The bound Murloc gave out a muffled scream, his mouth gagged by Mordred. What this was happened to be the natural reaction to seeing three of his dead kin being hung up like, well, dead fish, their necks and wrists slit to allow their blood to flow down into a puddle. Its wide, fishy lips were carefully plugged so that he could not produce any meaningful noise.
Whilst dismantling one of the murloc’s wet wooden baskets, Mordred tried to strike a conversation with the bound Murloc. “Hey, you! You’re finally awake. You were trying to cross the border of life and death, right? You walked right into an ambush, same as those three over there...” He joked, fluent in Murloc's fishy language.
He had devoured the souls of three Murlocs to recover his soul essence and plunder some of their memories. It includes their language, knowledge, and life experience. If he were to have a Murloc body, he could perfectly imitate one.
The action of devouring Murloc souls also pushed his cultivation base from 4-man soul into 5-man soul in a short period of time. For him, murder and devouring souls was the fastest method to recover his cultivation.
The bound murloc’s eyes went wide, and its retaliation became stronger, but his bondage held. Despite the lack of muscle strength, decades upon decades of experience in torture came paired with experience in binding much stronger captives with much worse materials at hand. Even if the Murloc suddenly turned into a rank 0 cultivator, he wouldn’t be able to break free.
“Now, now, be patient. Your turn will eventually come, but for now, let me eat some of your friend’s meat.” He started to make some hand seals as he spoke. After about three seconds of complex motions, he directed his palm towards a pile of wet wooden slag; the remnants of disassembled Murloc baskets. Invisible sound waves emitted from his palm and evaporated the water molecules, and simultaneously, the wooden pile ignited.
With the head of a stone-tipped spear, he shaved off some of the meat from one of the corpses whose head was crushed after being hit by his [Bell Palm], deftly descaling their natural defense mechanism. Murloc scales, he has found, can be used as a defensive gear due to its chitinous material, though mortal-rank Murlocs only produced mortal-rank resources. Even so, he collected the scales so that they could be used later, perhaps for some spell catalyst.
“Hmm, big brother would love this world, there’s so many edible races waiting just around the corner!” Mordred grilled the meat, his mood veritably improved after inhaling the scent. Perhaps, he had been influenced by his body, but a good meal had always been a mood booster. Even without seasoning, the red meaty fish flesh of Murlocs had a unique saline flavor, containing a large amount of moisture inside it.
“Your kin tastes like a catfish- no wait, turtle- or was it a poison perch? Too many years and too many resurrections.” Mordred shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it’s absolutely better than the demons of Purgatory World.”
He repeated the action of slowly roasting and eating the meat of dead Murloc while waiting for the hanged corpses to be completely drained of blood, to the utter horror of his bound spectator.
Once he was completely satisfied, Mordred slept since his mortal body had used up a lot of energy. When he woke up from his nap, the sun had set, but according to his subconscious clock, it should be around 9 or 10 pm.
With renewed vigor, he checked whether or not the murloc corpses had completely drained of blood, and they were. It collected in a divot of the cavern, producing a thick stench that permeated throughout it. Despite the heavy contrast between it and the scent of his cooking the previous night, he didn’t bat an eye the entire night, it seems. He’s slept in worse, both in this life and otherwise.
He drew a sacrificial rune formation with the blood, the puddle acting as the center. Despite the lack of a source of magic, the moment it was finished, a demonic aura began to leak from the sacrificial formation. The stench of sulfur began to seeth into the little cave, slowly driving away the odor of blood. Sensing this, the bound murloc instinctually realized why he was left alive. He began thrashing and squirming in his ropes with a newfound fervor, but Mordred kicked his solar plexus to stop his movements. He wasn’t worried that he might escape, but that he might interrupt the ritual. A moment later, he dragged the murloc onto the blood puddle before kicking it multiple times to ensure he wouldn’t be able to retaliate.
After all the necessary ‘catalysts’ (victims) have been ‘gathered’ (ambushed, kidnapped, and murdered, before being dragged into a cave and drained of their blood in front of their sole survivor), Mordred began to chant. Were an expert in Demonology present, they would be able to discern that he was whispering in demon tongue. A vile, oppressive aura started to manifest inside the cave as the sulfuric stench intensified. Fortunately, the cave was quite hidden, and the stench was equally obfuscated by the marshland below and above.
