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Demon of the Fold
Evolution Ceremony

Evolution Ceremony

I almost wish I could talk so I can complain about not being there yet... not that I know where we are going.

It would be alright if I could maintain a steady train of thought, but the cool feeling of this lantern's light washing over me in waves isn't exactly comfortable.

It was incessant and rhythmic, like the ticking of a clock at night; however, there was a terrible quality to its sound: grainy and rough; it was like sand being firmly massaged into my skin, and my irritation was only corroborated by the demon's constant clacking feet against the ground.

For me, my silent walking has all but been mastered thanks to the stealth skill, which is nice, but I'm more distracted with the sensation that the exp stone, or whatever it was called, had given me...

I found myself looking at my hands and rubbing my finger and thumb together as if trying to recreate that tactile sensation.

It... was almost like being back in that cave, with the vortex of energy; yet I felt a little... dissociative this time, except my mind was being pulled inwards rather than out, which is how it felt when I had first been born.

Each seems to be related to the soul in some way, and those symbols, or runes, definitely tie into that somehow.

I can't quite pinpoint that feeling.

Before, the sanctuary did half the work, tying it down to two opposing emotions, but it couldn't be that easy now; the only thing I can try is to recreate that room within my mind and jump between those abstract states of thought.

Hah, that just sounds ludicrous—maybe it's supposed to be.

It felt nigh impossible to describe to myself, but doing so made me feel like I was tying it down to reality.

Perhaps... I would understand it better if not for this perpetual light.

Hm...

Or maybe I can use the rhythm somehow?

The synesthesic title might just push me forward once again... It's nice knowing my naturally born talent is so useful, hehe.

Well, hopefully.

But before I could attempt anything, the demoness suddenly stopped.

Looking up, we had actually gone outside while I was locked in my mind.

Wait... It's that door, but it's open now.

The lights inside were dim and gave off the warm, reddish glow of a winter sunrise.

The hall opened wide, but the room retained its sense of solitude, both through its light and through the considerably raised platforms, which began much farther above me and descended like stairs—or the seats of a miniature stadium.

I hadn't noticed it before, but the demoness had pulled a black veil over her face.

How perplexing.

To my surprise, she turned to me and took a fairly large piece of black cloth out from under her arm and gently placed the lantern on the ground.

Incidentally, the cloth had been grabbed from the same room as before, though I had not paid it much mind at the time.

Standing still, she quickly placed it over me, my head popping through an aptly sized hole.

She looked quite relieved that I had not fought back, and, in truth, I found myself too interested in this event to play any games here.

The dress felt strange to me, like a waterfall had covered my scales but had frozen in time not a second later. It was a silk-smooth fluidic sensation that lacked any flow of actual water, yet I quickly grew to like the feeling as we began moving inside.

To my surprise, the dusky yet ethereal ambient light quickly coated the fabric and revealed many tiny dancing patterns to me. It was like iron sand being pulled any which way by carefully placed magnets, revealing a beautiful and endlessly varying symbology within the outer layers of the fabric.

If I looked closer, it seemed to be more of an illusion than anything else—different parts of the dress would sway as I moved, and so different inflections in the fabric would perfectly catch the light.

It's mesmerizing.

This is the first time I've felt this way.

For the most part, I had disregarded these people. I had seen some of their artistry—their stylistic choices that told of a rich history—but right now, I could feel it.

Just how long must it have taken to perfect a ritual like this?

Scanning the room, many others had stood randomly around at different points on the raised platforms. Some were in groups, some were alone, but all wore the same black veil; most were silent right now.

All in all, they're not a large presence.

Behind them, large swathing curtains arced high into the ceiling above, meeting at the centre point of the room, and again, the lights revealed a concealed artistry within as they passed over.

Where exactly was the light coming from? It's like moonlight finding gaps within the clouds, but there's no clouds to be seen, so instead, areas of the rooms spontaneously rise in luminescence.

It's like we've moved away from reality—like that dim, bleak cave was in another world entirely...

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

We were nearing the centre now, and many of the other imps had already gathered here.

Perhaps it was that demon from the warehouse, or the one who had carried me like a cheap bag, who brought them here.

What grasped my attention was a thin, pillar-like, raised dais, reminiscent of a sundial, in the centre of a series of concentric circles.

From the base of the dais, a series of sparse, chaotically carved roots were engraved into the ground.

Each circle appeared to act as a metaphorical barrier, as these weaving curves would suddenly grow more sparse as they passed through each ring, only slightly peaking out from the outer rim as if the 'barriers' alone weren't enough to contain them.

She walked me up to this outer rim, and briefly, I felt a hand press against my upper back, as if to tell me to stay still.

I'll comply, but I'm still going to look around.

The demoness began placing these same fabrics on each of the other imps; they too were made equally placid by the goings-on.

Behind me, large sets of armour or weapons were been standing between each of the many concurrent curtains.

Their designs ranged from simple to extravagantly intricate, but each gave the impression of a long and storied history.

Despite that, I can only imagine they're recreations of once legendary characters; perhaps some are still alive...

All of a sudden, there was a loud voice, and I turned back to see three imperious characters standing atop a blackstone platform, distinguished from all of the others; they had already been adorned with the same cloth, only it was a wholly dark red.

When I looked away, the lantern was now staring me in the face.

It must have been the demoness who placed it within the centre of the dais.

