As clouds drifted past the two moons, Mors and Verz stood facing each other, one prepared to fight to the death at a moments notice, the other's eyes showing a slightly confused expression as her gaze flickered to the bloody horns on the ground.

"I said we need to talk," repeated Verz coldly, "or are you tired of living? Even with that movement skill of yours, you will not be able to escape."

Small wisps of black mist flowed around Mors' body, ready to activate, as he absorbed the ambient mana from the darkness around him. "I am listening, am I not?"

Verz took a step forward, her silver eyes sparkling dangerously through the standard Huntsmen mask. "So why does it seem you're preparing for a fight?"

"Let's end the facade. You are here to question me and, depending on my answers, kill," hissed Mors. "You and the rest suspect me of being a Sun Clan infiltrator, and seeing as a requirement to join the Huntsmen is to hate them so much a tranquillity stone turns red, it's easy to work out that all this hatred is not entirely due to being a demon or Ethemeusa's death."

Verz chuckled. "So, the little demon has grown up a little and started to use his grey matter. Though you're a little off. I was going to remove your head from your body the moment you left this sacred place but, after witnessing your little show," Verz pointed to Mors' horns. ", now curiosity is getting the better of me. I know it's foolish, but I suddenly have the urge to hear you out."

Mors sneered. "To be honest, I am surprised it has taken you this long to act. It must have been hard not moving when you think you have a Sun Clan infiltrator, one that has caused the death of someone close to you, right under your nose."

The light in Verz eyes hardened. "If I truly believed you capable of such a feat, You would be dead, however, I need answers and if you wish to live, you will give them to me."

Mors shrugged, completely indifferent to the threat. "Depends on the question."

"Careful demon, your life is in my hands," snarled Verz, her hand cracking menacingly as she clenched it.

Mors's blindfold crinkled as he genuinely smiled. "Your threats will not work on me... mortuus vivens. There are more things in heaven and earth than you can possibly fathom; my existence being one of them."

In an instance Verz was in front of Mors, a knife held to his throat. "Ho, so you finally had the nerve to say it. I was starting to think you didn't have the balls. I warned you what would happen."

A thin trickle of blood fell from Mors' neck as he pressed into the blade, his smile twisting into an insane grin as the air crackled and the black mist formed into small black bolts, seemingly tearing the air. "So we're skipping the foreplay and going straight for the main course? Excellent, I was getting bored."

Verz let out a deep breath as she stepped back and sheathed her dagger. "I hate dealing with demons. Your kind always manages to confuse death with pleasure when it suits them."

Verz analysed the imp in front of her. She had not seen him since Ethemeusa's funeral, and although she had read the reports of those tasked with monitoring him, she still could not believe what she was seeing.

Mors tattered clothing did little to hide the majority of his skin, displaying many dark bruises and large, swollen cuts but this was not the most shocking thing.

Four weeks ago, Mors had been a skinny, underweight child but now, although he still had the same height as a youngling, firm muscles tensed and rippled across his body as they consistently made minute changes to his stance in response to Verz own subconscious movements, their bodies subtly twitching in a silent standoff, each trying to get the advantage over the other.

This sort of change should take months if not years of rigorous training and lots of combat experience yet, even that was paled by the the feeling she was getting from his concealed eyes. For the first time in her life, she instinctually felt threatened and it increased her curiosity to no end.

It seems that he has been doing more than just mindlessly fighting trolls in a rage and sulking by a grave. When I get back, I am going to cripple them damn scouts.

Clearing his throat, Mors scratched the pale scar on his face. "I do not have time for this, so I will summarise the facts."

"You get info on a being that should not exist in this world, one that is not controlled by fate, making him the perfect weapon for your grudge war against the Sun Clan. You go to find him and when you do, the demon is weirdly clingy to you. A person which every living animal should naturally feel repulsed at and avoid."

Verz subconsciously grimaced a bit.

"The demon causes enough trouble and disturbances that following them would not be a hard for anyone with half a clue. Then during an ambush that should have been no threat to your team, he runs off into the woods and is followed by someone who, the demon recently learnt, could not leave a child in danger due to her own past traumas."

