The air itself seemed to scream.
Mark's body arched, tendons straining like cables as a **crimson inferno** erupted from his core. His silver hair ignited into molten red, strands writhing like serpents made of blood. His eyes—once one blue, one red—burned uniformly scarlet, pupils thinning to vicious slits. A haze of crimson energy enveloped him, warping the light, as the system's notification seared his vision:
**[Lesser Blood Demon Activated: All Stats +25 for 00:59…]**
The dragon froze, its bone drill grinding to a halt. For the first time, something akin to *fear* flickered in its glacial eyes.
**"Too late,"** Mark hissed, his voice layered with a guttural growl not entirely his own.
He ***moved***.
The world blurred. Mark's fist cratered the dragon's ribcage before the creature could react, bones shattering like porcelain. The dragon reeled, but Mark was already behind it, his katana—now sheathed in crackling blood-energy—carving upward.
***SHINK!***
The blade cleaved through the dragon's tail, sending the bony flail spiraling into the trees. The creature roared, ichor gushing, but Mark didn't relent.
**"BLOOD SLASH! BLOOD SLASH! BLOOD SLASH!"**
Three crimson arcs shredded the dragon's wings, reducing them to splinters. The beast stumbled, its adaptive bones struggling to regenerate, but Mark's newfound speed turned him into a hurricane of violence. He leapt onto its spine, driving his blade between vertebrae, leveraging his weight to *wrench* its skull backward.
**"Where's your pride now?!"** he roared.
The dragon thrashed, its drill-maw reactivating with a metallic *screech*. Bone spikes spiraled toward Mark's chest—
—but he *caught* them.
Blood-energy surged around his palms, halting the drill inches from his heart. The spikes whirred, screaming against his aura, until—
***CRACK.***
Mark *crushed* the drill with his bare hands.
The dragon howled, ichor spewing from its maw. Mark didn't flinch. His enhanced vision pulsed, locking onto a faint glow deep within the creature's stomach—a **pulsing red crystal**, throbbing like a corrupted heart.
**"There you are,"** he snarled.
The dragon's claws slashed at him,but he dodge and plunged his hand into the creature's gut, fingers closing around the crystal.
**"Burn."**
The crystal *detonated*.
A shockwave of red energy vaporized the dragon's torso, reducing its lower half to ash. The remaining bones collapsed, clattering to the ground like discarded puppetry.
**[You have killed Unclassified Level 10 Arcadic Dragon. +0 EXP.]**
**[Mortal Rank Achieved: All Stats +20]**
**[+800 years lifespan]**
**[Evolution Mission Complete. Choose a Path:]**
- **Blood Sovereign**
- **Blood Warlock**
- **Warrior**
- **Mage**
- **Archer**
- **Necromancer**
Mark stood panting, his demonic aura flickering. Blood dripped from his nostrils, his pores, his eyes—the toll of overclocking his mortal frame. He swiped at the screen, his voice raw.
**"Blood… Warlock."**
Silence.
No fireworks. No triumphant fanfare. Only a cold whisper in his veins, like a parasite nesting in his arteries.
Then—**a green scroll** materialized amid the dragon's remains, hovering above the carnage. Mark staggered toward it, each step leaving a bloody footprint. His hand trembled as he grasped the parchment.
**[Bone Creation Mastery-0: Sculpt skeletal matter. Accept? Y/N]**
**"Yes,"** he croaked.
The scroll disintegrated. Knowledge flooded him—the lattice of calcium, the song of marrow, the calculus of density and force. He raised a hand, and a nearby bone shard levitated, morphing into a jagged dagger before clattering down.
**[New Skill: Bone Creation Mastery-0 ]**
**[Blood Warlock Innate Skill: Blood Lust]**
- **Effect:** Every kill within 1 hour grants +1% to all stats. Resets hourly.
**[Blood Creation: Can create object out of blood of yourself or your enemy strenght of object is determine on Mana, Magic and imagination].
Then the red aura snuffed out.
His hair faded to ashen silver, streaked with crimson roots. His eyes dimmed, the left returning to blue, the right remaining bloodred. His legs buckled.
***Thud.***
He hit the ground, consciousness fraying.