The Bottomless Abyss—the nexus of all evil across the multiverse, the antithesis of kindness, beauty, and innocence.
Here, there is no friendship, no familial bond, no love. Only betrayal, slaughter, and destruction reign supreme.
In the heart of this vile realm lies the Sea of Demonic Origin, also known as the Stygian River, which flows endlessly through the countless layers of the Abyss. It represents absolute death and stands as one of the most fundamental cornerstones of the multiverse. It devours all that comes near—even gods who so much as touch its crimson waters are consumed entirely. And yet, this cursed river is also the cradle of demons, spawning them endlessly and eternally.
From the blood-red stars above, a crimson light bathed the infinite, barren banks of the river.
As the tide of the Stygian River gradually receded, it left behind countless eggs.
Each egg was roughly half the height of a person, covered in crimson or pitch-black markings. They pulsed and throbbed, expanding and contracting rhythmically like a primitive heartbeat. If one listened closely, they could even hear the faint howls of the lifeforms inside.
Inside one of those eggs, a consciousness was slowly awakening.
"Kill... kill... hungry... kill..."
"Who... am I...?"
Instinct gave way to reason as fragmented memories surfaced in his mind—memories that seemed to belong to a man named Ryan Mercer.
The memories were disjointed, like watching a film from a third-person perspective. An utterly unremarkable film at that—mundane and forgettable, with nothing worth reminiscing over.
The newly born being instinctively rejected that kind of life, as if some part of him refused to accept that his existence was that meaningless.
Then, a voice echoed from deep within his soul:
At that moment, ancestral memories of a demon surged into his mind.
A long while later...
"I am not Ryan Mercer! I am Vareth Ogarion Xal'Thaz Orsaga!"
"I am a Demon!!"
With a feral roar, a pair of elongated claws lined with barbs tore through the shell of the demon egg.
Ryan Mercer—or rather, Orsaga—emerged from within, becoming the first to hatch among the clutch of demon eggs.
He stood at 1.4 meters tall, his head a fusion between man and wolf. His fangs were long and razor-sharp, his eyes devoid of pupils or sclera, entirely blood-red. He walked upright like a human, but had only three fingers per hand, all covered in scales and barbs. His fingertips gleamed like blades. A short tail lashed behind him like a whip, ending in a sharp, metallic tip—it was no mere ornament.
Staring up at the crimson stars, he clenched his teeth and growled,
"I, Orsaga, will never live a mediocre life...!"
A true name is the foundation of a demon's existence—it is everything. Every demon possesses a true name known only to themselves. If it is fully exposed, it becomes a fatal weakness. Thus, demons only reveal a portion of it for others to use.
The name "Orsaga", which he chose, meant "Black Sky" in the demonic tongue.
Hunger soon gnawed at his gut. His stomach acid burned as if eating away at his very flesh.
He glanced down at the eggshell fragments at his feet. His demonic instincts told him to eat it—it would be his first meal.
Though his human memories found the idea repulsive, he knew this was necessary.
Without hesitation, Orsaga tore into the eggshell, devouring it piece by piece. As he did, the soft, newborn scales on his body began to harden, as if undergoing a metamorphosis.
Before he could fully savor the sensation of growing stronger, a mechanical voice rang in his ears:
[Evolution System Activated]
A status screen appeared in the corner of his vision:
---
[Host]: Vareth Ogarion Xal'Thaz Orsaga
[Race]: Demon
[Rank]:Juvenile Demon
[Strength]: 5 (5)
[Speed]: 6 (5)
[Constitution]: 5 (5)
[Magic]: 6 (5)
[Soul]: 8 (5)
[Talents]:
• Soul Devour Evolution – Evolves through the consumption of souls.
• Slaughter Evolution – Evolves through combat and killing.
• Combat Instinct – Innate mastery of battle.
[Skills]: None
[Evolution Points]: 0
(Note: Numbers in parentheses represent the average stats of a newborn juvenile demon. Each additional point increases power by 20% relative to the previous level—for example, 6 is 20% stronger than 5, 7 is 20% stronger than 6, etc.)
