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The elf wasn't ready to give up. She leaned in dramatically.

"Pretty please? Think about all these candies I bought you when you were cuter. Just this once? Do it that poor granny far from home."

The staff woman sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You really don't give up, do you?"

The elf grinned.

"Not when it matters."

"Well," the woman said after a moment, "there is an alternative."

The elf's ears twitched with interest.

"I'm listening."

"You could hire the services of an iron-ranked adventurer," the staff woman explained. "That's the minimal requirement for entering a Category D dungeon."

The elf's enthusiasm faded instantly.

"Hiring? Ourselves? With what money?"

The staff woman shrugged.

"That's up to you to figure out."

The elf groaned, rubbing her temples.

"How much does it even cost to hire someone?"

"It depends. Some adventurers charge based on the difficulty of the quest, others based on their own rank and experience. And then you have those who demand an absurd cut of the final reward."

The elf scowled.

"So basically, the greedier the adventurer, the more we pay."

"Pretty much," the woman agreed with a smirk.

The elf clicked her tongue, feeling a headache forming. Just when she was about to give up, the guild woman leaned in slightly and lowered her voice.

"But there is another way."

The elf narrowed her eyes.

"Eh... I knew you had it in you. Go on."

"There's a new adventurer who's been making waves lately. His efficiency is off the charts, and the guild is already considering promoting him to iron rank soon."

The elf blinked.

"Consider? Then he's not actually iron-ranked?"

The woman shook her head.

"Not yet. But listen carefully. The guild is currently keeping an eye on him, trying to confirm his true potential. So if you take this as a mission of the guild, help us assess him, we'll double your reward."

The elf stayed silent, digesting the information.

"Wait. Why is the guild investigating one of its own adventurers?"

The woman smiled, but there was something unreadable in her gaze.

"Let's just say he's... apparently not normal. And we need to confirm it."

Something about that answer made the elf uneasy, but she pushed the feeling aside.

"Fine. Who is he?"

The guild staff woman's smirk widened as she answered.

"His name is...."