Demonic Devourer: First, I Eat the Babies

Chapter 47: A (not so) fresh start



Three days into our boat ride, I’ve come to the realization that I deeply dislike enclosed spaces that don’t allow any opportunity for advancement.

That’s not to say that this place is particularly drab or anything—far from it. If I were anyone else, I’d probably think that this ship is fantastic. It’s nearly a thousand feet from end to end and is chock-full of amenities. I’ve eked out some entertainment from their facilities, but it’s very clear that this is a luxury ship.

At least the other two are enjoying it.

For my part, though, I find it deeply irritating that there isn’t even a training room on board. What little practice I’ve managed to get has been done entirely in our shared room, which Sierra has made clear that we’re not meant to break.

It reminds me entirely too much of learning how to use Bloodstep in the cramped prison room back at the site where I was born, except then, I actually gained levels.

Thanks to the advancements granted to me by my consumption of the demonic tree, I’m powerful enough now that directionless attacks aren’t advancing anything. Most of my skills are either Bronze or Silver tier, but thanks to the level-up advancement vastly increasing my abilities in all of them, it’s extraordinarily difficult to advance them. The Bronze-tier skills are mostly at their peak, which means that any further advancement is going to require a skill evolution.

I think evolutions have only really occurred when I’m using them in a. Life-or-death situations are the only times when my skills have advanced a tier—well, that and some level-ups, but with no quests that enable me to level, that’s not exactly viable either.

I really do want to increase my level. Based on how temporary skills have interacted with Devour, I’m pretty sure that the Anderson fellow I ate on the train through the Crowned Islands is going to grant me Electromagnetism when I next level up. I’m excited for that.

At least I’ve gotten Disguise Self to level. The only other non-maxed-out Bronze-tier skill I have is Firearms, but there’s no shooting range on board, so… Disguise Self.

I’ve been using the skill nonstop for nearly eight hours now.

As it turns out, Disguise Self does have some interesting applications, especially when I use it to put on a mask of a person I haven’t met before. At first, I do my standard imitations. I try on Sierra’s face and body, then Sapphire’s, Marie’s, and even Adrian’s. The male body feels kind of wrong on me, but it could be useful in a pinch if I need a disguise that looks nothing like me.

After that, though, I start trying more experimental things. Practicing the same old faces doesn’t give me much progress, but esoteric ones like the body and composition of the other demon-babies, of the demons I faced, and even non-living things like the mattress I sit on—that helps. My skills like being used in new and different ways, it seems, and I’m happy to oblige.

Disguise Self advanced to level 10!

You are now significantly more able to imitate non-living objects. You have an unlimited number of usages, though mana cost increases per use.

Finally. Reaching the capstone does appear to increase its effectivity, just as all the other Bronze-tier skills got when they reached their capstones.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m getting any closer to passing as a chair. While Disguise Self changes the apparent dimensions of my body, warping space in some way or another to make it seem accurate, I still need to be able to physically match the movements of the fake body, which means that complex inorganic objects aren’t something I can very accurately mimic.

Yet. Who knows what it’ll become when it advances to Silver?

If it advances to Silver, that is. There’s not going to be happening anytime soon. There’s no quest to achieve on this boat, no people I can Devour for XP.

Well, there’s people I can eat, but Sierra’s made it pretty expressly clear that I shouldn’t be doing that. Even I’m not bloodthirsty enough to forget that we’d be stranded alone on a boat thousands of miles from real civilization if I killed everyone aboard.

Still, I can’t say I haven’t been tempted to find some unsuspecting victim with no connections and off them where nobody else is watching.

I sigh, rearranging my body once more. I take on a more normal disguise. Short black hair, brown eyes, and a shape that resembles my own with slightly more generous proportions. Designed to attract just enough attention to be a notable persona without drawing enough to make people focus and realize the similarities between this fake and my true body.

Someone knocks on the door before I can switch to the next form.

“Yes?” I ask. It can only be one of two people, and Adrian is probably still out drinking.

“It’s me,” Sierra’s muffled voice comes across from the other side.

“Selele three,” I say, reciting the one-time-code she gave me earlier today.

“Kisel five,” she replies in turn.

I unlock the door. “You know this’ll never work if someone just breaks down the door, right?”

