The basement of my estate was no ordinary cellar.
It was a labyrinth of stone and steel, stretching further underground than most could imagine. Barracks and training rooms for my elite soldiers, workshops and storage for weapons, and laboratories for my experiments filled the subterranean halls. But this room, the largest and most fortified, was my sanctum.
Here, magic and science met.
Here, power could be extracted, shaped, and refined.
I had cleared the chamber completely, inscribing every surface—walls, ceiling, floor—with a lattice of runes. Marvel runes, DC runes, combinations I had designed to weaken and deter anything from demons to celestial entities. Nothing would move here without my permission.
At the center of the room, chains and restraints held fifty prisoners. Powerful men, warriors, and would-be rivals who had crossed my path. Their lives were mine to bargain with.
I activated the Black Ring, feeling its familiar hum. A portal opened before me, black as void and edged in flickering violet fire. From it emerged a projection, sharp and vivid—the towering, twisted visage of Mephisto.
"Ah," he said, voice like molten glass. "The Mandarin—or should I say, the Great Khan? I hear your reputation precedes you."
I stepped forward, my expression calm.
"I need knowledge," I said. "Magical energy, mastery over the forces your realm touches. In exchange…" I gestured to the prisoners. "Fifty souls. You consume them. I gain power."
He tilted his head, examining me, his eyes glimmering like burning coal. "Souls of that quality… intriguing. Bold. Efficient. I like efficiency."
A grin crossed my face. "Then it's agreed."
He extended a clawed hand. I met it with my own, the Crimson Ring glowing faintly as it registered the contract.
MAGICAL CONTRACT SEALED
Souls screamed as they left the world, rushing into Mephisto's endless domain. The air around me shimmered, dense with power.
I felt it immediately—magical energy weaving through my veins, raw and vibrant, coiling into the rings on my fingers. My Red, White, Black, Purple, and Orange Rings pulsed in resonance, feeding off the surge, growing sharper, more refined.
When the portal snapped shut, the room was silent once again.
But Mephisto had left a gift.
A stack of books, each ancient, bound in leather and etched with runes that whispered as I approached. Arcane texts from realms I could not have otherwise accessed. Spells, incantations, knowledge of demonic hierarchies, manipulations of life force, energy flow, and interdimensional barriers.
I could have purchased this knowledge from the system.
It would have cost thousands of points.
But demons, with proper preparation, were cheaper—and infinitely more flexible.
I allowed myself a small smile.
Magic would not replace my rings. The Ten Rings were the foundation of my power—my legacy—but mastery of the arcane would supplement them, extend my influence, and give me tools that no mortal, god, or system could fully anticipate.
I picked up a book. Its pages hummed as I opened it. The first spell—a simple energy amplification—folded into my consciousness.
My experiments would continue.
My army would continue to grow.
And soon, no force in this ancient world—or any world—would stand against me.
Because I was no longer just a warrior.
I was a mage, a strategist, a master of souls, and a wielder of ultimate rings.
And nothing—not heaven, hell, or Earth itself—would dictate the path I carved.