**Three Hours Later. Same Place**

*Vulkan*

“Ahhhh,” I exhaled with difficulty, my new lungs practically creaking under the strain. Everything inside burned, and even for me, Vulkan, this wasn’t exactly pleasant. “Humans these days are so fragile, not like before…”

Who would’ve thought this body could barely withstand my soul’s presence? And to think, in my prime, attempting to inhabit this weakling would’ve probably made him explode outright. But this isn’t just an avatar anymore—it’s my new body. The bond is complete, and dying again isn’t an option. Otherwise, I’d face more than just another few millennia of slumber...

The priority now was clear: to restore this vessel to a functional state. Step one? Food. This body was unusually frail, and post-fusion, it hurt like hell. Not to mention, I’d only recently been a literal corpse.

“No one would believe it,” I muttered, forcing myself to my feet. The world swayed before my eyes, and hunger gnawed at me fiercely. “Though this isn’t something to share with anyone—especially Nanoris... Is that old chicken still alive after all this time?”

Every step was a struggle, but I managed to reach the summoning circle, now my new power center. Funny, I’d somehow crawled several meters away from it while unconscious.

“Wait a second, why’s it so small?” I growled, glaring at the glowing blotch barely the size of a hand. “Where’s the rest of it?”

Even after reincarnation, a portion of my power should’ve remained intact, regardless of this weakened body. Could it have dissipated over the ages?

After staring into the void for a few moments, I shook my head. No matter. I was once a low-ranking demon myself. With my experience and knowledge, regaining my former strength is only a matter of time.

Oh, right. I’m not alone here.

“Dima, you there?” I called to the original owner of this body. “Still hanging on?”

“Yes,” came a faint voice from within. “I think so…”

“Got it,” I nodded at the emptiness and added, “Rest for now. We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

He didn’t respond, but I could feel his acknowledgment. Good—he’d retained his consciousness after the merge. That would make him a valuable guide to this new world. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much had changed during my absence.

The body was finally starting to adapt to my presence. The nausea subsided, and the haze before my eyes cleared. The pain persisted but had dulled to a tolerable level—nothing a demon like me couldn’t handle.

Cracking my neck, I began stretching my stiffened joints while surveying my surroundings. I was trapped in a small, dark concrete box. The only sources of light were a dim bulb hanging from the ceiling and the faint glow of my summoning circle, now nearly extinguished.

Shaking my head, I decided to move on to the most pressing matter—stabilizing the demonic seal. This body was in no condition to store and process cursed energy on its own.

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Placing my hands on the floor, I channeled the last of my remaining energy into the seal, solidifying the bond. Minutes passed, and the circle faded completely but remained embedded as my new power nexus. Sure, my influence now barely extended to the confines of this concrete cell, but this humble beginning could eventually become the foundation of an impregnable fortress.

“Well, this is pathetic,” I sighed, examining the finished product. The seal was barely ten centimeters in diameter, and its cursed energy was almost undetectable. “A low-tier demon… Vulkan, how did it come to this?”

At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, urging me into action. As much as I’d love to hunt for food right now, the sturdy steel door with its narrow, barred slit didn’t make that seem likely.

Scanning my new body, I regrettably confirmed my worst fears: this obstacle was currently insurmountable. Even in peak condition, Dima had been weak, incapable of igniting a candle with his power. On top of that, someone had drained his life force to the brink before I arrived.

There was one small comfort, though: according to his memories, I’d taken over the body of someone who was, in a way, my disciple. The demonic bloodline of the Vulkanovs had always carried the same gift as mine. Even Dima, despite his underdeveloped state, had nine magical cores—a remarkable and rare trait!

But what good was that to me now? Absolutely nothing...

*Cough!* Blood splattered as I slumped against the cold wall, barely able to remain upright.

Ah, right—magical cores. Nine of them. The problem was, distinguishing those faint energy clusters from ordinary mana channels was nearly impossible, even for me. Dima was already magically deficient, and whoever had exploited him had buried him in massive debt—debt I now had to repay. He was useless otherwise. Even if he woke up, I doubted he’d be of much help; otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed me in the first place.

Still, it could’ve been worse. At least he had some potential. That meant it was time to put my skills to use.

First, I inspected the central mana column—a core conduit connecting all magical cores. This was where I’d start the restoration process. Specifically, I needed to expand this passage, which was currently blocked and undeveloped.

While this might sound simple, it wasn’t technically magic. Yet the stability of this link directly determined the abilities and potential of a young mage. Without a properly developed central column, mana couldn’t circulate between the cores, leading to their eventual degradation and total loss of potential. This is how promising individuals end up powerless for life.

Dima had drawn the short straw from birth. His central column was completely obstructed, making energy circulation physically impossible. While some weaklings might still develop abilities over time—albeit with degraded cores—my host was doomed to remain a mere mortal. And I wasn’t about to let that stand!

Touching the seal, I carefully funneled the last of my cursed energy into the central column, forcing it to expand and grow. I proceeded with the utmost caution—normally, this process takes years or even decades for regular mages. I intended to achieve acceptable results in just a few hours. One misstep, though, and it would all be over—not just for Dima, but for me.

Finally, my efforts bore fruit. Mana began circulating through my new body, albeit with sharp pangs of pain. The cores, sensing the change, reluctantly released traces of their dormant energy.

For now, that was all I could do. The demonic seal was completely depleted, my cursed energy was spent, and the body had entered a natural recovery process. The best thing I could do now was avoid interfering and figure out how to silence my growling stomach.

With joints cracking and a pronounced limp, I rose to my feet and shuffled toward the steel door. Along the way, I glanced around again, mostly to avoid stepping on anything unpleasant.

The sight was, to say the least, depressing. Once again, humanity proved to be far crueler than any demon or deity. Even we demons treated prisoners with a certain level of respect when taking captives alive was necessary—none of *this*.

The air in the cell reeked of necrotic energy, bordering on cursed mana. Dima was clearly not the first prisoner here; his predecessors had long since perished. Judging by the state of the room, no one had bothered to clean it since it was built. At least it was a solitary cell—no witnesses to my ongoing transformation.