Talia pressed her forehead firmly to the ground, speaking with reverence, “Great and exalted evil one, I am willing to become your servant and minion, so that the world may forever be submerged in the depths of suffering.”

Carlo channeled the “Soul Contract” from memory. As the spell was cast, the Purgatory Seed in his chest trembled slightly, and Talia let out a muffled groan of pain. A complex crimson mark appeared on her forehead before quickly fading beneath her skin.

From that moment on, Talia’s soul was under Carlo’s control, her life and death subject entirely to his whim.

With the contract sealed, a system notification echoed in his mind.

“Plane Main Quest 1 complete. Reward: 100 experience points, 1000 evil points.”

Carlo felt a surge of satisfaction. He hadn’t expected such an easy task to reward him with a full 100 experience points and 1000 evil points. A truly profitable deal.

Then, the system chimed in again.

“Plane Main Quest 2 initiated.”

“The stench of sin has been detected in the mortal world. The Hounds of Heaven will follow the scent to hunt you down. Destroy them, and let the detestable holy light be extinguished forever in darkness. The Seven Lords shall commend your vile actions.”

"Destroy Heaven’s forces: Reward: 3000 experience points, 30,000 evil points.

Kill a Child of Grace: Reward: 1000 experience points, 10,000 evil points.

Corrupt a Child of Grace into the Abyss: Reward: 2000 experience points, 20,000 evil points."

A demonic tattoo slowly materialized on Carlo’s left arm, depicting a grinning demon's face. Carlo sensed that this mark functioned as a radar, allowing him to detect the proximity of any "Child of Grace." Whenever one drew near, the demon tattoo would react.

The generous rewards of the second quest made Carlo’s mouth water, though they also hinted at the danger involved.

Composing himself, Carlo thought, "Take it one step at a time."

“Master, where shall we go next?” Talia asked, her eyes gleaming with cruelty. “Shall we slaughter the remaining villagers?”

Carlo cast an approving glance at Talia.

This woman was utterly ruthless, her descent into the abyss complete. She was, indeed, promising material.

With a snap of his fingers, Carlo said casually, “We’ll deal with them later. First, get that disgusting stench of urine off you, then fetch me some clothes.”

Our lord Carlo was still stark naked, as there was nothing in the Abyss to clothe him.

A short while later, Talia returned to the barn, having washed and brought back a clean linen cloak for Carlo.

Carlo donned the cloak, its wide folds conveniently concealing his demonic form. He nodded with satisfaction, then frowned and said, “Talia, you still stink. If you weren’t my servant, I’d burn you to ash right now.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Talia, guilt written across her face, knelt at his feet. “Master, I apologize. I shall punish myself.”

With that, she began chanting an incantation, and a small green flame flickered into existence in her pale hand.

She pressed the flame to her face, and the fire sizzled as it burned her flesh. The acrid smell of scorched skin filled the air.

Disfiguring herself without uttering a sound, Talia endured the agony in silence. Only when her once-beautiful face had been charred beyond recognition did she finally stop, sweat pouring from her brow.

What horrors had this woman faced to make her seem more like a demon than even I? Carlo thought, intrigued. But instead of commenting on it, he asked her a more interesting question.

“Talia, what magic did you just use?”

“Master, it was from the Grimoire of Calabos.” Talia pulled a thin notebook from her robes and handed it to Carlo.

Carlo casually took the book and flipped through it. Though called a grimoire, it was more like a witch’s journal, filled with various cruel and dark spells.

The spells were decent enough, but the casting process was absurdly complex, requiring lengthy incantations and rare alchemical ingredients. For an ordinary person, it might have been a treasure trove, but for Carlo, it was hardly worth his time.

He smirked when he reached the final page, which detailed the summoning ritual Talia had used to call him forth. Amused, he asked, “Who is this Calabos, anyway?”

“The most evil and powerful witch in the world,” Talia replied, her face showing a mixture of reverence and fanaticism. But catching Carlo’s mocking gaze, she quickly lowered her head. “Though, of course, she is nothing compared to you, Master.”

“She once cursed an entire kingdom into a year-long slumber and killed a powerful knight of the Church. Everyone hated her, cursed her, and feared her. Her spellbook has circulated across the continent for a hundred years. Every witch who has obtained it gained immense power and became the Church's greatest enemy. I came across these few pages by pure luck.”

Carlo chuckled, offering no comment, and with a flick of his fingers, summoned a flame that turned the notebook to ash.

“Talia, forget about Calabos,” Carlo said, looking down at her. “I will bestow upon you the power of the Abyss.”

Talia’s face lit up with joy, and she spoke excitedly, “Thank you, Master!”

Carlo placed a finger on Talia’s forehead, and through the soul contract, transferred a selection of spells and meditation techniques to her—ones he had carefully chosen from "Basic Demon Magic."

Talia trembled with excitement, kissing the top of Carlo’s foot with reverence.

"Now, we have more important matters to attend to," Carlo said with a wicked grin, his gaze drifting toward the horizon beyond the barn.

To him, every mortal in this world was merely walking experience points and evil points. Individually small, perhaps, but enough of them would add up in time.

All he had to do was keep killing, and he would level up eventually.

...

"Baron, please, have mercy on us! It was all that whore Talia's doing..." The remaining villagers knelt at the entrance to the village, surrounded by seven or eight imposing knights and several dozen fully armed guards.

The baron, fat and pig-like, sat in his carriage, fiddling with his signet ring as he asked, "Where’s Basse? Tell him to come see me."

The trembling villager responded, “The village chief took the men to capture Talia at the barn. I can take you there, my lord.”

Satisfied, the baron waved a dismissive hand. “In that case, you lot are useless. Rot, kill them all... except for the father of that witch who killed my son. He doesn’t deserve a quick death.”

"Yes, my lord," the lead knight, encased in thick armor, nodded coldly and raised his lance.

The other guards lifted their weapons in unison.

The villagers' faces contorted in terror, and they desperately begged for mercy. “Please, Baron, spare us! We had nothing to do with it…”

Their pleas were swiftly drowned out by screams of agony as the clash of blades and the splatter of blood filled the small village with the grim symphony of death.

A maniacal gleam flickered in the baron’s eyes as he raged internally. This was only the beginning. Everyone would pay for his son's death.