My 5th Reincarnation: I Was Born in Another World as a Demon - TWOB 4

The tournament's medical wing was unusually quiet as Raegan visited Zia. Ice crystals formed weakly around her bed, but they were different now—tainted with traces of purple corruption that refused to fade.

 "I tried to save him," she whispered, her usual composure gone. "But what he's becoming… it's not just enhancement anymore. It's like a disease that feeds on pure mana."

 "I noticed," Raegan replied, his voice gentler than his usual cheerful tone. A small smile touched her lips despite the situation. "Still maintaining that act? Even now?"

 Meanwhile, in their strategy room, Aria was briefing the team on tomorrow's finals. "Drakmire's entire team shows the same corruption as Viktor now. They move as one entity."

 "The mana patterns are wrong," Luna's ears were flat against her head. "It's like their individual signatures have merged into something… hungry."

 Ace's calculations spun frantically. "Their enhancement isn't just boosting power anymore—it's consuming and corrupting other magic. The way they absorbed Zia's ice techniques…"

 "Tomorrow will be interesting," Raegan mused.

 "Very normally interesting?" Fin attempted their usual joke, but it fell flat in the tense atmosphere.

 A message arrived from Arch-Mage Magnus, requesting Raegan's presence. In his private study, the ancient mage's usual twinkle was replaced by grave concern.

 "Young man," he began, "I believe we both know your 'lucky' act has been exactly that—an act."

 Raegan maintained his innocent expression.

 "What Drakmire has created… it threatens more than this tournament. Their corruption spreads with each victory, tainting the very nature of magic itself."

 Back in their room, the team made final preparations. The usual lighthearted atmosphere was gone, replaced by focused determination.

 "No more playing around," Luna said quietly. "Whatever they've become, we need to stop it."

 "At least the betting odds are interesting," Fin attempted humor. "They're offering infinite returns on 'victory by stumbling.'"

 Late that night, Raegan stood alone in the practice arena, Vivaan's interface glowing softly.

 'You know what this means,' the system said quietly. 'Tomorrow can't be about maintaining cover. Viktor's corruption needs to be stopped.'

 'I know,' Raegan replied, centuries of combat experience weighing heavily. 'But we'll handle it…'

 'Very normally?' Vivaan suggested.

 'No,' Raegan's eyes held ancient wisdom. 'Tomorrow we handle it properly.'

 The finals would require Raegan to be more than just the mysterious transfer student with strange luck. Viktor's corruption had evolved into a threat that required the full knowledge of someone who had faced darkness across multiple lives.

 Tomorrow would change everything. But perhaps not very normally this time.

The final morning dawned with an unnatural purple haze hanging over the arena. Drakmire's team entered as one entity—four figures moving in perfect synchronization, their forms barely human beneath pulsing corruption.

 Notably absent was Viktor, sequestered in Drakmire's secret chambers, surrounded by dark engineers and enhancement specialists.

 "Three doses of D3-X," a masked scientist announced, preparing syringes filled with ominously glowing liquid. "The mutation will be… significant."

 Meanwhile, in the arena, the air itself seemed to recoil from Drakmire's enhanced squad.

 "Their mana signatures," Luna's ears flattened in distress. "They're not even separate beings anymore. It's like… like a hive of corruption."

 "Formation Omega," the Drakmire team spoke in perfect unison, their voices carrying unnatural harmonics. "Consume. Evolve. Spread." 

 The battle began with devastating intensity. Drakmire's squad moved like a single organism, corruption trailing in their wake. Every surface they touched began to taint and twist.

 Fin's usual chaos couldn't penetrate their perfect unity. His sword strikes met barriers of pure corruption that tried to taint his blade. Ace's calculations struggled against movement patterns that defied natural law.

 "The corruption is learning!" Luna called out, her mana reading detecting the horrible truth. "Each attack we make, it adapts and grows stronger!"

 Raegan maintained his supporting role, carefully measuring his involvement while watching the corruption spread. His centuries of experience recognized this pattern—power that grew by consuming its opposition.

 The turning point came when Luna noticed something crucial.

 "Their synchronization," she gasped. "It's their weakness! They can't act independently anymore—they have to move as one!"

 "Ace!" Raegan called. "Pattern Chaos Seven!"

