Arayn opened his status window, his gaze sharpening as he read through the details of the newly acquired ability. "[Inferno Torrent (C)]... Not bad," he mused.

The description highlighted its ability to unleash a concentrated stream of energy, capable of incinerating multiple targets in its path. As he scrolled further, his eyes caught the subtle changes in his stats. His Intelligence had increased by 2 points, as had his Wisdom.

[Name: Arayn Azael

Class: Demonic Acolyte

Level: 18

Strength: 25

Dexterity: 23

Constitution: 36

Intelligence: 38

Wisdom: 21

Charisma: 29]

He laughed. "I didn’t expect to gain benefits from your summoning, Soren," he said, closing the window. "This whole ordeal is more entertaining than I thought."

Soren smiled faintly but remained focused.

Arayn's expression grew serious as he turned to his disciple. "Now, are you absolutely certain about this last summoning? We're talking about Xal’Zyren, the Demonic Tempest of the Throne faction." He paused for emphasis. "This demon has reached expert class. It’s far beyond the others you’ve summoned so far."

Soren nodded firmly. "I’ve read the reports, Master. Xal’Zyren is one of the few Throne demons who willingly makes contracts with members of the cult. He’s arrogant, but cooperative if approached the right way. I want his ability, [Corlust Eyes of Petrification]."

Arayn’s sharp eyes studied his disciple for a moment before nodding. "Very well," he said. "Let’s begin."

Taking a deep breath, Arayn retrieved the final compass from his satchel and began preparing the ritual circle. The pentagram etched into the ground shimmered with a crimson hue as Arayn chanted the summoning incantation in the ancient demon tongue.

The clearing erupted with pressure as the demon appeared, standing tall and imposing. His golden armor shimmered faintly, and his six folded bay wings gave him an aura of undeniable authority.

He looked down at the two before him and spoke with an overwhelming force, "Kneel."

The command was backed by an invisible wave of energy that surged outward, threatening to crush them where they stood. Trees around the clearing groaned under its weight, leaves scattering as though driven by fear.

Before the force could engulf them, Arayn's own energy erupted. A suffocating aura, far greater than the demon's, filled the space. The oppressive wave dissolved instantly, leaving the towering demon unable to resist. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees, disbelief etched across his face.

"Impossible! This is... You have protection from a great demon," the demon muttered, his voice faltering. He stared at Arayn, his pride shaken, struggling to comprehend what he was facing.

Arayn stepped forward, his expression composed and commanding, the weight of his aura pressing down. "Nice attempt, but only people of the same realm as me can try to harm me. Otherwise, Tyras will protect me."

Xal'Zyren widened his eyes when he heard the name. "The Archdemon Tyras! You, who exactly are you?"

Arayn grinned. "My identity does not matter. Now, I think you understand that we are qualified to make a contract with you. Are you ready to talk properly, or will you continue wasting my time?"

The demon lowered his head, unable to hide his shock.

The demon's glowing eyes narrowed as he considered the situation. After a tense silence, he finally spoke. "Very well. You are worthy of a contract with me."

Arayn crossed his arms, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "The one forming the contract isn’t me. It’s my disciple."

The demon's expression twisted with offense. "Your disciple? That boy has no qualifications to stand before me, let alone make a contract!"

Arayn's smirk deepened, and his voice dripped with contempt. "You’re a fool. Here’s a rare opportunity to gain my favor, and instead, you choose to waste it on wounded pride."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

The demon's jaw tightened, his reluctance clear, but he relented. "Fine. I will consider the contract, but only if you introduce me to Archdemon Tyras."

Arayn's laugh rang out sharp and mocking, his tone filled with derision. "Introduce you? Do you truly believe you're worthy of meeting Archdemon Tyras?"

The demon's pride flared, and his voice turned defiant. "If you cannot do it, then I refuse to form a contract. My terms are set."

Arayn raised a brow, his tone nonchalant yet cutting. "Oh, I can do it. But the question is—why should I? The reward you're offering hardly seems worth the trouble."

The demon hesitated, then asked cautiously, "What do you want in exchange?"

Arayn’s eyes gleamed with calculation. "Donate wisps of your soul to both me and my disciple. Do that, and I might consider it."

The demon’s fiery aura flickered uncertainly. "If I agree, will you truly introduce me to Archdemon Tyras?"