Sierra takes a sharp intake of breath as I open the door to our shared suite. I catch the ever-so-slight whistle she makes, and I also catch the tense in her shoulders, the universal reaction to a surprising stranger.

“Right,” I say, dropping the Disguise Self. “I was practicing.”

“It’s quite good,” she replies, nodding approvingly. “I can’t even see through it without activating a skill. Impressive.”

I squint at her. “I don’t buy it.”

She stares back at me, holding my gaze for an entire four seconds before her stoic expression breaks, a smile slipping through the facade. “Yes, I can see through it, but I have to look. A cursory inspection reveals nothing.”

“Better than before, at least,” I chuckle. “Should fool the other poor souls on this boat, though.”

Sierra snorts in an entirely unladylike manner. “The others on this boat are like as not blind to every skill we use. These are merchants and medics, not fighters. Keep in mind that the majority of people you will see are not combatants, and their level of expertise in the combat arts reflects this.”

“I have no doubt,” I say.

“Though if the military forces were with us, they would fall against a single one of us, even Adrian,” Sierra adds. “Even the Whitestar Kingdom’s elites could flatten the Crowned Islands’ forces if they sneezed on them.”

I smile, remembering the carnage I wrought upon the soldiers sent to clear Ravendale. “I can see that.”

Though given the power level of those soldiers, it’s very likely that the ones in the Seven Kingdoms are going to dwarf me in terms of power.

“You’ll grow to the level where you can do the same to any of the nations in this wide, wide world of ours,” Sierra says. “I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe,” I say, shrugging. “What are you here for, anyway? It’s not that late in the night.”

“What, I can’t visit you?” Sierra asks, spreading her hands. The bronze bracelets are still there on her wrists, I notice, flashing angrily. I wonder what those are for.

“So you want to Blue Mage your way into some more magic?” I ask. “I have nothing better to do. I’m alright with it.”

“…Yes, that,” Sierra says, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “I would very much appreciate that.”

I tilt my head, indicating the bed, and she happily hops into it. I follow shortly after, shucking off the silk shirt she provided me earlier. I have a thin underlayer that I don’t remove—though from the heat in Sierra’s expression, I’m sure she’d like me to.

“Still blood magic?” I ask.

Sierra nods. “Still blood magic.”

She holds me close, and I hold her back as I send a Blood Echo crawling out from my back. The bloody copy of me brushes against Sierra’s warm body, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She lasts a full twelve seconds before dissolving now, long enough to stand and pace around the room before I have to start using Shape Blood.

By my count, four minutes and twelve seconds pass before a siren interrupts us.

Warning: Titan sighting reported. Repeat. Warning: Titan sighting reported. Threat level: LOW. Course correction initiated. Estimated delay: two days.”

“Ah, broken gods,” Sierra mutters, clutching me tighter for a second. “Scintilla, then?”

Titans. My soul-amalgam fills in the information while Sierra holds me.

Not that there’s much to fill in. Even though there’s no gaps in my knowledge, the amonunt I have is pretty slim. Beings of monstrous power that wander the earth, potentially anomalous. They act more like forces of nature than anything else. It’s easier to stop a hurricane than it is to even delay the path of a Titan. Observed number: sixteen. One confirmed dead. Total number: unknown.

Scintilla. Titan of the Nameless Sea. Surfaces two to three times a year. Average death toll per appearance: unknown, likely above ten thousand depending on the distance to the nearest shoreline. Primary attack method: large-scale water manipulation. Offshoots: various waterborne anomalies. Radius of direct influence: ten miles.

I would really appreciate if I had that information lying around before I need it, but at least it’s buried within my mind somewhere.

“Just a sighting,” Sierra sighs. “We should be somewhere around a hundred miles away, judging by the announcement. Close enough that we shall have to fight the offshoots, it would seem.”

“Should we move, then?” I ask. Personally, I’m practically raring to fight something, anything, but I’m not sure if using Devour in front of so many people would be too conspicuous.

“Let me enjoy this a little longer,” Sierra tells me. “Adrian will handle the first wave when they get here. I know he will.”

I relent. I’m not sure what deal Sierra made in order to unseal her Red Mage class and save me, but it’s clear that she made some form of it. The bracers on her wrists tell me that much.