 What followed was their most coordinated "chaos" yet. Instead of fighting the corruption directly, they began forcing the Drakmire team to split their attention. Fin's attacks came from multiple angles, requiring responses that their unified form struggled to coordinate.

 "They can't divide their focus!" Ace realized his calculations finally finding purpose. "Perfect unity means perfect inflexibility!"

 Luna's mana reading guided their strikes precisely, finding the moments when the corruption had to choose which threat to address. Each forced choice created tiny fractures in their perfect synchronization.

 The end came when the Drakmire team tried to launch their ultimate technique—a wave of corruption meant to consume the entire arena. But their perfect unity had become their perfect weakness. Unable to adapt independently to multiple threats, their formation broke. Ace created a smoke screen, Luna spiraled her mana around them to confuse the direction of attack, Fin unleashed a complete chaos of Fire comet barrage, while Raegan pushed them out of the ring one by one with his clumsy, unpredictable tackles.

 The corruption backlashed against itself, and the enhanced team fell—not defeated by power, but by their own inability to act as individuals.

 As medical teams rushed to contain the fallen Drakmire squad, Raegan's team regrouped, exhausted but victorious. Yet there was no real celebration—they all knew this was only half the challenge.

 Somewhere in Drakmire's chambers, Viktor endured his third injection of D3-X, his form twisting further beyond humanity as corruption merged with enhancement in ways never intended.

 "The solo finals," Luna said quietly, watching purple energy crackle across the arena's scarred surface. "After what we just saw…"

 "Will be very interesting," Raegan finished, his usual cheerful tone carrying an edge of steel.

 "No," Raegan replied, watching the medical teams struggle to contain the corruption, still trying to spread. "Not this time."

 As they left the arena, Raegan caught glimpses of the aftermath:

 Arch-Mage Magnus personally containing corruption spread, Zia watching from her medical ward, her ice still tainted purple, Scientists in Drakmire masks hurrying through shadows, Viktor's enhanced power crackling visibly through walls

 The real battle was yet to come. And somewhere in Drakmire's depths, a champion was becoming something that would require more than lucky stumbles to defeat.

 The solo finals would not be very normal at all.

 The hours before the solo finals held a heavy tension. In Drakmire's sealed chambers, Viktor's transformation continued. The D3-X enhancement drug coursed through his system, his screams echoing through corridors as corruption and chemicals merged.

 "Remarkable," one masked scientist noted. "His body isn't rejecting the mutation anymore. It's… evolving."

 "The corruption is adaptive," another observed. "It's using the enhancement to transform beyond our calculations."

 Meanwhile, Raegan sat alone in their preparation room, his usual cheerful mask set aside as he communicated with Vivaan.

  'The corruption in his system,' Vivaan analyzed, 'it's similar to what you faced in your third life, when Sasht's darkness began consuming kingdoms.'

  'But different,' Raegan mused. 'This isn't just corruption—it's manufactured evolution. They're trying to force power that should never exist.'

 A knock interrupted his thoughts. Zia stood in the doorway, still weak from her match, traces of purple still tainting her ice.

 "His power," she said without preamble, "it doesn't just enhance or corrupt. It… hungers. When he broke my ice techniques, I felt it trying to devour the very essence of my mana."

 Arch-Mage Magnus called an emergency meeting of the tournament officials. The arena's barriers were being reinforced with ancient magic, and evacuation protocols were established.

 "What we're dealing with," the old mage's eyes held no twinkle now, "is beyond enhancement. It's an attempt to force evolution through corruption. The consequences could be catastrophic."

 In their viewing box, Raegan's team made final preparations. Luna's ears hadn't stopped twitching since sensing the waves of corrupted power emanating from Drakmire's chambers.

 "No more normal acts," Aria said quietly. "Whatever he's becoming…"

 "Will be handled," Raegan assured them, his voice carrying centuries of certainty.

 Reports filtered in about Viktor's condition:

 Enhanced power visible from outside sealed chambersCorruption spreading through physical contactScientists showing signs of mental contaminationD3-X mutation exceeding all projections

 'You know,' Vivaan commented as they waited, 'this might require more than just centuries of combat experience. His power is actively evolving.'

 "Then we'll evolve to meet it," Raegan replied simply.

 A final message arrived: Viktor was ready. The corruption around Drakmire's chambers had grown so intense that simply approaching required magical protection.

