Under Morgen's tense scrutiny, Wales's energy surged, growing stronger by the moment. The room was filled with an intense wave of power.
Several figures shrouded in cloaks lurking in the shadows remained on high alert, their eyes burning with anticipation. They were prepared to unleash ruthless attacks at the slightest suspicious movement.
Morgen observed Wales, who had closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He subtly signaled to Betty, who gripped her sword tightly, ready to unleash a devastating strike at any moment. His gesture deterred any immediate action from the northern royal family.
Despite Wales appearing unyielding at the moment, Morgen sensed that even if everyone in the room were to attack, they would be powerless against this formidable being with half-demon blood. It was an intuition rooted in the ancestral bloodline of the blood clan, an instinct that couldn't be deceived.
After ten tense minutes, the intense energy in the room subsided.
Morgen's gaze remained fixed on Wales's status panel, relieved to see that it still displayed a level beta plus attribute.
Fortunately, Wales hadn't broken through to become extraordinary.
However, there was a lingering discomfort. This experience had taught a valuable lesson: never boast without substance, as it could easily turn someone into an adversary.
Suddenly, Wales's scarlet eyes snapped open, emanating a brutal and bloodthirsty aura that filled the room with tension.
Morgen felt a jolt through his soul and swiftly shielded it with the power of faith. The cold, brutal aura dissipated instantly.
Wales's scarlet eyes, a manifestation of his abyss demon blood talent, possessed the unique ability to induce fear and disrupt the enemy's mental state. Failure to resist this gaze would result in mental chaos, greatly impairing combat effectiveness.
As Wales regained consciousness, instead of diffusing the tension, the atmosphere grew even more solemn. His unusual conduct had intensified the gravity of the situation.
Draped in opulent attire, Wales rose from his seat and advanced towards Morgen with deliberate steps, capturing everyone's attention.
The shadows shifted as several cloaked figures unsheathed their swords, poised to strike at any sign of hostility.
Meanwhile, the bald man in a black robe focused his magical energy, emanating an ominous presence.
Grot, positioned behind Morgen, tensed his muscles like a coiled spring, ready to unleash a devastating blow.
Betty assumed a predatory stance, her gaze fixed on Wales beneath her mask, her weapon gleaming with ominous light.
Even Amy, concealed under her mask, exuded a fierce aura.
In response to Wales's approach, Morgen remained composed, his gaze unwavering as he assessed the situation.
Meanwhile, Morgen activated the Shadow Jump, a spell he had learned from Amy. It would allow him to swiftly respond and assist his comrades in apprehending this dark boss should the heart-eating demon make a move.
Tension crackled in the air, thick as smoke from a smoldering fire. All eyes were glued to Wales as he advanced towards Morgen, his every step echoing in the stunned silence. This infamous Level beta plus demon, the heart-eater, the master of the Devil's Heart, the one with demon blood coursing through his veins – he bowed before Morgen.
"Mr. Ilo," Wales began, his voice surprisingly deep and respectful, "Wales wishes to express his utmost respect to you."
The room fell into a stunned silence, a heavy blanket of disbelief smothering every cough and whisper. "Your Excellency?" stammered the bald man in black robes, his magic sputtering and dying in his hands. He stared at Morgen, his eyes wide with incredulity.
To be addressed with such reverence by the Lord of Wales... could this seemingly ordinary vampire truly be...? The answer was evident in Wales's deference, his posture speaking volumes more than any words. But that wasn't all. The recent surge in Wales's power, fueled by the vampire's guidance, was undeniable. Such a feat was beyond the reach of mere mortals, a testament to the vampire's extraordinary abilities.
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The bald man's eyes widened in realization. He had always suspected the vampire was no ordinary being, perhaps even a rival to his own master. But now, seeing Wales bend the knee, he knew for certain. The vampire was far more powerful than he could have ever imagined.
This seemingly ordinary vampire possessed a power that transcended even Wales's formidable abilities. Witnessing his master bow before Morgen, the bald man realized the extent of the vampire's extraordinary nature, a revelation he had never before encountered.
Upon careful consideration, the bald man's expression transformed into a mix of wonder and reverence, prompting him to follow his master's lead and bow respectfully to Morgen's chest.
Respect for the strong was imperative, especially when faced with an extraordinary being like Morgen. The realization dawned on the bald man that this was no ordinary encounter; it was extraordinary indeed. Should Morgen choose to act, everyone present, save for Wales, would meet their demise. In the face of such overwhelming power, utmost respect was not just appropriate but necessary.
