I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 104: Narrow Escape

Vale didn’t hesitate.

He activated Voidstep and vanished in an instant, reappearing behind the creature in a shimmer of shadow. His grip tightened around his new weapon, Dawn’s Barrage, as he swung in a clean arc.

The blade whistled through the air, but the monster twisted at the last second, narrowly slipping away.

"It’s fast," Vale muttered, sidestepping just in time as the beast’s gaping jaws snapped shut where he’d just stood.

He countered with another strike. The blade clipped the creature’s torso, leaving a shallow gash—but again, it danced out of reach, widening the gap between them.

Vale clenched his jaw. The thing was frustratingly agile, slipping through the narrowest margins. But at least he was keeping pace, dodging its attacks with equal precision.

He wasted no more time.

He activated Ravenous Flame.

Black fire erupted from the hilt, coiling around the blade like a living serpent, seething with a hunger that radiated heat and menace. Shadows danced across Vale’s face as he vanished once more into the ether.

Voidstep.

He reappeared mid-swing. His body hadn’t fully materialised before Dawn’s Barrage came crashing down. The creature tensed, legs twitching to move, but this time it was too slow.

The blade buried itself deep in the beast’s abdomen.

The monster shrieked, collapsing to its side as the black fire burst forth from the wound. The flames slithered across its body, not burning, but consuming—as if the fire itself wanted to erase the very idea of the creature.

The monster shrieked and thrashed violently, digging into the earth, rolling in desperation as if it could snuff out the blaze. But it was to no avail.

Ravenous Flame was relentless..

There was no smoke, no ash or remains left behind by the black flames.

Within moments, the beast’s body was gone—unmade entirely, as if it had never existed.

The clearing was silent.

Vale stood still, his chest rising and falling with quiet breath. His blade simmered with black flame, now dimming as he dismissed it. He looked down at the empty patch of ground where the creature had stood just seconds ago.

Nothing remained.

Then, the familiar voice resounded in his head, confirming what he already knew.

[ You have slain a C-Rank Unhallowed Monster: Fogborne Hound. ]

Vale lingered for a moment.

It wasn’t just the monster he had killed that vanished—it was everything. The distant growls, the shrill shrieks behind the fog, the low guttural murmurs that had constantly echoed through the haze—all gone.

The Demon Realm had fallen disturbingly silent.

"Something’s off," Vale thought, eyes narrowing as he scanned the dense fog. It still clung stubbornly to everything, wrapping around trees and stones like a suffocating shroud, reducing the world to a ghostly blur.

Then he felt it—a low, steady vibration against the soles of his boots.

He dropped to one knee and pressed his palm to the earth.

"It’s... shaking?"

The tremor deepened. Pebbles began to rattle violently around him, hopping and twitching on the trembling soil. The shaking grew stronger with each passing second, until even the larger stones began to shift and roll across the ground.

Alarm shot through him.

He summoned his Relic.

It appeared high above him with a flash of power, casting a faint glow through the fog. Vale focused, his senses reaching outward, searching for mana signatures.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Groups—no, hordes—of monsters were closing in from every direction.

He sprang to his feet, urgency flooding his limbs, and with a snap of will, summoned the ice dragon.

The spirit materialized midair with a roar, its scales glinting in faint blue hues as icy mist flowed from its nostrils. Vale leapt onto its back, sending a silent command: Take off—now.

The dragon launched skyward just as two more Fogborne Hounds lunged out of the fog, claws slamming into the space Vale had stood a moment before. Five more followed, snarling and crashing into each other in a frenzy. Within seconds, the clearing below was flooded with monsters—clawed, fanged, frenzied—all converging on the last trace of his presence, their glowing eyes now fixed upward.

Vale exhaled sharply, his narrow escape giving him no relief.

He turned his gaze ahead—but the sky was no safer.

Figures burst through the air, slicing through the fog like arrows.

They were massive, winged beasts with leathery hides and grotesquely elongated beaks—some curved like scimitars, others jagged like broken glass. Their wingspans matched the ice dragon’s own, casting shadows across the misted skies. Hooked talons jutted from their limbs, and their eyes burned with feral hunger.

There were hundreds of them. No... thousands.

They filled the air like a living storm, so thick they rivalled the clouds themselves. Every inch of sky was alive with flapping wings, shrieks, and the whistle of wind being torn apart.

