Flap. Flap. Flap.
Adorn's massive obsidian wings beat against the night air one last time before he touched down in the clearing.
Ryn and the Cat-girl slid off his back, and with a hiss of heat, the dragon shrunk back into his human form—fully clothed, much to Ryn's internal relief.
"B-brother? Is that really you?"
A voice, thin and trembling, drifted from the huddle of rescued demons. Ryn turned.
Standing there was the girl from the auction.
She had long, moonlight-white hair and crimson eyes that looked like dull rubies after days of suffering.
James—the man inside Ryn's body—looked at her and felt... absolutely nothing. He didn't know this girl. He hadn't written her.
But as he looked at her pale, bruised skin, a flicker of the "Original Ryn's" instinct flared up.
He walked over and placed a hand on her head. He didn't have words, but he understood the weight of her pain.
Pah!
She collapsed into him, sobbing into his chest. Ryn awkwardly embraced her. This is going to be a very long night, he thought.
Once the emotions settled, Ryn stepped away.
He needed a permanent solution. He couldn't keep a hundred demons in a basement in the capital; the Church would sniff them out in hours.
System, give me a map. Is there a deserted island safe from the Human Empire?
______________________________
[Knowledge: The Forgotten Archipelago]
Cost: 200 Glory Points.
[Yes] / [No]
_______________________________
He hit [Yes]. A mental image flooded his mind: an island in the middle of a dead-sea zone, lush with ancient trees, teeming with wildlife, and naturally shielded by magnetic storms. It was perfect.
Now, I need to get them there.
___________________________
[Mass Teleportation Scroll]
Cost: 2,000 Glory Points.
[Yes] / [No]
_____________________________
Before sending them off, Ryn realized he needed a more hands-on way to manage his followers.
System, can I check their power levels? I need to know who is worth keeping here.
__________________________________
[Notice: To unlock 'King's Sight,' you must increase your Rank. Bloodline Abilities requires a Rank-up.]
Cost to Rank Up (F -> E): 2,000 Glory Points.
Consultation Fee: 100 GP.
Current GP: 8,700.
___________________________________
"Do it," Ryn muttered.
A surge of dark energy erupted from his heart, stitching his muscles tighter and expanding his mana veins.
--------------[Status]---------------------
Name: Malverkor Junior
Age: 16
Race: Archdemon
Rank: E (Lowest Grade)
[Stats]
• Strength: E
• Speed:E+
• Charima C+
• Vitality: D
• Mana: 306 / 306
[Attribute]: [colossus], [Lightning]
[Abilities]: [Demon Domain], [Swordmanship], [King sight]
[Assessment]: You're no longer a fly to be swatted, but in the eyes of an Inquisitor, you're still just a slightly louder bug.
[King's Sight]: View power levels and see through the eyes of any loyal demon.
___________________________________
Ryn's vision shifted. Symbols appeared over the heads of the crowd. Most were weak, but three stood out. He pointed them out:
• Bullack: A massive Red Orc covered in battle-scars.
• Nimiri: A blonde, icy-blue-eyed elf. There was nothing in having a beauty in the group.
• Undead warrior: I just hope doesn't turn out like blacky.
"You three stay," Ryn commanded. "The rest of you... go to the island. Rebuild. Wait for my word."
He handed the scroll to his sister. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face.
"Brother... you've changed. Back in the Demon Realm, you were... useless. You never trained. You were the reason our line was weakening."
Ouch. Tough crowd, Ryn thought.
"But now," she smiled through her tears, "you look like a King. Mom and Dad would be proud. Goodbye, Brother."
She ripped the scroll. In a flash of blue light, a hundred demons vanished, leaving only Ryn and his small elite squad behind.
"Master," the Olivia chirped. "What now?"
"Now?" Ryn looked toward the horizon, where the lights of the Academy twinkled. "I go back to being a nerd."
The Blossom Church: cathedral of light was the most powerful of the three Great Sects, rivaling even the Imperial family.
Priest John entered the Archbishop's private office, bowing deeply. "Archbishop, I have news regarding the demon raid. They escaped. One of them possessed an ancient bloodline... I managed to place a Scorch Mark on him before they fled."
"And?" a high-pitched, youthful voice asked.
The man behind the desk lowered his book. He wasn't an old man.
He was a boy, no older than twelve, with snow-white hair and piercing golden eyes.
This was the Archbishop—the one chosen by the Goddess of Light.
"He is currently hiding within the Academy of Heroes," John reported. "Give the word, and I will purge the school."
The boy-Archbishop walked to the window, a wide, unsettling smirk stretching across his face. "No. The last Demon King was too easy.
Let this 'aspirant' grow. Let him get strong. A hunt is no fun if the prey can't bite back."
"As you wish... Master," John muttered, shivering under the boy's gaze.
Back at the academy Ryn sat on his bed, suddenly shivering. "Achoo! Someone must be talking about me."
He looked at his hand, unaware of the invisible mark the Church had placed on his soul.