---
Seeing this, and drawing on his memories from his past life, Orsaga instantly understood what it meant.
"A system? A golden finger...?"
His speed and magic were higher than average, likely indicating this body was naturally gifted in those areas. The 8-point soul strength was probably the result of fusing a human soul with a demonic one.
As he focused on the interface, a guide surfaced in his mind. He spent a moment digesting it and quickly grasped the system's core function:
Convert all energy from killing and consuming into Evolution Points, which are then used to enhance the self.
A flash of excitement flickered in his eyes, but he soon frowned.
"But isn't slaughter-based evolution already a natural trait for demons? Why does this system even matter?"
To test the difference, he disabled the system's absorption function, then walked over to another nearby egg. Picking up a large rock, he slammed it down, cracking open the shell to reveal an underdeveloped demon.
Though still incomplete, the creature glared at him with savage eyes, struggling to resist.
Orsaga punched straight through its skull, killing it instantly.
Using his demonic instincts, he grasped the intangible soul from the corpse and began to feast—devouring both flesh and spirit.
The wailing soul and crimson flesh became his nourishment, laying the foundation of his power.
While eating, he could feel the enhancement taking effect. It was the demon's innate ability at work—growth through killing and soul consumption.
Finished with the meal, he repeated the process, this time with the system's absorption enabled.
Just like before, he shattered another egg, killed the embryo inside, and consumed it.
Yet this time, he felt no immediate physical change.
Instead, the system displayed [Evolution Points: 15].
Ten points came from devouring the soul, and five from eating the flesh. In other words, the soul was far more valuable.
Orsaga closed his eyes and distributed the 15 points evenly across his stats. Once the process finished, he opened his eyes, now gleaming with delight.
"The system's conversion efficiency is about twenty times higher than natural demon evolution!"
This meant, with the same resources, he could grow twenty times faster than other demons—an advantage that normal demons could never even dream of. More importantly, beyond simply enhancing his stats, the system could eventually grant him a variety of powerful abilities, depending on how many Evolution Points he invested.
Realizing this, Orsaga turned his gaze toward the rest of the demon eggs.
He now understood—his first fortune as a demon would come from them.
He clearly remembered how still the eggs were when he first awakened. But now, some of them had begun to stir, a sign that more of his "kin" were close to hatching.
Moved by the situation, Orsaga made a simple adjustment: the system would now automatically use half of any gained Evolution Points to enhance his body and soul, and save the other half for future abilities.
Then, with rock in hand, he began smashing eggs one by one, starting from the closest.
Among demons, there is no concept of kinship—not even after gaining sentience. For juvenile demons driven purely by instinct, there is only survival. Only the strong can leave this riverbank and enter the deeper layers of the Abyss. The weak are either devoured by others or recycled when the Stygian River rises again. There is no third option.
Smack!
Smack!
The sound of eggs shattering echoed across the riverbank like someone breaking open raw eggs. The unhatched demons around him began to stir uneasily, sensing danger.
Orsaga didn't bother eating their flesh—it was too slow. Each meal took several minutes, far too inefficient.
Instead, he focused solely on harvesting their souls.
Souls were intangible. He could crush them into a ball and gulp them down in one bite. Efficient and effective.
Though only half the points were allocated to personal enhancement, the constant slaughter still made him noticeably stronger. The stone he once needed both hands to lift—he could now hold two in one hand.
The intoxicating sense of power thrilled him.
The crimson glow in his eyes deepened. The traces of humanity from his past life were slowly being eroded by his new demonic instincts.
And Orsaga—though aware of it—didn't care.
He was a demon of the Abyss now. Cruelty and rage would shape his character, but not his rationality. That was part of his very being.
Unlike humans, who are made of flesh and blood, demons are built from slaughter. Rage, greed, destruction—these emotions are not flaws, but foundational elements of who they are.
There is no such thing as a demon "untainted by the mud."
He is the mud.
He is evil itself.