The warning flashed across his status screen.

But Damian ignored it completely.

He abandoned all skills except Self-Healing, his Aura channeling solely into recovery, nothing wasted on attacks or defenses or fancy skills.

Just killing and eating.

And growing stronger with each bite.

[Will: 310 → 295]

[Perception: 200 → 185]

[Aura Control: B+ → B]

His stats began degrading, mental attributes dropping as the warning predicted.

But he was still aware, still conscious and still capable of directed thought.

So he used that remaining awareness to prioritize.

Kill the creatures breaking through formation first, protect the weaker students and clear the path forward.

Then...

RIP! TEAR! CRUNCH!

He went on a killing and eating spree, his movements becoming more brutal, more savage, more animalistic with each bite.

’I’m fucking hungry!’

Creatures lunged at him, he lunged back.

They bit, he bit harder.

They clawed, he ripped their limbs off and used them as weapons.

Defense became irrelevant and pain became background noise.

Survival instinct transformed into pure predatory hunger.

Gulp

Edrin watched with his mouth hanging open, his analytical mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

’What... what is Boss doing?!’

Damian had never used this art in front of them.

Never showed them what he was truly capable of when restraint was abandoned.

The others showed similar shock – Imperials and commoners alike frozen momentarily by the impossible sight of Damian eating their enemies alive.

This wasn’t a skill they recognized, wasn’t a weapon art from any documented academy.

Ronan’s voice emerged as barely a whisper, his usual confidence completely absent.

"Is he... is he really eating them?"

Zavier’s grip on his spear tightened until his knuckles went white, his face showing complex emotions mixing horror and fascination.

Lysa had gone pale, her arrows faltering for the first time, her gentle nature rejecting what she was witnessing.

The Nobles looked at each other with expressions suggesting they’d always suspected commoners were somehow less civilized, but this?!

But Damian didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t acknowledge their stares.

He was too far gone for that.

A creature’s claws tore through his shoulder.

RIP!

He didn’t even flinch.

Just grabbed its arm, bit down, tore the limb completely off, swallowed the flesh while using the severed arm to stab another creature through the skull.

His Self-Healing worked constantly, Aura flowing through his body, closing wounds almost as fast as they appeared.

But the mental degradation continued.

A manic smile formed on his blood-covered face, his crimson eyes showing something approaching madness, his entire being focused on one simple imperative:

Kill! Eat! Survive!

Students watched in horror as their leader transformed into something that seemed more monster than human.

Damian held a severed arm – ripped from a creature he’d just killed – and began eating it like it was the finest delicacy, his teeth grinding through leathery flesh, his throat swallowing chunks whole.

CRUNCH!

Then they heard him whisper, barely audible over the battle.

"I missed this... DeliCiouS~"

The words sent chills through everyone close enough to hear.

Damian’s previous speech echoed in their minds:

["I completely fucking lost my mind."]

Only now did they understand.

He really had lost it.

This wasn’t metaphor or exaggeration.

This was what Damian Valcor became when pushed past breaking point.

A monster wearing human skin.

****

[Will: 295 → 270]

[Perception: 185 → 165]

[Aura Control: B → C+]

Damian’s mental stats continued dropping, his consciousness fragmenting, thoughts becoming simpler, more direct and more focused on the immediate present.

’Kill! Eat! Grow stronger! Kill more! Eat more!’

He crashed through B rank creatures like they were nothing, his enhanced physique from constant consumption making his physical stats climb despite the mental cost.

[Strength: 485 → 492 → 501]

[Speed: 475 → 483 → 495]

...

His body was becoming a weapon, raw power compensating for lost technique.

CRUNCH!

His fist punched through a creature’s chest, fingers wrapping around ribs, tearing them out, the creature collapsing as its internal structure failed.

He bit into the exposed heart, blood spraying across his face.

More creatures poured from passages in the walls, from ahead, from behind, an endless tide that should have overwhelmed them minutes ago.

But Damian was clearing the path.

SLASH! RIP! TEAR!

Every creature in his way died, his enhanced physical stats overwhelming B rank enemies through sheer brutality.

Where technique failed, savagery succeeded.

Where skill was insufficient, hunger filled the gap.

He was a one-man slaughterhouse, carving through the horde like they were nothing.

"FOLLOW HIM!"

Edrin’s voice roared across the formation.

"MORE ARE COMING FROM BEHIND! LET’S HURRY! WE NEED TO KILL THE THING!"

The students rushed forward, using the path Damian’s rampage created, stepping over corpses, splashing through blood, their own humanity straining as they witnessed what survival truly required.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

More core detonations, more students choosing meaningful deaths and more names that would never go home.

Cassius’s Shadow Legion clones were fighting desperately, but even eight copies of himself couldn’t hold back the tide.

Jonathan’s Divine Aegis blazed, but his reserves were nearly empty, his golden wings flickering.

Ben’s Inferno Blade carved through enemies, but exhaustion made each swing heavier.

’There’s no hope... we’re all going to die here!’

The thought echoed through multiple minds simultaneously, watching their numbers dropping, watching Damian being overwhelmed, watching the controller sitting calmly in the center while directing its forces.

They were all dying, slowly and inevitably.

But they kept pushing forward.

Because Damian was still clearing the way.

Because stopping meant certain death.

Because the only hope lay ahead, not behind.

’I-I don’t... have much time... I’m losing... losing... my mind...’

The thought emerged in Damian’s fragmenting consciousness, one of the last coherent observations before awareness dissolved completely.

[Will: 170 → 90]

His hands moved automatically now, instinct rather than thought, body remembering what mind could no longer direct.

Then the passage opened.

They entered a massive chamber.

Easily two hundred meters across, the ceiling disappearing into darkness above, the walls covered in massive eggs that pulsed with sickly light.

And in the center...

Sat a small creature.