Qiren walked over to his demon pelts.
He glanced at them, then at his other trinkets, before flinging the pelts back over his shoulders.
"I need to grab everything and leave. I got what I wanted—wings—even if it wasn't how I planned."
"I can still work with this. I can cut straight to where I need to be."
His gaze swept across the bridge as he walked to retrieve the first fruit he had thrown. It had landed far away. Without a pouch, he brought it to his waist and let it pin itself in place, a caterpillar acting as a living link to the vines.
After that, he gathered his chains and hairpiece.
He tied his hair into a ponytail, then broke into a run—his wings flapping as he used his speed to launch himself into the air.
Qiren's shoulder muscles strained to keep him aloft as he followed the obsidian road.
He didn't leap off the edge immediately, choosing instead to build familiarity. "To think this is technically my second time flying…" he murmured, glancing down as the bridge shrank beneath him and his altitude increased by the second.
His thoughts drifted back to the ritual site behind him. I wonder if I could do that again…
If he could, he might be able to strengthen himself even further—by transmuting himself with another creature.
But he would have to be careful. There could be side effects.
His wings beat as he spiraled midair. That means I'll need test subjects first—and more curse fragments to properly replicate what happened.
"I'll have to enact a bad-luck cleansing ritual on someone," he muttered, stroking his chin.
"Then find a vessel for the curse before attempting to fuse its fragments with two different monsters."
He veered off the diagonal path, no longer following the obsidian road.
The roads led to multiple floating islands in the archipelago—paths that could now be skipped entirely. He flew straight over the Blue Sea, heading toward the center where all the islands converged.
Qiren traveled over the endless ocean for four hours. Though he called it a shortcut, it would still take time to reach his destination. In that span, he bypassed twelve islands to his left—journeys that would have cost him days on foot, not the nine-hour flight he was now undertaking.
During this time, he accumulated 8,757.4 Negative Karma and 410 Qi. Even with his trophies, his Qi should have reached 1,590.6, but he hit the storage limit of a mid-rank Refinement Realm practitioner.
It seemed like a large amount—until he remembered he possessed a single technique that consumed 40 units on activation.
That number suddenly felt meaningless.
He could prove it easily by forming several Azure Needles.
So, to compensate and make full use of his trinkets, he thought outside the box.
Schk—
Qiren grit his teeth as he stabbed a one-inch needle through the skin of his upper forearm. It stood firm beneath his flesh.
"…3.25."
His eyes shifted from his arm to the nearby scroll.
Negative Karma: 8,757.4 ↑↓
Refinement Qi: 406.75 ↓ 406.75 ↓ 405.5
Refinement Realm: Middle Stage / Practitioner
"…1.25… 0.62."
He concentrated, lowering the output as much as possible. The needle softened slightly, but didn't revert fully to hair.
"…0.04."
He took another prepared one-inch strand and brought it next to the one still embedded in his arm, flowing Qi through it.
It reached its initial 3.25, then he reduced the output again.
"…0.04."
He tried pushing it lower, but any further reduction caused it to revert into a normal strand of hair. He pulled both needles free with his knuckles and flicked them away.
They whistled through the air before losing all resistance.
"…Roughly a one-meter attack range," he murmured. "I could shorten the needles to save on output, but that limits their range."
This could work for close-quarters combat—and help him manage Qi—but it wasn't sustainable long-term. At most, he could maintain one for twenty minutes.
Maybe I could stitch them into my arm and keep them hidden until needed?
That would cost 19 units of Qi, slightly more than the original 13 for a standard ten-inch Iron Needle. The advantage was continuous consumption—allowing further optimization as his control improved.
His wings glided on the blue-tinged wind. "I need to clean this up—and find a place to land."
He flew toward a floating island on the horizon. Trees hung upside down, mud streaming from its edges like waterfalls born of the storm.
He knew landing alone in a forest was dangerous—but he needed rest. He hadn't slept properly in nearly a day.
He passed through the curtain of tumbling soil and emerged into an inverted world. Grass, shrubs, and strange plants brushed past him; tree trunks jutted downward.
"Whoa…"
He couldn't help but take it in.
Weaving between bark and branches, careful not to fly too high and crash into the "ground," the disorientation was overwhelming.
He settled onto the underside of a branch to steady himself.
There wasn't much activity on the island—most animals had either fled or gone into hiding. He took a short nap, lasting only a few minutes, before taking off again.
Before leaving, he wrapped his forearm with vines and leaves.
He also fashioned a crude satchel, tying twigs and branches together. When he realized he could use his hair as thread, he wove leaves into an outer covering for the frame.
All of it was preparation for finding another blue-berry bush like the one he had used.
He flew toward the center again—but found nothing.
Then—
A pale light flared at the corner of his vision.
A ring of five circles appeared, smaller circles nested within each layer, each inscribed with the same set of syllables:
Underworld Seal
Burning Hell
Infernal Bite
Key of Bones
Azure Pit
Qiren recoiled as the center distorted, revealing an image of demons fighting on a bridge—killing one another in rabid hunger and terror.
The scene shattered.
A soul was torn free and shot out of the array.
"What…?" He staggered back.
You'll only have to forfeit every five souls you collect. Isn't that a steal~?
The words surfaced from his subconscious. His pupils dilated as he studied the formation more closely.
Interwoven throughout it was his true demon name:
Qìrén Vhal'Zerath
And another, entwined through it in fragments:
Rin-Tal — Moqen — Venek — Tir
The names floated together, overlapping, making it impossible to discern the true reading order—yet Qiren knew this was another demon's true name.
Instinctively, he understood: if he could unravel its order, he could weaken it by speaking it aloud.
"Our names were used to link us together… through our contract," he murmured.
He looked at the soul hovering before him—then at the berries at his waist.
After a long pause, he refrained from consuming it.
His gaze returned to the empty space where the formation dissolved.