Lucifer's ethereal form trembled with a potent, primal urge—an urge to unleash a wrath so unfathomable upon these hapless souls that it would shake the very foundations of their existence. Deep within the recesses of his being, the dark desires of criminals surged forth, a tidal wave of malevolence that compelled him to put an end to their lives.
But he stood there, rooted in place, his ethereal essence held back by an invisible force. Experience had taught him the horrifying consequences of succumbing to the whims of impulsive actions, driven by emotions that threatened to consume him whole.
Yet, make no mistake, he harbored no intentions of sparing these wretches. Oh no. Their sins were so grievous, so despicable, that they deserved a punishment so severe it would rend their souls into tattered shreds. A quick death would be a mercy they did not deserve. No, he yearned to subject them to a torment so unspeakable, so unimaginable, that they would beg for the sweet release of death in their final moments.
However, even in his seething fury, he acknowledged his vulnerability in the present moment. He knew all too well that launching an attack now would result in swift defeat at the hands of his adversaries.
His gaze bore into the faces of each individual, etching their identities upon his very essence. With a heavy heart, he made the difficult choice to retreat from the scene. The battle to restrain his inner demons grew increasingly arduous, and he feared the fragile threads of his self-control would snap. Besides, the issue of depleted Skill Energy further complicated matters.
Lucifer glided toward Wrath and Victor, his movements slow and deliberate.
"Meet me at the same restaurant tomorrow. And I need every goddamn detail about the Phoenix Feather Sect and the other Fourth Grade sects in this area," he commanded, his voice somewhat uneven .
Without a moment's hesitation, he resolved to depart from the city.
But as he prepared to depart, he noticed a trickle of blood emerging from Wrath's nose and ears. Curiosity piqued within him, but his current state of mind prevented him from delving into the matter. Ignoring the urge to inquire, he swiftly departed, leaving the unanswered question behind.
After venturing deep into the forest, far from prying eyes, Lucifer settled down and assumed his human form. He closed his eyes, seeking solace amidst the cacophony of emotions that threatened to tear him apart, to unravel the very fabric of his being.
But as his eyelids shut, a vivid memory clawed its way to the forefront of his mind—a memory of Emily.
"I can call you Big Brother, right Ghost Brother?" Emily's words echoed, accompanied by her innocent, childlike smile.
Then, the scene shifted, unveiling the haunting image of Emily's lifeless body on the cold, worn bed...
"AHHHHHHHHH!" Lucifer's anguished cry pierced the air as he rose, unleashing his torment upon a nearby tree. Blow after blow, his fists collided with the wood, his knuckles cracking and blood staining his skin.
He refused to stop, relentless in his assault until exhaustion claimed him and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood that covered his hands.
His first, his only friend in this unfamiliar word—how could he fathom this cruel reality? The significance of Emily overwhelmed his thoughts. While she lived, he had convinced himself that he would not sacrifice his life for her. Now, reflecting upon it, he yearned to trade places with her, to have perished instead.
Lying there, he wept until sleep eventually claimed him. It marked his first slumber since arriving in this world—a realm where ghosts knew no rest. Now, as a Devil, he embraced the oblivion of dreams.
.....
As Lucifer roused from his slumber, nightfall had already descended upon the world. He sat motionless, lost in contemplation, allowing his thoughts to swirl within him.
Gradually, he immersed himself in meditation, facing the harsh reality that Emily was truly gone. Yet, as he delved deeper into his thoughts, anger threatened to engulf him once more. The tormenting visions of Emily's suffering relentlessly replayed in his mind, intermingled with the faces of those responsible.
His imagination took hold, conjuring scenes of inflicting immeasurable pain upon them—unleashing a thousandfold suffering, envisioning their desperate screams and pleas for mercy or death, relishing in their agony. A twisted smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as a chilling detachment washed over him, tempering his fiery wrath.
"Just you wait," Lucifer hissed through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with venom. "Just you wait until the day I possess the strength."
For the next hour, he surrendered himself to a state of profound meditation, consciously suppressing the remnants of his anger while stoking the fiery embers of his all-consuming hatred.
Afterwards, he gradually stood up, brushed off his clothes, and began making his way towards the city.
To avoid getting lost in the forest, he relied on the towering mountain as a point of reference. The trees were enormous, and since he had ventured into an area devoid of people, there was no proper road, causing him to move at an agonizingly slow pace.
Lucifer gasped for air and muttered, "How can I already feel tired?"
"It hasn't even been 10 minutes," he murmured as he slowly settled down at the base of a tree.
His legs throbbed with pain, and his entire body was utterly exhausted.
"Could it be due to low skill energy?..... No, I don't think that's the case."
Since evolving into a Devil, this was his first time engaging in physical activity, as he had primarily relied on his ghost transformation skill in the past.
