Bloody Odyssey

Chapter 93 93: Demon

The cave trembled.

Outside, the bone wyvern—Anastas's hydra wyvern—clashed violently against the m massive magic beasts drawn by the demonic energy. The Vethral bird, a creature boiling with rage, formed tornadoes that battered the wyvern's skeletal frame. Ribs cracked. Vertebrae splintered. Dragon heads were torn from their necks, one by one.

But the hydra's instant regeneration saved it time and again.

Every time a head was destroyed, two more grew in its place. Every time a wing was shredded, bone knit back together. The wyvern fought without its master's direct energy—feeding on something deeper, something its master had woven into its very being.

The Wind King roared. Tornadoes intensified.

But the wyvern did not fall.

Inside the cave, an oppressive aura filled every corner.

Ominous. Disgusting. The weight of something ancient and hungry pressed against Anastas's skin, squeezed his lungs, and clawed at the edges of his mind.

His face twisted in pain, his thoughts darkening.

Demonic energy.

This energy was poison to humans—with the exception of a few.

"What… what is wrong with me?"

His voice broke.

He was standing before a burning house.

Flames licked at the sky. The heat was unbearable, and through the smoke, he could see them—two figures embracing in the fire. His brother. His mother. Their skin blistering. Their mouths open in silent screams.

How many times has it been now?

He curled into himself.

Sixty-eight?

Behind him, shadow-like beings appeared on childlike frames. They pointed at him. Accusing.

It's all your fault. It's all your fault. You weren't there. You didn't save them.

The pain hooked his heart.

Guilt.

Outside his mind, demonic energy thrummed through his body. His veins ran black. His heartbeat slowed. He was being consumed.

"Kekeke."

A wisp of madness found Anastas through the demonic energy.

It coalesced in the corner of the cave—a shape, then a figure, then something that wore the skin of a man but moved like a predator. It tilted its head, observing the convulsing human with hungry eyes.

Hyak. What a blessing.

The demonic entity watched cautiously.

"A ghoul?" It shook its head. "No… it reeks of ghouls, but his soul is different."

It circled Anastas's still form, careful not to touch.

"I don't know how the dead can harness demonic energy. Truly out of the ordinary."

A smile spread across its shifting face.

"But he's falling into demonic deviation. At this point, he'll just be a maddened killer." Its eyes gleamed. "So I will take your interesting body for myself."

The entity transformed into a wisp of demonic essence and flowed into Anastas's mouth, his nose, his ears.

Inside Anastas's mind, eyes appeared.

Dozens of them. Hundreds. They watched the burning house, the curled figure, the endless loop of grief. They observed his demons at play—the guilt, the self-blame, the faces of the dead pointing at him.

I was wrong. This is a human. He was shocked. Why does a human have the air of a ghoul? This situation feels wrong.

But still, this is my opportunity.

Increase demonic overload.

The entity pushed more energy into Anastas's brain. It flooded his thoughts, his memories, his sense of self.

Seize control.

How easy.

It settled into his neural pathways, wrapping around his consciousness like a snake around prey.

After you enter demonic deviation, I will seize your body for myself.

It felt every fiber of Anastas. Every muscle. Every bone. Every flicker of thought.

Warning. Warning. Host brain is being overwritten.

The notification appeared behind the entity's vision—floating text, red and urgent, originating from somewhere deep in Anastas's skull.

What is this sorcery?

The demonic entity could see through Anastas's eyes now. It looked around the cave, then inward—at the systems, the structures, the impossible architecture layered beneath human flesh.

What is that?

Through the AI lens, it saw things it could not understand.

Anastas drowned in limbo.

The burning house. The embracing figures. The flames that consumed everything he had ever loved. He had no part in their deaths—he knew that, somewhere beneath. But knowing did not stop the feeling.

You should have been there.

You could have saved them.

You let them die.

He began to blame himself instead of the man who had burnt their house. The arsonist had become a shadow. The guilt had become the face of the enemy.