 As the final match approached, Raegan stood ready. No more stumbling acts or clumsy victories. Viktor's corrupted evolution would face something else entirely—the full power and knowledge of someone who had fought darkness across multiple lives.

 The solo finals would begin soon. And for the first time in the tournament, Raegan would have to be anything but normal.

Solo Finals: Raegan vs. Viktor

The arena fell silent as Viktor emerged. The D3-X had transformed him into something barely recognizable—corruption swirling around a form that seemed to shift between solid and void, purple energy crackling with unnatural power.

 "Finally," his distorted voice echoed, "witness true evolution!"

 Raegan walked out calmly, his usual cheerful expression replaced with something ancient. For the first time in the tournament, there was no pretense of stumbling or clumsiness in his movements.

 "You've forced my hand!" he roared, arms stretched wide. "Now... you'll witness the power of the Gods!"

 The corrupted D3-X within him exploded outward—his veins glowing violet, a massive aura of shadow rising behind him like a demonic colossus. Lightning forked across the sky, bending unnaturally around him. His voice was no longer human.

 "This is divine strength!"

 For a heartbeat, even the crowd faltered. Even the mages tensed.

 Then Raegan...

 laughed.

 Not a chuckle. Not a smirk.

 A deep, hysterical, chest-clutching laugh that echoed across the stadium.

 "This?" he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "This pathetic tantrum is what you call divine strength?"

 In the blink of an eye—Raegan vanished.

 Viktor blinked, confused.

 Then froze.

 Raegan stood right in front of him, mere inches from his face. No wind. No flash. Just... there.

 Viktor's voice cracked. "H–How…?!"

 Raegan's crimson eyes narrowed.

 "Your borrowed strength doesn't even scratch the feet of the weakest gods. The beings I've faced… their breath alone could turn cities to ash."

 His aura surged, his presence pressing down like the wrath of nature itself. Viktor stepped back—but Raegan grabbed his face and slammed him into the ground.

 BOOM!

 The arena cratered.

 Light and darkness clashed, a fountain of corrupted and pure mana shooting into the sky.

 Raegan didn't stop.

 He lifted Viktor by the collar and unleashed a brutal combination of single handed slaps—each strike ringing like thunder and then came the clows:

 One to the gut.

 One to the ribs.

 One across the jaw.

 KNEE to the chest.

 Elbow to the spine.

 "This," Raegan growled with each blow, "is for hurting Zia."

 Up in the royal box, Zia gasped, her face instantly flushing red. She clutched the railing, eyes wide.

 "Idiot," she whispered, smiling despite herself.

 Viktor, broken and barely conscious, gathered the last of his divine-infused D3-X energy into a wild, final outburst.

 Raegan didn't flinch.

 Instead, his chakras ignited, glowing with intense color—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet—all orbiting him like planets.

 He inhaled.

 All of the D3-X energy—corrupted, cursed, chaotic—was drawn into him.

 Raegan's body glowed brighter and brighter as the serum was devoured, filtered, and converted through his chakra system into pure, crystalline mana.

 Scientists watching from the observation deck were speechless.

 "He's neutralizing it…"

 "No—he's perfecting it…"

 "He just turned D3-X into a mana refinement process—who is this kid!?"

 The corruption vanished.

 Raegan exhaled, eyes closed—glowing like a god in the flesh.

 The arena had fallen completely silent.

 Then, casually, almost bored, he grabbed Viktor by the back of his collar like a piece of laundry.

 He walked slowly to the edge of the shattered arena—his steps echoing in the stunned silence—then dropped Viktor over the edge with all the ceremony of tossing out garbage.

 Thud.

 "Out of bounds," Raegan said dryly.

 The crowd sat frozen for a heartbeat… and then erupted.

 "THE WINNER OF THE WORLD ACADEMY BATTLE TOURNAMENT SOLO DIVISION…

 RAEGAN OF BARTHOPIA!!"

 Zia covered her face, blushing furiously.

 Luna, Aria, Fin, and Ace stared in disbelief.

 Magnus nodded with the solemn pride of a man witnessing prophecy.

 Drakmire scientist smashed a control panel, veins bulging.

 And Raegan?

 He stood at the center of it all, eyes calm, surrounded by a halo of reformed mana, whispering quietly:

 "Evolution? No, Viktor. This… was just discipline."