Vale’s heart pounded.

He issued command after command, trying to steer the ice dragon through the chaos, weaving and diving to avoid the airborne swarm—but it was futile.

The creatures struck.

They dove at the dragon, beaks slashing and claws raking its shimmering scales. One latched onto its side; another tore into its wing. Vale clung desperately to the saddle as the dragon’s body lurched and reeled under the assault.

The dragon groaned—a deep, wounded sound—as its flight wavered.

It unleashed a desperate Ice Breath, a cone of freezing mist and razor-sharp shards, catching several of the attackers mid-flight. But the monsters didn’t flinch. They pushed through the freezing storm with terrifying resolve, ignoring the frost now coating their bodies as they tore deeper into the dragon’s hide.

Vale gritted his teeth. The dragon was losing altitude fast.

With no choice left, he sent the command to land.

The dragon turned downward, wings flapping sluggishly, bleeding from a dozen wounds. It fought gravity with everything it had—but the moment its body tilted, a final barrage of attacks sent it spiralling.

They crashed.

The impact struck like a thunderclap. The ground split beneath the force. Vale was thrown forward, slamming into the earth as pain lanced through his body. The world twisted and blurred.

Then darkness swallowed his vision.

The dragon, Vermyr, moved of its own accord. With a final surge of strength, it shifted its massive, bloodied form over Vale, shielding him as the sky rained death. The winged monsters dove with piercing shrieks, their razor-sharp beaks tearing through the air—and into Vermyr’s flesh.

Vale’s consciousness flickered back just in time to hear the one thing he never wanted to.

[ Your Spirit, Vermyr, has been destroyed. ]

The moment the message echoed in his mind, the dragon’s body exploded into millions of glittering shards. They scattered like falling stars—beautiful, brief, and final.

With Vermyr gone, the sky opened once more.

Vale looked up, and dread washed over him.

They were still there—dozens, hundreds—winged nightmares blotting out the fog-wreathed heavens, their glowing eyes fixed on him. They dove, ready to finish what they’d started.

His gaze darted to the side. Through the thick mist, he spotted something—an old ruin. A half-collapsed structure made of crumbling gray stone stood not too far away, its weathered frame barely upright.

Vale didn’t hesitate.

He activated Voidstep.

A heavy tug yanked at his core, the pain sharp and immediate. But before he could truly feel it, he vanished—only to reappear, still short of the ruin.

He gritted his teeth and did it again.

Then again.

And again.

On the fourth Voidstep, he finally staggered into the entrance—if it could be called that. A shattered doorway, half-buried under rubble, welcomed him with a chilling draft and the promise of temporary safety.

He stumbled forward, but his legs gave out after just a few steps.

His vision spun.

Darkness took him once more.

When Vale awoke, pain radiated from his abdomen, right where his core pulsed weakly. It had been a long time since he’d burned through all his mana—and now, he was paying the price.

He clenched his jaw and forced himself upright, every muscle screaming in protest.

Then... warmth.

His gaze sharpened, drawn to the flicker of light in the distance—at the far end of the chamber.

A small fire crackled softly in the corner, little more than a handful of twigs, yet enough to ward off the ruin’s bone-deep chill. Sitting beside it was a lone figure.

As the firelight danced, the figure shifted.

It was a girl, no older than Vale.

Her raven-black hair was tied into a high ponytail. She wore a sleek suit of black and gold armour that clung tightly to her form, both regal and battle-worn. Spiked pauldrons framed her shoulders, and her chest plate gleamed with intricate golden etchings.

Though parts of her armour left skin exposed, it was by design, not vanity—the sharp edges, reinforced joints, and cold presence she exuded made it clear that this was no decoration.

This was a warrior’s gear.

"You’re awake," she said, her voice low and even.

"Huh... oh. Yeah," Vale replied, still trying to piece things together as he rose to his feet.

She studied him for a moment, her amber eyes unreadable.

"I found you unconscious at the ruin’s entrance," she said. "Out of mana?"

"Yeah... I had to escape a swarm of flying monsters," Vale said, rubbing the side of his head as he approached the fire.

She nodded, unsurprised.

"I’m Jade."

"Vale."

They looked at each other across the small flame, shadows dancing over the ruined stone walls around them. For now, the monsters were gone. For now, they were safe.

But Vale knew the Demon Realm would not stay quiet for long.