The Price of a Devourer
914 Words
The Frost Phoenix Warlord’s estate stood on the northern ridge of the capital, carved directly into a glacial cliff that never melted.
Even in summer, frost clung to the air.
Harold stood at the entrance gates, calm as ever, staff resting lightly against his shoulder.
Behind him, imperial guards bowed and withdrew.
Before him—
Power.
Real power.
The massive doors opened without being touched.
“Enter,” a voice echoed.
Cold. Ancient. Controlled.
Harold stepped inside.
⸻
The Mentor
The interior hall was vast, lined with crystalline pillars glowing faintly blue. At the far end stood the Frost Phoenix Warlord himself.
Tall.
Composed.
Eyes like frozen oceans.
“Harold Vale,” he said evenly. “Host of the Monkey King.”
Harold inclined his head slightly. “Warlord.”
The man studied him carefully.
“You do not bow deeply.”
“I respect strength,” Harold replied calmly. “Not titles.”
A flicker of amusement crossed the Warlord’s face.
“Good.”
Frost gathered lightly around his feet.
“Show me.”
Harold didn’t hesitate.
The Monkey King stirred.
Golden aura expanded—not explosive, not wild. Controlled.
A staff materialized in his grip.
The temperature in the hall shifted instantly.
Frost and gold collided in the air like two opposing empires acknowledging each other.
The Warlord’s eyes sharpened.
“Interesting… it doesn’t rebel against you.”
“It doesn’t need to,” Harold replied.
For a long moment, silence stretched.
Then the Warlord nodded.
“You are not just strong. You are stable.”
He turned, walking toward a massive frozen mural carved into the far wall.
“Do you understand what lies beyond your first door?”
Harold’s expression changed slightly.
“You know.”
The Warlord tapped the mural.
It shimmered.
And suddenly—
Harold’s inner world projected into the hall.
Gigantic.
Endless.
Golden clouds swirling around the first opened door where the Monkey King resided.
But deeper.
Far deeper.
A second door.
Monumental.
Its surface carved with tidal waves and wings.
The Whale Falcon.
The Warlord exhaled slowly.
“A Devourer-class titan.”
The air tightened.
“Those are not simply awakened. They consume.”
Luke’s voice murmured inside Harold’s mind.
“He knows his history.”
The Warlord continued:
“To awaken a Devourer titan, the cost is not just mana. Not just blood stones.”
He turned back.
“It is essence.”
⸻
The Ingredient List
With a wave of his hand, a crystalline tablet formed in the air.
Words etched themselves in frost.
Harold read silently.
And for the first time—
His expression shifted.
Ingredients required for Devourer-class awakening:
• 1 Core of an Abyss Leviathan
• 3 Sky Sovereign Feathers (Apex-tier beasts)
• 10,000 High-Grade Mana Crystals
• 1 Devourer Sigil Fragment
• 2 million blood stones equivalent
Silence.
Even Luke paused.
Then—
“…Well.”
Harold let out a slow breath.
“Two million.”
The Warlord’s voice remained calm.
“That is the minimum.”
“Failure means?”
“Consumption.”
The word echoed coldly.
“Devourer titans do not reject hosts. They absorb them.”
The hall fell silent.
The weight of that truth settled.
The Monkey King stirred slightly within the open door, as if amused.
Luke whispered:
“You wanted a challenge.”
Harold’s lips curved faintly.
“I’ll gather it.”
The Warlord studied him carefully.
“No hesitation?”
“If I hesitate,” Harold replied, “someone else surpasses me.”
A pause.
Then the Frost Phoenix Warlord smiled.
“Good.”
⸻
The Hidden Reality
“You will not find those ingredients in markets,” the Warlord continued.
“The Abyss Leviathan resides beyond imperial waters.”
“The Sky Sovereign nests are guarded by elite academies.”
“The Devourer Sigil Fragment… is sealed in the Forbidden Ruins.”
Harold’s mind was already calculating.
Distance.
Risk.
Enemies.
Politics.
Luke spoke softly:
“This isn’t an awakening. It’s a campaign.”
The Warlord’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“You have enemies already. The Dragon faction watches you.”
“And?” Harold asked.
“If you move openly to gather Devourer ingredients… they will interfere.”
Harold tilted his head.
“Then I won’t move openly.”
The Warlord laughed quietly.
For the first time.
“I chose correctly.”
⸻
Outside the Estate
As Harold stepped out into the cold night air, frost evaporating behind him—
Reality settled in.
300,000 blood stones had felt impossible days ago.
Now?
It was nothing.
A child’s number.
Two million.
Ancient cores.
Forbidden ruins.
Political interference.
Rival prodigies.
And the risk of being devoured from within.
Luke’s voice returned.
“You’re smiling.”
Harold looked up at the moon.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if it was easy… it wouldn’t be worth awakening.”
Inside his inner world—
The second door pulsed faintly.
Deep.
Hungry.
Waiting.
And for the first time—
It pushed back.
A low oceanic roar echoed through his mind.
Not threatening.
Not welcoming.
Testing.
Harold closed his eyes briefly.
“You’ll open,” he murmured.
“On my terms.”
The Whale Falcon fell silent.
But the pressure remained.
⸻
Elsewhere…
In a dragon-emblazoned manor across the capital—
Riven’s father received a report.
“Devourer-class signs confirmed?”
“Yes, my lord.”
A long silence followed.
“Then we cannot allow him to awaken it.”
Outside the window—
Storm clouds gathered.
- Writer