"System Status"
[Devil Transformation System]
[Identity : Name :- Lucifer; Race :- Devil]
[Cultivation : Stage :- Mortal Body; Exp :- 0/100]
[Stats :]
Skill Energy :- 50/1000
Soul Points :- 0
Lifespan :- 50 hrs
[Skills :]
1. Devil's Vision
2. Telekinesis [D]
3. Mirror Connection [D]
4. Illusion [D]
5. Ghost Transformation [C]
[Devil Exclusive Skills :]
1. Deal with the Devil
2. Devil's Subordinates
3. Devil Transformation
"Damn it! The skill energy won't last if I use the Ghost Transformation skill now," Lucifer cursed himself for allowing his skill energy to reach such a low level.
He had always been cautious about preventing his skill energy from depleting completely. However, due to his earlier emotional state, he had ignored it and ventured into this forested area without much consideration.
With no other choice but to trudge forward, he hauled himself up from the ground, coercing his wobbly legs into action. It was a pitiful sight, his feeble attempts to urge them forward, like marionettes controlled by an amateur puppeteer.
And then, amidst the stillness of the night, he heard it—a subtle rustling, the faintest whisper of leaves in the wind. Quick as lightning, he spun around, his gaze fixated on the source of the disturbance. But there was nothing to be seen, just an empty veil of night that mocked his apprehension.
Shaking off the unease, he forced himself to proceed, only to be greeted by a shocking revelation. The mountain, a towering behemoth that had stood proudly before him mere moments ago, had vanished into thin air. A chill shot down his spine, his mind recoiling from the impossible.
"How can it just disappear?" he muttered, his voice barely audible in the oppressive darkness. Even in the dead of night, the mountain's lights should have pierced through the blackness, defiant and unmistakable. Unless...
His thoughts trailed off as dread clawed at his insides. The darkness pressed in, suffocating, devouring the feeble moonlight that should have offered him solace. Desperation etched itself onto his face as he glanced upward, his eyes pleading for the pale glow that should have embraced him. But all he found was an abyss of darkness.
He halted his faltering steps, his senses on high alert, bracing for the worst. The silence that enveloped him was deafening, an absence of life that sent icy tendrils of fear down his spine. No buzzing insects, no whispering leaves. And where was the wind, that ever-faithful companion of the night?
His heart hammered in his chest, a wild rhythm of terror and uncertainty. A myriad of possibilities danced through his mind, each more haunting than the last. Had Leonard and the others followed him here, their presence concealed by the impenetrable dark? No, that couldn't be right. If they had, they would have attacked without hesitation, their dominance unchallenged.
Lucifer's eyes darted around, his gaze sweeping the impenetrable void, searching for any sign of life. But the darkness swallowed everything, mocking his futile efforts. His vision was limited to a mere glimpse, five meters of treacherous obscurity. Should he employ the power of his Devil's Vision? No, he couldn't afford to squander his waning skill energy.
"If something stirs, if a single hair on my neck stands on end, I'll use Ghost Transformation and flee," he resolved. This was because, even if he completely depleted his skill energy, he could always count on the assistance of Wrath or Victor to collect Soul Points, as long as he could reach the city.
But then, a breath—no more than a phantom's whisper—brushed against his nape, raising the fine hairs on his flesh, and leaving him teetering on the precipice of terror.
Acting on pure instinct, he lunged to activate his Ghost Transformation skill, his mind racing to outmaneuver the impending danger. But before the skill could take effect, he felt the unmistakable sensation of razor-sharp teeth encircling his neck, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
With lightning reflexes, Lucifer swiftly ducked forward, employing his telekinetic abilities to propel himself away from the lurking threat. Yet, he could not evade unscathed, for the teeth grazed his neck, tearing through his flesh, inflicting a searing pain that pulsed through his veins. By a hair's breadth, he narrowly escaped the full force of the assault.
But his reprieve was short-lived, as if Fate itself had conspired against him. In an unforgiving assault, a monstrous weight, around 200 kilograms of relentless force, crashed upon his back and neck, hurling him through the air, akin to a ragdoll caught in a tempest. His body collided with an unyielding tree trunk, the impact echoing through the night.
The mighty tree withstood the onslaught, steadfast and unbroken, while Lucifer, wracked with agony, felt his world spinning. Blood spewed from his nose and head, mingling with the darkness that surrounded him. The excruciating pain numbed his senses, rendering coherent thought an elusive phantom. But driven by an inexplicable surge of adrenaline, he mustered the strength to drag himself out of harm's way, barely eluding a second assault that pulverized the same tree trunk, shattering it into fragments as though it were made of brittle glass.
Gathering his wits amidst the chaos, Lucifer fixed his gaze upon his assailant, finally able to discern the form of a shadowy wolf-like creature. Its eyes gleamed with an unsettling hunger, a predator locked onto its defenseless prey, ready to strike with unrelenting savagery. The revelation sent a chill down his spine, for Lucifer knew that the true test of survival had only just begun.