His soul was still firmly in the grasp of that terrifying Slime. That damned Soul Book was like the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, ready to fall at any moment.
He had agreed to cooperate with this seemingly weak and conflicted Prince for two reasons. Firstly, he didn’t want his soulless body to be scrutinized by other High-tier Demons. Secondly, circumstances forced him to re-establish a foothold in the White Horse Kingdom as quickly as possible. He needed resources and intelligence to face a potential inquiry from Lord Casaric.
He couldn’t return to the Abyss like this, nor could he go to the City of Burning to face Lord Casaric.
Perhaps making indirect contact through a sacrificial ritual like this could keep his secret hidden.
But Yax was filled with doubt and unease, uncertain if he could truly deceive a master of soul manipulation.
But Alek was already prepared and could wait no longer. The resolute fire burning in the human Prince’s eyes told Yax that the ritual had to proceed.
Yax reined in his chaotic thoughts. His eyes, burning with sulfurous flames, swept over Alek’s revenge-filled face as he spoke in a low voice.
"Let the ritual begin."
"Present your offering—a drop of blood from your fingertip, and call upon the name of my master."
Trembling, Alek drew the ceremonial short sword from his waist. He placed the tip against his finger and gently pricked the skin.
A single drop of blood seeped from his fingertip—a symbol of "connection" and "contact" in Demon rituals—and fell into the center of the sinister sacrificial Magic Array at his feet.
The instant the blood touched the Magic Array, it was like a drop of water hitting boiling oil. The entire array flared with a blinding, dark red light, and the stench of blood and sulfur intensified severalfold.
Alek felt a surge of vertigo and his heart pound, but he fought it. Mustering all his strength, he began to chant hoarsely in the demonic tongue Yax had taught him: "With my blood as the catalyst, I summon the gaze of the Abyss..."
"Great Master of Burning and Conquest... Casaric..."
"Please accept this humble offering of a soul, and grant me Your favor..."
As the final syllable faded, a blast of scorching, sulfurous air surged toward him, whipping the hem of his robes.
A hazy silhouette materialized amidst the bloody light and flames.
Alek felt his soul seized by a large, invisible hand, dragging him toward an Abyss that reeked of destruction. Just as he thought he would be completely devoured, the pulling force abruptly stopped.
The terrifying figure spoke, its voice raspy.
"I have had enough souls from the Whitmans. But yours, child, is special. It is enough to draw the chaotic gaze of Morgul."
"I am satisfied."
As the last tearing sensation faded, the soul was gone. Alek collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, drenched in cold sweat and pale as a sheet.
He felt a cold, sharp pain in his chest, as if something had been branded upon his heart.
The ritual continued, but the conversation that followed was exclusively between Yax and the projected form of the Great Demon who had descended.
Once Alek and the few ministers and Knights who had participated in the ritual left the room, Yax turned to the hazy silhouette of flame and bloodlight. He dropped to one knee and lowered his proud head.
"Great Master of the Furnace, embodiment of the will to burn and conquer, Yax is here to atone for his sins."
He spoke with difficulty. "Stormhold Fortress has fallen. The monsters of the swamp have already established a foothold in the Kingdom. I..."
"Enough." Casaric’s projection cut him off. His voice was flat, yet it carried the authority of a ruler.
"Yax, I know your strength. And I know even better the enemy you faced."
"That Slime is a Wise Man from the forest. It has the backing of the Elves, as well as even more ancient beings."
’A Wise Man?’
Yax froze. ’But what I saw was a purple, evil Slime—a Slime Demon King.’
He was filled with doubt, but when he saw Casaric’s eyes on him, he swallowed his words and bowed his head even lower.
"You have something to say?" Casaric asked lightly.
"I am merely frustrated. The Demon Legion was nearly wiped out, and I was the only one to escape..."
As he spoke, Yax felt his heart begin to pound. He was terrified, praying his lie would deceive the Great Demon, praying that Casaric wouldn’t ask for details.
Casaric’s eyes, which flowed with fire, simply stared at him. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice betraying no emotion. "Sacrifice souls and open an Abyssal Rift. I will dispatch another Demon Legion to you for the conquest of the White Horse Kingdom. There can be no failure this time."
"Yes, Lord Casaric!" Yax shouted with all his strength, though he inwardly sighed in relief.
"Mm..."
Casaric’s voice faded away. The flames and bloodlight in the room gradually dissipated. Once he was gone, the room was again shrouded in dim candlelight and shadow.
Yax remained alone in the center of the empty ritual chamber. After a long while, he slowly straightened up.
’He... he didn’t find out, did he?’
Yax was still uncertain, but at least he’d passed the test for now.
He composed himself and strode out of the room to meet Alek, who was waiting in the antechamber.
Alek’s face was still pale, but his gaze was deeper now, as if veiled by an irremovable shadow. He asked in a low voice, "Lord Yax, what do we do now?"
Yax looked at the human Prince who had just sold his soul and felt nothing. To him, Alek was merely a tool for his own disguise.