"The weak demon runs into a trap, but manages to survive the initial skirmish yet, the lieutenant that followed him, only second in strength and power to the Captain herself regarding offensive power, is pretty much killed instantly. Nine out of ten times, the demon would have been dead the moment he entered the woods and his surviving up until this point could be considered a miracle but what happens next is beyond belief."

"The self-proclaimed leader of the assassins, a foxkin from the notoriously merciless Sun Clan, instead of killing the demon the moment the opportunity arose like even a mediocre assassin would, decides to talk so loud anyone with sensory abilities in five hundred meters would here, declaring the demon to be their target and wasting enough time for someone to appear and, conveniently save the demon."

"Then, even more bizarre, though it was already proven that he had the strength to incapacitate a powerful opponent with a single, instantaneous spell, instead of completely his mission, or even firing a single spell in the demon's direction, he ordered a full retreat."

"Conclusion. The demon had been planted to cause damage from the inside and lure one of the Huntsmen into an unfavourable position and it worked. They had managed to eliminate one of the cornerstones of the Huntsmen and, achieving what they needed to do, they half-heartedly tried to provide some cover for their infiltrator as it didn't hurt to try."

Verz eyes were locked on Mors. "Not exactly what I was thinking but pretty close. So why don't yo-"

Mors continued. "Now, let's look at things from the demon's point of view. His soul was torn from another world, intentional or not by the selfish whims of others and forced into a foreign, unnatural body forced to fight for his life upon his first breath. Barely managing to survive, aided by some foreign, one-time power, a group of five people conveniently appear when he is about to collapse and try to act friendly. Then he falls unconscious and has... visions, telling him to trust and follow these people."

"Waking up, he tries to find more information as he has this unnerving feeling that what is happening can't is real, only to be attacked on sight by the first people he sees. Convenient isn't it? To be a creature that everyone is immediately hostile against so he can't gain any information on his own and has to rely on his saviours."

Mors tries to remain calm however it's clear that he is slowly losing control as he becomes more emotional.

"Anyway, once again, strange.... memories assault his senses, and he somehow survives. Once everything is over, guess who shows up again to 'save' him. His previous saviours and it was at the most perfect moment when, once again, he can barely do anything but fall on the floor. Oh, I forgot that, one of them keeps saying they have the best senses in the natural world, so how did they not realise what was happening to him sooner? If they couldn't then how could they turn up at the end? Well, it didn't matter because before he could completely ponder this, he felt this weird connection, causing him to fall asleep, pushing the niggling questions to the back of his mind."

Mors paused for a moment. "Then, he was taken to this ice fortress. There he is told that, if he doesn't want to be used as some sort of sex slave, he would have to fight which only seemed to surprise him. Everyone else seemed to know. Yet, again the idiotic demon just goes with the flow and somehow manages to win before once again... collapsing. It seems these people that were concerned with his welfare, including their healer, failed to notice that he was cold blooded and happily watched as he nearly killed himself by using magic that sped up the process."

Mors' face was twisting in anger as he ground his teeth. "THEN, he has another fucking vision telling him to connect to people, make bridges... not to isolate himself. It seems every time he passes out and you guys rescue him, he has some sort of hallucination telling him how great and awesome you are, and that he needs you. Once again, really bloody convenient in a world full of magic, where causing illusions and affecting the mind doesn't seem impossible, don't you think?"

Mors' breathing was getting ragged as he let out everything he had been thinking over the last few weeks, completely switching to referring to himself in the first person. "Then we are ambushed by the very people that caused me so much pain. You, the so-called legendary Huntsmen, the Bloodhound, feared throughout the world for your battle prowess and intelligence... ambushed right next to your own bloody territory and while you conveniently disappear into the woods, guess who I should smell. That fucking bastard that escaped while laughing in the summoning pit."

Mors stopped as he tried to compose himself, He could feel the anger building up and desperately tried to keep it under control. The desire to destroy everything, to burn the world to the ground around him swelled upwards while his heartbeat echoed in his ears.

