I am alive.

The disappointment that weighs with that realization can't be as heavy as whatever's spread over my back, covering my every spot. I can't breathe and so my suffocation is immortal, as I am.

I let myself stew in the disappointment as I choke, what else is there to do? What else should I do? Questions gone unanswered, as King's absence is almost as loud as my still living.

A single finger twitches underneath the weight of the dirt mound I'm buried under; it's not like I never thought of what I'd do should I be free of the [Soul Crystal]. I did, I had a lot of thoughts, plans to give King a taste of her own medicine, plans to grow as strong as needed so I never have to be trapped again.

It's the first time since the pact that my body is my own again, and I want nothing more than not to move. Not to breathe. Not to think.

Ambition? Did I ever have any of the sort? Didn't I end up in this mess fighting for someone else dreams and desires? When was the last time I set my own path?

King, Calridian, Lumina, Valery… what do I have in common with any of these people? Accidents, misunderstandings, and the trappings of chance encounters. Encounters that went on longer than they ever should have.

I don't want that anymore. I just want… I just want…

The shroud's persistent questions ring in my head. What am I fighting for? Should I even fight? I am sick of destruction and loss. Vampires, Gods and Kings, Humans or Demons, I've fought them all and nothing has changed. The battle continues, the war rages endlessly as this world is that.

I should have known. I should have… no, it's a thousand years too late for regrets. There's nothing bringing back that life, nothing fixing it, nothing saving me from the path that has me buried in this city.

Enough moping. What should I do? What do I want to do?

First, I curl my fingers and lift my fist; the sand I'm buried in is familiar, and not in a fond way. With both arms pushing forth, I dig myself out, poking my head out the top of the mound for the first real breath of air after a year of imprisonment.

In…. out.

Blinking, I have a cursory look around and find the mound of sand carries all the way from the bottom of the cathedral ruins with its top lining up with the broken, burning walls of Kyis.

Smoke plumes from all over the city and even more sand piles across, drowning the streets and burying homes, stores, and even towers. It's all too familiar.

"Reais?"

I dig myself out completely and find I'm still in King's form. Scowling, I pull on Essence to rectify that, only to meet resistance. My flesh folds and molds, shading and growing until everything is just right, except it does so immensely slower than my high level [Somatic Manipulation] and [Full Mimic] should be capable of.

Could my time away be affecting my Essence abilities? I give [Mesmer] a try, reaching out to my surroundings in search of the closest living, thinking being, and my mind touches several in my direct vicinity, but no further than a couple yards out.

Although there's something wrong with Essence, there's a lot of distress around me—each mind I touched with [Mesmer] was in a state of panic and distraught. I'm not sure how long I let myself stay buried, but I do know Valery's siege of Kyis ended long before King executed the spell.

Whatever is happening here is new.

I set out to figure out the problem with Essence later and leap down the sand pile, using [Mesmer] to track the nearest thinking being. Bounding out through the tall bridges of sand to the slopes falling off of buildings, my body propels me through the air slower than I expect—another consequence of whatever's happened with my Essence.

The wind blows through my hair and billows the black veil of clothing King favored into my face. It's little more than a tight, short covering on me—she never needed anything thick, preferring to carry herself like the wind. I'll need to find something suitable to my body type, but for now I leap over sandy streets and alleyways, basking in the breeze of movement. However slow it is, it's better than nothing.

Vaulting over the side of a tower, I hold onto the ridge and scout Kyis from above. The burning areas are certainly points of interest for [Mesmer] as well as my ears, draw my attention to a screaming duo down below.

Somehow my eyesight is worse than ever, so I let go of the tower's ridge and sprint down its leaning side. As I approach the end, I recognize the duo as Humans from their scent alone. Their clothes are ragged and torn in all the places they have scabs and open wounds.

A young girl and a younger boy. Neither look like they played any part in Kyis's siege defense or the war, but that thought is proven wrong as the girl fishes out a handful of Crystals. Closing her fists around it, she has the younger boy keep running as she skids to a stop to face her torment.

A floating grotesque eye, tendrils hang under it, dragging against the dirt and sand. The back of the eye is guarded by a thick, black scab that forces it to hunch over and loom toward the girl.

By the scent, look, size, and the radiating crimson glow coming from its guarded back, it's unmistakably a Demon.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Letting out a cry, the young girl juices the Crystals with mana before lobbing it at the Demon. It's mobile in the air and dodges the spray of Crystals with serpentine ease, but not before they implode above, ahead and behind it, rattling its senses and sending a cloud of dust in the air.

Quick on her feet, the girl turns to run and join the young boy, who's beset with a challenge of his own and sprinting back to her, wailing.

Stalking behind him is another Demon; large, muscular, and red, with one clawed arm longer than the other. Its ears are long and perky, although a slice of one is missing and a short sword juts out of its neck.

Even with their prey cornered between them, the Demons size each other up before anything else. The floating eye slobbers, revealing a mouth far underneath all that eyeball and fleshy tendrils as the brute growls defensively.

Animals.

These have to be the Demons born of Reais, the ones born without of the Realm with their only purpose tied to their ravenous hunger for power. They're each at least a mid-tier Crimson, so I should have no issue feeding on them instead.

"Wekt." Mana carries through my body as I activate my invisibility and slide down. Quick about it, I sprint over to the most threatening of the two Demons, Essence warped around my arm.

