Hovering above me, it loomed, studying me intently as I struggled to recover from the ordeal. Though I could feel the weight of its gaze, the spells it cast and the words it spoke remained incomprehensible. The chorus of tens of voices protected its secrets, their overlapping resonance a barrier to understanding.
Minutes passed, its silent observation growing stale. Finally, the demon shifted its attention, surveying the room with thinly veiled disgust.
"As a prince, you cannot abide such a pitiful, cramped throne room. And since I am now your teacher, I refuse to live in these squalid conditions better suited to common beasts."
With that, it raised its hands, its fingers twisting and contorting in ways that defied physical limitations. Its movements were as mesmerizing as they were alien. Then it began to chant, but this time, only three voices wove together, their harmony sharp and deliberate, allowing me to retain the words it spoke:
"By the void between the stars, where shadows dwell and silence screams, I call upon the endless dark, to craft my fortress born of dreams. Cosmic fire, blackened stone, rise and bind, this space my own. Wrought by claws of demon might, this throne shall stand, eternal night. Columns vast and arches high, in this abyss, no light shall pry. Two chambers bound by will and fate, for master mine and servant great. Blood of stars and fire’s breath, weave this realm through life and death. Time and space, bend to my call, shadowed halls rise tall for all. By pact of flame and curse of bone, this throne room’s might is carved in stone!"
I could only watch as the room warped and expanded, reshaped to fit the knowledge demon's grand vision. What had once been a cramped and dreary space transformed into something vast and awe-inspiring. Though the changes reflected the demon's desires, I found myself strangely drawn to the alterations.
The newly forged throne room mirrored the depths of my mind library in the gothic architecture, its grand arches and sprawling design exuding an oppressive yet magnificent aura. Even with my rudimentary understanding of space magic, I could feel the overwhelming presence of spatial energy saturating the air as the transformation unfolded before my eyes.
Even the bone throne I sat upon transformed, now harmonizing with the grandeur of the newly expanded room. As I glanced around, I noticed some key features were missing—the blood pool and the chair I had used to train my resistances were gone. A flicker of irritation sparked within me, and I prepared to demand an explanation. Before I could speak, the knowledge demon cut me off, its voice calm but commanding.
"Those tools are in your new chambers, young prince," it began, its multitude of voices weaving a seamless harmony. "Along with a freshly crafted blood pool. I've also taken the liberty of designing a dedicated training room within your quarters, one robust enough to withstand your exercises without risking the collapse of these tunnels—a concern you were wise to fear. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must tend to my own room and prepare it for the lessons in magic we shall begin soon."
Without waiting for a response, the demon turned and strode toward the room it had carved out for itself. On its way, it passed Vorthan, who still lay on the ground, and casually delivered a sharp kick to his side.
I clenched my fists, anger bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t right for him to harm Vorthan, even if he believed Vorthan had failed in his duties. I opened my mouth to protest, but before the words could leave my lips, Vorthan shot upright.
His sudden movement startled me, and I noticed something different—his wounds were gone, and he no longer bore the appearance of someone on the brink of death. He looked... whole, though there was a trace of panic in his eyes.
"Master," Vorthan stammered, his voice trembling. "You didn’t summon a Rank 6 knowledge demon... you summoned a Rank 8 instead." His tail coiled tightly around him, a protective gesture as if he feared it might be torn away. His body quivered under the weight of his realization, the fear in his voice sending a chill through me.
I should have destroyed the magical circles when I had the chance. My gut had screamed at me to act, but I’d ignored it. Now, this thing was here, and I knew it would toy with me for its amusement. Rage boiled inside me as I turned to Vorthan, who was still visibly shaken.
"Vorthan, tell me everything you know about Knowledge Demons—especially the higher-ranked ones," I demanded, my voice sharp with frustration. I couldn’t believe I’d allowed something so dangerous into my domain.
Vorthan gulped audibly, his tail coiling tighter around him as though it could shield him from the Rank 8 demon’s gaze—even though it was still inside its new quarters. His voice came out hesitant, careful not to draw unwanted attention.
"Knowledge Demons... they’re a rare and terrifying kind," he began, his words slow and deliberate. "Most who become Knowledge Demons are those who reached the pinnacle of their magic at Rank 5 but wanted more—craved more. When a demon of exceptional intelligence faces evolution at that rank, they’re presented with a choice. They can abandon their original demonic race, forsaking all they were, to become a Knowledge Demon, sacrificing strength for the unending pursuit of knowledge. It’s a dangerous path. They often grow weaker upon their initial transformation, but as they consume knowledge, their power grows exponentially. For them, killing isn’t a necessity to gain experience anymore—they gain it simply by learning."
He hesitated, his eyes darting to the demon’s room as if it could hear every word.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"At Rank 7, their class shifts entirely to suit their existence as Knowledge Demons. They stop being anything close to what they were. But it’s Rank 8 where they become truly dangerous." His voice lowered, trembling slightly. "At that rank, they gain the ability to invade the minds of others by touch, taking any knowledge they desire. But that’s not the worst part."
He paused, visibly shaken.
"It’s their presence," he continued. "It carries madness. Those of lower rank, or anyone with weak mental resistance, can’t endure it. Their minds crumble, devouring themselves in a desperate attempt to survive the encounter. Rank 9... Rank 9 Knowledge Demons are something else entirely. They do all of this and more. Even the Demon King doesn’t allow Rank 9 Knowledge Demons—or anything stronger—to act without explicit permission. The last time one moved unchecked, it sparked a war with the holy bastards that lasted twenty thousand years. That war is still raging."
