I Devoured The Primordial Chaos to Become the Strongest

Azaroth’s reaction was fast. He turned and brought up his sword before the voice finished speaking, and the rest of the team closed up behind him.

When they saw who was speaking, they all took a step back. Tall, with skin like chewed chalk, the man wore only a small cloth around his waist.

His eyes were flat and cold like the bottom of a lake. He was bald, and two horns protruded from his head. He stared at them and continued in that strange voice, like hundreds of insects speaking together at once. "Your reflexes aren’t shabby either. For people of your rank."

Azaroth narrowed his red eyes. "Who are you?" What he wanted to ask was what. The man wasn’t giving off a monster’s aura, but he was exuding a crypt aura, and it was big. As if he was a walking crypt.

Azaroth didn’t like it, and he started preparing his skill, but he knew it would be like throwing fire at the sea. But Azaroth was Azaroth, and he would try to light a fire at the bottom of the sea itself should he need to.

"Curious," the man continued as if he didn’t hear Azaroth speak. "Your foundation is rather solid. Before I am what I am, I met a lot, but almost all of them had a weak base."

He moved closer and grew taller the closer he got. "But it’s not firm enough. You need quality essence. Essence that comes from the lifeblood itself. Curious. Curious. Indeed."

The closer the man got to them, the more they felt the power that rolled off him like standing close to a volcano. They moved backward unconsciously, their legs moving as their brains registered a power higher than theirs.

Azaroth gritted his teeth and firmed his heart. Why was he moving backward? Why? The least the man in front of him could do was kill him, and he didn’t think the man would either.

Yet, his legs continued to move him backward. It was instinct. It was the natural order of things for those weaker to bow and step out of the way of the strong.

There was no going against it. Doing so was death. Unnatural. That was how Azaroth saw it, but then again, wasn’t he himself unnatural? He had two cores. Nothing could be further from natural than that.

So he used it. His unnatural self. He uncoiled his thread from his chaos core and wound it around his legs, and through that, he used it to clench into the ground to hold it.

Azaroth came to a sudden stop. His legs held fast by his thread. His body struggled to continue moving backward, but his heart was focused on making sure the thread held tightly to the ground.

He was sweating, but still, he looked into the cold eyes of the man in front of him. "Y...you," he stammered.

The man stopped walking and frowned at him, his overpowering aura also vanished. "Curious. You stopped yourself from your own survival instincts. You stopped walking. Stupid and brave."

The man continued, "You should listen more to your body. They speak the truth far more than your heart."

The man straightened and turned away from them. As they watched, a throne built itself out of the stones of the floor, and the man sat on it. "So you are the ones sent here to die."

"What the hell?" Alex whispered furiously. His muscles still trembled slightly from the aura of the man, and the mention of death didn’t sit well with him.

Stallus agreed with him, but still, she told him to shut it. They didn’t know this man, but he was incredibly powerful. The most powerful person they had ever seen.

Catena’s eyes were wide open, and he was breathing fast. He could not believe the skill the man used in shaping the earth. Indeed, that was the realm of the powerful.

"Hell?" The man frowned slightly. "Yes, you can compare this place to hell. Seems fitting for it."

"Who are you?" Azaroth demanded. He put as much force as he could into it.

"I have no name, but I am known as the Crypt Master. In this place, I can be compared to an absolute king," the Crypt Master said.

Crypt Master, Azaroth repeated in his mind. "What does that mean?"

"In the simplest of terms, I am the one that will oversee your training here in this training crypt."

Azaroth frowned. So such a being existed, and he was the one overseeing their training. He didn’t know how to feel or if he should feel anything about it. But one question remained in his mind. Azaroth asked, "Is it true that I can make the Master rank in five years?"

"If you don’t die, you might make more than that in five years. But the real question is, will you still be alive by then?" Crypt Master asked.

"I will be," Azaroth replied flatly.

Crypt Master laughed. "Fun. Curious fun! You will make my days enjoyable at least. As you have done so far." He seemed pleased.

The others were getting relaxed enough to also come out of Azaroth’s shadow. Stallus asked, "Why should the training include death? Can’t we train without the threat of death hanging over our heads? Should everything here be designed to kill us?"

Everyone stiffened at her question. They turned to the Crypt Master to see his reaction, and the man was only looking at Stallus with curiosity. "Curious. You are the crystal girl. I’ll answer your question. Awakeners only truly advance in the face of death because their powers were born in the time of death."

He leaned closer. "You have to train on the sword’s edge where a single mistake will kill you. Those who manage to complete it will become something more tempered than steel."

"So you will not have death hanging above you. It will hang around your neck. Heed or perish."