The Damned Demon

Days had passed since Skully first spoke of the deeper potential hidden within her bloodline.

Days of relentless struggle, ceaseless meditation, and suffering that had pushed her limits further than she'd ever imagined.

In front of her, standing silently in the oppressive stillness, Skully observed patiently while Valeria observed Asher's deep meditative form.

Yet Skully's presence alone gave Rebecca an odd sense of steadiness—though he never gave her easy answers, he guided her forward steadily.

Within the past few days, she felt as if she had gained a deeper understanding of her bloodline…things that she couldn't even dream of learning from her own House.

And this made her even more curious about Skully's origins and how he had such a deep and profound understanding of demonic bloodlines.

"Again," Skully's voice broke through her silent reflection, cold yet oddly reassuring, "Feel your blood. The pulse, the coldness, the stillness hidden beneath."

Rebecca clenched her teeth, nodding faintly. Her eyes squeezed shut tighter, focusing inward with painful intensity. She felt every heartbeat, slow yet powerful, resonating deeply within. Her blood, she discovered, felt neither warm nor comforting. Instead, it felt cold, distant, almost hostile.

"Tell me," Skully asked quietly, observing carefully. "What does your blood say to you?"

Rebecca exhaled slowly, frustration creeping into her voice. "I don't understand. The more I feel I am getting closer to learning more, the more it feels cold—painfully cold. It doesn't respond. It only hurts."

Skully offered no pity, no soft encouragement. Instead, he merely nodded. "That pain is the gateway. Do not shy away from it. Embrace it fully. Understand its origin."

She grimaced, bracing herself again. Hours blended into days, as she repeatedly pushed her limits, her blood freezing, then burning painfully, never fully bending to her will.

She felt trapped in a cruel, endless loop, her body and mind battered relentlessly by failure and exhaustion.

Yet, each time she faltered, Skully patiently steered her back again to that invisible threshold.

By the fourth day, Rebecca was on her knees, skin pale and clammy, sweat dripping from her face and silver hair. Her breathing labored heavily, and yet still she refused to stop. Skully's unwavering patience had pushed her stubborn pride to new heights.

"This...is impossible," she growled bitterly, eyes flickering with frustration and tears of sheer exhaustion. "Maybe this 'enlightenment' you speak of might not even exist. Are you sure you are not wasting my time?"

It might have only been days, but to her, it felt like she had been stuck struggling for decades.

Skully's voice was flat, unyielding, devoid of sympathy but filled with a subtle, relentless wisdom. "If enlightenment were easy, everyone would attain it. This barrier is the last resistance your bloodline can offer before yielding its true power. If you truly think it's impossible, then it would also be impossible for you to be of any use to him."

Rebecca's gaze snapped toward Skully, her teeth clenched in frustration and anxiety, as she knew he was talking about Asher.

Even this undead bastard was implying the fact that Asher might not want her if she can't be of use to him. And that was enough to ignite something fiercely stubborn within her chest. "No!" she rasped breathlessly. "Even if it might be impossible, I will make it possible!"

She staggered back upright, limbs trembling, eyes filled with burning resolve. Once more, she plunged inward, seeking not to dominate her bloodline but instead to understand it.

The thought of Asher looking down at her with contempt sharepened the blade of determination within her.

Suddenly, in the midst of agonizing coldness and resolve, she felt something new.

Something previously overlooked—a quiet yet steady pulse, a rhythm beneath the frozen surface, gentle yet undeniable.

Rebecca inhaled sharply, eyes widening in shock and awe. The rhythm wasn't separate from her—it was her. The ice wasn't fighting her; it was calling out, waiting to become part of her.

Understanding surged through Rebecca's mind with a clarity she had never experienced before.

Her blood wasn't merely a source of raw power—it was a conduit between life and death itself. Her ice wasn't just a weapon or a shield; it was a bridge, freezing the line between existence and oblivion.

She inhaled sharply, eyes widening as the realization crystallized within her.

Skully's empty sockets flared briefly with dark-green magma, his voice calm yet strangely approving. "You begin to see now. Life and death, blood and ice—all intertwined. Your bloodline isn't merely powerful; it's a gateway."

Rebecca's heartbeat quickened with anticipation, her eyes glistening in the eerie glow of the cavern.

Slowly, she raised her trembling hand, feeling the deep resonance between her heartbeats and something beyond—something cold, ancient, waiting patiently just past the veil of mortality.

She focused intently, drawing deep from within herself. Her blood slowed, her heartbeats grew heavier, each beat echoing profoundly within her chest.

Gradually, a chilling sensation spread throughout her veins, merging with the power of her death magic. Her blood froze gently, but unlike before, it wasn't merely cold—it radiated a profound stillness, a silent, serene connection to something beyond life.

Suddenly, the air around her darkened, shadows seeping forth from the frozen crystals that now formed delicately upon her fingertips. Ice, blood, and shadows swirled gracefully into a mesmerizing, pulsating orb of scarlet-black frost hovering gently above her palm.

"That's it," she breathed softly, voice thick with awe and triumph. "It's always been waiting…a power trapped between life and death itself."

Skully nodded slowly, his tone emotionless yet firm. "Precisely. You've touched upon the very essence of your bloodline's greatest secret: the power to freeze every wisp of lifeforce in someone."

Rebecca exhaled slowly, her gaze fixed intensely on the orb of blood-dark frost before her. A profound sense of power surged through her veins, thrilling yet chilling, "This power...It was used by my ancestors?"

Skully's voice broke through the silent awe calmly. "Indeed. Through your blood, ice, and death magic, you can trap your enemies in a prison between life and death. Your earliest ancestors were one of the direct descendants of the First Demons. They had cultivated the power to trap their enemies in ice while siphoning their lifeforce and strength, which in turn will strengthen you."

