As the master of two Primordial Demons, Damien wasn't so much summoning gods as opening a doorway for them into the Campione universe.
Right now, both of their divine incarnations were still blocked outside the Realm of Immortality. Only someone in the material world could guide them through with a proper ritual.
"As for the shrine maiden and the believers…"
"We're all family here. No need to get hung up on the details."
Hinata was speechless at how casually Damien put it, but Diablo just laughed. "Exactly. The master already bled for us—how could we ask for anything more?"
"If anything, I feel honored that the master's own blood is serving as the medium for our descent!"
Diablo was the same as ever—Damien's biggest fanboy through and through.
Testarossa was a little more composed, but she had already started daydreaming about how she would protect Damien once they arrived in the Campione world and help him become a Campione.
"All right, that should just about do it."
Inside the Parthenon, Damien stood at the edge of the massive magic circle. He healed the wound on his wrist with recovery magic and began chanting ancient, obscure words.
The incantation sounded half like a prayer, half like a call to something formless and nameless.
Boom!
At the same moment, deep inside the Realm of Immortality in the Campione universe, several colossal figures clashed violently in the endless void. Both Testarossa and Diablo back in the Demon Lord's castle frowned at the same time.
"How dare they covet the master's blood!"
"Get lost, you worms!"
Diablo's fury erupted. Towering, god-like silhouettes that seemed to hold up the heavens unleashed earth-shaking power throughout the Realm of Immortality.
Beside him, another hazy, indistinct figure was busy driving away the gods trying to slip free from the void.
Neither of them had expected that even with such a crude summoning ritual, filthy opportunists would still try to snatch a piece of the prize.
If the two of them hadn't been strong enough and prepared in advance, someone really might have slipped through.
The consequences would have been disastrous.
After all, summoning a Heretic God normally wasn't this simple.
The only reason a single magic circle and a bit of blood could open a path for Diablo and Testarossa was because they already belonged to Damien, and because Violet had given him a backdoor to skip most of the usual formalities.
Of course, this kind of shortcut could only be used once. If Damien tried it again, the Realm of Immortality would riot and the world's will would eject him outright.
Boom!
Standing inside the temple, Damien felt the air grow heavier and heavier. He stepped outside and looked up at the night sky choked with storm clouds.
Terrifying magical energy was spreading over the entire city.
Most ordinary people had no idea what was happening. They simply thought the weather had taken a sudden turn and a violent storm was on its way.
Only the magicians and spellcasters who could sense the flow of magical power understood exactly what this meant.
"This… this level of magical energy…"
"A Heretic God?"
"A Heretic God has descended on Athens!!"
Almost simultaneously, every mage in the city paled in horror and fled toward the outskirts as fast as they could.
They also immediately reported the situation to their respective organizations.
Before long, the entire European magic community knew something massive was happening in Athens, Greece.
Yet things didn't unfold the way anyone expected.
There was no apocalyptic disaster, no city being razed to the ground by a rampaging god.
The pitch-black clouds that had blotted out the sky and the world-ending magical pressure came fast—and vanished just as quickly.
By the time everyone was still wondering what had happened, Damien had already returned to his hotel in Athens with Diablo and Testarossa in tow.
"Master!"
Inside the suite, Damien had changed into white pajamas and was lounging in a recliner, looking at the pair before him.
Diablo still wore his signature black butler uniform. Even while suppressing his magical energy, his inhuman aura made it perfectly clear what he had become—a Heretic God.
Little Black dropped to one knee and bowed respectfully. "How is your body, Master? Are you feeling better?"
"I lost a lot of life force."
Compared to the state he had been in while performing the summoning at the Parthenon, Damien now looked utterly exhausted in both body and mind.
Summoning Heretic Gods with such a shortcut obviously came at a price.
Damien's price was simple: his own life and soul.
Yes—life and soul.
Of course, it was only the life and soul of this projection, so at most it cost him some spiritual energy.
But to the projection itself, that was everything.
Just like offering a soul to the devil, the cost of the summoning was to sacrifice everything he had so the two Heretic Gods could descend.
"Even though we returned as much of your life force as possible," Testarossa said, "a portion—roughly equivalent to about ten years of lifespan—was still lost during the process."
Little White wore a flowing white dress. The stunning beauty with white hair and crimson eyes stood behind Damien, gently massaging his shoulders to help him relax.
Little Black and Little White were his own people. Even if Damien had offered his soul, they would have canceled the price for him.
But this was their first time doing it this way, so the projection had still taken a hit.
Damien waved it off. "As long as I could bring the two of you here, this body did its job."
He didn't care about the loss. As long as he didn't make any fundamental mistakes, he could always project himself again—second time, third time, however many it took.
Little Black and Little White, however, looked deeply guilty for having hurt him at all.
Even though it was only a projection, the two Primordial Demons who lived for Damien still felt genuine heartache.
"All right, enough of that." Damien smiled. "Now tell me—what new powers did you gain from this world?"
"Yes!"
Diablo spoke first. "In this world, I descended under the name Satan."
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