It took Mordred ten minutes before his chanting was finished, the stench reaching downright putrid levels, “Rank 0 blood-path soul art, [Blutopfer]!”
Swoosh! The eight-sided star-like sacrificial ritual drawn from blood quickly ignited in demonic crimson flame, and the murloc corpses melted into viscous, blood-like liquid. But Mordred hadn't finished yet. Blutopfer, also known as Blood Sacrifice, is simply a method to use blood as an energy substitute. Due to a lack of soul essence, he used the blood of Murlocs to support the activation of his next method.
Mordred knew he wouldn’t be able to refine a blood potion anytime soon due to several factors such as the necessary facilities or resources. In addition, Sumire had taken an interest in him; perhaps she sensed something was off, or that he was stronger than he let on, like she was. Either way, what he wanted to do was ask for ‘support’. Preferably in resources.
He had prepared this ‘ressurection’ plan ages ago, there was no need for him to actually ‘restart’ all his hardships from zero. Amongst his planned contingencies were the Demonic Grimoire Lemegeton, a rank 6 artifact which had sealed the demons he captured during his extraplanar campaign. Some of the demons imprisoned within include the Demon Kings originated from Purgatory World, Infernal Abyss, Tartarus Penal World, Hellfire Stellar Pit, and many other minor or major demon worlds.
According to his memories, the Demonic Grimoire Lemegeton imprisoned nine rank 6 Demon Kings comparable to or even more dangerous than Demon King Maximilian the 4th Otherworldly Invader, and countless other lower-ranked demons. And so, his aim was to establish a communication channel between this coordinate to Lemegeton which was stored somewhere safe in the Extreme South.
“Rank 0 soul-path soul art, [Lemegeton Summons: Demonic Transmission]!”
The flame flickered as a blurry image began to reveal itself from it. Although it is a primitive demonic method, it is still a communication channel nonetheless. Of course, no actual image could be passed on since any sighting of demonic entities might induce insanity to mortal minds, and to do that, the communication channel must be constructed with strong, preferably permanent material.
“Demon King of Grand Strategy: Paimon, heed my call.” Mordred spoke to the flame.
The flames flickered and were about to fail, but the other side received the ‘ping’ from Mordred. Before the channel collapsed onto itself, the other side used their methods to stabilize and widen the channel, preventing it from crumbling because Mordred’s method was too weak. After all, it was constructed using the blood of mortal-rank Murlocs.
Normally, it would be impossible to construct a communication channel with so little fuel, but with the assistance of Lemegeton and the astronomical distance between Mordred’s current location and demonic Grimoire is still within the same world, it barely works.
“Your Majesty, is that you?” An almost motherly voice replied to his call, but Mordred simply frowned.
“This voice isn’t Paimon… why are you in Paimon’s castle?” Mordred was sure that he was trying to connect Paimon’s estate.
Although Lemegeton is a ‘prison’, the grimoire held a dimension large enough to confine nine demon kings. Within Lemegeton, the myriad species of demons he imprisoned had developed their own culture, politics, and civilization. Although it shouldn’t be strange for Demon King Paimon’s castle to be invaded by another demon king, he had put some sort of rules so that each demon king wouldn’t be able to kill or claim each other’s estate.
This is because Lemegeton is very related to his plans. Paimon was a special demon king that he ‘captured’ in Lemegeton, Mordred had planned for her to be his assistant during his low-rank period. If Paimon has been killed by another demon king or is absent from her post, then Mordred’s plan will have to be altered one way or another.
“Who is this?” He asked once more, trying to recall, but his fragmented memory didn’t allow him to remember whose voice it belonged to. One thing was certain though: it has to be one of the eight demon kings other than Paimon, otherwise, none of them are strong enough to occupy her castle.
“Your Majesty, it is I, your humble servant, you might know me as the Demon King of Lascivious Purgatory: Asmodeus!” The other side replied.
Mordred’s frown grew deeper. ‘Asmodeus… Asmodai… Ah, I remember: the Aesma Daeva, a Wrath Demon. She’s one of the most powerful demon kings that I captured, second only after Demon King Baal. How was she able to control her limitless wrath?’
According to the memory that he slowly recovers after hearing her voice, Asmodeus was one of the most troublesome Demon Kings to capture at the start of his extraplanar campaigns which began around two hundred years before the “death” of the “Great Archmage”.
She was also the first Demon King that was captured in Lemegeton.
