The Damned Demon

Chapter 384  Not Fear But Embrace It

Asher seated solemnly in the heart of the training chamber, the Tome of Fallen Souls spread open before him. The page was aglow with mystical runes, each one pulsating with an eerie light that seemed to beckon him into the depths of an ancient and perilous power. He knew that what lay ahead was a grueling ordeal, a test of both will and strength. As he prepared to etch the runes into his mana circuit, a sense of foreboding washed over him, yet his determination remained unshaken.

He began the meticulous process, his fingers tracing the intricate symbols. Each rune seemed to vibrate against his skin, sending a jolt of energy coursing through his body. As the last rune was etched, the world around him started to distort, blurring at the edges until he was enveloped in a swirling vortex of darkness.

Abruptly, the tumult ceased, and Asher found himself standing in an illusory world, a realm of shadows and fire. The ground beneath his feet was scorched and barren, the sky overhead a mix of crimson and black. In the distance, a massive, winged silhouette loomed, its presence emanating power and fury.

As Asher stepped forward, the ground beneath him cracked, the air around him thickened with heat and menace. The colossal winged creature turned its formidable head towards him, its eyes blazing like coals. *ROAARRRRR!*

It let out a roar that shook the very fabric of the illusory world, a sound that reverberated in Asher’s bones.

“Finally, you were foolish enough to summon me, mortal,” Ghoroq’s voice was a rumbling thunder, echoing through the void, “You tricked me during the trial, and my intellect and power were limited by the chamber. But now you better pray for a quick death even though you won’t get one.”

Asher stared up at the colossal fiery eyes in the darkness and said confidently, “I wouldn’t judge myself this early. Why don’t you first show me what you have got?”

Ghoroq growled, “How arrogant…I will make you burn those words in your mouth,” Saying so, Ghoroq opened its huge maws, and out came a flood of soul-scorching flames that threatened to engulf Asher.

“Damn…” Asher’s eyes widened as the sheer heat from the flames was about to melt his skin despite the flames being hundreds of feet away.

He had no choice but to immediately transform into his Hellbringer form and dash away from Ghoroq.

*WHOOOOSH!*

But even before he could cover a couple of feet, the flames had already engulfed him and reduced him to ashes, only to regenerate again once the flames passed over.

‘Damn, what kind of a monster is this…’ Asher wondered if he bit more than he could chew off. But there was no choice, and he was determined to get stronger before facing off against the Draconians.

Asher found himself pushed to his absolute limits while jumping into his Damned Dimension to recover his mana reserves. However, he couldn’t stay there forever, and he could only enter it thrice a day. But Ghoroq seemed determined to not let him catch a break and kept reducing him to ashes again and again while letting out contemptuous growls.

Finally, he ran out of tickets to his dimension, and the relentless pursuit of Ghorqo’s cursed flames drained him of his mana, leaving him incapable of transforming into his Hellbringer form. Every step felt like wading through an ocean of despair, his body weighed down by exhaustion and his mind clouded by the searing heat.

Ghorqo towered over him, its eyes alight with a cruel amusement, “How foolish of you to think you could run from my flames,” it bellowed, its voice echoing like thunder through the desolate landscape, “Everyone who tried has perished in agony, and so shall you, mortal.”

Asher, his back against the proverbial wall, clenched his fists tightly. This can’t be it. But Ghoroq’s words caused a sudden realization, an enlightenment dawned upon him, cutting through the haze of exhaustion like a blade. He slowly turned to face the colossal wyvern, determination etched on his weary face, “If I can’t run, then I’ll face your flames head-on,” he declared, his voice resonating with a newfound resolve.

Ghorqo’s laughter was a cacophony that shook the very air, “Has the smell of death muddled your head?” it mocked, incredulous at the mortal’s audacity.

“No,” Asher replied, his gaze unwavering and his tone solemn, “To truly understand your power, I must first embrace it, not run away from it. If I run away, then it means I fear your power. How can I comprehend something I fear?”

Ghorqo narrowed its fiery eyes, scrutinizing this puny thing who dared challenge it, “How arrogant of you to think that you can endure my flames, let alone understand them. But your thoughts aren’t misplaced. Let’s see if you can keep up with your arrogance, mortal,” With a snarl, Ghorqo unleashed a torrential breath of hellfire upon Asher, a conflagration so intense it seemed to warp the very fabric of the illusory world.

