After taking out a few more waves just to satisfy his cravings, Belial leaned back and started to reflect, well, more like lazily think while digesting.
He wondered if taking out these massive migrating herds could lead to long-term damage, but being full made it hard to care too much. He decided he'd try to cut back next time.
Probably.
That said, he knew himself well enough. If he got hungry again, he'd do it all over. The power of ice had made his meals so much easier, it was like flash-freezing everything and just inhaling it all in one go. Like slurping down a cold drink.
He had no clue how it worked, but even though he was eating mountains of monsters, his body absorbed it all, digesting it like nothing. The sheer volume should've been impossible, but his metabolism was something else.
Inside him, his core buzzed like a nuclear reactor, flooding energy through every part of his body. His stomach churned through bone, flesh, and fur like a machine made to consume, pumping more strength into his ever-growing form.
He could feel himself getting stronger with every bite, like each feast directly added new layers to his power. It was a satisfying feeling, the kind that made him let out a soft sigh of contentment.
Hunting used to be more of a gamble, effort-heavy and full of surprises, like opening random loot boxes.
Now, it felt like being handed an all-you-can-eat buffet where the food came running to him. He didn't even have to move. How was he supposed to resist something like that?
Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt a tiny pang of concern.
"Maybe I should slow down a bit... in case these migrations keep happening," he thought.
If it was a regular thing, then yeah, he could afford to pace himself. But deep down, he knew the truth: if the next stampede came charging his way again, he'd be ready, mouth open, ice breath swirling, appetite roaring.
Belial understood the difference between an occasional indulgence and constant feasting, and he almost always chose the latter. Whether it was magical beasts or the wild animals he remembered from his old world, the rules didn't change much.
Predators went after the easiest targets, the young, the injured, or the old. The young were usually protected by their families, so it was the weak and the worn-out who were left behind as sacrifices.
It was nature's way of filtering the herd. Any basic school textbook could explain that part. But Belial wasn't like ordinary predators.
He didn't just pick off the easy ones. He went after everything, hunter and hunted, strong and weak alike. He left nothing behind, not even splinters of bone.
Even compared to those massive, wriggling tendril monsters lurking nearby, he stood at the top of the food chain. His real edge wasn't just raw strength, it was digestion.
That was the terrifying part. He could eat more than his body should logically hold and still look the same on the outside And you, dear reader, if you think that was intense, just wait. This chapter's only getting started. Keep reading. You'll see.
Inside his massive body, that bottomless hunger never seemed to go away. If Belial ever decided to drop everything and open his world map, he knew the state of the ecosystem would look grim.
It wasn't even a joke anymore. Brushing off bones and scraps clinging to his wings, he kicked off the ground with a grunt. His huge body shimmered with frost, the lingering carcasses sliding off his wings like snow off a rooftop.
Above him, sunlight pierced the thinning clouds, casting a cold, golden light. It hit his wings just right, making them shine like glaciers.
His wings were massive now, each scale layered like armor, each bone in his wings strong as steel. Every slow shift of muscle beneath his icy skin moved like a mountain rolling over in its sleep.
When he stretched his wings, the sheer surface area caught the wind and twisted it into storms. Just one flap was enough to send shockwaves across the land, stirring snow into whirlwinds and casting a shadow large enough to cover a whole valley.
With the wind swirling around him and snow constantly falling, flight was easier than ever. A couple of wingbeats, and he'd already cleared the clouds.
To help himself lift off, he used gravity magic to lighten his weight. Then, with all his muscles coiled together like springs, he pushed off the ground. The earth cracked beneath him, leaving a deep crater in his wake.
The giant dragon shot into the sky, moving like a force of nature. The storms nearby thickened into thunderclouds, hiding his massive form.
Behind him, only trails of clouds and distant echoes of thunder remained, like footprints for a creature far too big to be seen.
"Rooooaaaar!" Belial's roar tore through the sky, shaking the clouds as he soared higher. His chest rumbled with excitement. "I smell something interesting!" And with that, he ripped through the sky like a living missile.
Back on the ground, the battlefield he'd just cleared was still and quiet, scattered only with bones. The snow, carried by the ever-falling blizzard, had already started filling in the massive wounds torn through the land.
Whoosh...
Light steps pressed into the snow. A presence flickered into view, silent and barely noticeable.
From the swirling white, a figure appeared, cloaked in stillness. One by one, more shapes emerged around him, kneeling without a word.
"I saw everything," the lead figure said, his tone light but sharp. "Just like you predicted, our little plan fell apart."
He grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp, unnatural teeth.
"But don't worry. It's just an old white dragon. It got lucky, absorbed a bit of power from that offering, and managed to break out of the seal. Impressive, sure, but that's the end of it."
As he spoke, he held up a hand. Magic shimmered at his fingertips, gathering the ice lingering in the air. A delicate flower made of frost formed in his palm.
A nuisance, yes, but hardly worth worrying about. Through that trace of power, he'd gotten a glimpse of the dragon's hidden hand.
Nothing truly dangerous. Just leftovers from a long-dead sacrifice. Even if the dragon could tap into its full potential, he wasn't worried.
He smirked. "You arrogant fossil. Whether you've figured out our plans or are just getting in the way, it doesn't matter. You won't stop what's coming. No one can shut a door that's already open."
He turned to the figures kneeling in the snow. "Spread the word. We might be able to squeeze in one more piece for the final act. That dragon? It'll burn out like a moth flying into fire."
The shadows bowed even lower.
"Yes, Priest."
"The web is spun," the man said proudly, raising the ice flower like a banner. "Be proud, you stand at the beginning of their grand arrival."