The room, with its high ceiling and sturdy pillars, emitted an eerie atmosphere. Nothing was in the empty space, and the ambiance was dimly lit, relying solely on the candlelight placed at various points around an octagon symbol drawn on the floor. The octagon was decorated with ancient inscriptions.
Eight figures in black robes knelt at each corner of the octagon, with another figure in the center doing the same. Nine people repeated chants in a whisper, their hands clasped tightly together.
"Sas kaloúme, megálo Malron. Dioikitís tou laoú tou. O pio dynatós sto eídos tou. O megalýteros sto eídos tou."
What they were chanting was an invocation mantra for the supreme demon, the most powerful of their kind. A figure of an ancient demon, extremely evil and dark.
For hours, they performed this ritual, even from the days before.
Unfortunately, their cursed efforts seemed to be in vain.
This time, however, their cursed efforts proved otherwise.
The flame on the candles flickered subtly. The people intensified their repeated chants, reciting the words they had memorized:
"Sas kaloúme, megálo Malron. Dioikitís tou laoú tou. O pio dynatós sto eídos tou. O megalýteros sto eídos tou."
Suddenly, the glow of the candles ignited brightly, and shortly after, a strange event occurred. The fire shot up, its flames spreading out along the lines of the octagon. Then, it rolled into an empty circle before the sect leader.
Laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down the spines of the participants.
"Poios tolmá na me kalései?"
A deep, terrifying voice followed.
The demon rose and asked who had summoned him.
The fire in the empty circle swirled as if blown by a strong wind, revealing a figure as the flames dissipated. The figure was tall and muscular, with skin as hard as steel and dark in color. Two black horns protruded from the sides of the demon's bald head. He held a trident in his hand.
A blood-red glow filled his eyes as he gazed fiercely around. A grimace formed on his lips.
He was Malron the Great.
The demon was successfully summoned by the misguided cult for their dark purposes.
"Poios tolmá na me kalései?" he repeated.
He surveyed the eight people at the points of the octagon and the one kneeling before him. These people continued to bow down and recite the mantra, not daring to raise their heads.
"Miló!" said the demon.
The figure in the center whispered tremblingly, "Do you speak English, O' Malron the Great?"
"Why did you summon me in the ancient language, then?" The demon sighed. "Of course, I can!"
"O' Malron the Great, the commander of your kind..." The summoner suddenly coughed.
Malron's glowing eyes narrowed. "Are you ill? Why did you perform a summoning with a sick person?"
The demon seemed displeased with the less-than-perfect reception.
"N-no, O' Malron the Great," the summoner hastily corrected.
"Well then, what is it?" Malron asked.
"We welcome you to our world," the summoner said.
Malron didn't want to make small talk for too long. He opened his palm and extended it to the man kneeling before him. It was a procedure Malron knew well—the desire of a human to make a cursed pact with a demon.
"Your request?" Malron inquired.
The sect leader touched Malron's fingertips. He took a deep breath and said, "I..."
Blah, blah, blah..., the demon said in his thoughts.
According to the procedure, the summoner had to give his name, his lineage, the purpose of the summoning, and offer something tempting to the demon. The greater the demon's influence, the more enticing the guarantee had to be.
Malron listened and grinned maliciously.
"I will sacrifice my entire life to be your servant. Once the goal is achieved," the summoner concluded.
"To be my servant in the demon world forever... is that it? Can you handle it?" Malron asked.
The question was part of the process. The summoner may change its mind. Malron knew that humans were greedy, prone to breaking promises, and often inconsistent.
The summoner nodded. "I am willing."
"You have sworn an oath. According to this agreement, I will serve you until the final goal is achieved. If you break your oath, I will drag you to Hell with the eight witnesses here. Including 1,000 of your descendants who will become my slaves."
As proof of his agreement, the Master took a dagger from under his robe and immediately tore the skin off his left palm. The atmosphere became even more tense as Malron did the same, cutting at his palm with sharp claws.
In the next ritual, they would shake hands and unite their blood as partners.
Malron showed a victorious smile again. The demon knew full well that the human before him was a creature with a short and narrow life span. The Master didn't think about how his soul would become the slave of a demon for eternity. The agreement was not fair, but there was no fairness in the world, Malron thought.
"The deal is sealed," Malron hissed.
As their hands reached out to shake, a loud cracking sound echoed from the ceiling.
Malron raised his head cautiously, and suddenly...
In seconds, the ceiling collapsed, sending debris, asbestos, rocks, and tiles crashing down on the Master, who was about to make a deal with Malron.
Then, another human body slid down and landed in Malron's lap. The hands of Malron and the fallen youth were intertwined.
After a few seconds, fire swirled around Malron, then vanished.
[Greetings, The Damned One]
[You are in agreement to be part of the Demonic Curse System]
[Please fulfill your duties to the end]
[Hell always awaits you]
Malron blinked. Was that what he saw and heard, like a divine voice?
"What is that?" the irritated demon muttered.
Malron's attention shifted to the eight figures in black robes who were howling and running toward their buried Master—buried by the rubble. Their cries of 'Master! Master!' did not move Malron.
Malron had never expected the Master of the Black Sect to be so short-lived. But it didn't matter; the demon could quickly return to his world with another enslaved person.
"Okay, time to return to my world," Malron muttered.
[Denied. You must complete your duty, The Damned One]
"My duty?" Malron was immediately confused.
Malron had never experienced anything like this in the thousands of years since his resurrection. He looked at the youth still in his embrace. The demon was confused; how did the scrawny teenager end up on the roof? What was the insignificant boy doing there?
Disgusted, Malron dropped the kid from his lap, leaving him helpless on the ground.
And still unconscious.
The eight figures in dark robes stared intently at the fallen youth, whose hearts had grown darker. The blond, silver-haired youth, slightly different from the average appearance of a young man, lay there—handsome and beautiful.
"Kill him! Kill the boy!" one of the sect members shouted angrily.
[First Quest: Save Your Master's Life]
"Save my master?" Malron repeated.
Malron saw daggers drawn from under the robes of the eight running forward. They intended to finish off the boy. Obviously, these humans could not accept that their master, who had not yet become an influential figure, would die tragically. He lay defeated, his head scattered by the debris from the ceiling.
Malron's body seemed to be controlled by a greater force; his trident instantly emitted flames. Malron's body reacted without him being able to control it.
Malron protected the boy's body, then swung the trident at the figures, trying to kill the young man.
Sixteen hands, eighty fingers, fell to the ground.
Now, the robed ones let out a harmonious sound, cries of pain.
With one swing of his trident, Malron severed eight heads from their respective bodies.
And it was over.
Silence.
"Why did I do all this?" Malron wondered.
Malron's eyes stared intently at the helpless youth and saw a reddish light emanating from his palm. Reflexively, Malron looked down at his hand, emitting the same light. Then, the light faded and disappeared.
"Oh, shit!" Malron cursed.
[Kudos, The Damned One]
[First Curse Task Completed]
[Your Curse: Inhabit a Human Body]
Malron's mind was filled with questions he couldn't answer. Had he made the wrong deal?
For the first time, Malron felt his hands tremble. He looked down at his palms as they transformed into slender fingers.
Malron's demonic body was gradually changing into the body of a quarter-century-old human male. With black hair, tall, thin, with a sharp face, handsome, and a slender neck.
Malron groaned in anger. "Seriously?"