Asher stood his ground as the inferno engulfed him. His skin felt as though it were melting from his bones, his senses overwhelmed by the unbearable heat.

An excruciating agony unlike any other seared through him. It felt as though his very soul was aflame, each fiber of his being scorched from the inside out. The world around him blurred, his senses teetering on the edge of oblivion. Death loomed close, a specter waiting to claim him in its fiery embrace.

But within the heart of this conflagration, a defiant will stirred. Asher refused to be vanquished by the flames. Instead, he focused his mind, channeling his indomitable spirit. He sought not to resist the fire but to become one with it, to weave it into the fabric of his soul. The flames that sought to consume him were to become a part of his very essence, a power under his command.

With a deep, primal roar, Asher unleashed the surge of power that welled up within him. Dark green infernal flames burst forth from his mouth, a spectacle of otherworldly might. Simultaneously, he felt the emergence of bony wings sprouting from his back, granting him the gift of flight. He soared upwards, a figure reborn from the ashes of his trial, a master of the cursed flames.

Ghorqo, witnessing this transformation, let out a low, approving growl, “What a pleasant surprise. You not only have a strong will but also the heart to use it where necessary,” it said, its tone tinged with a mix of surprise and smug satisfaction, “This makes you worthy to wield my power.”

Asher, now floating in the air, faced the fallen spirit, “Use this power to instill terror on as many of them as you can,” Ghorqo commanded, “Let them know the terror of my flames as they perish.”

Asher bowed respectfully in midair, a sly smile playing on his lips, “That is a given,” he promised, his voice echoing with newfound power.

As the words left his mouth, the illusory world began to fade, the landscape dissolving into nothingness. Asher found himself back in the training chamber, his body and mind exhausted but invigorated by the ordeal he had just endured. [ You have gained a Talent ]

[ You have gained a Skill ]

Talents:

Talent (Inactive: Ghoroq – +30% Mana consumption): [ Strength from Terror – All your stats increase by 1% every 10 seconds as long as your enemies are terrified of your power. Upon deactivation, the power you gained will be taken from your original stats temporarily for 10 minutes (1/20) )

Skills:

Skill (Inactive: Ghoroq): [ Cursed Flame Breath – Spews forth a living maelstrom of destruction that corrupts everything it touches, twist life into desolation, and turn vitality into decay (Cost: 2000 MP/ second) (Cooldown: 20 minutes) (Cast time: 5 seconds) (0/25) ]

“Insanely powerful but cursed…” Asher mumbled as he took a look at the new Talent and Skill he comprehended.

He could see that Ghoroq’s Talent basically had a cooldown of ten minutes if he wanted to use it without the risk of weakening himself once he stopped using the Talent.

This meant that he had to be careful about using Ghoroq’s powers since they can’t be used in quick succession like he did with Rakshasa, Girgal, and Doomfall’s powers.

However, seeing the Cursed Flame Breath and the talent he gained, he could tell it was quite powerful and probably worth the disadvantages. He can quickly gain absurd amount of power but at the cost of running out of MP way faster.

“Oh fuck…” He tried to get up, only to grimace as he sat back down, forgetting that he was completely drenched in sweat and feeling pretty drained.

“Merina…” Asher called out through his mind, and immediately the doors swung open,

“Master!” Merina, dressed in her maid clothes, bowed as she rushed in with a small bucket of cool, vitalizing liquid and a clean towel.

However, hearing his voice and seeing him looking alright despite the exhaustion made her feel relieved. She still dreaded the memory of that day when he almost died, and Isola had to come in and save him.

“Are you feeling okay, Master?” Merina worriedly asked as she quickly crouched and dipped the towel into the bucket.

Asher tried to blink away his exhaustion but only heard Merina’s gentle, sweet voice and his eyes landing on her deep cleavage as she leaned forward.

“I need this first…” Asher mumbled weakly as he hugged her waist and let his face snuggle on top of her squishy, big breasts. The warmth of her soft skin and the comforting fragrance from her body was enough to turn the lights off in his head.

“Ahn!~” Merina was startled, but then she felt him dozing off and helplessly smiled as she slowly raised her hands to caress his head, “Rest well while I take care of you, Master.”