Unlike other demon kings, this embodiment of wrath would not listen to any negotiation nor conversation. Meaning, deception and trickery simply doesn't work on her. Though, how he was able to put her into Lemegeton was still a mystery since he’s lost that part of the memory.
Now that she had answered his call and conversed like a sane person does, he was actually surprised. “Asmodeus, you’re the Demon King of Lascivious Purgatory, now?”
“Yes. Didn’t you give that Stygian Succubus’s three-headed dragon body for me to control my infinite wrath?” Asmodeus replied, wondering. “Ah, is this a Scenario-3?” She spoke to herself, almost inaudible to Mordred.
Mordred suddenly recalled who Asmodeus was referring to. The Stygian Succubus was none other than one of Demon King Paimon’s aliases.
Like any proper rank 6 Sovereigns worth their salt, all demon kings possessed potent death-mitigation methods. Some of them are in the form of secondary bodies, split souls, or using their descendants as seeds of reincarnations, et cetera. As an example, Mordred’s most extreme death-mitigation method is using a pseudo-random teleportation to send away some part of his truesoul contained within a Soul Phylactery. In truth, there are countless other methods that can be used, with some being easier for post-resurrection recovery while others are more difficult, typically in exchange for being harder to prevent.
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As for Demon King Paimon, her true body was the Stygian Succubus while her secondary body was a three-headed dragon. If Asmodeus’ words are true, which should be, since she cannot lie to Mordred due to the contract written in the Demonic Grimoire Lemegeton, then the reason why Asmodeus is currently within Paimon’s castle should be according to Mordred’s ‘arrangement’.
Though, he had lost his memories so he had no idea what his next ‘arrangement’ was.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t waste time. Communication with demonic entities should be kept short before the dimensional laws are passively being altered by the demons, especially since Asmodeus is a rank 6 entity. Fortunately, he had created countermeasures against the corruption of dimensional laws. Through Lemegeton, the communication channel is safe in a sense that it cannot transmit the aura nor most of the demon’s ability. Otherwise, the demonic presence of Asmodeus in the material world would alert the Sacred Alliance.
Even so, if this channel were to stay open longer than it should, the ground would grow sulphuric substances because Asmodeus’ demonic aura is simply too strong.
‘If Paimon is absent, then I should use the next best thing.’ Mordred did not let his thoughts wander for too long. “Asmodeus, I am in need of a blood potion to augment my mortal shell’s spiritual talent. I was planning to ask Paimon about this, but she’s no longer here, so give me your bloodline talent in exchange for this sacrifice.” He pointed at the bound murloc who was, at this point, frothing at the mouth.
His original plan was to gain Paimon’s diluted bloodline through an offering because the Stygian Succubus can be considered a ‘spirit’ cultivator, despite her demonic nature. In terms of spiritual talent, the Demon King of Grand Strategy’s bloodline is obviously a far more preferable option than refining a blood potion through Satoru’s mother, especially since refining a blood potion is no longer a viable option.
Even if the ‘offering’ that Mordred can offer towards Paimon is lacking, he could make use of his status as her collaborator to ‘borrow’ some of her grace. He had made a deal with Paimon, helping her to convert into an archdevil species, though he couldn’t remember the details for now. He could pay Paimon in installments which means he can regularly sacrifice some souls towards the Stygian Succubus over a period of time to pay back her grace.
On the contrary, Asmodeus can be considered as a ‘body’ cultivator whose personal combat strength is off the charts. As a rank 6 entity, she had her own methods to augment her specs and eliminate her weaknesses. In fact, her ‘spirit’ is no weaker than other demon kings which spoke of her personal might. And so, gaining a wisp of her bloodline isn’t a bad substitute.
“Your Majesty, that meager sacrifice wouldn’t even allow my rank 4 Paragon subordinates to give you their bloodline…” Asmodeus’s voice contain a hint of disappointment. “May I offer you another solution?”
Just as he had expected, Asmodeus might seem courteous, but she is, after all, a Demon King, while Mordred is her captor. There’s no way the demon king would blindly follow his request without something equivalent of worth in exchange.
“What is it?” Mordred replied coldly, not wanting to play one of Asmodeus’ games.
