Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

With a long, weary sigh, his hand trembled as they ran over his stat panel to distribute his points.

Name:

Adam

Race:

Draconic asura

Affinity:

chaotic, demonic energy

Talent:

c grade (Upgradable): I'm a gamer!

Job:

/

Class:

Chaos Druid

LVL:

48

Exp:

58450/289000

HP:

9680/9680

Vitality:

595->643 (+325)

Strength:

595->643 (+103)(+325)

Agility:

595->643 (+112)(+325)

Chaotic demonic essence:

1476

Free attribute points:

144->0

Items:

Beginner legionnaire's short sword +15, name change ticket, Parchment of Absolution, city relocation ticket, Crystalline magic staff (fused weapon), Soul binding stone, Storm bow, return scroll, Fragment of the hell's ruler throne.
Experience tales at empire

Once done, he clutched his forehead, a deep frown creasing his brows.

"So much pain for just a level." His lips twisted, the risks taken crushing the lackluster reward under the layers of grim and dark blood coating his armor.

Then, he gazed at his missing hand and massaged his eyes. "Can't wield my legionnaire sword or the bow. All I can do is hope the witch has good intentions, or..." His voice trailed off, a weight pressing against his chest as the return scroll condensed in his hand. "Give up on Karna and waste a return scroll to escape alone."

No matter how much he wanted to save him, the acidic scent of the ant colony replaced the crypt's decay, reminding him of a painful lesson.

Luna's disdainful voice resounded in his ears next, making the memory come to life and causing his teeth to crack.

Knuckles whitening, he hurled his fist against the ground, leaving a fuming hole in the rotten slabs as his voice echoed.

"I can't die as the lord. I know it, but still! Can I abandon loyal subjects? Especially Karna?"

His fingers twitched around the scroll's rough parchment, crumpling it as doubts waltzed in his drumming heart.

However, a steely glint flashed in his firming eyes a second later. There was only one possible answer. Everything else was distractions, useless noises veiling the unmistakable in a comforting mantle of good yet consequence-heavy intentions.

Too many expectations pressed on his shoulders—his subjects' peaceful lives, Luna's desire to turn a new leaf after her vengeful quest, and Tiamat. Oh, Tiamat, his silent pillar of support who fought tooth and nail to help him despite her diminished powers.

His heavy sigh shattered the deadly silence as the uncertainties plaguing him subsided and a sliver of warmth spread in his pounding chest.

"I can't let her down. Not when she bet everything on me."

He pushed himself off the ground, his fist tightening on the scroll.

Hope still flickered despite the disturbing wailings reverberating through the room's gate. Maybe he wouldn't need to use it, but the resolve to do so already burned in his eyes. His promise came first, Luna second, then the rest.

With determined steps, he walked to the last room, trepidation melding with alertness in his narrowed eyes.

As he did, the Queen of Magic's eyes burned brighter than ever.

She pushed herself off her frozen throne, the intricate arrangement of leaves on her dark dress fluttering with the movement. Her purple butterfly wings spread open, golden dust swirling around her as her lips curled into a rare, motherly smile.

"To spare all that you cherish, you cleaved your hand to sever the madness encroaching on your soul. Such ruthless resolve! Admirable!" She clapped her slender hands, the sound warming her frozen dwelling. "And what devotion! Your budding skills and resolve have proven far more captivating than I anticipated. Go on, then! Only a single room remains before you reach me."

She raised her hand and peered into the bright stone, her sparkling amethyst eyes watching a sleeping white-haired boy.

All the darkness, manipulations, and cruelty that painted her name in myths melted before the gentle features of the son she loved so much but always failed to get along with. Worse, their different views and beliefs forced them onto different sides of the same battlefield. Mother and son, yet enemies, trying to imprison each other.

"I hope we'll fix our relationship through this little demon. I'm sure you'll appreciate him like you appreciated that boy king."

However, her eyes narrowed into icy slits the next second as she felt the malice seeping out of the fragment permeate the crypt's air.

She spun, her gaze piercing the layers of time-consumed rocks to land on Adam's severed fist.

Still clutched, it vibrated in the scarlet pool, yet no more blood streamed from the wound. Instead, her nose wrinkled as she noticed the slight throbbings and heard the faint twitches of shifting muscles.

"Unlike me, your immeasurable pride won't allow you to give up."

She bit her lips, memories swirling in layers of ice and buried deep under a desolate frost tundra stirring in her mind.

"We both lost." She exhaled sharply, reinforcing the icy seal and waving her hand. "Remain chained in the cosmic depth they threw you in. You have no place in this world anymore!"

With her words, a dark pillar engulfed the room Adam had just left.

Embodying death in its purest form, it devoured the hand, rising and crashing against the ceiling. Divine wisps shining golden swirled, raising the spell's potency to a level incomprehensible to mortals.

A thick scent of death and decay spread. The scales and muscles rotted and dissolved in the blink of an eye, revealing ivory fingers still refusing to let the fragment go.

However, she frowned when she didn't see them turn into dust and felt the infernal resistance the malice tried to conjure.

"You won't incarnate through his hand! Begone, devil!"

Frost joined the dance of energies, bringing winter's death into the pillar.

Faced with the relentless assault, the fingers froze solid, cracks spreading like spiderwebs on their pale blue surface as decay submerged them.

Soon, they shattered and swirled with the energy. Yet, the fragment remained.

Pristine, untouched, almost mocking her efforts, it shone amidst the darkness before it vanished in a flash of ominous scarlet flames.

"Ah, what a tiresome trinket." She raised the back of her hand to her brow, dropping back onto her throne with a sigh. "Such power can't resurface, not when someone as unhinged as he is wields it." Her lips quivered, her heart drumming in her ears. "Oberon and I together could hardly come close to matching his mad maliciousness."

-----

AN: Who guessed now? I can't give more hints. :D