The spiritual realm did not have light.
It had density.
Arata felt it the moment he crossed over—an invisible weight pressing against his existence, as if the world itself was evaluating him.
"…So this is the higher layer," he murmured.
⟪Cognitive Familiar⟫
"Correction. This is an intermediary spiritual stratum.
Multiple realms intersect here."
"…Figures."
There was no ground beneath him, yet he did not fall. His existence drifted forward, drawn by something instinctive.
Or perhaps—
"…Not instinct," he corrected himself.
"Opportunity."
Below him, rifts shimmered like wounds in reality.
Some burned gold.
Some bled white.
And one—
One was black.
"…That one," Arata said calmly.
"Analysis: demonic spiritual frequency detected."
"…Hell, then."
"More accurately: Demon World."
He moved.
Passing through the rift felt like being dragged through cold oil. His perception twisted, stretched, then stabilized.
The air was thick with mana. Violent. Aggressive.
Screams echoed somewhere far away.
"…Charming place."
The Demon World
The sky was crimson, fractured by black clouds that pulsed like veins.
Jagged land stretched endlessly, littered with ruins and bones.
Arata hovered above it all, unseen.
"Multiple hostile entities detected," ⟪Cognitive Familiar⟫ reported.
"Recommend vessel acquisition."
"…Already planning to."
His awareness spread.
Demons were everywhere.
Some were beasts. Some humanoid. Some barely comprehensible.
"…I don't want a noble," Arata muttered.
"Too many strings."
"Agreed."
He scanned deeper.
Then—
"…There."
A lone demon staggered through a canyon of obsidian.
Humanoid. Tall. Lean. Horns broken on one side.
Blood—black and smoking—dripped from his chest.
"…He's dying."
"Confirmed.
Soul integrity: 63% and degrading."
"…Perfect."
The demon collapsed to one knee.
"Damn it…" the demon rasped.
"Of all places…"
Arata descended.
The demon froze.
"…What?"
His eyes widened.
"A spirit?"
Arata did not answer immediately.
Instead, he asked—
"…What's your name?"
The demon coughed, laughing bitterly.
"Name?"
"…You think that matters now?"
"…It does to me."
Silence.
"…Kharzeth," the demon said at last.
"Rogue. No lineage. No master."
"…Good."
Kharzeth frowned. "Good?"
Arata moved closer.
"…You're dying," he said calmly.
"But your soul hasn't fled yet."
The demon's eyes sharpened.
"…You're not an angel."
"No."
"…Nor a reaper."
"No."
"…Then what are you?"
Arata tilted his awareness slightly.
"…A parasite."
The word hit harder than any spell.
Kharzeth laughed weakly.
"Hah… figures.
Even the abyss sends scavengers."
"…I'm not here to scavenge."
Arata reached out.
"I'm here to inherit."
Assimilation
The moment Arata made contact—
The demon screamed.
Not in pain.
In terror.
"What—what are you doing?!" Kharzeth roared.
"My soul—!"
⟪Soul Assimilation⟫ initiating
Arata felt it.
The soul resisted.
Clawed.
Fought.
"…You lived as a rogue," Arata said quietly.
"Why cling now?"
"Because it's mine!" Kharzeth screamed.
"…Then keep it."
Arata did not crush the soul.
He wrapped around it.
Supported it.
"…I won't erase you," he said.
"I'll carry you."
The resistance faltered.
Memories flooded in.
Battles. Hunger. Betrayal. Survival.
A thousand kills.
A thousand failures.
"…So this is the demon world," Arata murmured.
"No wonder you all turn violent."
Kharzeth's consciousness trembled.
"…You'll… use my body?"
"Yes."
"…My skills?"
"Yes."
"…Everything?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then—
"…Then survive better than I did."
The soul let go.
Rebirth
The body convulsed.
Black mana surged.
Broken horns reformed.
Wounds sealed.
The demon stood up slowly.
Breathing steadily.
Eyes opening—
Not red.
Not black.
But calm.
"…Status?" Arata asked.
"Assimilation complete," ⟪Cognitive Familiar⟫ replied.
"All skills, memories, and abilities integrated."
Arata flexed his clawed hand.
Power flowed naturally.
"…Ultimate Skill," he murmured.
A memory surfaced.
⟪Abyssal Descent⟫ — Kharzeth's ultimate.
"…So demons really do bind skills to the soul."
"Confirmed."
Arata smiled faintly.
"…This changes everything."
He looked up at the crimson sky.
"…I'll operate as a demon," he decided.
"A rogue."
"Designation required."
"…No."
He paused.
"…I'll take a name later."
The demon world rumbled.
Somewhere far away—
Something noticed him.
"…Let them come," Arata said calmly.
"Warning: high-tier demonic authorities detected."
"…Good."
He stepped forward.
And the Demon World gained a new existence—
One that did not belong.