Arayn and Soren stepped into the depths of the Verdant Shroud forest. Towering trees loomed around them, casting long shadows across the forest floor.
Soren glanced at the familiar surroundings and smiled faintly. “This is where I first met you, Master Arayn. I’m glad we did,” he said earnestly.
Arayn, leading the way, didn’t turn. “If you still have energy to reminisce, save it,” he said curtly. “You’ll need your energy. We’re about to summon demons.”
Soren quickened his steps to walk alongside him. “Master, how many abilities did you get after your class awakening?”
“I used to have seven,” Arayn replied without breaking stride.
“Used to?” Soren tilted his head. “Did you lose those abilities?”
Arayn glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “I traded six of them. In exchange, I gained something far better.”
Before Soren could press further, they arrived at a clearing. Arayn stopped and surveyed the area, then knelt to begin his preparations.
He pulled a pouch from his coat and spread the ash of a magical beast across the ground, drawing a perfect square. Around it, he carefully etched a large pentagram.
From his satchel, he retrieved a compass—the first catalyst—and placed it in the center of the square. Then, he produced a worn book, its leather cover cracked and faded. The pages contained the coordinates of demons who frequently traded with the cult.
Standing, Arayn turned to Soren, who watched intently. “Before we begin,” he said, “do you know about the factions of demons?”
Soren hesitated, then shook his head.
Arayn’s gaze hardened. “Then listen carefully. I’ll only explain this once.”
Arayn crossed his arms and gazed at the pentagram he had drawn. "There are four major factions of demons," he began. "The first is the Throne faction, made up of demons with ancient lineages. These demons have long lifespans and are born with numerous innate abilities. Because of that, they see themselves as superior—not just to other species, but even to demons from the other factions."
Soren frowned. "Superior? So they’re like nobles?"
Arayn nodded, a faint grin creeping across his face. "Exactly. Arrogant, self-righteous, and unbearable to deal with." His gaze sharpened, and he leaned slightly toward Soren. "Do you know what happens to them when we summon them?"
Soren shook his head, his curiosity piqued.
Arayn’s grin widened, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. "They’re so full of themselves that they’re hard to negotiate with. That’s why people in the cult summon them just to fight them. When they’re defeated, their bodies and essence make excellent sacrifices for rituals."
Soren’s eyes widened as he processed the revelation.
Arayn unsheathed Malzareth, holding the demonic blade up for Soren to see. The sword’s faintly glowing runes seemed to pulse with a life of their own. "This sword," he said, his voice almost reverent, "was formed from the soul of a Throne faction demon."
Soren stared at the weapon, his respect for his master deepening. "Master is so powerful," he murmured.
"Powerful, yes," Arayn agreed, sheathing the blade once more. "But even I can't underestimate demons from this faction. Without a doubt, they are the strongest faction. They get more powerful as they age. When they reach the expert-class above, they are force to be reckoned with. People in the cult only dare to summon demons who haven't reached expert-class yet."
Arayn shifted his weight, his gaze drifting to the compass nestled within the ash-drawn square. "The second faction is the Hybrids," he continued. "This faction is made up of demons with mixed blood. They might be demonic beasts that gained sapience, or even humans who were transformed into demons."
Soren tilted his head, intrigued. "So it's true that humans can become demons."
Arayn nodded. "Yes. Through certain rituals, though the cost is high. And those who succeed often become some of the most ambitious and resourceful demons."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in. "The current leader of this faction is someone you should know—our former Sovereign, Azael Crimsonstar."
Soren’s eyes widened in shock. "I know he ascended through the demonic path, but I didn't know he's in the Netherworld now."
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"Indeed," Arayn said with a faint smirk. "After his ascension, he abandoned mortality entirely and embraced his demonic nature. Now, he rules over the Hybrids with the same cunning and ambition that built this cult."
Soren's voice was filled with awe. "So, the Hybrids are tied to the cult?"
"Quite closely. The cult often deals with demons from this faction. Unlike the Throne demons, Hybrids are practical and easier to negotiate with. Their mixed nature gives them a broader perspective, and their powers are not to be trifled with. Many of the cult’s most valuable contracts and abilities come from them."
Soren nodded, his curiosity deepening as he glanced at the pentagram. "It sounds like they're the ideal faction to work with."
"Not always," Arayn replied. "Their deals come with their own risks, but you’ll learn that soon enough."
Arayn’s expression grew contemplative as he continued. “The third faction is the Hoarders. Unlike the Throne demons, these are demons of ordinary lineage, but don’t let that fool you. What they lack in innate abilities, they make up for with sheer ambition and determination. They’ll use any means necessary to become stronger—whether it’s through devouring other demons, making contracts, or amassing forbidden knowledge.”
Soren furrowed his brow. “So they work harder for their power?”