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Verz was watching Mors intently but did not speak, her previously hostile stance had somewhat weakened as her animalistic instincts. the ones that had saved her so many times, told her that everything Mors was saying was the truth.

"So... the one who had looked after me. Who showed genuine concern even though initially she avoided me like the plague, without a moment's hesitation chased me as I lost myself to my hatred and desire for revenge, sacrificed her life to save mine. Even as her soul left her body, she didn't even have an ounce of hatred towards me."

Verz had existed longer than most, and during that had felt fear and terror many times but as Mors spat the last words out in hate, it felt as if a mountain was bearing down on her and every nightmare she had ever had or experienced erupted forth, wanting to consumer everything that she was.

As the aura disappeared, almost as soon as it appeared, Verz found herself shaking violently, struggling for breath.

Not noticing Verz change in behaviour, blood streamed from Mors' hand as he clenched them tightly, his nails easily cutting his flesh. "Even though my mind tells me that it could have been an act or some sadistic plot, I feel that Ethemeusa was only true to herself and her nature. That is the only reason I am still here and willing to talk to you. That and, as you have overheard, I have some... commitments."

Mors sighed, his face returning to its emotionless state. "So, there are only four possibilities.

One - this is all coincidence and bad luck.

Two - I am a Sun Clan spy.

Three - The huntsmen are manipulating me for their own agendas. Well, you are doing that anyway if anything I know is true.

Four - The Sun Clan know that killing me is pointless and so, aims to make me mortal enemies with the Huntsmen. Not only robbing them of a useful tool and restricting my growth without losses but weakening you at the same time."

"What do you mean, killing you is pointless? And what makes you think you could weaken us?" enquired Verz. She had thought about the first three options, but something had felt off and thus had made her keep her distance as she waited to see if Mors would reveal something. She did not actually intend to kill Mors here, thinking that if she was not satisfied with his answers, she could let him escape after a small fight and then have her scouts follow him.

Mors shrugged. "Well, that is only a theory at the moment. I will need to get hold of a status stone to confirm it seeing as, at the moment, I do not trust a single thing, not even my own senses. This is the world with magic, and as such, anything could be possible."

"Hold out your hand, palm towards the floor," ordered Verz after thinking for a few moments.

Without the slightest hesitation, Mors held up his hand.

Taking a small, metallic orb the size of a tennis ball from her pocket. Verz placed it on the top of Mors' hand and said in a clear, authoritative voice. "Bind."

Instantly, black and red mist rose from Mors' skin, encircling the ball before starting to merge, small blue sparks flickering from the orb. After a few seconds, a small metal spike formed underneath the ball, piercing Mors' skin before the entire ball turned to what appears to be liquid and was sucked in, creating a small, almost unnoticeable bulge just above Mors' wrist.

Mors flexed his hand in discomfort, the cold, stiff liquid moving about underneath his skin. "You know that because it's you that has done this, I can't trust a word it says right?"

Verz laughed mirthlessly. "I am not doing this for you. You can't falsify anything on a status plate, so this is pretty much the defining factor in your future. Now give me your card."

Mors looks confused. "It's under my skin. What do you want me to do, cut it out?"

Verz sighed. "Say 'Status Reveal'."

"Status Reveal," echoed Mors in irritation, and almost instantaneously, a black liquid, containing specs of red seeped from his skin before being pulling together and forming a solid, metal-like plate.

Due to the blindfold, Mors could not see exactly what was going on or any of the blue words slowly forming. To his alternative vision, the status plate looked like a glowing, red square matching his own body temperature.

To Verz, the plate appeared to be black with a few streaks of red running through it. Taking the plate before Mors could even flinch, she started reading the blue runes that had formed shortly after it solidified.

Her eyes darted from side to side, then up and down a few times before sighing. "Well... even though I don't quite believe what I am reading, It appears this time my curiosity might have saved me from an explosive arrow. What a terrifying concept, A wrath demon that retains its memories when it reincarnates."