Rebecca clenched her fist gently, dispersing the orb into delicate crystals that floated softly around her before melting away. But deep within, she felt it now—a profound, icy resonance that tied her inexorably to the lifeforce of those around her.

She finally understood her true power. And it was beautiful—and terrifying.

She finally achieved something that her House and forefathers of so many generations couldn't.

If only her so-called parents and brother were alive, she could have shown them who was truly weak and pathetic. Even with all their brutal and ruthless techniques to make themselves superior to the rest, they still couldn't tap into their bloodline's true potential.

She lifted her chin slightly, meeting Skully's impassive stare with a new found respect and gratitude, "I couldn't have discovered this without your guidance. I wouldn't have known this power was hiding within me all this time."

Skully inclined his skull slightly, acknowledging her words without emotion. "Every true power must be earned. Guidance alone cannot grant enlightenment. It requires the strength of will, unrelenting perseverance, and the courage to confront one's own deepest limitations."

She breathed out, a steady exhale filled with newfound confidence, "This is just the start. There's still more hidden within me, isn't there?"

"Indeed," Skully affirmed quietly, turning slightly away. "This enlightenment is but the first step on your path. But you are still shackled by the mortality of your bloodline and wouldn't be able to catch up to him as fast as you think you can. Yet if you continue this path and if you manage to live long enough, then one day you might achieve what you wish and perhaps even freeze souls."

Rebecca's jaw slacked in awe and pride, realizing she had such monstrous potential.

Her eyes then drifted briefly toward Asher, still locked within his own deep meditation, strength radiating from him endlessly.

Yet for the first time, she felt no envy—only admiration and profound satisfaction at having found her own unique path.

She was now confident that if she could continue using her will and persevere to grow stronger, then she wouldn't drag him down.

Rebecca nodded firmly, her eyes filled with determination. "Then I'll continue walking this path, no matter how painful or impossible it might seem."

Skully turned around and silently walked away as if his part in helping her was done for now.

However, Rebecca couldn't help but stare at Skully's back, wondering who he really was. He couldn't have been a simple citizen of his civilization.

But she knew she wouldn't get answers to her burning questions. Despite respecting his nightmarish power and boundless knowledge, she can't help but still be skeptical about his true motivations and intentions.

She remembered Skully telling Asher how he needed to be useful to him…

But he never mentioned why and how.

She didn't know why, but looking at Asher, she was feeling an unnerving anxiety in her heart, thinking about what the future held.

—

Asher exhaled slowly, his breath condensing into misty vapor within the ancient hall. The Tome of Fallen Souls rested upon his lap, its leather-bound cover pulsing gently as though sensing his intent.

After weeks spent sharpening his strength and breaking through barriers he'd never imagined, he finally felt ready to confront the final, elusive power lurking within its forbidden pages.

With his eyes still closed, he traced a finger slowly over the rough, weathered edges of the tome, steeling himself for whatever hell awaited him.

Memories flashed vividly through his mind—Girgal's merciless speed, Ghoroq's monstrous flames, the brutal, relentless trials he'd barely survived to claim their strength.

Each encounter had carved away parts of him, rebuilding him into something stronger, darker, and infinitely more dangerous.

Yet this final trial filled him with skepticism rather than fear. He remembered facing a similar spirit within the Chamber of Hell—nothing more than a gelatinous slime, seemingly weak and easily defeated with just a blow from him. Asher couldn't help but feel silly about even facing that spirit.

What secrets could a slime possibly hold?... he thought to himself. But he felt there had to be some important reason why it was the final spirit in the tome and remained inaccessible to him until he was this strong.

He took a deep breath, confusion, and curiosity sharpening his resolve.

Doubt or not, he'd come too far now to turn away. His finger pressed decisively upon the final symbol etched into the ancient pages.

Instantly, darkness surged around him, swallowing his senses completely.

Reality shattered into shards of shadow, spiraling wildly before reforming into a place that defied rationality. Asher stood upon cracked earth, a desolate landscape stretching endlessly beneath a pitch-black sky streaked with crimson lightning. Jagged black rocks rose like skeletal remains from pools of bubbling magma, casting strange, twisted reflections.

Yet something about this hellish place felt different—subtler, deeper, infinitely more sinister.

The air was heavy with an oppressive silence, pregnant with anticipation.

A subtle ripple passed through the ground, accompanied by a low, resonant hum. He spun around swiftly, his muscles tense, expecting an enormous, fearsome creature to erupt from the earth.

Instead, something completely unexpected occurred.

A slender pillar of magma shot upward, twisting gracefully as it shaped itself. Asher stepped back cautiously, bewildered, his hand instinctively flexed to summon his ring blade.

The molten fluid solidified rapidly into the form of a young girl, her body composed entirely of blazing, orange-reddish flames that danced and flickered hypnotically.

Four glowing scarlet eyes, vivid and piercing, opened slowly, locking onto him with a gaze that seemed ancient yet strangely innocent.

She floated gently above the scorched earth, suspended as though weightless, the flames that formed her slender frame swirling fluidly like living silk.

Asher stared in stunned silence, his jaw slack, eyes widening with disbelief.

"This…is the slime?" he whispered incredulously, confusion and intrigue warring in his voice. He'd faced towering monstrosities, horrifying abominations of chaos and violence. But this? This delicate, mesmerizing form radiated an incomprehensible power far beyond anything he'd sensed before.

The girl tilted her fiery head curiously, scarlet eyes blinking slowly, yet Asher could feel the overwhelming intensity behind her innocent demeanor.

"Welcome," her voice echoed softly, layered with eerie calmness and subtle menace, "I've been waiting for you, my prince."

"You..."