SSS-Rank Evolving Monster: From Pest to Cosmic Devourer-Chapter 41: something that should not exist

The masked leader came to a sudden halt, his boots grinding against the loamy forest floor. In the moonlit silence, his abrupt pause sent a ripple of confusion through the ranks behind him.

Several cultists almost bumped into each other, quickly steadying themselves. They looked to him with puzzled expressions, unsure what had drawn his attention so suddenly.

But the leader didn’t turn to explain. He stood still, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse ahead. An eerie silence wrapped around him, almost as if the forest itself were holding its breath.

His voice broke the stillness, soft but strained.

"...What is this terrifying energy?"

It was not a question meant for others. It was instinct, an unconscious whisper born from dread. Just moments ago, a surge—no, a convulsion—of mana had roared across the land like a silent storm. It wasn’t natural. Mana didn’t behave like that.

Before the thought could settle, a sharp cry broke out from behind.

"What is that—?!"

The voice was raw and cracked with fear. Genuine, unfiltered terror. As if its owner had just laid eyes on something that should not exist.

The leader turned—

But something was already there.

From within the shadows, twin eyes burned like twin moons—cold, distant, yet filled with overwhelming malice. They stared without emotion, as if gazing down on worms.

Then it emerged.

A mosquito, but impossibly large—grotesque in form and terrifying in presence. Its entire body shimmered with a metallic luster, every inch of its exoskeleton covered in dark, battle-hardened steel. Thick plates overlapped one another like ancient armor forged for war. Blood-red runes pulsed faintly along its limbs, as if alive.

It wasn’t just a beast.

It was a calamity.

The merging of Superior Iron Frame and Superior Blood Infusion had transformed Ricky into a nightmare incarnate—half-organic, half-machine, dripping with unholy vitality. Blood and steel blended together in his appearance, as if he had been built by a mad god.

"So much lifespan..." Ricky’s voice was a rasping whisper, yet it carried clearly through the trees. "I want it all."

His Lifespan Sense burned in his mind like a beacon. The sea of vibrant life around him dazzled his senses, brighter than any bonfire.

"Today," he said, voice cold and calm, "none of you shall survive."

Before a single cultist could react, Ricky vanished from sight.

A flicker—then a scream.

He reappeared before the nearest cultist like a ghost through mist, his massive form blotting out the moonlight.

The cultist froze. His eyes widened, the whites overtaking his irises. His mouth opened to scream, but no sound came.

Ricky didn’t wait.

His sharpened proboscis slammed forward, piercing flesh and bone as if they were paper. A warm wave of vitality surged into him, golden and thick.

[+15 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

[+43 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

His head shuddered slightly. Along with the energy, flashes of foreign memories spilled into him—fragments of thoughts, half-formed rituals, glimpses of dark altars and forbidden rites.

Something about those memories... unsettled him.

But there was no time to analyze.

The cultist’s body crumpled to the forest floor like a deflated bag of meat.

The leader finally reacted. "That’s the damned mosquito! Kill it! Don’t let it escape—capture its soul!"

His shout rang out like a bell, snapping the others into motion. Spells ignited, blades were drawn, and spirit tools began to glow.

But it was too late.

The moment for defense had passed.

Ricky turned toward the leader.

The masked man surged forward, sword raised high, aura flaring like a signal fire.

"Die, puny pest—!"

He never finished.

A shadow flickered.

Ricky moved.

There was a pause—a delay—as the man’s body processed what had happened.

Then he split clean in two. From shoulder to hip, blood fountained from the deep gash. Both halves slid apart and crumpled to the ground with a wet thud.

"CONTACT!" someone screamed.

Then all hell broke loose.

Ricky dove into their ranks like a curse made manifest. The air twisted around him, warped by the seething darkness that clung to his body like liquid shadow.

The spiritual seed inside him pulsed, greedily absorbing the ambient mana.

He raised one arm, dark energy swirling at his palm.

It was time.

"Darkness Pulse."

A violent pulse of black mana exploded outward from his core. It moved like a shockwave, but it devoured light instead of sound.

The effect was instant.

Dark tendrils burst from the gloom, like jagged spikes of sentient night, and impaled dozens of cultists. Each one screamed as their soul was pierced, their essence drawn out, corrupted, and fed into the abyss.

[+34 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

[+54 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

[+75 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

A beautiful chime echoed through the chaos with each life taken—delicate, divine, and cruel.

Ricky grinned.

More.

He flickered again, closing the distance to another cluster of cultists. His claws, reinforced with steel and overflowing with dark Amma, slashed horizontally.

Time itself seemed to recoil from the strike.

Skin aged and cracked. Hair grayed and fell out. Bodies shriveled in an instant. Decades of life training vanished with a single touch.

They collapsed into heaps of brittle bone and limp flesh.

"Monster!" someone cried.

Panic rippled through what remained of the group. Dozens fell back, watching in horror as their leader—one of Ghostly Face’s direct subordinates—was turned into bloody mulch.

"We can’t defeat him!" a sharp-eyed cultist yelled. "RUN!"

His voice carried desperation—but also clarity.

It was the truth.

The rest needed no further encouragement. They scattered like insects, fleeing in every direction.

Some launched spells in blind desperation, while others hurled enchanted artifacts behind them. But none of it mattered.

Ricky weaved through it all, his body dancing through the storm like a phantom of death.

"Cowards!" he hissed. "Fight me!"

He surged forward again—but they were too spread out now.

He couldn’t chase them all.

So instead—

He closed his eyes, and spoke.

"Sleeper cells. Activate."

A command.

An order written in venom.

Inside the bodies of the marked cultists, the dormant poison reacted. Threads of Ricky’s toxin surged into their veins, infecting every cell.

Blood solidified.

Muscles locked. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

One by one, they fell.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Their bodies slammed into the forest floor, eyes wide, mouths frozen mid-scream.

"Oh lord, save me..."

"Damn you, mosquito! You’ll die a brutal death!"

Their voices trembled with helpless rage, but Ricky didn’t flinch.

He no longer cared.

Their hatred meant nothing.

The energy continued to flow into him—raw, intoxicating.

[+74 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

[+94 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

[+65 Days of Lifespan Absorbed]

He lost himself in the slaughter.

Each kill made him feel stronger. Each soul taken added to the storm inside his core. His body moved without thought now, gliding from one target to another like a blade in the wind.

He felt invincible.

He felt eternal.

He might’ve kept going forever—

Until something in his mind pulsed. The spiritual seed at his core throbbed, its surface cracking slightly under the pressure.

A sharp jolt of pain spread through his head.

Ricky came to a stop, chest heaving lightly, the shadows around him flickering.

"...Damn. Used too much mana."

But even as he said it, a smile tugged at his lips.

He looked around.

The forest floor was soaked with blood.

Dozens of corpses lay scattered like discarded dolls, their faces frozen in horror.

And at the center of it all—he stood. Still whole. Still hungry.

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