[Juviline Demon (Infant Stage)]
The most basic form of an Abyssal Demon.
They possess only rudimentary cognitive functions and operate purely on animal instinct.
While in lower-tier worlds they can easily tear apart tigers and wolves, or massacre hundreds of ordinary humans, within the Abyss, they're nothing more than useless trash and mobile rations.
[Minor demon (Young Demon)]
The second stage of an Abyssal Demon. Slaughtering one of these is hardly harder than killing a chicken.
Their intelligence is on par with a human child at best—barely qualifying them as sentient.
They can already wield a range of innate spell-like abilities, and their magic-infused scales grant them resistance to most conventional damage. As for their status?
Still food. Still cannon fodder.
[Lesser Demon]
The third stage of an Abyssal Demon. Killing an [Minor demon] at this level takes only a single strike.
Their intelligence has developed significantly. Depending on their evolution path, some are just barely above mentally challenged, while the smarter ones would make Einstein look like a chimpanzee.
At this level, demons begin developing unique innate abilities based on their potential. In lower-tier worlds, it's common for them to lay waste to entire cities or even nations.
Roughly speaking, this is when they start counting as part of the "main force" among Abyssal Demons. You could almost call them "citizens"—if the concept of citizenship existed among demons.
[High Demon]
The fourth stage. The power gap widens considerably. A casual spit from one of them could easily melt a weaker [Lesser Demon].
At this point, they've graduated from being cannon fodder. In the Abyss, they at least gain some semblance of safety.
At the very least, they won't die just by stepping out and being caught in a meteor firestorm or a lightning hurricane.
Their strength is considerable even by the standards of mid-tier universes.
With some effort, they can sink a continent. And if left unchecked, they could destroy an entire planet.
Even many of the weaker Gods might not be able to defeat them.
In the grand scheme of things, High Demons are the "squad leaders" of the demon cannon fodder corps.
[Greater Demon]
The fifth stage. An [High Demon] stands no chance in front of one—complete domination.
At this point, they've fully shed the label of "weak."
Within the Abyss, they can cause quite a stir.
They begin to exhibit traits of higher lifeforms—conventional means can't kill them; nukes won't mess up their hairstyle; they can tank a spaceship's main cannon without even a scratch.
They also gain the ability to wreak havoc on a massive scale.
They can traverse galaxies on their own, destroy mid-sized planets with ease, and through rituals or arcane methods, even annihilate entire star systems.
Just one of them wandering around can pose a major threat to interstellar civilizations.
Next comes the [Archdemon].
What is an Archdemon?
They are beings that stand at the apex of the multiversal food chain, with life structures that have evolved to the point of transcendence.
High-dimensional entities, super-beings, conceptual avatars... All of these terms barely begin to describe them.
Mortal attacks are essentially meaningless.
They don't even bother dodging.
Their own attacks also transcend the physical and spiritual realms.
They can inflict actual damage on the fabric of a universe itself.
Take a universe-type plane, for example. Destroying a few galaxies on the physical level?
Whether it's one or a hundred galaxies, it doesn't really matter.
Galaxies number in the billions. Destroying them physically doesn't mean anything if new ones are forming faster than you can break them.
Want to destroy the universe that way?
Even in a few billion years, you might not get it done.
But an Archdemon can directly tamper with the universe's foundational laws, drastically shortening its lifespan or even triggering its collapse—completely annihilating the universe in the true sense.
And as for a [Demon Lord]?
They've ascended to another level altogether.
According to Orsaga's understanding, each of them embodies a specific concept and has transcended the limitations of mortality.
Unless their layer of the Abyss is utterly destroyed, even death cannot touch them.
This trait alone makes them virtually indestructible by any conventional means.
Though the hierarchy of Abyssal Demons only has a few major ranks, the power gap between each stage widens exponentially.
In the beginning, Orsaga could still try to challenge higher tiers thanks to his "cheats." But eventually, even cheats couldn't help him skip ranks.
The stronger ones could kill him with a single gesture.