She had already left to stand somewhere, I assumed, but before I could look to see where she was, I felt the stares of all of the demons engulf me.

Clearly, I've been mentioned specifically.

They're looking me up and down; some have already turned away, but most are still boring their eyes into my face as if trying to catch a glimpse of my own.

I don't have enough experience to grasp intent through people's looks alone; perhaps I could obtain it as a skill, but my intuition tells me that some are looking with ill-concealed glares of hostility.

Well, it couldn't all be sunshine and rainbows, could it? I'll just have to level up and throw a scale through their face if they try anything... then steal all their stuff, of course.

I'm certainly not hoping to get free stuff.

Maintaining a nonchalant expression, the stares gradually died away.

The speaker at the front had piercing silver-white eyes, much like the usual light of the outside, but they stood out in particular here; they were like a relic of their own placed atop one of the many pedestals, and they demanded the attention of the room.

His words this time were brief, and we all quickly turned our heads to the centre as the lantern began to dismantle itself.

It opened up at its top, and cracking noises could be heard as it stretched open and arched around like an old tree growing but in real time.

Each branch melded into the base of the dais, connected to the artistic impressions of roots in the ground.

The room was silent.

Before long, the crystal at the centre shimmered with the light of a pristine white vitality.

I had assumed the light would spread outwards from the centre like a river forming after a downpour on a hillside--yet my expectations are betrayed.

The outer ring lit up first, with a dim but certainly noticeable light.

It tickled my skin, reminiscent of the sensation the lantern had given me before, but now it was unwavering in its magnitude.

I stood for a while, eyes closed, taking in the feelings it gave me.

Occasionally, I could feel a gaze at my back, but I ignored it, and after some time, I reopened my eyes.

How strange...

It seems the imps have all instinctively pushed into that light, but I didn't even think to do it.

Many had broken through, but some appeared to have already given up.

As the imps pushed onward, the light followed them in and traced the system of carved roots beneath their feet, and as the light grew more luminous, their struggle became ever more apparent.

Yet I remained still.

Is there not a secret to this?

Thinking back to the walk through the hallway--the way the lantern contained the light...

Can I reverse it, then invert it?

Reverse the flow, invert the emotion, reverse the flow, maintain the emotion... reverse, invert... and so on.

Again, it is like waves, but I don't have the easy crutch from before. However, the intuition is similar; I only have to maintain the emotion in the wrong direction for a short time.

That must be where the discomfort in that light came from; it must be necessary to repeat the cycle somehow.

Reaching out, I attempted to recreate the sensation around me on my hand. Not to feel it, but to actively contribute. It was such a vague conception, like trying to move the muscles in your ear, or something ludicrous like breathing into your arm...

My brows furrowed, and for a moment, I saw the light of the first layer pull towards me.

Oooh wow, am I actually getting somewhere? I'm almost about to push through...

I don't really want to be beaten by the stalker imp, who's already in the 3rd layer but struggling.

Nobody has noticed what I'm doing; it seems they don't pay attention to the apparent failures.

Quickly, I set to pulling that feeling away—pulling the breath of my arm back inwards, so to speak.

The light seemed to retreat quickly, even pushing inwards slightly.

That's exactly what I need.

I stepped forward, taking more of the feeling onto myself and repeating the same process as before.

[Ability partially gained: [Breath of the Soul lvl0] Class framework required. ]

My eyes lit up.

Hah! It's always with the class, but to think I did it on my own I think I should pat myself on the back; I mean, who even needs a system?

Despite my thoughts, the reflex of the new breath now came much easier to me.

I stepped forward and felt no resistance to the energies in the air.

It was no longer just my hand but revolving through my body in its entirety, and I watched the energies disperse and curl around my presence.

A grin formed on my face.

This control is quite riveting.

Much like back in the sanctuary, the energy seemed to dip inward and form bubbles of light that fell against my body, as if adhering to my will.

I pushed a few more steps in, and the phenomenon was clearly noticeable now; I was disrupting a whole sector of the ceremony.

A few gasps and unconcealed voices met my ears even though I was fairly sure talking was forbidden at this point.

Even the roots beneath my feet flickered as I dismantled the basic procedure of this event.

The second layer bore no resistance, and neither did the third.

None have come to stop me, they're all clearly enraptured by the absurdity of what's going on, hehe...

I'm sure my body could scarcely be seen at this point; there's only this whirling, beating energy growing with each step as I press onward.

It seems most of the imps had stopped at the 1st or 2nd layer, but the lanky imp had made it just beyond the 3rd before kneeling under the pressure.

What's making me hesitate is the dissociative sinking that's growing with each step. I had felt it before as well, and now it's dragging me into the ground, or perhaps into myself.

However, I pressed onward.

I couldn't see.

I was still there.

The energy continued to pour around you.

Swirling within your inner-world.

Dragging all of you inwards; into your origin.

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Wait.

What am I thinking?

Suddenly, the darkness around me gained clarity, and I stood atop a small plain of grass.

A pond lay at my side, but it contained no life. I'm not even sure the grass is real.

[Inner-world entered]

My inner-world?

The energy in the air.

The water in the pond.

It's everything I've absorbed before.

Incredible.

I crouched down and caressed the grass, but I was quickly met with a feeling of being pulled outwards.

[Evolution Completing.

Conditions satisfied: Evolving into [λ-Pride Demon] ]