“In a sense,” Arayn replied. “They’re relentless, which is why they’ve become the largest faction in the Netherworld. Their numbers alone make them significant, and their resourcefulness means they often have something valuable to offer. The cult frequently strikes deals with them, especially for minor contracts or lesser abilities.”
Soren nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “They sound... practical.”
“They are,” Arayn said with a faint smirk. “But never underestimate their cunning. A desperate Hoarder is just as dangerous as any Throne demon.”
He straightened, his gaze sharpening. “And then there’s the last faction: the Gourmets.”
Soren blinked, the name catching him off guard. “Gourmets?”
Arayn’s smirk widened. “An ironic name, isn’t it? This faction is made up of noble demons who rejected the Throne’s ideology, as well as demons who thrive on chaos and mischief. They’re unpredictable, dangerous, and driven by a desire to indulge in their every whim—whether that’s consuming the essence of powerful beings or causing destruction for their own amusement.”
Soren shifted uncomfortably. “That sounds... terrifying.”
“It is,” Arayn said flatly. “While the Throne faction holds the most prestige, the Gourmets are a close second in terms of influence. And individually, they’re unmatched. The strongest demon in the Netherworld, Archdemon Tyras, leads this faction.”
Soren’s eyes widened. “The strongest demon?”
“Yes,” Arayn said. “Tyras is a force of nature, one of the strongest beings in this world. Even the celestials avoid crossing him. If you ever make a contract from the Gourmets, tread carefully. Their unpredictability makes them the most dangerous of all.”
Soren swallowed hard, glancing at the ritual circle. “Am I going to summoning a demon from one of these factions?”
Arayn’s smirk returned. “As your master, my job is to show paths for you. Whether you choose path A or B, it's up to you, my disciple. I give you freedom of choices. Even if you want to try a contract with the Throne, I won't stop you."
Arayn handed the book to Soren. “This book contains the coordinates of various demons, their abilities, and their factions. Your task is simple. Choose four demons to make contracts with. Each one must bring you closer to reaching your full potential.”
Soren blinked, the weight of the assignment sinking in. “Four demons? Am I going to target four abilities for my awakening?”
“Yes,” Arayn replied sharply. “This is my test for you. Study their abilities and decide which ones will serve you best. You have one hour.”
Soren’s grip on the book tightened. “Understood, Master.”
Arayn smirked faintly, crossing his arms. “Good. I expect you to focus. It’s your forte, after all. Don’t disappoint me.”
Soren nodded, determination flaring in his eyes. He turned his attention to the book, already flipping through the pages. The weight of the task didn’t deter him. If anything, it fueled his resolve.
Arayn stood silently, his gaze lingering on his disciple. He could see the gears turning in Soren’s mind. “Let’s see if you truly have what it takes to step into this world,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.
Arayn stepped back, leaving Soren to his task, and pulled out a slender stick of incense from his satchel. He lit the tip with a flick of his fingers. The sweet, musky scent of Beast Attracting Incense began to fill the air, carried by a light breeze.
He placed the incense on the ground and leaned against a tree, arms crossed. The incense’s allure worked quickly, rustling sounds echoing from the dense bush. Moments later, Bloodthorn Beasts emerged, their sinewy bodies bristling with crimson thorns. Their glowing red eyes locked onto Arayn, driven mad by the lure of the incense.
Arayn unsheathed Malzareth, the blade’s runes flaring with a dark crimson light as if hungry for what was to come. The beasts lunged at him, but their movements were predictable, almost sluggish to his keen eyes.
In a flurry of precise strikes, Malzareth cut through them with ease, its blade leaving faint trails of crimson energy in the air. Each beast let out a screech before collapsing, its body withering as the sword absorbed their souls. Arayn stood amidst the fallen creatures, the stillness only broken by the soft hum of Malzareth’s dark power.
[Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]
[Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]
[Your lifespan has increased by twelve hours]
He let out a bored yawn, stretching one arm lazily. "This is tedious," he muttered. His gaze swept over the lifeless Bloodthorn Beasts at his feet. "These creatures are the weakest magical beasts in the kingdom. No challenge, no thrill. How dull."
He sheathed Malzareth and glanced toward the forest’s darker depths. “I wish I could fight something stronger, something worth my time.”
One hour later, Soren looked up from the book. He turned to find a grisly sight—dozens of Bloodthorn Beast corpses strewn across the clearing, their twisted forms piled haphazardly. The crimson thorns on their bodies were dull now, their vitality drained, leaving them as hollow shells.
His jaw dropped slightly in shock. Arayn approached him. His steps were unhurried, his expression calm, as though the massacre was nothing more than a routine task.
“Have you decided which demons to summon?” Arayn asked.
Soren snapped out of his daze and nodded. “Yes, Master.” He pointed at the book in his hands, his finger resting firmly on one of the entries. “This is the first demon I want to contract.”