The Damned Demon

Rebecca's foot tapped against the dark floor with rhythmic irritation, her arms crossed tightly over her voluptuous chest.

Her narrowed, dark red eyes reflected the dark green light emanating from the threads of eerie mana weaving through the air around Asher.

He sat cross-legged on the floor in deep meditation, his body lost in the storm of unnatural energy.

But to Rebecca, he didn't look like a man anymore—more like a specter. His skin and flesh were veiled in darkness, and the intense radiance of the mana lit up the contours of his glowing skeleton like a dying star fighting to be reborn.

A sight both awe-inspiring and infuriating.

"It's been more than a week," Rebecca muttered under her breath. Her voice grew sharper as she turned, "Just how long is he going to be like this?"

Her gaze landed on the figure that stood lifelessly to the side, unmoving as a statue—Skully. His black staff was embedded into the ground beside him, his eye sockets dim and unreadable.

"My answer won't change," Skully replied without turning his head. His hollow voice echoed as if spoken from the depths of a grave, "It depends on how fast he can adapt to the mana his body needs instead of the inferior mana he had been using all this time."

Rebecca clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. She hated how emotionless he sounded.

"What's so special about the mana in this place, anyway?" she snapped. "As far as I know, it nearly killed me and Lori if not for your fancy vials."

Skully remained still as he said,

"You are fortunate that the mana here has gotten considerably weaker over eons," he said. "And also because it is sustaining me. If it wasn't contained within this place, life as you know it wouldn't exist. The world would have been nothing more than a charred wasteland… like the lands above."

Rebecca's brows lifted. The idea that the mana around her—this cold, pulsing energy—was a weakened version of its original form made her feel dizzy.

"Wait… If immortal humans like you ruled this world once, how the hell did you people survive with this kind of mana all around?"

"This mana didn't come from us," Skully's voice was just as hollow, just as steady, "Humans can only use radiant mana. This… came from something else. Something greater than an immortal human."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "You mean… a devil?"

"Not exactly." Skully didn't move. "But if he had lived long enough, he could've become one. The mana that emanated from him was not darkness as you understand it… It was divine darkness. That is why Asher can survive in it and why this place feeds him. His bloodline is not meant to be restrained by a mortal shell as you already know."

Rebecca's mouth hung open slightly as she tried to grasp what she had just heard. "Wait… Are you saying the mana in this entire ruin is—"

"A Deviar," Skully finished.

Silence.

Rebecca staggered back half a step. Her lips parted in disbelief, "You can't be serious… A real Deviar?"

She thought about all the ancient texts, all the corrupted scholars, the obsessed madmen who chased power and perished in the dark. She had seen those shriveled corpses lining the outer ruins… They weren't just looters. Some of them could have been seekers—sacrifices to something far older and divine.

"If that's true," she said after a moment, regaining her voice, "then why can't I use it too? I'm no weakling. I've got a legendary bloodline. I could at least handle a taste of it."

"The Deviars you've seen in quests or implanted by devils are diluted," Skully said. "Designed for mortals to consume without a certain possibility of immediate death. This one is different. Purity invites annihilation for mortals like you."

Rebecca scoffed. "But you said it's weaker now, right? So I should have a chance."

"Yes." Skully paused. "A 0.1% chance that you will survive despite being one of the strongest ones in this world."

Rebecca gulped.

"And what were his odds? He survived it," she asked slowly, her voice almost a whisper.

"Ninety-nine point nine percent," Skully replied without a shred of pride or judgment. "The moment I forced his body and mind to remember."

Rebecca's breath caught. Her heart twisted.

That gap between them… felt immeasurable. And the worst part?

She had accepted it.

She looked back at Asher's figure—still shrouded in that spiraling storm of mana, unmoving.

He was an alien in every way and to realize he wasn't really a mortal only made her feel small in a way she couldn't describe. As if she wasn't worthy of him. To be worthy of being by his side.

The thought stung and she felt pathetic.

And in that moment—

A whisper of air, the soft hum of metal against stone.

Valeria descended like a shadow cast from the Seven Hells, her dark armor reflecting the same green hue. Her long crimson cape fluttered behind her as Twilight leapt from her shoulder and landed on the floor, stretching.

Rebecca immediately snapped around, her frustration boiling to the surface.

"You there! Fight me."

Valeria tilted her head slightly as if silently questioning why she should.

