Still in the darkness of the grimoire, Devon wandered with the hope of finding a way out of this lonely place.
'Dammnit! Does this chick intend to keep me here forever?'
He screamed at the top of his lungs, frustrated to the point of going crazy.
--STATS--
[Host: Devon Cradle (Lvl 02).]
[Lifespan: --.]
[Race: Undead skeleton]
[Classe: none.]
[Spiritual energy: 55->56.]
[Body strength: 20->21.]
[Combat power: 75->77.]
[Xps: 70%] - [EP: 1]
--
To spend his remaining points wisely, Devon had no choice but to trade four of the five evolution points for two stat points that he then divided equally between his body strength and spiritual energy.
'There is a gap between my two base stats, but without having experienced a real battle, I can't tell if it's a good idea to focus on my body strength.'
He mumbled, looking at the figures in front of his body strength with an injunctive look. 'How pathetic.' He couldn't help but belittle himself as he looked at those numbers.
'If I were in a game, I would choose to balance my stats. But here, I'm gambling with my life; I can't experiment lightly until I fully know what useful the body strength is.'
In this dimension, his lifespan and stats were frozen in time.
This advantage allowed him to better exercise his skills without running out of spiritual energy.
However, by doing the same thing, anyone would end up in his state…become bored.
'...When the chance presents itself, I will confiscate her grimoire.'
Right after he said those words, a portal appeared out of nowhere in front of him.
As the last time, Devon couldn't do anything while he was getting sucked in by it.
--
If the miniature dimensions of grimoires are the personification of the hearts of their owners, guardians beasts are the incarnations of the very essence of the souls of these same owners—that's why some people call them soul beasts or spirit beasts
It is neither strange nor rare for a tamer to awaken a guardian beast.
And even if it is rare for a spirit beast to have a humanoid form, it is not necessarily synonymous with power though.
However, there is something new with Mystic's case.
This difference that is starting to make Pettriddas dizzy is the fact that she showed her guardian beast while her grimoire is of a copper rank.
For a tamer to awaken its guardian beast, his level must reach the first order which comes after level ten, and its grimoire must reach the silver tier.
If this level is so important for any contractor, it is because of two advantages they receive after having transcended the domain of a simple contractor.
One of the big advantages is especially the awakening of a guardian beast and the evolution of the rank of the grimoire which goes from copper to iron.
Each level crossed brings with it its share of rewards.
Even with these conditions fulfilled, not everyone is lucky enough to awaken a spiritual beast.
While the patriarch racked his brains to understand the cause of this phenomenon never observed before, Devon also faced his share of problems.
He, who planned to confiscate Mystic's grimoire right after its release, found himself stricken by something more serious which forced him to put aside his initial intentions.
Seeing Mystic seriously injured, her body stained with blood, a rage of unknown nature manifested itself deep in his soul.
'Who!? Who did that!???
Never before, he would believe he could feel so much hatred because of a person he had only just met.
His pupils, now a sea of blood, scanned the surroundings of Mystic before halting on the patriarch.
'Is it him? Is it that guy!?'
Without expecting any explanation or order from his master like any mere beast, he leaped towards the patriarch and activated his skill before landing!
"...Huh?"
The patriarch nonchalantly looked up at Devon who now had a very well-formed black longsword in his hand.
Mystic's face lost what little color it had when she saw her guardian beast's reckless actions.
Although was amazed by this new skill, she didn't have the luxury of rejoicing over it though.
"You fool! Stop right now!" She screamed like a madwoman as her mind was overwhelmed by fear of her beast's life.
This order, Devon naturally ignored.
In his mind, this man had to pay.
Not just to avenge Mystic, but also himself!
Mystic's death which also meant his end, made her enemies his own.
As for the patriarch, realizing the obvious intentions of this weak skeleton,
"Kheh!"
He grinned back at him, with his eye sockets dark and hollow.
It was fun, so much fun for him that he couldn't help but snicker.
But his eyes somehow seemed to hide something dangerous—even if he was smiling, his eyes weren't.
However, Devon didn't back down, what did he have to fear after all?
But that confidence soon turned into frustration when his attack collided with his target's neck.
-Crack!
His sword shattered into small black shards that scattered as if nothing had happened.
And because of the force he had put into his attack, three of his five phalanges also shattered like shards.
'-! What is this... monster!?'
In the same second, his target's hand grabbed his cervical vertebra without him being able to see even a small detail of its movements.
Just like him, Pettriddas has a vague expression.
'What was that attack? A spiritual attack?' He wonders as he looks at Devon with curious eyes instead of anger.
Although he is not injured, his nerves are numb from the violent blow.
'Fascinating.'
His heart burned with excitement as he gave a deadly glare to Devon who was about to use his skill once again.
"Please accept my apologies, he..."
"Humph!" Before Mystic could even finish begging his father, the latter released his hold on Devon and pushed him slightly.
Even though he had only used a fragment of his power, Devon could do nothing to jostle Mystic.