Inside a massive crater.
Standing amid countless Deathblooms, Orsaga took a few seconds to fully familiarize himself with his new powers.
Though this breakthrough had given him a significant boost in strength, all of it was merely the result of his accumulated foundation.
Thus, there was no risk of losing control.
Besides, in Orsaga's eyes, anyone who can't control their own power is trash.
And he refused to be trash.
In the next instant, without even lifting a finger, thousands of Spatial Spell Wheels activated behind him from his halo-like backrings, teleporting him from the crater back to the surface.
At that moment, a transmission attempted to cross spatial barriers and reach his mind—but was blocked automatically by the many layers of defense around his body.
Orsaga looked at the message, a trace of curiosity flashing in his expression.
Other than Golariel and her group, no one in the Abyss should have his contact information.
So this sudden message piqued his interest.
After confirming there were no traps, he accepted it.
Soon, the contents became clear.
The ruler of the Lava Wastelands, Demon Lord Ignarok, wanted to recruit him.
Besides the offer itself, the message included a list of proposed incentives:
Rulership over a high-tier universe, a custom-built personal demon army, various artifacts, and trillions upon trillions of souls—all the essentials an Abyssal Demon could ever need.
All of it, within a generous limit, was his to pick.
It was a massive offer, to say the least. He could've struck it rich right then and there.
And from the Abyssal Demon's perspective, that was fair payment. Ignarok was offering a lot—too much to ignore.
As he skimmed through the absurdly long list, Orsaga even spotted some unexpected entries:
[System: Customizable functions. Core ability is to absorb specific energy to manifest or enhance certain traits.]
[Reincarnation Space: Customizable. Core function is to send low-tier beings to other Universes for scouting and resource collection.]
[Child of the Universe's Destiny: Once used, grants…]
"…?"
Tail flicking, Orsaga scratched his head.
"Are these things available wholesale now?"
He felt his horizons broaden.
Almost reflexively, he glanced at the system panel in his own mind.
As for panic or disbelief?
None whatsoever.
Just mild surprise.
Back on the Talandra universe (World of Evil Spirits), he'd casually killed a fellow transmigrator who had a system.
So he knew these so-called "systems" weren't exactly rare treasures.
What surprised him was that they were mass-produced and customizable.
That was unexpected. It intrigued him.
Still, it wasn't nearly enough to make him join Ignarok.
He had never once sought out a boss to follow.
Not when he was weak. Even less so now.
So, Orsaga responded directly in the message—declining the offer.
That didn't mean he had to leave the Lava Wastelands, though.
Business is business—even if demons don't have much of a concept of honor.
Since he didn't accept the recruitment, he wouldn't be forcibly expelled. He still had full freedom to move around the area.
However, due to his immense power, while within the Wastelands, he had to restrain himself and was forbidden from using large-scale attacks.
If the damage exceeded the allowed limit, he'd have to compensate tenfold.
As for whether his own system might be dangerous?
Whether it was some kind of bait laid by a higher entity?
Whether he had become someone's pawn?
Orsaga didn't really care.
Why?
Because even in moments of near-death, he'd never feared. He'd endured the devouring of endless pain, experiencing death billions of times over.
After all that, was he supposed to be afraid of a scheme?
Please.
Sure, the system had helped him a lot—but all his strength came from bodies crushed beneath his feet, bought with blood and souls beyond counting.
The so-called system?
He never treated it as a trump card—just a convenient tool.
The number of creatures he's torn apart could cover ten thousand miles.
The enemies he's destroyed could wipe out countless mid- and low-tier planets.
The knowledge he's mastered could birth thousands of advanced civilizations.
Battle after battle. Knowledge upon knowledge.
He possessed absolute confidence. Absolute identity.
He was certain—no petty scheme could ever bring him down.
Only a true powerhouse could.
And if he died to such a being, so be it. There'd be no shame in that.
So whether there were tricks waiting in the shadows?
To Orsaga, it didn't matter at all.
Let them come.
_____
T/N:
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