“Don’t be like that, Your Majesty.” Her voice contains the coquettish charm of a nubile, sexy older sister jokingly begging her little brother for some cash. Despite Lemegeton blocking her ability, her mere voice that could enslave mortals still affects Mordred slightly. “You promised to take me out of this prison after I gained complete control of my infinite wrath. It’s almost two hundred years of Morgen World time or two thousand years of Lemegeton time, but you’ve never come to get me. I even made some split souls after you said that your future selves wouldn’t be able to take out my true body outside!”
“You want me to take your split souls, is that it?” He suddenly felt a headache coming.
“Yes! This is Scenario-3, where most of your memories have been lost. Back then, you arranged for me to be your attendant because you deduced that making contact with people from your previous life might allow your memories to slowly recover.” She elaborate, almost beggingly. “My split souls would be a mirror-image of myself. From their eyes, I’ll be able to accompany and experience the thrill of your adventure! Although there’ll be some limitations, it’s completely better than being bored in this prison. It’s a win-win solution, I’ll behave and will listen to your words, so please… take me out…”
Amongst the nine demon kings that he imprisoned in Lemegeton, Asmodeus has the most honest and direct personality and there’s no complicated backstory over this. Her personality was deeply engraved onto her person because of the environment she grew up in. Formerly known as the Demon King of Berserk Inferno, Asmodeus’ combat system was simple, direct and easy to read. So simple and direct that a martial artist would define her ugly combat style as savage and artless.
However, the fact that she maintained her simple combat system over the course of millennia and being able to keep her life and title meant it just works. After all, there’s no need for lies and trickeries when your might simply overwhelms your opponent’s. In the face of absolute strength, strategy and deception is worthless.
“It’ll be hard to hide my identity with a berserker on my side… I don’t want to expose myself due to your mistake.”
“No, Your Majesty, please… I beg you. I’ve completely digested Paimon’s dragon body and with it, her concept of lust. I’ve been learning the Stygian Succubus’ methods from her memory, and I can get my fury under control now, but in exchange, you… you’ll have to help me vent my emotions…” She blurted, burning shame decorate her tone.
Mordred shook his head. “Aftercare sex? Why the fuck are you acting like a virgin, are you reverting into your pre-demonic ascension self?” Despite his sharp comment, Mordred seriously considered her offer. Her combat strength is simply so high that if he can control her, she’ll make an excellent pawn-cum-assistant… whatever that word even means. “Fine, but I will only accept rank 0 split soul and you’ll have to wait until I make you a mortal shell. In addition, I still need you to grant my mortal shell a bloodline with some talent in ‘spirit’.”
There were no words coming from the blurry flames, but the Murloc who served as an offering immediately exploded into blood and gore. The murloc’s blood, however, did not manage to get too far before evaporating into pure energy. Even from different dimensions and not specialized in offerings, Asmodeus’ method is still powerful enough to turn the Murloc’s blood-soul energy into a channel.
A new demonic entity announced themself before Mordred. “Your Majesty the Great Archmage of Morgen World, Purgatory World’s Ancient Devil King of Death Tyrant, Slayer of Tartarus Penal World’s Immortal Warden, it is I, Astaroth, a Great Duke under the command of Demon King of Lascivious Purgatory, will offer you a wisp of my bloodline.”
“So that wasn’t Asmodeus’ offering methods but yours, Great Duke Astaroth.” Mordred frowned. “If I were to gain your bloodline, wouldn’t I be a Demon Warlock that served you?”
“Your Majesty, please be at ease. If I were to try anything of the sort, Her Majesty Asmodeus would obliterate my true body in Lemegeton, forcing me to reincarnate over again from the very beginning. Even now, Her Majesty has me in her palms, literally. Ancient Devil King of Death Tyrant, if I were to cause any dissatisfaction towards your honorable self, Her Majesty will punish me on your behalf.”
Since Asmodeus is completely under his control, she’ll serve as Mordred’s first line of defense against Astaroth. “Very well.”
In that moment, the channel transmitted a drop of black blood, burning in dark purple flames. The fire though, did not emit any heat as it is contained within a transparent barrier, but Mordred knew that if he didn’t accept it, sulphuric substances would grow in the surrounding due to the dimensional laws of this area being altered by the radiation.
“Astaroth, why did you send your ichor?” Mordred wanted to scold the archdemon.
The blood of a rank 5 being, especially a demonic one, is typically as hot as the plasma matter on the surface of a burning star. Depending on Astaroth’s cultivation, her drop of blood would be able to terraform thousands of kilometers of area into a demonic environment. If Mordred were to accept it, it wouldn’t be strange for him to experience demonization; to become an archdemon himself.