"Guardian beasts are usually obedient, if he is so stubborn, it would mean that he has potential, despite his weak appearance."
It was his way of complimenting his daughter.
"I thank you for your leniency, clan leader."
Mystic stands up after Devon who is still looking at Pettriddas with his eyes filled with hostility.
"Mhm, whatever." He snorted.
After these exchanges between the two, Devon began to doubt his previous judgment.
However, he did not forget what he had just experienced.
'This guy, so he's the patriarch? How strong can he be?'
-Stats-
[Human mutated (ninth order)]
[Lifespan: 214/520years]
[Combat power: 8.3 million.]
...
His eyes widen as he sees some of the monster's information before his eyes.
'E...Eight million three hundred miles!? That must be a joke!'
He was out of words and ideas as he looked at the patriarch.
His eyes which stared at the patriarch said to his system; 'I hope you're kidding. You're kidding, right? Please tell me you are kidding!'
[Your level is too low for Appraisal Eyes to fully work on strong fellow.]
This announcement from his system made him feel more dizzy than he had before.
Meanwhile, Mystic was reporting on what she had experienced on the way back.
The patriarch had now returned behind his desk and listened to Mystic's report without frowning.
Devon was also listening to Mystic's words in silence, without trying anything this time.
He could glean additional information that Mystic had not said when they were still in the forest.
After a while, the time it took for Mystic to finish her report, a moment of silence reigned in the office.
The patriarch's expression was different from the one he had at the beginning, he looked puzzled now after hearing Mystic's report.
In Mystic's reporting, he and Devon learned that she and her bodyguard were attacked by robbers.
But, something's wrong there.
No bandit group is foolish enough to stand in the way of a direct member of this clan, much less a direct descendant.
In that regard, these people were probably assassins disguised as bandits.
Assassins working on behalf of someone else.
In the entire world, only four factions dare to act recklessly and openly against them.
The Holylight Clan, The Three-Eyed Faction, the Royal Family, and finally... a certain dark organization whose base localization or members no one knows.
But thanks to Mystic's very special status, none of these factions waste their time trying to kill such a pathetic failure who has no talent.
'...Sigh, I didn't know they'd go this far in their internal squabbling.'
To put it bluntly, the only ones who can act this fast are those who know Mystic's trip itinerary—their clansmen.
After he comes up with this conclusion,
The patriarch sighs once more and presses a little button he has under the table.
Then he leans back in his chair while waiting for the person he just called.
And, before long, just a few seconds later, someone knocks softly on the door and walks in:
"Esteemed clan leader, Pettriddas," The fellow spoke in a neutral tone that held a lot of respect.
Pettriddas looked at the man who just walked in: he looked 27 years old with golden hair and golden eyes, standing at 190 cm tall he was wearing a black butler's suit and a monocle
Unlike the Patriarch and his descendants, he is completely human.
The Patriarch did not immediately address his attendant, instead, he ordered Mystic to go rest to recover from her fatigue.
Then once alone with his attendant, he looks at him with fierce eyes. "Leonidas, what do you think of all this?"
Leonidas Cer Shadow, Pettriddas Ber Forett Shaodw's personal butler, despite his youth.
He is one of the very few members of the clan in a high position without sharing the patriarch's blood.
His talent and skills cannot be underestimated.
"Well...
He puts his monocle back before continuing.
"In my opinion, the young descendants seem to have begun their bloody battles for succession, as your sons a century ago."
'As expected, this boy is still as impressive as ever.'
Pettriddas inwardly praises his insight to quickly understand the situation.
'That's what I thought. My grandchildren seem to be following the same path as their fathers.'
Fifty years ago, rumors were circulating within the clan.
Rumors that the patriarch was going to choose his heir.
At the time, his sons, whose number exceeded the fingers of four people combined, had started a kind of bloody competition.
Among forty-five children, only ten had survived in this succession battle.
This event was named by the patriarch, the great cleaning.
Many had criticized the bloody and barbaric method of the patriarch at that time, but yet, he had done nothing to stop them or rectify these lying amalgams.
Instead of a tragedy, the patriarch saw this butchery as an opportunity to strengthen his sons.
Cruel and vicious, such is the butcher who leads this prestigious clan.
Subsequently, after ten years, the facts proved him right.
His sons who survived, came out stronger and more merciless.
"I see." The patriarch replies nonchalantly.
Leonidas' eyebrows twitch after hearing this answer.
"Esteemed clan leader, am I to assume that you plan to leave this as it is?"
From Pettriddas' expression, that's all Leonidas could think.
"Kekek, no, of course not."
Hearing his answer, Leonidas exhales in relief.
But,
"You are now tasked with pouring oil on the powder."
At these words from the patriarch, Leonidas' eyes tremble in exclamation.
"You...you want me to do what!?"
"...That does not fit you, this kind of expression," Pettriddas said these words with dissatisfaction in his eyes.