"I must be lucky that my Shamanic Dao wasn't fully destroyed when the Azure Flames Dao integrated into my inner space. The fragments that survived must have done so because, by some small chance, they were compatible with the contract authority the new Dao introduced."
Qiren spoke while staring at the Abyssal Ash made scroll floating before him, the smoldering red embers formed words forever etched into its surface.
"That's good… at least I didn't lose it completely."
He began reading from top to bottom. Most of the first section remained the same—except for the subtle rise in his hope, and the fear and pain he must have absorbed from the souls he consumed while feral.
Eventually, he skimmed past the notice explaining what could be transferred as curses or blessings.
"Treasures…" he murmured, eyes narrowing. "Demonic Parchment Ash-Strip… Tier 1 Hellish Object."
Authority: Contract Manifesting
By expanding Qi into your Dao flames, you have been acknowledged by The Endless Nether Abyss. With this authority, you can manifest refined crystal-tree parchment to trade and create contracts with any sentient creature, marking you as one of the few demons to successfully pass the Dark Embryo stage of development.
Qiren paused.
He raised his hand, and more smoky ash drifted from the azure scarf coiled around him. Dust and embers separated themselves from the burned scroll, gathering above his palm.
Slowly, they condensed—forming a sheet of scorched parchment the size of an ordinary page.
"This is getting even more interesting," he muttered.
"What is the difference between a Dao… and an Authority?"
The parchment hovered in place.
If Daos were the laws of existence—the fountains that upheld cultivation and stability—then perhaps Authorities were the molds those laws flowed into. The framework that allowed beings to use them.
Qiren looked around.
Other juvenile demons had already begun summoning contracts—some only one, others half a dozen.
Most manifested theirs in flames aligned with their awakening.
He watched them with intrigue, his eyes then fell to his flames.
The difference between their pure flames and his was obvious.
His could glow in two hues—red and blue—but only briefly. To maintain the Azure Flames purity, he had to force his Dao far beyond its comfort. But he lacked the talent to sustain it.
In the end, he could only manifest the parchment through his Dao, then switch to natural crimson-orange flames to write upon it—just like most demons.
Those with high Dao affinity, bound to the Underworld Seal, drew their contracts from green fire. Those marked by Burning Hell formed theirs from deep crimson flames. Others followed different hues entirely.
"So these contracts are growth techniques," Qiren concluded silently. "Tools meant to help us practice our Daos… and understand one another."
In a primal realm where spoken promises and good faith were meaningless, a binding system that enforced agreements made perfect sense.
Contracts were survival.
The ash-forged parchment in his hand pulsed as embers rearranged themselves, briefly forming the same Formation Array used during his awakening.
He felt it clearly now—if he tried, he could impose conditions onto the page.
A low-grade contract.
"Hm…" His eyes glinted. "If I write a clause and have another demon sign it, would the Abyss enforce it?"
What if the contract demanded a soul every hour?
And if the demon failed, ownership of their soul transferred to him?
Would the realm permit such a contract?
Or would it invalidate the terms outright?
His lips curled upward.
"Why don't I find out," he whispered.
There was time to kill before the chains released them. He might as well test the limits of his authority while continuing to read.
"I'll write the first half in Mandarin," he said quietly, ash moving at his will, "and the second using the demonic syllables burned into my mind."
The parchment darkened as words formed.
I would like to play a game with you.
A simple staring match.
If I win, I claim your soul.
If you win, I will give you a lock of my hair.
Qiren inhaled once—then willed the second half to appear, the characters twisting into the jagged script of the Underworld's tongue.
I will play the game written above, under the same rules.
If you wish to accept, blink once and then look at me.
The moment our eyes meet, the game will begin.
The parchment hovered, embers smoldering softly.
Qiren smiled.
This was going to be enlightening.
Qiren flicked his wrist.
The ash-forged parchment drifted away from his palm, gliding through the air like a dying ember on the wind until it stopped in front of a human-faced centipede demon clinging to the crystal wall.
The creature stiffened.
Its many legs curled inward defensively, mandibles twitching as its human face tilted in confusion. The parchment hovered inches from its eyes, the demonic syllables pulsing faintly.
The centipede leaned closer.
It couldn't read Mandarin.
Its gaze slid instinctively to the second half—the Underworld tongue.
The creature's eyes moved back and forth, unfocused, more curious than cautious.
Then—
It blinked.
Once.
It didn't know what this "game" Qiren wanted to play, but it accepted his challenge nonetheless. Then its gaze lifted, looking away from the message and straight at Qiren.
The moment their eyes met—
FWOOOSH—
The parchment ignited.
Embers raced across its surface, every line of text burning simultaneously. The contract flared brightly, then collapsed inward, crumbling into drifting ash that scattered between them.
Qiren frowned.
"…Did it fail?" he murmured.
The centipede demon relaxed slightly, confused but unharmed. Its human face twisted into something almost smug, as if relieved the strange ritual hadn't worked.
Then—
Qiren felt it.
A tug.
Not on his body—
—but deeper.
His vision sharpened unnaturally, the world narrowing until the centipede demon was all he could see. Layers peeled back without effort—flesh, Qi circulation, spiritual membrane—
—and then he was looking inside it.
"Oh…?" Qiren breathed.
Something answered him.
From the centipede's chest, a faint glow stirred.
Its soul—a dense knot of light and identity, shrouded in mist—shuddered.
Qiren smirked but never looked away, ensuring his gaze remained locked with its own.
The demon centipede stared back, uncertain.
"Kre… kre…" its mandibles clicked, its human face growing increasingly suspicious.