Arayn grinned, his confidence unwavering. "I won’t just introduce you—I’ll ensure you get an audience with him. I know the coordinates to his domain and the password to pass the guards without being annihilated."

The demon’s hesitation melted away, replaced by eager determination. "Very well. I accept your terms."

The demon turned his gaze to Soren, his voice dripping with disdain. "Speak, mortal. What do you desire?"

Soren met his eyes without flinching, his voice steady. "I want the Corlust Eyes of Petrification."

The demon’s laughter boomed, shaking the ground beneath their feet. "Impudent whelp! You dare ask for the Corlust Eyes?"

He leaned closer, his towering body casting a shadow over Soren. "Do you even comprehend the audacity of your request? The Corlust Eyes are treasures among demons, a rare blessing even among noble lineages. They are a symbol of supremacy, a mark of unparalleled pride. To demand such a gift… you tread dangerously close to arrogance."

The demon's gaze shifted to Arayn, his fiery eyes narrowing with contemplation. For a moment, silence lingered. Finally, with a reluctant snarl, he said, "Very well. I will grant it, though you test my patience."

The demon raised a clawed hand, dark energy swirling around it, and pointed at Soren. The power surged into Soren’s body, igniting a searing pain in his eyes as the Corlust Eyes of Petrification manifested. When the process was complete, the demon placed a hand on his chest, drawing wisps of his own soul, and divided them between Soren and Arayn.

He straightened, his tone shifting to one of anticipation. "Now, mortal, the coordinate and the password to Archdemon Tyras. Give it to me."

Arayn smirked and produced a folded piece of paper from his coat. "As if I hadn’t foreseen this," he said, handing it over.

The demon snatched the paper eagerly, his lips curling into a satisfied grin. "You have fulfilled your end of the bargain. I shall remember this moment fondly."

Without another word, the demon vanished, his booming laughter echoing through the forest as he vanished in joy.

As the echo of the demon's laughter faded, Soren turned to Arayn, curiosity etched on his face. "Master, why was that demon so thrilled just to get a piece of paper?"

Arayn smirked, crossing his arms. "Why are you so happy now that you’ve become a class holder?"

Soren blinked at the question, then smiled. "Because it’s a turning point for me. I’m grateful, truly. I promise I’ll never forget this."

Arayn chuckled. "It’s the same for that demon. The chance to meet Archdemon Tyras is a monumental honor for demons. And if he manages to become Tyras's disciple, his status will ascend to unimaginable heights."

Soren hesitated before asking, "Do you think he’ll succeed?"

Arayn’s grin turned cold. "Not a chance. That demon will die. But that’s none of our concern. Even if he perishes, you won’t lose the ability he granted you."

A flicker of pity crossed Soren’s face. "I feel sorry for him."

"Pity has no place here. If he dies, it’s his own fault for overestimating himself. Remember this, Soren—a valuable lesson. Always put yourself in a favorable position. Never let anyone dictate the terms. I never place myself at a disadvantage. Everything I do is calculated, everything within the palm of my hand."

Soren stared at his master in awe, the weight of Arayn’s words sinking in. "You’re truly remarkable, Master."

Arayn smirked, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "And you, my disciple, should follow my example."

Soren clenched his fists, determination flickering in his gaze. "I promise, Master. I’ll always ensure I’m at an advantage, no matter the situation."

Arayn’s smirk widened. "Words are cheap. You need to prove it to me, right now. We’re both under the effect of the [Wisp of Demon Soul]. Open your status window and read what it offers."

Without hesitation, Soren summoned his status window. Lines of glowing text appeared before him, detailing his current state.

[Active Buff: Wisp of Demon Soul

Increases experience gain by 300% for one day.

Enhances stat growth by 300% for one day.]

Arayn’s eyes narrowed as he read his own status window silently, noting the same effect. He laughed, a low, satisfied sound. "Do you see the potential in this gift? The Wisp of Demon Soul is a rare boon. It multiplies not only your experience gain but your stat growth for an entire day. If you use this time wisely, you’ll ascend far faster than others."

Soren’s jaw tightened, his excitement barely contained. "This is incredible. I won’t waste a second of it."

Arayn gestured toward the dense forest surrounding them. "Good. Because training starts now. Let’s see how much you can grow under this effect. Remember, Soren—this is your chance to show me you can truly embody the lessons I’ve taught you."

Soren nodded, his determination solidifying. "I won’t let you down, Master."

Arayn smirked. "Then let’s begin."