As does the screaming. She tries to silence it as well as she can—I know she wraps a gag around herself before going to sleep when she thinks nobody is watching—but even then, I can still catch the traces of it, see her convulsing in the night.

Sleeping is no rest for her.

Considering what she’s done for me, I can spare her a few minutes.

She closes her eyes and nestles into my chest, her lithe fingers wrapping around my back. Sierra looks so peaceful like this. It’s a far cry from her usual intensity. I don’t think she’s actually using her power to assimilate my blood magic, honestly, but this seems to be positive for her. I’m willing to continue it on.

I almost think that she’s fallen asleep when she opens her eyes a crack, her smile growing wider.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I can’t do much but nod.

Another five minutes pass before the first crash hits the boat.

“That may be our cue,” Sierra sighs, opening her eyes all the way. “You can stop providing magic to the blood, if you’d like.”

I nod, thrusting a hand out to Devour my own magic, and I roll off the bed.

“Let’s get abovedecks, then,” I say. “Can you sense the attack?”

“It is likely minor,” Sierra says. “A hundred miles is far.”

“Still, it managed to hit the ship,” I reply. “Let’s see.”

We aren’t exactly hurrying on our way up to the deck, but we don’t waste any time either.

Adrian stands alone on the deck, holding a sword out as a watery cyclone spins on its side, spanning the boat from one end to another.

Slimy snail-like creatures crawl onto the boat just to be swept up by Adrian’s skill. Their bodies are comprised of some gel-like liquidy substance, and they tear apart as they enter the cyclone.

“Heya,” Adrian says, slurring his words ever so slightly. “Got monsters coming this way. Offshoots, the lot of them. Nothin’… nothin’ strong.”

“You need to lay off the early afternoon drinking,” Sierra sighs, holding a hand to her forehead. “I heard a crash. Will there be any others?”

“Mmm… mhm,” Adrian says. “Sense ‘em in the… in the water there. Swimmers.”

Swimmers?

Sierra lets out a long suffering sigh before snapping her fingers. Red and blue energy pulse out from each of her fingers, expanding to encompass the deck in moments and then pushing out even further.

“Vessels in the water,” she reports. “Manned.”

That piques my interest. “An attack? Preochestrated?”

“Yes to the first, no to the second,” Sierra replies. “Scintilla’s presence encourages opportunists. Would you like to do the honors?”

I peer over the side of the deck, staring into the water. Frigid salty water rains down on me, a deluge of magically manipulated water buffeting me as I look, but I remain unbothered. Adrian does his part to reduce it.

Three capsule-shaped devices are outlined in bright red as they cut through the water, approaching the ship at a dangerously fast rate. Sierra’s skill, I assume.

Objective: Defend the ship

Kill the pirates attacking your ferry.

Enemies killed: [0/12]

Reward: 600 XP + upgrade 1 Bronze-tier skill

At long last. The side of myself that I’ve actively suppressed for the past few days explodes outwards in full force, hungry for something, anything to fuel it.

I jump over the edge.

As I fall, I activate a number of skills at once. Blood Echo combined with Shape Blood creates a copy of myself that’ll hit my target with more precision and speed than I can imagine. Bloodpath ensures that I’ll make my way there without missing.

Soulknife grants me a weapon that will pierce any defense.

My echo smashes straight through six inches of water and another three inches of shitty steel before the water vibrates, some form of disruption enchantment disrupting the stability of the skill.

Not that it matters. She’s created a gap in the armor of one of the capsules, and it surfaces to make up for it, finishing its ascent just in time for the real me to slam into it, using my blood-form to squeeze through the narrow hole my echo’s opened up.

I remanifest knee-deep in ocean water within a cramped cabin.

Inside with me are four humans.

They all notice me at the same time, but they react slowly. Far too slowly.

I turn to the man closest to me and jam my Soulknife straight through his heart, ripping it out by tearing it upwards until it exits through the top of his skull.

Enemies killed: [1/12]

I laugh at the ease of it all, relishing the horrified looks the other three give me.

“Finally!” I shout at them. “Entertain me!”

They can’t, not really, but hey—at least they’ll grant me some rewards in their deaths.

I begin to eat the pirate.

 

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