Pat.

Pat.

Pat.

Footsteps wavered through the flames.

A burnt little figure stepped out of the fire. His skin cracked, weeping, blackened by heat. His eyes—one of them—found Anastas.

He walked toward him.

Pat.

Pat.

Pat.

He reached Anastas. His burnt palm stretched out—trembling, fragile—and touched his cheek.

Clap.

For a moment, the burnt figure transformed. The ruined flesh fell away, revealing an exact look-alike of Anastas. Same face. Same eyes—except this one's hair was deep black, like the current form Anastas had taken.

They faced each other. Heads joined. Forehead to forehead.

"Wake up, brother."

The figure smiled.

"This is not the end for you."

Anastas's eyes widened.

"Ariel?"

The true name of his twin. His alter ego. The voice that had lived in his head.

Instantly, Anastas lunged forward—wrapping his arms around his brother, holding him tight, refusing to let go.

Just then, Ariel broke into a million pieces.

Fragments of light scattered through the darkness, drifting upward like ash from a fire.

Anastas screamed.

"A—r—i—e—l!"

His voice broke. He clawed at the fragments, trying to gather them, trying to hold them together. No, no, no, no—

As the remaining pieces blew away.

"Kekeke."

The demonic entity smiled.

It looked down at Anastas—not as a human, but as the man hovering above the burning house. The arsonist. The cause. It wore his face, his cruelty, his indifference.

Anastas's eyes snapped upward.

The moment he heard the demonic cackles, something in him shifted.

Murderer.

His eyes were bloodshot. His body trembled with rage. To him, this demon was the man who had caused all of this. The man who had taken everything.

And he was going to erase him.

The demon tried to retreat.

It pulled back, attempting to sink into the depths of Anastas's being—to hide, to wait, to strike again another day. But something stopped it.

His crown.

The bone crown manifested—not on his head, but around the demon. A cage of white bone and ancient will, trapping the entity where it stood.

Anastas rose.

Not with his body—but with his self. He took to the sky like a ghost, his form translucent, his eyes burning. The dead hovered around him—wraiths, specters, the souls he had consumed. They parted as he passed.

In a flash, he was before the demon.

Hands on its neck.

Every movement he made was swift and final. He began to refine the physical manifestation of the demon—not destroying it, but converting it.

The entity screamed as its essence was stripped away, purified, taken.

Above Anastas's core, an embryo began to form.

Demonic.

Not corrupting. Not possessing. His. The demonic energy that had been influencing him gathered into a single point—compressed and controlled.

Wraiths expelled from Anastas's body. They bit into the shadowy figure of the demon, tore chunks from its form, swallowing its soul essence. Each bite fed the growing core.

"Lowly Abby, you can't do this." The voice of panic was evident.

What is this thing that restricts me? He looked at the bone crown holding him in place.

"I am a principality. You can't consume me. You don't have the right." He slammed his hands against the crown, which responded with a world-shaking ripple that destabilized his soul.

Anastas did not stop.

In the cave, his physical body opened its eyes.

Dark and hollow, the air around him was different—like that of a demon. Anastas laughed, touching his belly.

"Thanks to this demonic energy, I've completed the seven cycles and finally become a rank seven necromancer. Not only that, I'm brimming with demonic energy."

"Layla."

"Yes, Master." His left eye glowed.

"Give me a full analysis of my current condition."

He spoke to his AI lenses, which responded with a full breakdown.

"Ohh, I see."

"Hahahaha!" His shoulders trembled.

"You tried to take my body for your own." Anastas spoke within to the demon devoured by countless souls.

"Principalities, my foot." Something was deeply wrong with Anastas.

"Well, I can only thank you." He lifted his fist, swallowing it whole.

He straightened his back as it cracked melodiously. From his coat, he removed his blade and cut his palm.

"I offer this breakthrough to you. Only a god can give power like this."

"Captain, I know your secret." He vanished, appearing beside his fighting beast.

"You are a God." He smiled.