Two days had passed since the trial. The timer ticked quietly, but Arin worried continuously with every second.
The fields swayed with the morning breeze, brushing the golden light of dawn across the hills like waves on an ocean of grass. Birds chirped lazily from wooden fences, and smoke curled gently from distant chimneys in the small village of Derlin.
Inside a modest house tucked along the edge of the valley, Arin sat on the front step, arms draped across his knees, eyes following a butterfly floating just out of reach.
The sweat was gone. The aches had dulled. But a strange fire still stirred inside him—restless and quiet like a predator waiting to move.
He wasn't sure what bothered him more: the quiet of this peaceful life… or the hunger now pulsing faintly in his chest.
The Demon Lord System had not spoken since that first night. But its presence was still there—unmistakable. He could feel it like a second heartbeat.
And even without prompting, it sometimes spoke to him when he focused.
He glanced at the fluttering chicken, then down at his hands, curling and uncurling his fingers.
"Let's see…"
He activated his skill with a breath and a thought.
[DEMON EYES ACTIVATED]
A faint red glow shimmered across his irises as the world sharpened. His gaze flicked toward the barnyard, targeting the old rooster standing proudly near the water trough.
> [DEMON EYES ACTIVATED]
[ERROR: TARGET UNREADABLE – NON-HUMAN LIFEFORM]
[USER LEVEL TOO LOW TO SCAN ANIMAL-TYPE ENTITIES]
Arin frowns, slightly irritated. "Tch. Can't even see a chicken's stats... how pathetic."
Despite that, he smiles faintly, thinking: But at least it's real.
He leaned back against the wooden post and looked at the sky. So I need to level up… but how? There's nothing here. No monsters. No dungeons. Just chickens and carrots.
"Damn countryside," he muttered.
His stomach grumbled.
Before he could rise, distant voices drifted over the fence line. At first, he ignored them—typical village gossip. But one name made his ear twitch.
"...Arin?"
He stiffened.
The voices grew clearer. Familiar.
One belonged to Clark, the village neighbor—always nosy, always around. The other... his father, Marcos.
He leaned quietly over the porch rail, keeping his profile low, just enough to listen.
***********************************************
Creaking wooden wheels signaled the arrival of a guest. Clark arrived—a city family friend, pulling behind him a small wagon full of provisions. He looked like any regular commoner: dusty clothes, sun-baked complexion, and an oversized hat way too big for him.
He nodded to him quickly but didn't say a word, moving over towards the side of the building to avoid speaking.
Clark chuckled with Arin's mother, traded a few things, and called for Marcos. The men walked away towards the well, speaking quietly with each other.
I have heard rumors from the capital. One of the noblemen—a young guy—passed away in some manner of conflagration. No one knows why. Body was under curse, they claim.
Tensing asked Marcos.
"Guess they're planning a demon trial. Off the books. Classified. Insane, isn't it?" Clark chuckled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "But they mentioned the survivor was not human,"
Marcos frowned. "We are farmers, Clark. You understand about rumors. Don't spread that around here."
Clark nodded slowly. "Indeed. you are right. Still. unusual times, Marcos."
---
The sun stood highest in the sky at noon. Arin excused himself at the back of the house. He gripped the old axe set against the barn. The handle creaked, the blade rusty—but it would do.
His body ached with each movement, yet an inward flame blazed all the more.
"Engage Demon Instinct," he barked barely
>DEMON INSTINCT ACTIVATED – TEMPORARY STAT BONUS +30% DURATION: 300
[WARNING: LOW USER HP. STRAIN COULD BE HARMFUL]
The world snapped into clarity. Muscles bulged with superhuman strength, veins pulsating with malevolent power. He swung the axe in a grimace—through an enormous log, in one stroke.
He smiled, then fell seconds after, when his legs buckled. He gagged, choking. A splash of warm blood stained the ground.
[WARNING: USER HEALTH POINTS CRITICALLY LOW - DEMON INSTINCT ON COOLD
Footsteps approached. His mother.
"Arin!"
He quickly wiped the blood away and leaned against the wall with his back. "Just. tripped. I'm fine."
She didn't ask him anything else, but her eyes lingered over the axe and the cleft in the log as she ushered him into the house.
---
That evening, under the starry skies, Arin sat alone outside. The crickets provided soft buzzing, and the breeze drifted gently through wheat fields.
He exhaled.
[WARNING: DARK PRESENCE ONLY WITHIN 500 METRES]
[HUSER IS STRONGLY ADVISED NOT TO EXPOSE THEMSELVES. TH
His heart skipped a beat. "Dark presence.?"
He scanned around him involuntarily. That's when he became aware of it—some presence observing him. Cold. Ancient. Cruel. It coalesced for an instant and vanished the next.
The youngster stood quickly, his eyes narrowing.
But nothing occurred.
Just wind.
"I have to go in," grumbled Arin.
He spun around towards the door, but his gaze stayed locked upon the field.
Something felt different tonight. Something had seen him.
To be continued...q