Several other shadowy figures in the room, concealed beneath cloaks, mirrored Wales and the bald man's gestures, lowering their heads in deference. In the underground world, folly was often met with swift consequences, and nobody wished to test their fate.
In mere moments, the atmosphere shifted from solemn anticipation of potential conflict to an atmosphere pregnant with deference.
Betty and Grot exchanged glances, their emotions roiling within them. They had readied themselves for a fierce battle, armed with the finest dwarf-made armor and weaponry, even bringing along magic scrolls they seldom used.
They had expected a showdown, but now...
The magnitude of the other party's influence, capable of instilling fear even with the slightest move in Green City, left them stunned. Yet here he was, seemingly on the verge of acquiescing to a mere level beta minus boss like Wales.
This...
Observing Morgen's composed demeanor, those present struggled to articulate their astonishment. The notion of divine lineage crossed their minds, contemplating whether the ancestor was truly the offspring of a creator god's blessing.
Even Amy found himself perplexed. Could the ancestor be the god of dawn incarnate, traversing from the kingdom of God to this mortal realm? The extent of his abilities left her questioning.
Morgen gazed upon the respectful Wales, a sense of relief washing over him. He was grateful for having abstained from revealing his full power.
With meaningful intent, he addressed Wales, "Do you comprehend?"
Straightening up, Wales responded with fervor, "Mr. Ilo, your teachings are invaluable. Your benevolence is worthy of divine praise. Under your guidance, I have glimpsed extraordinary power. It will take me merely five years, perhaps even less, to ascend to that realm!"
His excitement palpable, Wales continued, "Great Lord Ilo, from this day forth, you are the most esteemed guest of the Devil's Heart!"
Morgen exhaled, relieved that he had not yet unveiled his true potential. With five more years of development, he was confident he could surpass even a newly ascended extraordinary being.
"Yes, your talent may not be exceptional, but your unwavering thirst for strength sets you apart. Your journey to the extraordinary has been arduous indeed..."
Wales basked in the glory of being praised by a being capable of wielding the faith of the gods of light.
"Mr. Ilo, it's an honor to be acknowledged by you," he humbly expressed.
Under Morgen's tutelage, Wales felt a surge in his dormant strength, propelling him closer to the extraordinary threshold he had been unable to reach for a century.
At this moment, Wales held no doubt about Morgen's power. He regarded him with utmost respect and reverence.
To be instructed by such a formidable being seemed like a blessing from the goddess of luck, a divine favor bestowed upon him by the abyss.
Even if someone were to claim that Morgen was merely a level beta minus vampire, Wales would vehemently refute it. In his eyes, such greatness could only be surpassed by that which lay beyond the extraordinary.
Morgen watched Wales, a flicker of amusement playing on his lips. He knew the human heart craved narratives that fit its desires, readily accepting convenient truths over harsh realities. Thus, he crafted his words carefully, his voice dripping with a feigned piety.
"The extraordinary, Wales," Morgen began, his gaze steady, "is but a stepping stone. A mirage shimmering in the desert, beckoning you forward. But remember, the true oasis lies beyond, in the eternity we all strive for. Never lose sight of your initial purpose, the fire that ignited your journey. The path to true power is not a linear sprint, but a winding labyrinth, each turn etched with choices and consequences."
He paused, letting his words sink in, watching the awe bloom on Wales's face. Was it genuine enlightenment, or merely the intoxication of a desperate man clinging to a lifeline? Morgen couldn't be sure. Perhaps the truth, like power itself, was subjective, a kaleidoscope refracted through individual desires.
"Extraordinary is a label, not a destination," Morgen continued, his voice low and enigmatic. "Remember your origins, Wales. The path you traverse has a beginning and an end, and every step carries a weight. Choose wisely, for the consequences of ambition can be as alluring as they are treacherous."
Wales stood there, his mind swirling. Morgen's words resonated, offering both clarity and ambiguity. Was this the wisdom of a god, or the veiled manipulation of a master player? The uncertainty gnawed at him, yet he couldn't deny the allure of the path laid before him, a path shrouded in power and purpose.
Mr. Ilo's wisdom transcended mortal comprehension. His profound yet accessible teachings could only be grasped by someone of his caliber, unbound by the constraints of conventional wisdom.