“Fret not, Your Majesty, it has been diluted several hundred times of its original purity. According to your requirements, it’ll barely propel your mortal shell’s ‘spirit’ talent into ‘grade-S’ without suffering from side effects...”
“It’s too much to the point of being redundant.” Mordred is very tempted to throw this ichor away because having a grade-S spirit talent in this mortal shell is something that he didn't need. But then again, if he wastes this ichor, the blood would terraform the world and invite the attention of Demon Hunters, something that he couldn’t accept. “What do you want in exchange?” He knows that Astaroth’s ‘gift’ has a string attached. After all, to give the ‘diluted’ version of her archdemon bloodline yet still strong enough- no, precisely diluted to grant grade-S spirit talent to Mordred’s mortal shell meant it used up something precious from her true body.
“As expected of Your Majesty. I heard from Her Majesty Asmodeus that your current Mortal Shell is but a temporary flesh suit. I humbly desire your Mortal Shell after you’re done with it… The former Mortal Shell of the Ancient Devil King of Death Tyrant is an extinct research material that I could never get my hands o-” Astaroth’s was suddenly cut off, and Mordred belatedly realized that Astaroth likely stepped out of Asmodeus’ boundaries after the sounds of choking could be heard over the channel.
“Asmodeus, it’s fine. Don’t punish her.” Mordred plucked the floating drop of ichor and put it into his mouth, ignoring his rapidly scarring hand which got ignited in dark purple flame the moment he touched it. Swoosh! After swallowing it, his whole body was immediately consumed by the fiery conflagration of purgatory flames, lapping at his skin for a moment before blood red demonic runes manifested on his body, wrapping him like a mummy to protect him from the destructive nature of the demonic flames.
Mordred’s body entered a period of alteration as he convulsed uncontrollably. Crimson tears started to flow from his eyes, through his cortex, as Mordred could feel his Sea of Consciousness being forcefully widened and altered by the archdemon’s bloodline. Flashes of Astaroth’s memories are being ‘inherited’ through bloodline because this is, in a sense, can be considered a genetic inheritance that alters one’s spirit talent.
Any other mortals would be enslaved by the Great Duke’s memories, but Mordred had an extreme immunity towards usurpation since this is one of his specialties. One doesn’t enslave rank 6 beings en masse without being heavily resistant to it yourself.
It was only after the first glint of morning sunlight licked over his face that he had awoken from his stupor, the demonic runes had completely seethed into his skin, leaving it unblemished as if the burning blood flames weren’t even there. The sulphuric stench of the cave had disappeared as Astaroth, to her credit, was diligent enough to utilize numerous methods through her blood to erase the trace of every single demonic presence. Even if one used a time-path method to see the past, it would appear as if this cave was empty.
“Why are you here?” Mordred suddenly spoke as he sobered from the sensation of growth, sensing two lumps of semi-translucent purple-red soulfires the size of eyeballs orbiting his head.
“Your Majesty, allow me to explain…” One of the soulfires transmitted the voice of Astaroth. “This is Scenario-3, where you have used a death-mitigation method and lost a large portion of your memories in the process. According to your arrangement, Her Majesty Asmodeus will send a split soul which has passed your rigorous tests and specifications to serve as your assistant, but due to the limitation of her specialty as a combatant, she cannot provide support in most of your endeavors. Therefore, you assigned me under her to compensate for her weakness: we are a pair.”
“Asmodeus, is that true?” Mordred glanced at the other soulfire.
“That is correct, Your Majesty. The Great Duke is an archdemon: an epic-rank warlock, her magical research is considered top-notch amongst the warlocks of Purgatory World, she will cover my lack-”
“I know her specialty.” Mordred cut her off. “Has your main soul activated the countermeasure against the karmic retaliation of Morgen World?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Asmodeus replied. “While you were unconscious, she erased her and Astaroth’s main soul’s memory, they should be unaware of our existence until we fulfill certain conditions that even myself didn’t know.”
“Excellent. Then, you two will have to wait in my Soul Phylactery. I’ll refine a mortal shell for you each in the future. You two can observe the world through my senses, so bear with it for now.” Mordred plucked the two semi-translucent soulfires and swallowed them.
He hummed to himself in the desecrated cave as he processed them. This was a rather pleasant day, all things considered.