Locked - The host is subconsciously restricting information on skills and abilities.

Restricted - The Hosts deity has restricted information.

All information excluding title and summary have been locked.

Name: Mors Letus

Title: ????’s Champion

Race: Draconic Demon

Type: Imp (1)

Subtype: Wrath Terror Demon

Available Evolution Options: (4)

Fame: Cursed Existence

Job: None

Class: Berserker, Assassin

Affinities: Darkness (92%) - Fire (88%)

Rank: Copper - Knight - 5 Star

Virtues: None Sins: Wrath, Pride

Status: Psychological

Status: Physical

Status: Spiritual

Emotions Repressed

{Locked}

Sleep deprived (82%)

Recuses thought processes and motor skills.

Unstable

A combination of other status effects has made the host mentally unstable. Psychological defences greatly reduced.

Unstable Heritage

{Locked}

Exhausted 

Host is exhausted, effectiveness of all abilities and skills reduced.

Injured

* Sprained Ankle (Left)

* Fractured Ribs (3/12)

* Fractured Arm (Right)

* Concussion (Light)

* Bleeding (Head/Torso/Right Leg)

* Bite Wounds (Torso/Right Leg)

* Shoulder (Left - Foreign body x2)

* Horns (Removed x2)

* Right wing (Broken Bone x3)

Foreign Objects

* Status Stone

* Poison Arrowhead x2 (Nullified)

Evolution Nearing

The Host’s has nearly met all requirements to evolve and so it’s body has started preparing. Mana and nutrition requirements tripled.

Ancient Soul (2/??????????)

{Restricted}

Immortal Soul  (+)

The host’s soul has passed the point of ascension and has gained the ability to retain memories of previous lives, immediately re-entering the reincarnation pool. Previous memories are currently suppressed by hosts chosen deity.

Fragmented Memories

{Restricted}

????’s Champion

{Restricted}

Undying  (+)

While ????’s Champion, due to the deities power, the host cannot die unless critical organs are destroyed or incapacitated.

Angelic Pact - Veronica Brightmoon  (+)

Host is lacking information to provide details. Information can be unlocked as the host’s knowledge expands.

Demonic Blood Pact - Daniel Rynheart.  (+)

Host is lacking information to provide details. Information can be unlocked as the host’s knowledge expands.

Demonic Soul Pact - Self

{Locked/Restricted/Lacking Information}

Skills

Abilities

Racial Traits

Shadowstep

{Locked}

Dragon's Breath

{Locked}

Dragon's Gaze

{Locked}

Draconic Aura (Repressed)

{Locked}

Demonic Aura (Repressed)

{Locked}

Wrath’s Domain

{Locked}

Soul Domain 

{Locked}

Corrosive Blood

{Locked}

Draconic Transformation (Rank 1){Locked}

The Last  (+)

{Forcefully unlocked by diety}

Having existed countless millennia, you are destined to outlast time itself, and so are or will be the last of many things. Due to your unique soul, you are able to inherit skills and abilities, even those with restrictions, from those who are the last of their kind, ensuring their legacy is never extinguished.

Immunity

* Fire (88%)

* Darkness (92%)

Progenitor  (+)

The host is the first of their kind. Having the purest of blood, enhances physique, skills and abilities.

Soul Split

{Locked}

Soul Destruction

{Locked}

Timeless Apex Predator (+)

The host's body is a living weapon and as the host gains experience, will mutate to become even more deadly.

Mark of Wrath (Rank 1) (+)

When the target had earned enough of the Hosts hatred, they will gain a mark which will inform the Host of their location. Higher ranks will provide more debuffs to the target and more benefits to the Host.

Improved Regeneration  (+)

Having multiple bloodlines that specialise in their regenerative and healing abilities, the host can naturally heal from most injuries and regrow lost limbs.

Verz tried tapping the '+' but as expected, as it was locked, it did nothing. Taking a few minutes to absorb what she had learnt, she about to speak when she froze, and after a few seconds, Verz quickly looked at Mors' racial abilities again. "The last... What in the seven hells and four heavens!"