CHAPTER 271: 271. A SECOND SUN

Getting Asher’s blood pumping on its tendrils, the demon sword Ifrit unleashed hellfire through the entire domain, wild and untamed. Black flames roared down the halls like a beast unchained. The Revolutionaries stationed in the basement—small-time lackeys posted there by Prince Max—came rushing at the noise, but they were greeted by a tide of darkness, flames slithering along the walls and ceiling like serpents hunting prey.

"Incoming!!! Set a barrier!!!" one of them screamed in panic, his voice shrill.

Another man snapped open his grimoire, flipping desperately to a barrier spell. Shadows spilled from his hands, conjuring a shield shaped like the massive black scale of a dragon. But the flames didn’t care. They met the shield with a shriek and melted it like butter under the sun. The metal liquefied, hissing and pooling around their boots.

"W-What—!" one man gasped. "The barrier! It’s—!"

"Someone, attack!!!" another shouted. All five of them opened their grimoires, summoning every high-tier spell in their arsenal. Firestorms, electric blasts, shards of obsidian magic, all of them flunging toward Asher with everything they had.

But Asher didn’t stop.

He kept flying toward them, hurling more black flame from Ifrit. The dark fire met their attacks mid-air, incinerating them as they evaporated like mist on a furnace.

Then, his fire swept into the men like a tidal wave of death. Their screams tore through the corridor, but not for long.

This fire didn’t burn slow.

It ravaged and disintegrated. The flames tore through clothes, skin, sinew, and bone, down to the very last cell. One moment, they were screaming. The next—nothing. Not a scream. Not a speck of ash. Just silence, and black soot smeared across scorched walls.

The flames died down, giving way for Asher to fly through.

On his shoulder, Prince Max began stirring, his eyes twitching, fingers curling faintly. The Demonic power surging through his body had finally started kicking in now that they were inside the demonic domain, and Asher knew it. That’s why he had to move fast. Do what he needed to do. Then kill every single bastard cloaked in this madness. They’d all been part of his mother’s abduction, and nobody who lays a finger at his mother gets spared.

He stormed past through cells. Some were empty. Others held half-dead humans, gaunt and twitching, their breath shallow like dying insects. Asher didn’t even glance at them because he didn’t give a shit about them.

He was looking for Rex.

He dove deeper into the domain. The air was growing colder, and the passage was getting dimmer. The tunnels weren’t just a prison now—they were turning into something else entirely. No longer did they stink of sweat or piss like the earlier cells fulled with humans. No. Here, the air smelled metallic. Like blood. And fur.

He slowed down.

Something felt different.

The cages were no longer holding humans... they were holding beasts.

His boots touched the ground as he walked now, eyes scanning the area. He passed by massive cages, each holding monsters twisted and malformed. Wyverns with torn wings and manes of shadow glared at him from the dark. Beasts with jagged teeth and stitched flesh. Mutilated foxes, three times their normal size, snarling as they chewed on what looked like...

At first glance, it was just meat.

Then he saw a human hand in the pile, fingers bent backward unnaturally.

His heart pounded.

They were feeding the monsters humans.

The red eyes of the beasts locked onto him, unblinking and aware, not pitiful like those of caged animals, but waiting to strike and eat more flesh!!

"What the hell is this place..." Asher muttered, more to himself than anything. He walked slowly, scanning each cell. His gut twisted.. "What are they doing down here...?"

A prison, sure. But for monsters? For... beasts fed on human flesh?

Why were they stockpiling so many monsters?

What were they preparing for?

He shook his head. He didn’t care. Their motives were none of his concern.

All that mattered now was finding Rex and getting out of this cursed place.

That’s when he felt some warmth. The body on his shoulder was heating up.

Max was healing too fast.

"No, you don’t," Asher growled. He summoned a door from his realm, shoved the prince inside, and barked a command to the realm trees, "Restrain him."

The door vanished.

He exhaled. "Should’ve done that from the start. Now let me find—"

His thoughts were intervened by a sudden ominous presence that washed over the entire space!!

A fresh bead of sweat flowed down his face as he gulped hard. This presence? Was it one of the beasts locked in here?

No! This presence felt familiar! It felt like... something he’d felt before! Back then, at the farm of that guy who had an STI! He’d felt it too! And every time, it made his body scream, his knees weak, and his limbs freeze!!