Something smashes into me before I can spear through the brute of a Demon through, tossing me at its feet and mercy as invisibility is shaken off. A great pain radiates through me, greater than it reasonably should, considering I've got [Armored Form].

The brute growls. Picking me up by my hair, it breathes down at me, letting out a foul, pungent breath I'd think is poisonous otherwise. It moves to chew my head off, but I'm better than that and kick away from it.

Another blast scatters sand and rock beside me, forcing me to lunge back. The eyeball glows and shimmers with Essence, blasting out bolts of Essence from its eye, which is apparently capable of seeing through my invisibility.

With my speed, strength, and Essence abilities lacking for whatever reason, I'm almost immediately on the defensive. The eye and the brute seem to make a temporary truce and forget about the young girl and boy—who have taken the slightest distraction to escape.

Sucking my teeth, I let Essence flow as smoothly as it can through me. If I can't properly amplify its uses to break down these Demons, then I'll simply have to outlast the two.

The brute lunges, clawing out the ground where I stood a second ago as the eyeball shifts through the air for a better aim, blasting at me every chance it gets.

Even with the strange handicap, I'm still faster than both their attacks. Gathering mana, I utter, "Alhak za!"

Since King took over, she made a couple of changes to my traits and spells I have to say I'm satisfied with. [Minor Illusion's] cast range and effect is far greater, hence it's upgrade to [Greater Deception].

With it, the Demons see, smell, and hear several copies of myself and the young pair running around in circles, slashing and blasting fruitlessly. I even manage to get the eyeball to blast the brute.

Once it's down, I sprint out at it, narrowly avoiding a follow-up blast from the eyeball as I pluck the shortsword out of the brute's neck. It wails, then roars as blood spurts out of it like a fountain, tossing me off its body before I can add any additional injuries.

The shortsword's pommel has three pockets for Crystals, and two are already filled. I flood the sword with mana and a thin shimmer of light envelopes it, nothing special other than a razor mana edge—in Seeker's absence, it'll have to do.

The eyeball continues blasting at illusionary foes, so I make a dash for it. Shortsword in hand, I fuel my legs with as much Essence as I can manage and burst leap at its back. Landing on the black scab, the eyeball shrieks and burns Essence, releasing a steady blast of Essence in its confusion.

Like a laser, it tears up the earth, scorches sand, and topples unfortunate buildings in its eyesight as it tries and fails to shake me off. Pulling back the scab, I find its [Soul Crystal] hidden underneath in a stitch of flesh and even more tendrils.

Stabbing and digging in the opening with the sword, the eyeball screeches in agony, drooling blood and gunk as it hurtles itself to the ground. It's difficult getting a proper grasp on the slimy, oval Demon and even harder to pluck out its [Soul Crystal], as its outer tendrils recede and knot over each cut I make.

An arm finds my shoulder. Claws sink in as the brute rips me off the eyeball. Tossing me aside, the brute goes on to devour the fallen eyeball, gouging out the flesh of the eye in classic Demon behavior.

I let the brute gulp the eyeball down and pluck out the [Soul Crystal] before I make a move, darting up behind the brute with the shortsword burning with a mana edge.

The brute lashes out, but I duck underneath it, slashing at its ankles and leaping off the floor to kick it in its back. Stumbling, the brute loses the [Soul Crystal] before it can absorb it. Growling, it lunges itself at me—or rather the pillar it thinks is me.

Its head bashed in, I peer out from behind the pillar to stab and cut at the brute's thick neck, pouring Essence over the shortsword as well for added effect. The Crystals shatter as mana and Essence overwhelms them, but not before allowing me to retrieve the brute's [Soul Crystal], hidden deep within its long, snouted skull.

[Crimson Soul Crystal]- Lvl.8(9esq)

[Absorb] [Destroy]

Both [Soul Crystals] are about the same level, but it startles me I had such difficulty with them even with my current handicap. In hopes of resolving this little hurdle, I absorb both Crystals, letting their Essence flood my [Soul Crystal].

It's then that I notice the scar tearing across my [Soul Crystal]. With the [Soul Crystal] embedded in the gap between my collarbones I can't see much of what's happened to it, but as Essence floods it, I can feel the wound.

There's something else there, like a growing sore soaking up all the fluid, all the power—a good amount of my strength is siphoned into it. Wielding the shortsword's blade, I try to have a look, but it's not sharpened or clean enough to say for certain how deep the wound goes.

Despite absorbing both [Soul Crystals], I barely notice an improvement in my strength, but I figure it's about time I do a stat check.

Name: Nil

Race: Demon

Type: Transformed Deviant Soul

Age: Immortal – 36years, 5months

Crystal Essence: [Blood Orange]- Lvl.9— 4320 Esq

[Available Essence Points— 25]

Strength: 46

Agility: 61

Wisdom: 56

Abilities: [Faithless Absorption], [Faithless Mimicry], [Faithless Essence Amplification]

[Available Trait Points— 25]

Traits: [Armored Form]- Lvl.5, [Mesmer]- Lvl.5, [Psychic Barrier]- Lvl.2, [Somatic Manipulation]- Lvl.5, [Full Mimic]- Lvl.3

Ascension Perks: [Reais Fiend], [+]

Spells: [Invisibility]- Lvl.3, [Greater Deception]- Lvl.1

Patron: Lumina au Hescaria

[Blood Orange]- Lvl.9— 4320 Esq?

I'm taken back by the level—I'm nearly a Maroon-tier Demon!

Wait, then why am I weak as fuck?

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