Chapter 16: The First Contract
Oliver leaned in, breath slightly shaky but voice steady, and whispered into the demon's ear. Just a few words—but enough to freeze Accra mid-motion.
The demon's glowing eyes widened like burning coals. Slowly, he turned his head toward the boy.
"You… do you even understand what you're promising?" Accra's voice came low, almost reverent—an ancient rumble laced with caution.
Oliver nodded. "I'm promising to make you a Demon King."
The room fell into silence. Amid the death and dark Aether, even the shadows seemed to still.
Accra narrowed his eyes. "Explain."
"I understand your kind," Oliver said, voice firmer now. "Demons enjoy chaos, but you don't rise through it. You actually rise through fulfilled contracts. The more you complete, the more powerful you become. But it's not just about numbers—it's QUALITY."
He limped a step forward, pain coursing through the leg Sir Bolton had crushed and he had stabbed. But he didn't fall.
"A contract's quality depends on the bloodline of the contractor, the stakes involved, the power risked, and the clarity of the rules. A high-ranking contract is like a beacon. It's proof that you're worthy to ascend."
Accra's jaw tensed. He stared at the child like he was seeing something forbidden.
"No demon would reveal such truths to a human."
"And yet," Oliver said, "here we are."
Accra wasn't just shocked. No, he was curious. Oliver could see it. Those red eyes dilated and contracted, recognizing the truth in his words.
These weren't guesses. They were facts that Oliver had learned in his first life—before everything changed and he was sent back to the beginning.
Oliver had been a slave. He had been sold, traded, and even gifted until he reached the royal household of the Somara Empire. His mistress's consort was too lazy to study, so he made Oliver read for him—empire secrets, forbidden documents, journals of dungeon conquests, and failed demonic contracts.
He would spend endless nights so that he could summarize it all in the morning.
That's how Oliver had also learned the true nature of the Staff of Solomon—how he knew the inner workings of demons.
Of course, there were also the whispers of nobles here and there.
And that's how he recognized the name Accra the moment he overheard his father mention it back when he eavesdropped on them.
"I'll help you get SS-rank contracts that'll make even Demon Kings envy you," Oliver continued. "In fact, the promise I just made is already at least S-rank."
Accra's face twitched in surprise.
But then he spoke, his voice colder now. "And why should I trust you, child of ruin? Right now, you are less than an insect to me. Why should I stake my future on you?"
Oliver's heart pounded. This was it—the turning point. The demon was no longer dismissive. He was demanding proof.
So Oliver gave it.
"Because I know the truth, Accra. You only have one more chance to remain in this world. One failed attempt, and you'll be dragged back—to a dungeon if lenient, but possibly back to the Abyss if not careful."
Accra went still.
No one should've known that.
And yet Oliver did—because in his past life, Accra failed.
When a demon managed to fulfill the conditions for release into the human world, it was their quickest and best opportunity to rise in power. In the human world, contracts were the key.
But signing failed contracts would hurt the demon just as much.
A lot of things could ruin a contract. The contractor dying was one way. A demon going against a contract was another. Of course, this was as rare as a solar eclipse while the sun changed color to green. Demons simply weren't built that way—it was as hard as seeing a fish climb a tree.
There were, of course, other things that could cause the contract to fail on the human's end.
According to the future Oliver knew, Accra would later become trapped as he was sent back to a dungeon.
Consumed by rage, he signed hundreds of desperate contracts just to claw his way back into the human world. Rumors whispered that a botched contract with a human caused his exile.
And Accra wanted revenge. Considering the time gap and this meeting, it was safe to say Richie Von Rich was that human.
"You tried to snitch, didn't you?" Oliver said. "You leaked certain truths of the Alchemist's seal to the Somara Empire. You hoped they'd offer you a better deal. But they won't. You won't get a good contract. And the loophole you wanted to exploit... it'll ruin you."
Accra bared his teeth, a deep rumble in his throat—but he didn't deny it.
Oliver pressed on, voice calm but merciless. "You'll lose everything. Your access to this world. Your path to climb the demon ranks. Your dream of kingship. All because of one mistake."
The demon's stare turned sharp, then thoughtful.
And then, he smiled. He needed no more convincing. Oliver had struck at his heart. Even if he didn't want to sign a contract with Oliver, his need for opportunity pulled him, and Oliver was presenting incredible stakes—the likes of which he had never seen.
"Very well," Accra said darkly, amused. "...Let's make it official."
Those words were sudden. Of course Oliver wanted to sign a contract, but he had thought he would need more effort to convince a demon.
But looking at Accra, he could tell it was true what they said about him: Accra was not one to let opportunity pass, no matter how small it seemed. Also, the demon was desperate. If his contract with Richie Von Rich was going to be ruined, then why not have a backup plan?
At the very least, he could hold off returning to the dungeons and then think up a plan.
Black smoke spiraled upward, carving ancient runes into the air. A blood-red circle ignited beneath their feet, pulsing with dark energy.
"This will be a Rank S contract," Accra intoned.
"Terms are simple. I will not harm you. I will allow you to act freely. In return, you must secure me one S-rank contract within a year."
Oliver's eyes lit up, but he hid his excitement immediately. He had only been back in time a few hours, and he was already signing a Rank A contract.
Contracts were graded A–E, and then S and SS. Contracts were just as useful to demons as they were to humans.
Contracts affected one's bloodline. The more contracts of quality, the greater the bloodline limit that could be broken or refined. In some cases, contracts came with abilities tied to the conditions.
It was a kind of growth not many in this world knew about, and it was seen as heretical by the Somara Empire if the contract was with a demon.
They saw themselves as heirs of Solomon and therefore had very strict rules when associating with demons—unless, of course, the demon was already a slave of the Empire.
Also, by the time many people understood this kind of power, most opportunities were already lost.
Then again, they were not to be blamed. Demon contracts were destructive by nature.
But Oliver could care less. Right now, he had to get past Accra to reach the Alchemist's seal.
Oliver did not just step into the circle. He wanted more. One should always try to get the maximum benefit when dealing with a demon.
"And if I give you an SS-rank contract?" Oliver spoke with a bit more confidence. With his knowledge of the future, such a possibility could indeed arise.
Accra's grin turned suddenly sharp. "Then I pledge loyalty to you... as my Contractor."
Oliver's eyes gleamed.
"No. Not as 'your' Contractor. As my servant."
The demon froze for a heartbeat, then laughed—low and dangerous.
"Clever little prince. Very well." He agreed quickly, which made Oliver believe he hadn't put enough pressure on him, but it was already too late.
It was a short, brutal contract. Every word carved in blood.
"And if you fail..."
"You get my soul?"
Accra tapped a claw to his lips, then pointed at Oliver's forehead. "I don't want your soul. Where's the fun in that? I want... that."
Oliver blinked. "My head?"
"No. Something within it. A stain I can't see, but I feel it—burning inside your soul. You carry something not meant... for your time. Something... precious."
Oliver's gut clenched.
The demon could sense his memories from the future?
Of course he could.
Demons had a way of finding value no one else could even detect. This aided them in finding the best contracts. It was no wonder Accra had agreed immediately to the terms Oliver presented.
The value in the knowledge Oliver carried was just that high.
Their hands—one human, one clawed—reached out and touched.
The circle erupted in light.
Contract complete.
Oliver stumbled back, the residue of dark aether burning into his veins. But something had changed. He could feel it.
He was no longer just that desperate boy fleeing death.
He was now a Demon Contractor. The benefits of this would shock a lot of people.
In a world drowning in bloodlines and betrayal, he was finally climbing the ladder.
That would definitely make him...