"Tell me your name," Valon commanded as he looked at his new servant.
"My name is Merivel, my lord."
"Rise, Merivel. I have questions that need answering."
"My lord, if I may ask... What are you? You made me significantly stronger, but I know of no power like this."
Valon considered the question. Hiding the truth felt beneath him. "I am a Demon. A Primordial Demon—one of ten. And now, so are you. Before, you were weak and powerless. I have given you a chance to prove your worth. Do not disappoint me."
A shiver ran down Merivel's spine. His words weren't a threat—they were a promise.
"I would NEVER disappoint you, my lord!" she cried out, panicking.
"Silence." The word struck like a whip. "I have questions. I've only just arrived in this world. Tell me about it—its people, its lands."
Merivel bowed slightly. "We are on the continent of Dran, in the Great Forest of Callin—central territory ruled by the Wood Elves. To the east is the Kingdom of Kal, a human nation. West lies the Empire of Ostagard, also human. South is the Kingdom of Bors ruled by the "southerns" tanned humans. And far north, the Dwarven stronghold of Karok."
"There are two other continents. One is ruled solely by the Tan Empire. They are secretive and rarely welcome outsiders. The last is a chain of massive islands called Parth, ruled by the Sun Elves. They are home to the Paladins of Light—sworn enemies of evil."
Valon nodded slowly. "No demons... Perfect."
"Now, tell me how magic works."
"Magic is divided into six tiers, based on how many circles are formed in a spell. Tier One is basic, Tier Six is the peak. A Tier Six mage can cast a lesser spell if they desire by reducing the number of circles. Spells aren't bound to elements—anyone can learn anything, but crafting runes and controlling mana at higher tiers takes intense mastery."
"I'm only a Tier Two mage," Merivel admitted, lowering her gaze.
"Pathetic," Valon said without pause. Merivel flinched.
"But," he added, "we'll work on that. Your physical strength will compensate for now."
He leaned back, disinterested. "I've heard enough. I don't need to sit through useless rambling."
Valon paused, then asked, "Is there somewhere remote—far from cities?"
Merivel thought. "In the northern edge of the Ostagard Empire, there's a peninsula. A bandit lord seized a castle there, Castle Ruin, slaughtering all inside. The Empire never reclaimed it—too remote, no strategic value."
Valon's eyes lit up faintly. "That will do nicely."
"Rest. We leave at first light."
Merivel moved swiftly, collecting two bedrolls from the bandit camp. "Would you like something to eat, my lord?"
"Yes. Kill something. Test your strength. Don't return empty-handed."
She nodded and vanished into the night.
An hour passed. She returned blood-soaked, dragging what remained of a bear.
"Apologies, my lord. It took time to adjust to my strength."
Valon didn't answer. He stared into the fire. Merivel got the hint, butchered the bear, and cooked the meat.
After eating, they laid down to rest. Surrounded by their dark aura, no beast dared approach.
As dawn broke, Valon rose first. Merivel followed moments later, groggy.
"From now on," Valon said, his voice cold, "you are my servant. That means waking before me. Handle everything."
"Yes, my lord. I'll be the only servant you'll ever need." She smiled hopefully.
Valon grunted and turned away.
Her smile faded. But instead of fear or shame, she felt thrilled. The way he ignored her… it excited her. That hateful, emotionless gaze sent shivers through her entire body.
She bit her lip. A wicked grin crept onto her face.
Valon sighed internally. Might've gone overboard with the corruption… She's a certified pervert now.
He listened to her breathing—erratic and heavy—and made a mental note: Never "punish" her.