A group of newly arrived fledglings flew closer, parchment strips trailing behind them. Drawn to the stalemate, they hovered nearby, wondering why the two were facing one another—and why the contract Qiren had given the other juvenile had disappeared.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then five.
Neither blinked.
"I might have underestimated the natural limits of a demon," Qiren muttered. "Without knowing the conditions I set, it seems capable of keeping its eyes open far longer than I expected."
He raised his hand and plucked a strand of hair. It hardened instantly into a straight point.
"I have no choice, then, but to act a little underhanded."
He dipped the back end of the needle into his flames. It caught fire. He twirled it once and pointed it forward.
"Azure Needle!"
—!!!
The human-faced centipede hesitated at the sudden attack, then spat out a ball of green fire in defense.
"Kre!!!"
Its mandibles flared as it fired another rapid emerald blast, trying to intercept the thrown needle.
The three flames collided, startling the gathered unchained fledglings.
"Kre!!!" the centipede roared again—and suddenly froze.
Its many legs spasmed violently.
"…—?!"
It had blinked.
The glow hidden within its body tore free.
Not violently.
Not explosively.
It peeled outward—slow and inevitable—drifting from the creature's body like a moon being pulled from orbit.
The centipede let out a strangled, choking sound as the core of its being emerged. A trail of misty essence stretched around the floating sphere of pure spiritual energy, still tethered to the wisps seated within its body.
The soul drifted toward Qiren.
Stopped.
Hovered at his side.
The centipede demon screamed.
Its human face twisted in raw shock and terror as realization struck.
"Trick… trick! Traick!" it rasped in broken speech.
Its legs buckled, scraping uselessly against the crystal as it struggled to comprehend what had been taken.
It was still alive.
Still thinking.
Still breathing.
But lighter.
Hollow.
Something vital was missing.
The demon staring back at Qiren had stolen half its soul—it felt it. All that remained in its body was a drifting coldness, slowly dispersing as it thinned without replacement.
Panicked, it fired flames at its bindings, desperately trying to free itself and reclaim a crucial part of its soul structure.
Qiren stared.
Slowly, his expression shifted—not confusion, but dawning understanding.
"…It worked," he whispered.
The soul beside him pulsed faintly, obedient, tethered by an unseen clause. As it hovered nearby, Qiren felt a wave of negative karma surge through him, his vision snapping toward the ashen scroll.
Negative Karma: 806.4 ↑
Refinement Qi: 145.6 ↑
Refinement Realm: Middle Stage / Beginner
He had gained 64.0 Karma—nearly twenty minutes' worth of accumulation from the Taijitu pieces around his neck.
"Hahaha."
He laughed softly and looked back at the centipede demon, whose eyes were wide with horror as it clutched its heated chains, feeling the emptiness where part of itself had been claimed.
Qiren's lips curled.
His vision narrowed.
"Are you still trying to claim I tricked you~?" he asked, hearing its broken voice accuse him.
He grabbed the soul and brought it to his mouth.
"I wrote it clearly on the page I sent you, didn't I?" he said calmly. "Is it my fault you're illiterate?"
The centipede snarled as Qiren chewed and swallowed its soul.
A faint surge followed—0.6 Qi and 0.8 Negative Karma, exactly.
"Mmm?" He tasted it and frowned slightly. "How bland…"
He tilted his head.
"Is that because you're an insect type? Or because it wasn't seasoned with fear?" he mused. "Maybe it's because I'm missing the foggy matter that should have surrounded your soul."
His gaze returned to the centipede.
"…Is that what's keeping you alive?"
He tested his authority again.
"Let's try plundering that as well."
A faint smile formed.
"Should we play rock–paper–scissors for it this time?"
The centipede thrashed madly, abandoning its attacks on the chains. Its head lifted toward him, eyes burning with fury as it charged a blast of heat.
"KRE!!!!"
Qiren's hair shot forward, whipping through the fireball. The sharpened ends sliced cleanly through the emerald Underworld flames.
SWISH!
The fire dispersed into harmless strands.
The centipede tried to launch another blast—but failed.
Its Qi was too drained to respond.
"Azure Needle!"
Qiren hurled another flaming hair-needle straight into its mouth.
The flames melted into its flesh and ignited from within.
"KRE—!!!"
It roared in agony as its windpipe liquefied, smoke curling down its throat.
Nearby fledglings recoiled, watching in horror as the demon burned from the inside out—even from Qiren's distance.
They shuddered and took flight, unwilling to risk falling victim to his projectiles.
Qiren simply turned back to his stats.
"So it really does cost forty Qi per Azure Needle," he noted calmly. "And now that I'm paying closer attention…"
His gaze shifted downward.
"I've also gained two more rituals."
He nodded.
"Or one ritual with a subset."
Demonic Vessel Imparting
Cursed Berry Vessel
His eyes dropped further.
"Oh? And would you look at that~"
Current Lifespan
23 Years · 6 Days · 12 Hours
"I won't be dying anytime soon after all," he smiled smugly.
He glanced back at the centipede's slumped corpse as the remaining soul mist began to leak from it.
"…"
His hunger stirred.
The scent of fear clung thickly to the mist.
He tore free strands of his hair, forcing them to harden and reshape into their brush-like form. The strands pierced into the crystal ground, anchoring themselves into the flipped cavern walls.
Qiren remembered how brittle the amethyst here was—soft enough for hatchlings to climb.
A flaw.
And now—
His next exploit.
Most juveniles were bound the moment they awakened a Dao.
But he was the only one who had found a way around it.
By fanning his hair outward, hardening it with Qi, and driving it into the inverted cave walls—
He alone remained unbound.