“So, this is what you look like.”

After their initial conversation, Israfel stopped controlling his undead and went to personally greet Elsmeth.

He wasn’t going to say it, but a skeleton examining him from head to toe weirded him out a bit.

For starters, he found it questionable why its head was moving up and down while observing him.

‘Just what eyes does it think it’s using?’ He wondered to himself.

“It’s odd. According to my understanding of demon culture, your appearance would be considered handsome. But I’m actually quite comfortable with how I look… I wonder if this sense of aesthetics came with my birth.”

At Elsmeth’s words, Israfel raised his eyebrows.

“What understanding of demon culture are you supposed to have? Come to think of it, you seem rather knowledgeable considering your circumstances. Is this also an effect of the Lord’s spell?”

Not bothering to delve into the topic of beauty with a skeleton, he instead chose to address a more intriguing matter.

“Even if you ask me, how would I know? In the first place, the position of ‘Demon King’ in demon politics is something I’m familiar with, but when you mention a specific individual, nobody comes to mind.”

“Out of all the things you seem to know, you don’t know who the Demon King is?”

“No… I don’t know anyone. I can think of noble titles, but I can’t picture anyone holding them. I recognize your necromatic spells animating these undead, but it’s only after seeing them now that I have a vague idea of how to use the magic myself. I feel like I just have an elementary understanding of various topics… I don’t know why.”

“Hmm, it’s not like we’ll be lucky enough to get answers from the Demon King himself. Not unless we do something significant enough to get an audience with him. I wouldn’t dwell on it, though. Whatever it is you don’t know, you’ll just have to learn. That’s how life is, isn’t it?”

“You’re asking how life is to someone that’s been around less than a day… but yes, I suppose that is how life is.”

“Fortunately for you, we’ll have plenty of quality time together to figure things out. I just need to take care of this mess I put myself in first.”

Aside from the few undead created from demon corpses brought from the Abyssal Realm, a grand addition of eight human types added to the lineup stood beside him.

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Israfel began to rub his chin as he looked at his troublesome collection.

“Do you have a plan in mind?”

The tone Elsmeth used was more inquisitive than concerned. His emotions were so skewed towards coming to terms with his new reality that there was a fundamental disconnect between them and the possibility that his life could actually be in imminent peril.

It was an effective psychological defense mechanism. To have one’s existence threatened immediately after gaining it would be difficult to stomach.

“I have a one… but it’s relying quite heavily on abilities I’ve only just gained from the Lord’s spell. Well, we were meant to lie low for the first few days to get acquainted with our new powers anyway. I guess this will be the perfect opportunity to familiarize under pressure. Come on, let’s go to the portal room.”

Navigating down the few floors Israfel had painstakingly crafted, with his undead of course, they found themselves at the most important region of the dungeon.

What Elsmeth was met with upon entering left him completely enthralled.

It was simply stunning. The type of energy he was feeling was on a completely different level than what he watched the humans and Israfel use.

Israfel would be astounded if he caught even a glimpse of Elsmeth’s perception, for what they took in from their surroundings was incomparable despite witnessing the same phenomena.

The appearance of magic was the same for the different races.

Lightning magic danced through the air as yellow arcs zooming around.

Earth magic accumulated small brown grains surprisingly capable of forming the most impenetrable barriers and deadly projectiles.

Water magic’s malleable nature allowed it to alternate between its beautiful sky-blue transparent liquid form and chill-inducing opaque solid form.

Air magic stubbornly remained invisible to the naked eye whether small, elongated slits of it were used for slicing or enormous collections of it bombarded targets with overwhelming force.

Fire magic flickered with a brilliant orange hue as it radiated scorching heat to its surroundings.

Darkness magic crept through the air as an ethereal black gas.

Light magic behaved as a blend of darkness and fire magic. Its gaseous form slowly propagated the atmosphere with a warm and soothing orange glow.

Be it beast folk, plant folk, humans, or demons these facts held true.

As for Elsmeth, in a manner much similar to a bat with its echolocation, his darkness magic transmitted information to him about his surroundings. But, if it was only that, it would be nothing special. All necromancers would experience that method of perception when controlling their skeletons.

What he saw, instead, was something more fundamental in nature. The very base components of matter, and the magic composing it, revealed themselves when faced with his examination.

Rather than simple colors and other experiences given by the typical physical senses, he was instead confronted with minuscule repeating units that formed chains and three-dimensional folded structures.

Each unique unit invoked a distinct feeling. It wasn’t as if textbook information came to his mind explaining to him their functions. The understanding seemed to be instinctually ingrained into his soul itself.

Hard. Soft. Elastic. Stiff. Hot. Cold.

These tiny monomers and numerous more carried their own separate conceptual meanings, each with their corresponding opposites.

What this provided him was an insight into the operation of spells that no wielder of magic would be able to fathom.

Even then, the significance of what he had witnessed prior to the portal room paled in comparison to what he was confronted with upon entry.

A conceptual meaning that stood supreme above all, ruling over anything and everything.

Creation.