Rebecca stormed toward her, her finger pointed at Valeria's chestplate.

"If I'm not going to get stronger using that death trap of a mana, then I'll sharpen my blade on something else. And there's no one better here to fight than the walking monster that calls herself her master's disciple."

Rebecca was desperate to become better in whatever way possible so that she could prove to be useful to him when the time came. The last thing she wanted was to be weak and a burden.

Valeria stood in silence, her gaze locked on Rebecca, but she gave no answer.

Not until her eyes shifted, very slightly, towards her master who gave a faint nod.

Valeria turned back.

"You may start." Her voice was calm, flat—devoid of arrogance or emotion.

Rebecca scoffed bitterly, her pride already burning, "Oh, already looking down on me, huh?"

Before Valeria could even blink, Rebecca snarled and lashed out.

Her fist arced through the air with brutal force, the wind around her hand distorting with the sheer pressure. It connected with Valeria's helmet right at the side of her cheek.

CLANG!!!

A metallic thunderclap echoed across the ruins, followed by a shockwave that scattered dust and cracked the stone beneath their feet. Valeria's head snapped to the side from the impact… but her body didn't move.

Not even a single step back.

Rebecca's eyes widened. Her punch had been backed by her full strength, empowered with dark blood mana and every fiber in her muscle. Yet Valeria stood firm like a wall carved from the bones of dragons.

"YAAARGHHH!!" Rebecca roared as she unleashed another volley of fists.

Left, right, left—each punch thundered against Valeria's helmet, snapping her head with each hit like the strike of a war drum. But Valeria didn't respond. Didn't even flinch. Didn't block.

She just let her stand there and hit her.

After a couple of punches, Rebecca's knuckles screamed in agony. Her fingers were beginning to swell, and her arms trembled from exertion. Pain lanced through her bones with every hit. And still—Valeria stood, like an immovable monolith.

Rebecca gasped, her breath ragged as she backed up, her arms shaking.

"I'm not... done yet!" she snarled, desperation tinging her voice.

She conjured a long, jagged spike of ice fused with thick blood. Its edge shimmered with killing intent as she rushed forward to drive it into Valeria's neck.

But the spike never landed.

With a casual flick, Valeria slapped and shattered the blood-ice weapon aside as if it were a child's toy.

Rebecca barely had time to blink before Valeria's gauntlet wrapped around her throat and yanked her in close.

"Wh—!"

CRACK!!!

Valeria's helmet smashed into Rebecca's face like a falling meteor. A sickening crunch echoed as her nose shattered, the skin around it tearing, blood bursting out in a violent spray. The shockwave rippled through her skull, and the force sent her crashing onto her back.

She lay sprawled, her face a picture of blood and bruises. The left side of her jaw was crooked. Skin peeled away from her temple. Blood ran into her eyes. Everything blurred.

It was as if she was struck with such precision to not kill her.

Above her, Valeria stood in silence for a heartbeat longer. Then she walked away without a word.

Rebecca gasped, coughing blood. Her pride, her fury, her determination—all crushed beneath that one blow.

"Y-You… what kind of… monster… ar-are you…?" she wheezed. "You can't… be a… mortal…" She felt even the Moon Guardian couldn't be this strong, making her feel like some bug that didn't even stand a chance.

Never in her life had she been handed over such a humiliating defeat, especially as a peak Soul Devourer.

Her blurred vision swam until she saw a towering silhouette approaching—Skully.

His deathless presence loomed above her, casting a chilling shadow across the floor.

"What you witnessed was close to the strength possessed by her ancestor at his peak," Skully said, his voice as empty and dead as ever. "Raziel… who inherited the power of Drakaris. Even if my disciple is a mortal like Raziel, she is not a Soul Devourer."

Rebecca's eyes barely remained open, blood trickling down her lips, "Wha… what are you… talking about…?"

"Her strength exists beyond what you have seen in your life," Skully continued, emotionless, "A level of power above what this world calls Soul Devourer."

Even with her mind reeling, Rebecca's pupils trembled. "A… level above… Soul Devourer…?"

"Yes," Skully answered. "She is what you could call… a Soul Tyrant."

Rebecca's eyes widened briefly at the name—one she had only vaguely remembered but heard whispered in ancient texts and forbidden tombs. A myth. A legend. Something no one truly believed existed anymore.

Who would have known it was really true?

Then—darkness claimed her as her body fell limp.