Becoming the Dark Lord

Chapter 548: Demon Banquet

Standing before the mirror, Luke removed the eyepatch and studied Sariel's Eye. Just keeping it open was exhausting, not magically, but mentally. It made him appreciate Willpower in a whole new way.

Before inheriting the eye, he'd only known two things about it: the natural skills [Sariel's Identify] and [Rank Skill Devourer], the latter allowing him to steal a rank skill from someone in the moment of death. But there was something he hadn't expected. If he used the eye's Identify on himself through a reflection, things became… more interesting.

[Eye of Sariel (Unique)]

Description: They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. This one is a shattered fragment of it. The Eye of Sariel carries the wounded remnant of a being that was once an archangel of immense power. Over time, its greatness crumbled, reducing it to a thief of bodies, desperate to continue existing yet incapable of understanding its own purpose.

Instead of guiding the lesser beings back to their home, Sariel chose to walk among them, taking what was never his. What he failed to foresee was that among those lesser beings existed something cunning, patient, and malevolent.

A demon.

This eye is all that remains. Not redemption, only echoes.

Enchantments:

[Sariel's Identify (Unique)]: Sariel possessed an absolute gift of analysis, capable of seeing souls, systems, and hidden truths. The fragment preserved within this eye, though weakened, allows the user to analyze items and reveal deep information. However, the quality and depth of the analysis vary according to the complexity of the target, reflecting what remains of Sariel's true power.

[Rank Skill Devourer (Unique)]: Even reduced to a fragment, the eye retains a trace of Sariel's ancient hunger for knowledge and power. It can devour a Rank skill, absorbing its essence and claiming that power as its own.

Rank Skill Slot: [Echoes of Death (Rank F)], [Rank Slot Locked]

Requirement: SoulBound.

Secondary Skills: [Sensitivity to Mana], [Accelerated Regeneration], [Mana Recovery], [360-Degree Vision], [Long-Distance Sight], [Mythic Immunity: Blindness], [Mythic Immunity: Charm], [Mythic Immunity: Hypnosis], [Mythic Immunity: Intimidation], [Mythic Immunity: Panic], [Temporal Resistance], [Archangel's Eye]

The sheer number of passive secondary skills explained why Luke's mind felt wrung out whenever he wasn't wearing the eyepatch. At least he'd learned how to disable most of them, easing the pressure the eye dumped directly into his brain. But the second Rank Skill slot was still there. Waiting.

The skill allowed him to take a second Rank Skill, but it was still locked. His best guess was that it would unlock when he advanced to the next rank… whichever rank that happened to be. That was a problem for future Luke.

The secondary skill didn't display rarity markers. He suspected they simply matched his own rank.

"I think it's time."

He stepped out of the bathroom and headed toward Angie and Charlie.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone in Azazel's realm, and my body will remain here."

"We'll watch over it," Angie said.

"Yes," Charlie added quickly.

"Girls, since he won't be conscious… this is the perfect chance to do questionable things to him," Artemis chimed in.

"Stop talking nonsense," Luke said.

He lay down on the bed. Charlie's face was bright red.

"Don't worry. I'll protect you, Master Luke," she whispered.

"I'll see you both soon."

"I'll be waiting," Angie told him.

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Luke poured mana into the invitation. It darkened, shimmered, and vanished. A wave of exhaustion hit him immediately. One blink later he was still sitting, then his body slumped back onto the bed.

This is weird.

He was in some kind of astral projection. His physical form began fading as he was transported.

I hope I finally learn what Event 51 is.

He was pulled upward, passing through the ceiling, shooting into the sky. Then the stratosphere. Then space. His speed climbed so sharply that the world blurred into darkness. Moments later he was streaking through a tunnel of swirling colors, like a rainbow made of starlight.

When he stopped, the sensation was like slamming on the brakes of a speeding car. He stumbled and hit the floor.

That was intense.

He touched his clothes, his arms, his chest. Everything felt solid. Physical. Or something very close to it. He stood inside a dimly lit room.

"You're late," a voice said behind him.

"Samael?" he asked.

The voice was the same, but the appearance wasn't. A red-skinned figure with horns and a tail stood there, wearing an ornate robe.

"Oh, right. That's not how you first met me."

His form rippled, shifting into the sharply dressed man Luke remembered, horns still visible.

"There. Now I'm familiar."

"You told me demons looking red with tails was just pop-culture nonsense from my universe," Luke pointed out.

"I'm a demon. I lie sometimes."

Samael started walking. "You're late. You were supposed to arrive, what, two weeks ago? No one keeps the sovereign waiting."

"He's not my sovereign. He's my father. That's what you mean, isn't it?"

Samael halted. "Annoyingly accurate."

He resumed walking.

Luke followed him through a lavish corridor of a castle. Crimson carpet with gold embroidery stretched ahead.

"So are we in Hell, or what?"

"Hell? No. That aesthetic isn't really our thing. Also, you arrived in the middle of a dinner."

Luke touched his own torso. "Am I a spirit or… what am I exactly?"

"Your true self is your soul. Your flesh-body is just clothing. Here, the flesh was reconstructed from the soul. You aren't a projection," Samael said.

Luke continued down the corridor as the doors slid open and shut on their own.

"Do you know how to use utensils, or do you eat with your hands?"

"Of course I know."

"Your universe is so primitive I had to ask."

He could tell the demon was just mocking him.

"So this is a dinner with Azazel?"

"A dinner with the Sovereign? You really know nothing about his situation, do you?" Samael's tone carried a hint of disbelief. "The dinner is with his top generals. And among them are the ones who wanted you dead for receiving his blood."

"Sounds like a lovely evening. How many of them belong to the faction that wants my head?"

"All of them, myself included."

"Is there a faction that doesn't want me dead?"

"Only the ones who preferred to torture you instead."

"Fair."

Luke touched the necklace. "Artemis has been quiet."

"What you would call an A.I. was likely routed to what you would call the central computer the moment you arrived here."

The door ahead opened, and Luke stepped into a room filled with heated argument. None of the occupants noticed, or chose not to notice, him and Samael entering.

"That miserable human, when he shows up, I'm going to make him soil himself," snarled a red-scaled demon that looked like a humanoid lizard.

"If we can't kill him, torture is still on the table. Does anyone know if he survives drinking lava?" asked a woman made of pale smoke.

"He thinks he's some little king just for coming here. I'll put him back in his place," the lizard demon added.

"Intestines in the brain, brain in the intestines. A lovely change of positions," said a wooden puppet in a butler's outfit, its voice disturbingly calm.

Samael cleared his throat softly. The room fell silent.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Samael announced. "This is Luke Moon, son of our Sovereign Azazel."

Eight figures sat around the long dining table. All of them turned their eyes toward Luke.

"Luke Moon," Samael continued, "these are what you might call Demon Lords. Though only one is actually a demon. They are the generals of Azazel's army."

The silence was anything but welcoming.

"At the head of the table, the spirit-like woman is Nadian, a Banshee," Samael explained. "The blue woman made of water is an Undine named Fiora."

Luke studied them one by one.

"The lizard demon is Kor'Neroth. The butler puppet is a cursed construct, its serial number is too long to pronounce, so we simply call it C3. The black creature is Serious Laughter, a Shadow Spirit."

Luke's eyes caught on a human woman with brown hair.

"She is Olivia. Human once, now a Lady of Time. Next is Gali, a Moon Panther in humanoid form. And the last at the table is…"

A beautiful elf with golden hair met Luke's gaze.

"The original Artemis," Samael finished.