"You’ve got good instincts," a voice purred from the dark.

Asher spun around. His grip on Ifrit tightened, but the sword trembled in his hand. There was nothing behind him. Just shadows.

"I thought I’d heal Number Two before you noticed," the voice continued, cool and mocking. "I underestimated you."

The voice didn’t even sound human, nor demon!! He couldn’t tell what exactly it was. It was like the voice belonged to the darkness itself.

"Who are you!?" Asher growled. "Stop hiding and show yourself, coward!!"

The voice chuckled. Soft. Calm. Almost... amused.

"Hmmm... you’re a curious otherworlder, aren’t you?."

Asher froze, and simply blinked in the dark passage. Otherworlder? Did this thing know he was a transmigrator?

A gust of wind blew past him, he turned fast, not wanting to drop his guard but saw nothing.

He gulped hard.

"What are you? What’s your name?...." he yelled.

"I think you should forget my name... and learn something far more useful. Something like this—"

AGHHHHHHH!!

The scream ripped itself from Asher’s throat. His eyes bulged as white-hot agony crashed through his chest. Blood welled from his mouth, spilling down his chin.

He dropped to one knee.

His lungs felt crushed. His heart twisted. His ribs felt like they were cracking from the inside.

He clawed at his chest, gasping. Choking. He couldn’t breathe.

Not again... this feeling... the same one he’d felt in that corridor before. When those cloaked men passed by him and his body nearly gave out.

But this was worse.

His eyes bulged. Veins turned crimson. Blood leaked from the corners, streaming down his cheeks like tears.

His fingers lost strength. Ifrit fell to the floor with a metallic clang.

His body twitched on the stone floor like a dying bug.

Is this it? Is this how I die?

Not yet... I haven’t built my city... haven’t had my biggest harem... haven’t crushed and found a way to get my revenge on the bitch l called a wife from Earth...

He bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to feel the pain—his pain—and slammed a trembling foot on the ground. His muscles spasmed. Then he lifted the other leg. His entire body convulsed, like electricity was flooding his veins.

But he stood.

Shaking. Bleeding. Breathing shallow gasps.

Green light burst across his body as he activated his old technique, the one he was using before the system introduced him to healing potions; channeling his Pleasure Points into raw healing energy. The light cut through the dark corridor faintly, glowing through the cracks in his bleeding body.

"Well, well..." the voice hummed. "Still standing after all that? You really are something else..."

A mocking clap followed.

"You... ba—bas—ta—" he tried to speak, but more blood erupted from his throat, splattering onto the ground.

He closed his eyes and focused, ignoring the shaking in his limbs.

He wasn’t done yet.

And whatever the hell that thing was... it hadn’t seen anything yet.

He channeled about a thousand Pleasure Points into healing his body, and immediately felt himself coming back to normal—his organs fighting off the strangle, the pain easing, his breath stabilizing. But there was still one more thing to do.

Whoever this bastard was... they had no idea who they were messing with.

I’m Asher Reynolds. A transmigrator. And someone who just so happens to be able to use all affinities.

And in a dark domain like this, there was one affinity that could flip the script—light.

He closed his eyes, and just like that... as if it had been carved into his soul, an unknown spell drilled itself into his mind. He didn’t know how, or why, but it was as if he’d always known it.

His eyes snapped open. His aura flared.

His fists clenched.

His voice cut through the darkness, low and deadly:

"Light Magic: Solar Cataclysm!!"

The entire domain trembled.

Somewhere in the shadows, the voice gasped. Shocked. Rattled.

A point of golden light flickered in front of Asher, small at first before it surged upward, twisting and expanding into a second sun, hovering above him. Blinding rays shot out punching through the darkness and crashing into the walls. The shadows screamed—literally. Bestial howls erupted all around. In the cages, beasts writhed, clawed, thrashed, flapped their wings wildly in panic. Their glowing red eyes blinked rapidly in pain, their bodies trying to recoil from something they couldn’t outrun.

The figure of a cloaked man materialized in front of Asher.

Tall. Calm. Untouched by the light.

And smiling.

"Now that’s more like it," the man said, cool and amused.

Asher’s heart dropped.

The light wasn’t working on him?

TBC