Chaos Warlord: Reincarnated in Eldrich with the Devil System!

Having claimed the Cursed Weapon, Val turned to exit the Terrace of Darkness. However, upon reaching the door, he discovered it was securely locked. 𝓞𝒱𝓛xt.𝗇𝓔t

Val wasn’t taken aback by this minor inconvenience. He simply curled his hand into a fist, ready to knock to alert the guard outside that he was locked inside the terrace.

He struck the door once.

The knock was clear and resounding, echoing throughout the quiet, eerie space like a sentinel’s drumbeat.

Wa! Mommy!

The unexpected sound jolted the guards stationed outside. It was an unexpected interruption to the heavy silence that had previously reigned. It caused their hearts to pound rhythmically against their chests, each beat as loud as the knock itself.

They were terrified. After all, Val had barely been inside for five minutes. An ordinary man would have hardly had time to even glance upon a cursed artifact, much less gain control over one. The notion that he could be ready to leave so soon was unfathomable.

They couldn’t help but think that something otherworldly had caused that knock. The thought sent a chill down their cowardly spines!

Richard gulped his fear and called out, “Who’s there?”

His voice was wavering with tension, showcasing that he was as terrified as everyone, but even then he still dared to do what was necessary.

“Who else could it be but me?” Val’s cool voice penetrated the thick door, tinged with a hint of amusement. “Hurry up and open the door, Richard.”

“Give me a moment, Master Val,” Richard hastily replied, his trembling hands fumbling with the seal.

Feeling guilty, others also joined in

Under the influence of the corruptive force of the terrace, they had inadvertently locked Young Master Val within the Terrace of Darkness. The realization dawned upon Richard and the others, and their heart seemed to sink to their stomach!

Their hands, now slick with sweat, slipped as they tried to break the seal.

Finally, after a few tense moments, the door creaked open, revealing the young man.

Val stepped out of the Terrace of Darkness, his hand gripping the hilt of an enigmatic sword that seemed to be pulsating with something sinister, a sheen of black covering its icy, cold surface.

A single look at it, and they were able to tell that it was a Cursed Weapon.

The sight was astounding enough to make the jaws of the guards of the Terrace of Darkness drop. Not just that, but their eyes also bulged so wide that it seemed they might just pop out of their sockets with a simple pat on their back.

They stared at Val in shock, their minds unable to process the surreal scene unfolding before them.

The young man, who they once dismissed as a mere normie, was now holding a Cursed Weapon that not even the most talented youngster of their Whitemore family could wield without immense struggle.

It was a sight they’d never expected to witness!

“I…I must be seeing things,” stuttered one of the guards, his hand aggressively rubbing at his eyes as if the act would erase the spectacle before him.

“What on earth?” Terry exclaimed, his shock momentarily causing him to forget the throbbing pain in his broken wrist. His eyes almost seemed to bulge from their sockets as he gaped at Val in utter disbelief.

Guard Richards, on the other hand, remained mute. His mouth hung agape, but words eluded him. He brought a trembling hand to his forehead, rubbing it vigorously as if the gesture could wipe away a troubling illusion.

“You…you’ve…” Terry stammered, his shaky finger pointing at the sword in Val’s grasp. “How… that’s… that’s impossible! I must be hallucinating,” he gasped, slapping his own cheeks in a futile attempt to wake from what he hoped was a dream.

Meanwhile, having failed to snap out of his supposed dream, Richard pinched his arm. The biting pain served as a sharp reminder of reality.

“It’s…it’s real…” he whispered, mostly to himself, “…even the family patriarch needed five hours to subdue a rank-3 cursed artifact… but Young Master Val… he did it in mere minutes. How can that be?”

+10 Mad Points!

+20 Mad Points!

+40 Mad Points!

A pleasing alert echoed in Val’s mind.

He realized that he can easily earn mad points by giving others a shock of their life. He decided to do more shocking deeds in the future!

‘In their bewilderment lies my fortune.’ Val thought as a slight, icy smile graced his lips.

As he smiled, a wave of chill went down the spines of the onlookers. They misread his expression, assuming he was upset about being locked inside. However, his glee was due to the rise in his Mad Points, which had now hit the hundred mark.

He promptly exchanged them for a stat point.

“Nothing is impossible for me.” Val declared, his voice cool and composed, as he walked away.

The guards, who were at a loss for words, were left behind. The entire event seemed to have struck them mute, their minds failing to comprehend how Val had accomplished such a feat of subduing a cursed weapon in minutes.

“A mere youngster handling a Cursed Weapon with such ease… it’s unheard of. Is… is this the true power of the Whitemore bloodline?” the guards of the terrace stammered as they watched him go away.