Vorthan shivered, his voice dropping further. "The only silver lining here is that this particular Knowledge Demon is of the Space affinity. That means it may try to force you to follow its path—to learn everything it knows, grooming you into becoming one of its own kin. And when the time comes... it might try to take it all back from you with interest."
His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the creeping tendrils of fear gripping at the edges of my mind. Even when I met Vlados I hadn't broken like I did I saw the face of the knowledge demon. Vlados was scary to the point where I thought I might die just from breathing wrong but this demon makes my soul tremble in fear.
----------------------------------------
I will survive this. I will take from him what he seeks to take from me. His knowledge will become my weapon, his power my stepping stone. It had been six hours since he retreated to his quarters, and I had heard nothing. Part of me began to wonder if this was all just some elaborate, twisted joke.
Two more hours passed before the door finally creaked open. His multitude of voices echoed through the halls, summoning me to come and learn. The command resonated, and despite my wariness, I obeyed.
I stepped into the room, my breath catching at the sight. It was a bizarre, seamless fusion of a scientist’s laboratory and a wizard’s sanctum. Instruments of precision and measurement sat alongside glowing runes and arcane symbols that pulsed with faint energy. It was a place where science and magic intertwined, a room of blended worlds. I couldn’t help but gape in awe at the sheer brilliance of it all.
As I marveled, his voice broke the silence, carrying an unsettling tone of joy—if joy could ever sound like a cacophony of voices speaking as one. "The knowledge I gained from you and your world—Earth—was truly enlightening, though you don't know much it was more than I expected." the Knowledge Demon said, its voices layering together in eerie harmony. "Thanks to what I’ve learned from you, I’ve already progressed halfway to Rank 9, child. Imagine the possibilities! I might even buy your father's soul and remake him, much like Vlados did for you. If I did that, I could likely ascend straight to Rank 11 in one fell swoop. Perhaps I should even persuade Vlados to send both of your parents here sooner. With their souls and your potential, I could ensure you become the very strongest while I become one of the new demon gods of knowledge." The demon’s sing-song tone twisted my stomach, the haunting joy of countless voices celebrating in unison sending a shiver down my spine.
"Wait." My voice broke the moment like a stone thrown into still water. "What do you mean by buying my father's soul? And when are they supposed to come here?" I demanded, my confusion mingling with a cold dread that clawed at my thoughts. How did he know about this? Did Vlados tell him?
For the first time, I felt like the game I was playing wasn’t one I fully understood.
"Ah, so you don't know then it is not my place to tell you."It said the voices singing as one.
It watched me, its piercing gaze drilling into my very core as I struggled to form a coherent thought. Every casual remark it made seemed to shatter another fragment of my understanding of reality, leaving me adrift in a sea of confusion.
"But enough of that," it said, the warmth in its voices giving way to a frigid, commanding tone. "I am not one to waste time. There will be no more questions. The only thing you will concern yourself with in this room is magic and the pursuit of knowledge I deem worthy." The finality in its words froze me. I dared not argue, not with something that could unravel me with a glance. I nodded silently and sat where it motioned, trying to suppress the dread coiling in my chest.
"As you already know," it began, "skills can be both magical and physical. Most warriors will never touch the grace of magic, but exceptions exist. Those with a strong affinity for mana can reshape their class, blending physical prowess with the arcane. For this to occur, one must have an affinity exceeding 30% and a natural sensitivity to ambient mana around them."
"You, however, are far more promising. With your high intelligence, strong will, and outright divine-level affinity disheartening to me and countless other magic users If beings knew of the percentage of your affinity almost every blood mage or god would hunt you down to devour it, you have the makings of a formidable mage. Be glad child because I do not have an affinity for blood otherwise, I may have tried to eat you. If we can elevate your blood affinity to 100%, you will be able to create a unique magic—one that not only defines you but can also be passed to your descendants." It said while walking around grabbing books and supplies they were positioned around the room. "There are methods to push your blood affinity to 100% immediately, but it would be shortsighted. First, we must nurture your other affinities, raising their potential to maximize their synergy. Once we strengthen them, I will introduce an artificial affinity into your arsenal. The earlier we do this, the better, as it will grant you time to harmonize it with your natural affinities and strengthen it before eventually merging them all together."
Taking a moment it stopped talking stretching its arm to reach a book on the highest level of the bookshelf. Then it resumed speaking.
"When the time comes to name this new, fused affinity, do not rush. Feel its essence first. Naming it incorrectly risks weakening the entire affinity, reducing its potential." It sighed, its multitude of voices briefly converging into one, the sound carrying an almost unnatural resonance. "But for now, we focus on what truly matters: the foundation. You must learn runes, both standard and demonic, to cast spells and perform rituals without relying on skills or others. Only then will you grasp the power necessary to stand at the pinnacle of magic."
The demon placed a pile of books and resources onto a newly summoned desk in front of me, the heavy tomes thudding as they hit the surface. As I looked over them, I realized I could barely decipher most of the writing. Only bits and pieces made sense, and that was because I recognized some of the demonic runes the other demons used around the base.
The demonic runes were surprisingly easier to grasp than the other scripts, which I guessed to be arcane runes. Those were far more complex, their symbols twisting and looping in ways that gave me a headache just trying to follow their patterns. Among the collection, I noticed a variety of books—one on blood magic, another on vampires, and even a detailed text about my race and the natural evolutionary paths available to me.
It was clear the knowledge demon wasn’t acting out of charity. It wanted me stronger, sharper, more capable—because every ounce of progress I made brought it closer to the knowledge it craved. I wasn’t sure if I should feel manipulated or grateful. Likely both.
Regardless, this was an opportunity I couldn’t squander. If it wanted me to grow stronger, I would. But not just for its benefit. Every step I took toward power would be another step closer to carving out my path, free from its looming shadow.