A buzzing excitement filled the air as the ten disciples from Green One landed on the wide stone platform. All around them surged a throng of fellow sect members, chattering and gathering into teams. Upon seeing Brune, Karo, and the other core disciples, many of the lower-ranked disciples flocked toward them with hopeful eyes.
"Hey, Brune!" a few called out, scrambling closer. "Come with us—if you lead, we'll earn so many rewards!"
"Yes, Karo! Team up with us!"
Among the group, Brune—brimming with confidence—soaked up the attention. "Ha! Of course! Follow me, and we'll crush those demons!"
Nearby, Karo and other core disciples linked up with their own bands of trusted allies. Everyone was abuzz with the thrill of venturing into the demon realm.
Standing a short distance away, Ris offered neither smile nor scowl, her expression cool and unreadable. Even so, she exuded a calm authority that others gravitated to—especially female disciples, who mustered the courage to approach her.
"Lady Ris," one of them ventured, "would you consider teaming with us?"
Ris merely shook her head. "I prefer to travel alone." Her voice was cold and final. She was sometimes called the Indifferent Angel, a moniker that spread as much awe as intimidation.
Somewhere on the platform, a stir passed through the gathered disciples when Celis, the strongest core disciple of them all, approached a shimmering tear in space at the center of the stone floor. He was flanked by five formidable companions, each radiating a menacing aura.
"That must be the gateway to Zulmasharr," Celis remarked, studying the swirling rift. "We're heading in first. Good luck." His words were quick; before anyone could respond, he and his group vanished into the tear, swallowed by its shifting lights.
After Celis, Brune led a contingent of enthusiastic disciples, then Karo, then group after group—until the stone platform emptied, save for a small number still lingering. Ris was the last of the Green One core disciples to step forward, and as she neared the portal, a handful of girls hovered around her, hoping she'd join them.
Unmoved, she stepped through. A moment later, they followed with slight hesitation.
Instantly, darkness pressed in from every side, a blind haze that felt stifling and cold. But unlike the unprepared slave that once dropped into this world, these were trained cultivators; they relied on their orbs to adjust their vision. In the span of a few breaths, they could make out faint outlines, the horizon still cloaked in dim red hues.
"Ugh," one disciple muttered, rubbing her eyes, "this place is so dark."
"It's supposed to be a safe zone—if there's such a thing in Zulmasharr," Karo said dryly. "Probably Skinless Mountain, if I recall."
"What a disturbing name," someone whispered.
"Zulmasharr is nothing if not disturbing," Brune interjected with a smirk. "But I've memorized part of the map. We're basically in the middle of a few minor regions. North leads to the Crater of Relish, full of Thorak demons around Rank Three. South and East are other safe zones, and West will bring you to a moderate-threat region called the Eyes of Dripping Blood, where a Rank Five Gralith presides, along with an army of Zorath demons at Rank Four."
Many of the disciples exchanged grateful looks. "That's extremely helpful, Brune!"
Brune puffed up with pride at their praise. In truth, human cultivators often faced difficulty matching demons of equivalent rank; understanding the local demon hierarchy was vital to survival. Within minutes, most of the disciples scattered in different directions:
A large cluster, including lower-ranked members, headed north toward the Crater of Relish. Many of the formidable core disciples set off westward, keen on challenging the Eyes of Dripping Blood. A handful drifted around, debating where to venture next.
Ris alone remained, allowing the others to pass. She would rather wait until the crowds dispersed. Only once the platform cleared did she move, turning south almost as an afterthought. If anyone noticed her choice, they didn't stop her. Her demeanor suggested she had her own plan.
Her destination was the Land of the Mother, a rumored haven for low-tier demon species—a realm of Nulith and lesser Vashra or Morruk fiends. Among the safe zones on the map, it felt like the least interesting to many. But Ris was drawn by a specific curiosity: the Barren Canyon, a place brushed off by the Sect's elders as utterly useless.
Why is it marked as a blank spot? she wondered. An empty place no one bothers with? That might be precisely where a newborn heir could hide…
She recalled the lessons hammered into her early training: If the Heir of Zulmasharr existed, they'd be accompanied by a distinctive aura and crowned in black flames. Surely such a being would draw attention if found in any populated area. But if the Barren Canyon was truly barren, then perhaps that was how the heir had gone unnoticed.
Ris shrugged off the thought of saving hostages—it was someone else's priority, not hers. There was too much to see in Zulmasharr, and something about that white patch on the ancient map tugged at her sense of intrigue.
"Why call it barren, when it's part of a demon realm?" she murmured. Indifferent to the question of practicality, she set her eyes on the path southward. "I'll check for myself."
