Evolution of the Ruined Heir

"Huh? W-what's going on!?"

Malakai heard Valentine's panicked voice echo in his head. The chubby man had been startled awake by Malakai suddenly jolting up in the middle of the night.

'I hear sounds coming from outside…'

Malakai was already on his feet, gripping his scythe tightly.

"Ah, shit… not this again!" Valentine groaned. He still hadn't recovered from the Ironhold incident, where they'd spent an entire night crammed inside a ceiling.

Malakai didn't respond. His focus was already shifting. He reached for the side of the bed, grabbing his utility belt and strapping it on without hesitation.

"W-wait! What are you doing!?"

'What does it look like?' Malakai replied calmly.

"Don't tell me you plan on checking it out," Valentine said, his voice rising.

Silence.

"Don't!" he cried. "That's literally how every horror movie starts! It's a well-known fact, strange noise? You run!"

Malakai's tone was firm. 'Leaving the manor takes me straight into the forest. I'll be ambushed easily out there.'

Valentine kept whining, but Malakai had already tuned him out. He needed absolute focus.

He did a quick check of his utility belt. Gun, check. Vita mine, check. Then his gaze shifted toward the door.

'Go check what's happening outside,' he said, turning to Valentine.

Valentine froze. "Meeee—oh, right. I can't die…" He sighed heavily, like someone forced to clock in at a job they hated. Being dead meant he couldn't give any excuses.

He reluctantly phased through the door and returned seconds later, pale, like the color had been drained from his face.

'What happened?' Malakai asked.

"She's scary… she's so scary…" Valentine kept muttering while trembling behind Malakai like a frightened child.

'Is it safe?'

Valentine shook his head rapidly. "No, no, no, no!"

'What did you see?'

Valentine turned slowly, eyes wide. "The devil."

'The devil?'

Valentine nodded frantically.

'What about Nyx?' Malakai asked, narrowing his eyes.

Valentine visibly flinched. "She is the devil!"

Malakai tilted his head, confused for a moment, then the realization hit him and his eyes widened slightly.

"So that's what happened," he muttered.

He shook his head, ignoring Valentine's trembling form, and moved toward the door.

The hallway was dark. Malakai preferred it that way, it sharpened his other senses. As he moved through the manor, he passed the living room, noting the silver glow spilling in from the window.

'Looks like I actually slept…'

It had felt like a blink, but he'd slept deep into the night. He guessed it was around midnight.

When he reached the manor's main door, he stopped.

'This feeling…'

He knew it too well. The chilling presence of death.

'Darkness creatures?'

But there was something else. A metallic stench in the air.

'Blood.'

Malakai opened the door slowly, eyes narrowing as he peered outside, just in time to see it.

The full moon bathed the entire manor in its silver glow, revealing the unfolding scene with stark clarity.

A lone figure stood in the middle of the compound, calm and composed, dressed in a pristine white maid uniform.

All around her were the mangled corpses of darkness creatures, pools of thick black ichor seeping beneath them.

'Nyx.'

Malakai's eyes sharpened as he took in the scene. Despite the devastation, not a single drop stained her uniform.

Their gazes met, and for a second, the night fell utterly silent. Then, without a word, Nyx lifted into the air and landed softly in front of him. She bowed her head.

"Ninth Vein," she said.

Malakai didn't respond immediately. His eyes were still on the corpses. He couldn't determine their exact ranks, but from the lingering energy, he was sure they were at least Grade 2.

He exhaled. "Assassins?"

He noted the scattered splatters of blood. That could only mean one thing, the darkness creatures had spawned right here, from the deaths of those assassins.

Nyx nodded. "Yes, Ninth Vein." Her voice was cold, emotionless, devoid of the rage or satisfaction one might expect after a slaughter.

"They've been taken care of. I suggest you return to sleep while I clean this up."

Valentine's voice whispered urgently in Malakai's ear. "Yes, yes, Malakai, let's leave!"

Malakai ignored him, his gaze lingering on the corpses once more.

'More than ten…'

More than ten assassins, at least at the node formation stage, had come for him tonight. And if not for Nyx, there was no version of this story where he survived.

Malakai gave a slow nod. "Alright."

He turned and walked back to his room, Valentine trailing behind him, still visibly trembling.

Inside, Malakai stopped in front of the full-length mirror and stared at his reflection.

'It's pointless…'

That scene outside had made one thing painfully clear, against ten node formation evolvers, there was nothing he could've done.

If they had caught him asleep, he would have been dead before he even reached for his scythe.

Which meant… right now, his life wasn't protected by his strength. It was protected by Nyx.

So then… why had he been sleeping with his scythe? What protection did it truly offer when his survival no longer depended on him?

He exhaled heavily, unbuckling his utility belt and placing it down. His eyes drifted to the scythe still in his grip. He stared at it for a few quiet moments, then gently set it on the bed before climbing in.

Valentine blinked. "Wait… you're not sleeping with your scythe?" He looked genuinely shocked. Moments ago, Malakai had looked like he was ready to die with it in his hands.

'No,' Malakai said simply.

Valentine, who had been about to praise Malakai, glanced at the bed again and narrowed his eyes. "What the heck. What's the difference?"

Although Malakai wasn't sleeping with the scythe, it was now resting by the bed, its staff just inches from Malakai's hand.

'Mind your business.' Malakai responded.

Valentine sighed. "At least it's progress. We'll get you there, don't worry."

'Shut up and let me sleep.'

Valentine didn't reply again, letting silence return to the room.

'I have to get stronger.'

Valentine was right, it was progress. Letting go of the scythe, even in this manner, meant Malakai had decided to trust Nyx. At least… to an extent.

But placing his life in someone else's hands was something that didn't sit well with him. He needed to change that.

Sleep took him in the next moment.

Morning came fast.