Death Heir’s Devouring System

Monsters began to pounce on Azrael from all sides, forcing him to move past his limits.

Body parts of all shapes and sizes fell to the ground, both from familiar and unfamiliar abominations. The onslaught he was under was so fierce that he didn't even get the chance to use [Inspect] on his foes. All he was able to perceive were their blurry silhouettes before being slaughtered by his own attacks.

In his left hand he wielded Gravebloom, the scythe moving staggeringly fast, cleaving and mutilating any creature that dared to come close.

In his other grip, meanwhile, he wielded a similar scythe formed from his own blood. From the wounds he had taken during the first minute of the monster wave, he was forced to go all out on the offensive; as such, he used [Blood Manipulation].

Truth Devourer had yet to crack. The Radiant armor was too strong of a shell for the monsters to break past that quickly.

Still, each hit that assaulted Azrael's body caused a shockwave to pass through his veins, causing his bones to ache.

'Where are the others of the squad?' He thought in irritation.

His white hair and smooth skin were nowhere to be seen, covered by the mountain of blood that had drenched his figure.

Occasionally the echo of explosions would reach his ears, so he assumed that at least part of his supposed team still stood.

'I don't know how much longer I will be able to keep going. I am even beginning to have difficulty breathing.'

Four attacks simultaneously aimed for his body. Gracefully moving at the last second, he evaded all of them, even if it was by a hair's margin.

'What about Champion Alexander?' He allowed himself to glance at the duel happening between him and the Reaver monster.

It wasn't of worry for the man; the problem was that should he die, then the mighty abomination would go for the next strongest one.

And out of the squad, Azrael, being of the Cleansed Purity Rank, would be considered the strongest after the squad leader.

Like it or not, that was the vital reason he needed to ensure the man's survival for the next four minutes.

Gazing past the smoke, he witnessed the way Alexander was having problems standing on his feet.

And worse, another wave was about to ambush him from the rear.

'Troublesome.' Cursing inwardly, Azrael sped off, trying to keep his nerves calm.

The wave of monsters he had been busy fighting followed after him like a hungry flock.

"Why did Seyra have to send me to subjugate a Savage Rift as my first mission?!" He roared, both to let out his frustration and to attract the wave of monsters to himself rather than the Champion.

"Azrael?" Alexander was momentarily startled seeing him. However, his surprise didn't last long as he saw that a wave of monsters would have ambushed him had it not been for him.

"Why can't I be assigned more capable members to my squad like this one?"

Alexander laughed darkly, lunging at Harbinger once more.

'Three minutes!' Azrael shouted in his heart, finding himself cornered between two unresting waves of monsters.

'I am Proven, I must be able to withstand at least that much!'

Moving as fast as possible, he gripped Moonlight Tears and drank the entirety of its contents.

Despite it being full, it was not nearly enough to ease Azrael's exhaustion.

But he wasn't going to complain.

He didn't have time to.

Being attacked from every possible angle, he was forced to split his attention to several points. Even if his improved perception alerted him of every approaching attack, that didn't mean he would be able to dodge all in time.

He had to pick what attacks to let land and what to evade.

A claw hit his back, a fang scarred his face, and a projectile hit his left foot.

'Faster!'

A mountain of bodies began to form under his feet; a scent worse than death assaulted his nose.

'Don't stop!'

After the second minute passed, cracks began to appear on his armor. Slowly the fierce attacks were getting through his defenses. He had to be even more tactical about which hits he could afford to take and where.

Even worse, he couldn't move backwards; his back was turned to the loud duel between the Reaver monster and Champion Alexander.

Giving more ground to the monsters would mean he would not only risk them reaching the Champion but also the Reaver monster focusing on him.

Should that happen, he would be doomed.

Left with no choice, he bit his lower lip so hard it began to bleed crimson blood and took a step forward.

Two minutes remained until the reinforcements arrived.

Azrael's mind cleared. Never in his life had he lived so much in the moment. His teammates, who were nowhere to be seen, were forgotten. The mighty duel behind him seemed miles away from him.

Unbearable heat spread around his body, limbs began to shake, and vision blurred.

Yet despite it all, he was alive. He could move, so he wouldn't stop.

Not until the monsters before him were exterminated, every single one.

Corruption Progression: [6/100]

It was only a matter of time until monsters of the Tainted Corruption Rank appeared.

Due to the situation, that fact eluded him; he didn't have the time to see what he was fighting, nor could he allow himself to hear the monotone voice of the system that was echoing in his mind.

Corruption Progression: [12/100]

Heads and limbs flew, and cries of plea sounded from the abominable maws.

More cracks began to spread around his armor, forcing him to dispel it. The protection it offered was useless at that point. That left him with an exposed upper torso.

At that moment only one thing seemed important. Slaughter the wave of monsters.

This wasn't just him losing himself in the bloodlust of the battle.

No, even despite his current state. He was able to see it.

The landscape past the monsters, the ground stained in blood.

What seemed an endless wave before had withered; now their numbers had thinned out severely.

'I can do it.'

As that realization hit him, he began to walk forward unfazed.

His vision turned crimson from the blood that got on his eyes. Yet that didn't stop him; even the silhouette of his foes was more than enough to slaughter them.

Lost in the endless wave of monsters, the five minutes were finally up.

Just on time, dozens of footsteps echoed in the far city, figures rushing towards the source of the commotion.

"I have located the Reaver Rift!"

"We suspect that the Reaver monster Champion Alexander is holding off is the boss monster. If we kill it, the Rift should close on its own!"

"Hurry, from the report we got, Alexander is the only Champion in the area! The Proven in his squad must have either long evacuated or perished in the monster waves!"

Words spilled at an unnaturally fast pace from the Champions' mouths as they finally took in the disaster before them.

What they expected was to see a half-ruined city with a singular Champion barely holding back a wave of Savage monsters and their Reaver leader.

Yet what they witnessed was something entirely different.

While the Champion was holding back the Reaver monster, another figure stood tall behind him.

Two deadly scythes in hands, exposed muscular chest rising in hurried motions as he took heavy breaths.

And thousands of monster corpses lay scattered before him.

All of the abominations had tried their best to reach the Champion and aid their Reaver leader.

But all of them fell by a single man.

A man that wasn't even a Champion.

A person that had barely become Proven.

The Heir of Death—Azrael.