With effortless grace, she blurred into motion, racing toward the Land of the Mother. Darkness enveloped her, and not a trace of emotion flickered on her face as she vanished, guided by a hunch that the Barren Canyon might hold more secrets than anyone guessed.
————————————————————————
Yur strolled through the fortress corridor, dragging the dismembered leg of one of the bear-like Vashra demons behind him. Every so often, he tore off a chunk of flesh with his fangs and chewed it thoughtfully, his crimson eyes revealing no spark of emotion.
"So this is how Vashra flesh tastes," he remarked, swallowing. "Not bad. Still…nothing beats the flavor of Imps." He thought back on the juicy, savory quality that Imps had, recalling them as his favorite meal so far.
Around him, small Retch's toiled away, ferrying heavy blocks and stacking stones. Their hoarse grunts and rattling tube-like mouths gave the fortress an eerie industrious hum.
"They can act as builders, too?" Yur mused quietly, pondering how he might employ similar demons once he established a more permanent base.
He traversed the halls at a measured pace; each turn brought him face to face with yet another Vashra demon, but they simply dropped to their knees under the command of his Shepherd of Demons title. He let them live, figuring that he might need their sacrifices later or possibly gather them into an army. His boredom, however, only deepened. None of them can offer any decent fight now, he thought.
[Morruk Demons beyond the door!]
A notification from Zul caught his attention as he approached a large set of double doors, which he pushed open without effort. A strong, cloying scent greeted him—a mixture of pungent incense and blood. He stepped into a spacious hall, dimly lit by ghastly candles dripping dark wax. Bones adorned the walls, and small, wailing Nulith demons darted about, some in clear agony, others performing menial tasks.
A dozen or so higher-ranked demons occupied the chamber—Vashra and Morruk among them. They bristled at Yur's entrance but, in an instant, his aura crushed their defiance.
"Kneel," he commanded in his low, detached voice.
And they did. Morruk and Vashra alike buckled to the ground, eyes wide in alarm. Even as they struggled, they were powerless. Slowly, Yur ascended a crude throne on the opposite side of the hall—a makeshift seat crafted from fused bone and stone. He settled onto it, draping one taloned hand over the armrest.
A window materialized before him:
[Quest Complete!]
[Take Over the Demon Fortress!]
[Reward: 1000 Demon Points!]
[Demon Points Remaining: 1043]
Leaning his head against his knuckles, he surveyed the chamber's trembling demons with a look of utter disinterest. Once, I'd be ecstatic at the sight of an entire fortress bowing to me… he noted with vague detachment. Now he merely felt emptiness.
If I can't find a foe worthy of challenging me… he thought, this newfound power is pointless.
He turned to the system's floating prompt. "Zul, since these Morruks also submit to me, it's pretty clear I won't get any decent battle experience out of them. Any suggestions on how I can put them to use?"
[Host can now purchase advanced rituals from the Zulmasharr Store!]
[Applying recommended filters…]
Three options blinked to life. He scanned the descriptions:
|——————————————————————|
Ritual of Demon Mangling
Destroys the bodies of lesser demons,
fusing them to create a single, more powerful demon.
Ritual of Black Flames
Burns away the blood of enslaved demons,
leaving them 'bloodless' and difficult to kill
but diminishing their overall strength.
Ritual of Lust
Stimulates uncontrollable lust in demons or humans,
driving them to madness or chaos within the ritual's area.
|——————————————————————|
The third one, Ritual of Lust, made his lip curl in distaste. He had no desire to witness a horde of hideous demons in a frenzy of carnal desire. Ritual of Black Flames and Ritual of Demon Mangling were more practical. One created an almost undead-like army, the other formed a smaller number of more potent demons.
"Zul," he asked, "which one do you think is better?"
[Compilation of pros/cons…]
|——————————————————————|
Ritual of Demon Mangling
Benefit: Produces fewer, but stronger demon minions.
Downside: Reduces your total demon count.
Ritual of Black Flames
Benefit: Larger army of nearly unkillable demons.
Downside: They permanently lose much of their original strength.
|——————————————————————|
He weighed the options a moment, drumming clawed fingers on the throne's arm. A small but formidable force might be more useful than a shambling legion of weaker fiends, he reasoned.
With a final nod, he made his choice:
[Purchased: Ritual of Demon Mangling!]
The screen vanished, and a sinister thrill coursed through him—perhaps the only flicker of excitement he'd felt since his ascension. The subdued demons knelt in absolute silence, awaiting their master's orders.
Time to see how many of you I can fuse into something truly worth battling.