When I came to this world,
I was already broken.
A hollow shell wearing the face of someone who didn't matter—just an extra in a ruined novel.
People say when you face death,
you finally realize how childish your actions were.
Not me.
Because unlike those who say they were born with nothing,
I wasn't.
I was born with sins.
With regret stitched into my bones like a birthmark no one could see.
And right now?
They were snapping. One by one. Like twigs under a boot.
I leaned back against the boulder—
or tried to.
Stone shards jabbed deep into my back from the last impact.
One had gone in far.
Too far.
Ribs had skewered my lungs.
Every breath was fire sucked through a straw lined with razors.
Blood bubbled up my throat like some grotesque potion, thick and metallic.
Vision blurred at the edges.
Like the world was slowly trying to forget I was ever here.
But in front of me—
the Obsidian Howler still stood.
Barely.
A walking nightmare of molten muscle and rot.
Its flesh peeled off in strips.
Its breath hissed through a torn throat and shattered teeth.
But it didn't fall.
Didn't even flinch.
It looked at me with those eyes—
glowing with fear.
And hate.
Like I was the mistake it was born to erase.
I coughed blood.
Then I laughed.
Dry. Broken.
Like my lungs were full of gravel.
"Heh... great. Feelings mutual."
I tried to stand.
Legs didn't move.
They'd given up on me.
My body was regenerating. Sure.
But not enough.
Not anymore.
Even miracles have expiration dates.
It stepped forward.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Confident.
The monster loomed over me—
claws closing around my skull.
Lifted me like a ragdoll.
My feet dangled inches off the ground.
Its grip pressed into my temples, crushing.
Darkness bloomed at the edges of my sight.
A high-pitched shriek echoed in my ears.
Death.
Not metaphorical this time.
Not poetic.
Just... here.
And for a second?
I welcomed it.
Because if I wanted to kill this thing—
I needed it to think it had already won.
This?
This was the opening.
My fingers still clutched the dagger.
Not to live.
Not to escape.
But to make it pay.
For everything.
Right before the lights went out—
I remembered.
The blood.
The screams.
The people I couldn't save.
Not to pity myself.
But to make sure this moment meant something.
So I gambled.
Because that's what desperate people do, right?
With my last breath—
I dumped the final 10 stat points into Strength.
[[ 10 Attribute Points have been allocated to Strength ]]
[[ You have achieved Rank A Strength (Stat Range: 51–60) ]]
And that's when it began.
My body—already breaking—
started to rip itself apart.
Muscles tore.
Bones cracked.
Tendons screamed like they wanted out of me.
Too much.
Too fast.
Like trying to shove a god into a paper bag.
But I didn't stop.
Didn't scream.
I just endured.
Because I didn't need to last.
I just needed to kill.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH—!!!"
I twisted—
wrenched myself free—
and kicked the bastard in the chest.
BOOOOOOM!!!
The air cracked open.
The monster flew.
Smashed through trees like a grotesque missile.
THAAAAP!!!
The world shook.
I collapsed.
Flat.
Spitting blood.
Twitching.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
But I could move.
And that was enough.
I crawled.
Each motion a scream.
Each drag fueled by something that wasn't hope—
just hate.
Fingers wrapped around the dagger like it was my soul.
Slick. Not with blood.
But with rage.
This wasn't a weapon.
It was a verdict.
I reached the monster.
Still alive.
Still twitching.
Trying to rise.
Failing.
Its jaw hung useless.
Its body betrayed it.
But it still howled.
Even now.
It refused to die.
"Neither will I…"
My feet scraped the dirt.
The long grass, soaked in both our blood, curled around my ankles like fingers trying to hold me back.
I stepped over its broken frame.
Met its one working eye.
And then—
I raised the dagger.
My arm shook.
Muscles screamed.
Didn't matter.
"This is for Elin."
STAB!
"This is for Aren."
STAB!!
"And this…"
My voice cracked.
Didn't care.
"This is for Elena."
I brought the dagger down.
CRACK!!!
The skull split like thunder across bone.
But I didn't stop.
The thing twitched.
Still making noise.
But that didn't matter.
I didn't stop.
STAB—STAB—STAB—!!!
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until I didn't know if I was killing it or killing everything.
My white hair—soaked.
Crimson now.
My feet squelched in gore.
My body? A disaster.
Shredded.
Burnt.
Healed.
Broken again.
Clothes were gone.
Flesh barely clinging.
But I kept going.
My voice—raw.
My eyes—feral.
I wasn't Lucifer anymore.
I was wrath—
A soul that crawled out of hell, dragging the fire behind it.
The corpse finally stopped moving.
But my dagger didn't.
Each strike whispered a memory.
Each blow screamed something I'd buried.
Until—
finally—
I collapsed.
Hands numb.
Vision spinning.
Bloodied.
Breathless.
Broken.
But alive.
And the nightmare?
Dead.
[[ Your action has changed the original fated death of Elena Sylvarin Thelen. ]]
[[ You have defeated: Obsidian Howler – A+ Rank ]]
[[ You have gained: 320 Story Points ]]
[[ The Constellation "The Fallen Prince of the Lunar Throne" is silent. ]]
---
At the same time—
Elin stepped into the clearing.
And froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The entire area looked like a battlefield scorched by divine wrath.
Trees shattered into splinters, ground torn open, blood soaked into every inch of soil.
Smoke lingered in the air, thick with the smell of char and burnt magic.
And in the center of it all—
Lucifer.
Collapsed beside the corpse of the Obsidian Howler.
Soaked in blood.
Hair no longer white—but dyed a deep, terrifying red.
His body was barely covered.
Just rags clung to his legs.
His skin torn, burnt, bleeding.
And yet…
He was still holding the dagger.
Still clutching it.
Like even unconscious, he was making sure that thing stayed dead.
---
[[ Author's Note:
This marks the end of the Practical Test Arc.
Thanks so much for reading—I hope you enjoyed it!
This is just the beginning. I promise every arc will reward your time and deliver an even better reading experience.]]