The Author's Viewpoint-Chapter 115 - Where the Horn Grows

Tave and Panpan stepped out from behind the trees, their boots crunching lightly over the underbrush as they entered a part of the forest where the trees grew more sparsely. Yet this wasn’t the place where the swamp hydra lurked.

Because... Just ahead, a large boulder stood, and slumped against it was a figure, bloodied and battered, barely clinging to life.

Not far from the wounded figure, another shape emerged from the shadows. A massive shadow wolf, its piercing eyes watching silently as it took a seated position, almost like a sentinel.

Tave allowed himself a faint smile as he walked closer to the dying figure. The demon’s black armor was cracked and bloodied, and a single horn jutted from the right side of his forehead.

"You bastards..." the demon growled, his voice raw. "Rot in the deepest, darkest pit of the Abyss!"

"Still got that mouth on you," Tave said coolly. "Not bad for someone half-dead."

"You think you’ve won something?" the demon barked, coughing. "You’ve done nothing. Cut off one limb, and ten more grow in its place."

"Sounds familiar," Tave muttered. "Didn’t the last one say the same thing before we burned him alive?"

"We’re everywhere," the demon snapped. "We’re the tide that never stops rising. You think you’re special? You’re insects."

Tave took a slow step forward. "Then why do you sound so desperate?"

"I’m not desperate," the demon hissed. "I’m pissed. You think this ends with me? This is just the beginning. The real ones, the true ones, they’re coming. And when they do, you’ll scream for death."

Tave raised an eyebrow. "Cute speech. Want us to clap?"

"You mock me now," the demon growled, "but when your homes are ash and your friends are screaming in the dark, you’ll remember this."

"I’ll remember how much you talk," Tave said, eyes narrowing. "And how little it ever means."

The truth was, the demon had managed to escape the earlier battle. But Fang had tracked him down before he could get far. Fortunately, the demon was already on the verge of death, making him no longer a serious threat to Tave and Panpan... at least for now.

Tave’s left hand rose slowly, a faint black flame flickering to life in his palm. Without hesitation, he grabbed the demon’s face. The demon screamed, thrashing wildly, trying to fight back. Until a sharp whistle sliced through the air.

Panpan’s arrow struck home, pinning the demon’s arm against the stone. He howled in agony, jerking uselessly as blood streamed down his side. Still, he struggled, his voice a mixture of pain and fury, refusing to give in despite the overwhelming torment burning into him from both sides.

But Tave didn’t tighten his grip to kill.

He wasn’t here to end this quickly.

He had thought about this long and hard, gone over every possibility in his mind. And he had come to a single, heavy decision. There was no other way forward. No safer route. This was the only path he could take, and he had made peace with it.

He had already told Panpan about his plan. At first, she’d responded with concern, maybe even fear. But she hadn’t tried to stop him.

And truthfully, that was part of why he’d brought her along. Every time he used Bloodline Override, it drained him until he collapsed. He needed someone to be there when that happened. Someone he trusted more than anyone else.

That someone... was Panpan.

So yeah. He had made up his mind.

"Are we really doing this here, Tave?" Panpan asked quietly.

Tave nodded slowly. "Yeah. This spot’s safe enough, at least until morning."

The demon, writhing seconds ago, was now silent. His face burned and consumed by Soul Fire, his senses likely gone. Sight, sound, everything, obliterated by the dark flame.

Tave knelt down as he began drawing the magic formation onto the forest floor.

Once the circle was complete, he dragged the weakened demon into its center, binding him with chains to make sure there was no resistance in the process.

This demon... Among the options, this target had the most compatible attributes. Shadow and Fire. Just like him. A perfect fit.

Even more important, performing a Bloodline Override on an intelligent creature like this would grant far greater power than using a mindless sacrificial monster. The risk was higher, but so was the reward.

Of course, Tave knew what this meant. After tonight, he might no longer be fully human. Some part of the demon would live on inside him. He might grow horns... maybe even inherit this demon’s skin color.

He exhaled slowly.

Still better than dying here and becoming nothing more than a forgotten name on a grave.

Only with Bloodline Override could he push past his current limits. Maybe even challenge a Gaia Master, if it came to that.

This was the chance he couldn’t let go.

Half-human, half-demon? That didn’t sound so bad. Especially when he remembered the original protagonist. Theo had done the exact same thing. By the end of his journey, three-quarters of Theo’s being was demon, though he still looked completely human.

Appearance could be managed. If horns really did grow, they could be hidden with accessories. Headpieces, helmets, even a hat. Something to figure out later.

What mattered now was the gain.

With their elemental affinities in perfect sync, Tave stood to gain a massive surge in power from this override.

More than that, demons possessed strength that far exceeded the human average. They moved faster, struck harder, and could endure pain with terrifying resilience. It was as if they were born for the battlefield. Crafted by nature itself to fight, to dominate.

There were countless advantages to fusing with a demon’s bloodline, and Tave had considered them all. He’d spent days imagining the possible outcomes, plotting every scenario where he could turn this new edge into overwhelming force. Enhanced reflexes. Superior combat instinct. Increased magical tolerance. Greater durability.

Yes. This was it.

No more hesitations. No regrets.

He had made his decision.

No turning back.

Tave took a sharp breath and sliced the tip of his finger open, letting the blood drip freely. With a flick of his wrist, he cast the crimson droplets onto the demon’s scorched body. The blood sizzled on contact, merging instantly into the magic circle as if completing some unholy contract.

He moved back slightly, settling cross-legged beside the formation. His eyes shut slowly.

Silence.

He drowned out every voice in his head. Every whisper of doubt, every last rational thought that begged him to reconsider. No more hesitation. No more what-ifs.

Knowing how Bloodline Override worked in theory was one thing. But now, doing it was something else entirely.

To willingly sever ties with his human self, even partly... yeah, it was madness. No matter how he tried to frame it.

The moment the ritual began, it was unmistakable. A surge of energy ripped through his body like a storm breaking its dam. Power. Raw, surging, wild. His limbs stiffened as something deep inside him began to shift.

He had done this twice before, with shadow wolves. That time, it had only tuned his senses, sharpened his instincts. He didn’t grow fur or claws, didn’t turn into a beast. He remained human on the outside... more or less. Only his perception, his ability to track and hunt, had changed. And that had already been overwhelming.

But this... this was a demon.

The pain came in waves. It started in his chest, spreading outward like fire racing through his veins. His muscles tensed, spasmed.

His teeth clenched as memories, not his own, rushed into his mind. Vicious, bloody, fragments of the demon’s past invaded him. Visions of battles fought in shadows, names whispered in tongues he didn’t understand, power wielded in the dark.

He felt himself buckling under the pressure.

Tave bit down hard, jaw locked, doing everything in his power not to scream. Every part of him was burning, reforming. He felt bones grind inside his body, his very structure being rewritten.

And then. A sharper pain.

His head throbbed violently, like it was about to split open. He gasped, breath ragged, as a deep, concentrated agony centered on the right side of his forehead.

No.

Not just pain.

Growth.

Like something was forcing its way out of his skull.

"Damn it..." he breathed through clenched teeth. "It’s really happening, isn’t it... I’m growing a horn?"