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I watched as Zerkel shot a firework of colorful sparks into the sky. It was a signal that would bring a lot of people running here soon.
I stepped away from the spy, enjoying the old, familiar feelings of being a true cultivator again.
Having a first-class Spiritual Root wasn't just like having a powerful engine that sucked in energy from the world.
It was like seeing the world with new eyes.
Trying to explain this new way of seeing things would be like trying to explain the difference between a blue dress and a green dress to someone who could only see in black and white.
The Spiritual Root was like a door. When you opened it, even just a little, you could peek at the secret, hidden side of the world.
You could see the rules that held everything together, and you could see how everything was reflected in the shimmering colors of energy.
To see and understand all of that, you "only" had to get stronger. A lot stronger. And even then, you might not understand everything.
I enjoyed getting stronger, pushing my limits and bending the world to my will.
But I didn't want it to be the only thing in my life.
I had seen too many old men in the righteous sects who spent hundreds of years doing nothing but focusing on their own power.
In the end, all they had was empty strength. They had nothing to use it for because they had given up everything else in their lives to get it.
I had met fools who, in their chase for power, had given up the last little bits of themselves.
To me, they were even more pathetic than the hypocrites from the righteous sects.
They were just empty, angry things, like animals who only wanted to be stronger.
They had no big dreams, no passionate loves, no desire for revenge.
They didn't even have the simple curiosity that drove the necromancers I knew. But still, animals who only wanted power were very easy to control.
They were easy to point in the direction of my mother's enemies. When I thought about it that way, I had given meaning to thousands of pathetic lives.
I had given them a higher purpose. I made them useful. Ha. With thoughts like that, I could have been a pretty good righteous hypocrite myself.
But it was all for nothing. Because my mother was killed.
A sharp pain shot through my head. The old memories and feelings came rushing back. I grabbed my head, forcing myself to calm down using a breathing trick.
I waved away one of the healers who had run up, sending him over to the trash with the broken back.
I glared at the other demons, and my anger was enough to make them back away. I took a deep breath.
It wasn't all for nothing. Serving my mother was not pointless. I had gained experience, knowledge, and strength.
This time, she would not die. This time, she would be with me forever. I would make sure of it, no matter what it cost me or the entire world.
I straightened my back and started looking at the crowd of demons that had gathered.
I searched their faces, looking for any possible traitors or spies who might be a threat to me, or worse, to my mother.
At the very edge of my senses, which had suddenly grown much wider, a familiar presence appeared. It was moving toward me, very fast.
I turned to greet her properly, but all I saw was a flash of silver. In the next moment, the world went dark, and my head was pressed into something soft.
My mind, which had stopped working for a second, quickly figured out that the "object" blocking my sight and my breath was the chest of my mother—my sister in this life. My brain, however, had some trouble deciding what to do next.
"Infli, are you okay? Are you hurt? Who attacked you? Big sister will take care of them…" her worried voice said from somewhere above me.
It's soft and warm, I thought. Not a bad way to die, by suffocation… Wait. No. I can't die in my mother's arms. That would make her sad. And besides…
….
Rofocale Lucifuge looked at the two demons standing in his office with a calm, unreadable face.
The guard captain and the head butler stood with perfectly straight backs, their eyes respectfully looking at the floor.
They knew better than to be fooled by their master's calm appearance. The Right Hand of Lucifer was not the kind of demon who showed his anger by shouting or breaking things.
Even when the Four Great Rulers had fallen and the Underworld was about to be destroyed, Rofocale had continued to do his duties with his usual cold calmness, never letting any "unnecessary" feelings show on his face.
But that didn't make his anger any less scary. Instead of beatings and shouts, his anger came in the form of a simple stroke of a pen on a piece of paper.
After that, your chances of getting promoted were gone forever.
In the worst cases, the "lucky" person would simply disappear, with a note saying they had been "killed by the holy blades of the church."
"Can either of you explain to me," he said, his voice as calm as if he were asking about the weather, "why there were three strangers on my property for more than a day, one of whom had to be stopped by a ten-year-old child?"
He put down the papers he had just finished filling out and looked at his two top servants. Vyshot Ansted, the guard captain, spoke first.
"My lord, the captured demons were using powerful magic items with high-level illusions. A normal check of the servants wouldn't have found them.
The magical security system let them in because they had special identification amulets that were tied to real servants."
"And how did they manage to use those amulets?" Rofocale asked, his voice still dangerously quiet.
"The mages who set up our security sang songs about how safe those amulets were, and your guards were supposed to be watching them. Or maybe," he turned his cold gaze to the other demon, "the head butler, who is in charge of all the servants in the mansion, can explain to me how no one noticed that three servants who have worked here for more than ten years were replaced?"
The middle-aged demon with a few gray hairs in his brown hair flinched when his master spoke to him.
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Hey guys if u like the fanfic and want to read ahead by 5+ Chapters or just want to support take a visit on my patreon.
(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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