Then one of the robed figures stepped forward from the perfect formation, their movement unnaturally smooth like oil flowing across water. When they spoke, their voice carried the same nightmare-quality that Merc Assault's had possessed—multiple tones layered over each other, harmonics that made reality seem less stable just from hearing them.

"Lord Merc Assault welcomes you to his domain," the figure said with dark amusement that was audible even through the voice distortion. "He has been expecting you, Satou. Waiting. Preparing. Watching your approach through the eyes of those you've slain. How convenient that you've delivered yourself directly to us. How... predictable."

Another robed figure stepped forward, this one's voice slightly different in its nightmare-harmonics. "The master was most impressed by your survival of his initial test. Six hours in the nightmare realm, and you emerged not broken but tempered. Most unusual. Most... interesting."

A third voice, this one female and carrying notes of sadistic anticipation: "He's been refining his techniques specifically for you. Building new tortures. Crafting nightmares tailored to your specific psychological weaknesses. The next time you enter his realm, you won't escape with your sanity intact."

Satou felt rage beginning to build in his chest like magma rising from deep underground. That ice-cold fury that had been simmering since he woke from the nightmare torture suddenly erupted into an inferno that consumed all rational thought.

These bastards. These servants of the monster, his hand tightened on his blade's hilt until his knuckles went white and his claws drew blood from his own palm. His aura began leaking out involuntarily, dark energy crackling around him like black lightning seeking a target. The temperature dropped sharply in his immediate vicinity, frost forming on the ground at his feet in rapidly spreading patterns.

"Satou, wait—" Kelvin started to say, recognizing the signs of his brother losing control to berserker rage.

But Satou was already moving before the words could fully leave Kelvin's mouth.

He exploded from his position like a demon unleashed from the deepest pits of hell, [Shadow Step] carrying him across thirty meters in an instant that seemed to fold space itself. His blade materialized fully in his hand, wreathed in [Void Fang]'s existence-erasing energy that made the air scream as it passed through.

The first robed figure—the one who'd spoken about delivering himself—didn't even have time to react or raise defensive magic. Satou's blade passed through their neck in a horizontal slash that was so fast it seemed like the head simply teleported from shoulders to ground. No blood spray—the [Void Fang] consumed the separated parts before they could fall, erasing them from existence entirely.

[Devour] activated automatically, and Satou felt a small influx of power and knowledge flow into him as he absorbed the cultist's essence.

<System Notification - Suppressed for Combat> [Nightmare Servant's Knowledge] acquired

[Dark Magic - Basic] acquired

[Enhanced Stealth] acquired

He didn't pause to check what he'd gained. There was no time for analysis. There were only targets.

The second figure—the one who'd spoken about refinement—managed to raise a defensive barrier in the split-second between Satou killing their companion and reaching them. Nightmare-magic formed a shield between them and Satou, layers of corrupted energy meant to turn aside physical and magical attacks.

It didn't matter. [Absolute Severance] activated, and Satou's blade cut through the barrier like it was made of spider silk, through the figure's torso, through their very existence in one fluid motion that left a trail of dispersing dark energy in its wake.

[Devour]. Another influx of power flowing into him like water filling a vessel.

<System Notification - Suppressed for Combat> [Barrier Magic - Intermediate] acquired

[Nightmare Defense Techniques] acquired

[Enhanced Magical Resistance] acquired

The third figure—the female who'd spoken of tailored tortures—actually managed to counterattack, her movements fast and practiced. Shadows coalesced into spear-like projectiles that shot toward Satou's chest at speeds that would have been impossible to dodge for a normal warrior.

[Phantom Form] made his body intangible for the crucial half-second, and the spears passed harmlessly through him as if he were made of smoke. He re-solidified mid-stride and removed the figure's head with a backhand slash that was almost contemptuous in its ease.

[Devour]. More power, more knowledge, more fuel for the rage burning in his chest.

<System Notification - Suppressed for Combat> [Shadow Projectiles] acquired

[Enhanced Speed] acquired

[Nightmare Servant - Rank 2] knowledge acquired

By now the rest of Merc Assault's forces had finally processed what was happening and were mobilizing for combat. Dozens of robed figures began casting spells in unison, conjuring nightmare constructs that materialized from pools of shadow, drawing weapons enhanced with dark magic that pulsed with malevolent energy.

It didn't slow Satou down at all. If anything, it made him move faster.

He was a whirlwind of death incarnate, his blade singing through the air in arcs that left nothing but corpses and dissolving essence in their wake. [Nightmare Sight] showed him every attack before it manifested, letting him dodge or counter with perfect efficiency that made him seem prescient. [Shadow Blade] created phantom copies of his weapon that struck from impossible angles, multiplying his lethality fivefold.

A group of five figures tried to overwhelm him with coordinated strikes from multiple directions simultaneously. Satou activated [Domain of the Nightmare King], and suddenly they were fighting not just him but their own worst fears made semi-real by his power. One saw flames consuming them alive and stumbled backward screaming. Another saw drowning in endless darkness and fell to their knees gasping. A third saw loved ones dying and froze with psychological shock.

Satou cut them all down like wheat before a scythe, his blade never slowing, never hesitating.

[Devour]. [Devour]. [Devour]. [Devour]. [Devour].

Power flooded into him with each kill like a river finding new channels, and he could feel his already formidable abilities growing stronger with every absorption. New skills integrated seamlessly with existing ones. Existing skills enhanced beyond their previous limitations. His aura swelled with accumulated energy until it was visible even to non-magical observers as a dark corona around his body.

<System Notification - Combat Log Accumulating> [Nightmare Constructs - Basic] acquired

[Fear Manipulation] acquired

[Mental Invasion - Weak] acquired

[Dream Walking - Basic] acquired

[Enhanced Agility] acquired

[Curse Knowledge - Basic] acquired

[Pain Infliction] acquired

[Psychological Warfare] acquired

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