Adrian felt the unmistakable and, at that moment, comforting oily sensation on his hands. It was the saponification of his own skin reacting to the bleach; that oily viscosity that made his fingers slide against each other while the water ran, washing away part of the unmistakable bodily fluid of that woman.
The pungent smell flooded his nose the more he rubbed. When he felt his skin burning from so much scrubbing, he stopped to look at his life decisions for the brief instant in which his skin returned to that healthy tone. He had too many reasons to be furious, to sink into sadness or remorse, but not for sexual lust, at least not in these moments.
And although he had said that he was going to delight in all the mortal pleasures of the world, he first hoped to adapt to his new form of existence, verify how powerful he was, confirm what supernatural beings exist in the world and on what comparative scale to their power he stands. It simply was not the right time. Things do not go as he would wish them to go; that was the only thing he could think about because of the sequence of events that had led him to this moment.
A bit bitter but at the same time laughing sarcastically about how he had been somewhat disturbed by what that woman could have done to him with her fluids to the point of losing his senses for a moment. Recapping what he had obtained from using [Appreciation] on the liquid he brought in that test tube, he did not have to worry.
"So it was only that..." was the little he said while he slowly watched the information flow. Like a harmless joke disguised as something dangerous was his verdict on all this.
[Aphrodisiac of the Great Mother][Intrinsic Ability][Long lasting aphrodisiac that induces the desire for procreation in both the caster of the ability and the receiver, this aphrodisiac temporarily increases fertility to a great extent]
A damn aphrodisiac, just that. He almost facepalmed at that, almost being the keyword since he first had to wash his hands hard enough so the intense smell would not bother him.
When he was sane enough to consider that he was not in a porn parody of some universe and deciding that he did NOT care if he were, he continued with the course of action he had already decided.
He took the cleaning products as he began to clean everything, starting with the kitchen which frankly was a mess of fluids, red stains, and half finished bottles lying everywhere. With the help of a little subtly used magic, added to quite a bit of physical strength, the stains disappeared in a matter of minutes. Using magic for something as mundane as cleaning allowed me to establish a general idea of how magic actually works in broad terms.
According to my instinctive knowledge, what I call a "spell" is Aspectual Magic, if I want to be technical. It is a system that allows imagined phenomena to manifest in reality using the same set of laws as the World Language or, more understandably, local physical laws by making use of Magicules, which can be considered in broad terms a particle or energy highly susceptible to the thought of conscious beings. This type of magic allows me to skip the natural process to arrive directly at the result; it is as if magic were a race where, instead of traveling the path to the finish line, you simply appear at the end as if the race had already finished as soon as it begins just because the goal was to finish the race. It has zero logical sense, but it is magic in a literal way: I had to break the world one way or another.
However, the most revealing thing is the hierarchy of the spell: the main component is always the magicules that carry the embodied image of the one who casts it. Given the nature of the energy, it is something obvious but that you would overlook very easily if you were not told. Any visual or imaginable phenomenon, such as fire, ice, or even a curse, is simply an incidental tertiary component rather than the central focus. It is as if magic were imagining with pure energy, while what manifests physically is not, in itself, the core or objective of it.
As a result of this, it is impossible to do things like extinguish a magical flame with ordinary water, since the essence of the phenomenon is not physical combustion as such, but energy imbued with pure will. For this same reason, even this superficial magic is capable of affecting and damaging spiritual life forms like myself if its objective is to damage, since it operates on the same fundamental level of existence of being embodied will.
In this world with a clear lack of environmental magic or magic in general; because I will not count that woman's ability, since I did not feel any form of supernatural energy in her, or it was immensely low. I will simply assume that magic only exists in certain circles or that the scarcity of it prevents the emergence of beings capable of manipulating it, or in the worst case, one or several beings keep it for themselves. The truth is that he did not know anything.
More theories for the list of things to find out, you know, the list was getting longer and longer. But putting his diatribes aside, he focused on finishing cleaning everything fast enough with the help of his magic to be able to start experimenting with his powers.
...
After what was a very short session of cleaning, washing, and drying everything in the house mostly done by magic as well as his massive physical strength in relation to his body, Adrian could call this place "clean" without embarrassing himself for having to walk on a sticky floor, a product of his addiction to drinking.
With no more things to say or more excuses to make, it was time to test his more "peculiar" abilities, if one can call it that, the fact of creating a dimension of his own. Seeing the knowledge that will bring the end of times and the taboos of magic itself seemed strange enough to him to call them that way.
He moved to a more discreet place where the crackling of some magical lights would not be easily noticed, well, as easily as it would be for the supernatural beings of this world to notice. The place was the basement where he first woke up a few hours ago. He erected a simple barrier around the place; it should be said that since he was inexperienced in the magical arts but at the same time had an instinctive knowledge of magic itself, the barrier would only hide the energy within the place without doing anything more than that.
The way the barrier worked was a tangle in which the barrier itself merged with how the environment worked, which meant it was like putting on camouflage clothing inside a forest so that as long as you were in the right place, it meant you would not be noticed.
Anyway, putting the magic barrier aside, he began to use [Spiritual Plane], this time consciously for the first time since he had been "born." The ability worked in a similar way to [Material Creation] in the fact that it took part of the Magicules to give them a more defined form, but that is where the similarities ended since the energy did NOT stabilize completely because he also had to create more or less immaterial things like the space to occupy, gravity, among other factors so that everything simply worked without falling apart with a thought, but fluid enough to be able to mold it because, well, as he had already experienced, this energy is very susceptible to both conscious and non conscious thoughts.
Now the creation of such a place did not have something like a visual indicator nor was it as esoteric as one might think. In his hands, a sphere that was a "reflection" of the [Spiritual Plane] he was creating. He had many limitations as to what he could do in this place; the biggest limitation was that he could not add so much "space" all at once because if he did, the thing could break into energy presumably creating a deployment in real space, which would mean that everything in the surrounding area would expand like a sudden explosion. In short, he only knew this instinctively thanks to, well, a healthy combination of the ability itself and [Great Analyst]. Well, other limitations were that he could not put things so far removed from reality itself, not so much because it was not entirely possible but because he would have to re-design everything himself like changing the architecture which, well, he was only testing the power so it was not worth it.
Lastly, there was the excessive consumption of creating something, since he had only been at this for a couple of minutes and the blank space only had about 100m in diameter, being a perfect sphere, when he was spending almost 40% of his energy reserves. So he decided to stop with the expansion of the place. With a quick calculation, that meant it was a little more than 3/4 of a hectare, which was like a small neighborhood in terms of net space.
Now he had a place that was a complete blank slate over which he was the ruler. Bah, it was more like playing a game in creative mode; sure, you could be very, very powerful but you were still tied to the rules and physics of the game, but details. One could say that what followed was just a Minecraft session without slavery involved.
At least he took the trouble to put some effort into his dimension, you know, something that shouted: "Yes, this is a hellish plane, my dear sinner." Although the little space did not allow for such large constructions since he filled half of the sphere with ground. Yes, ground; if not, every construction would have to be light, which I did not want to bother doing, so I simply went for the easy option. But in the future he will simply add more space since this place felt quite small. Regarding the general construction of things, it was a relatively flat valley covered in black rock making paths among which countless plants related to vines grew. I put black glassy rocks about ten meters high at the ends that delimited the place, each of these glowing in a more than profane color with inscriptions made so that when seen they transmitted a sin by the very shape of the writing design as well as the moving energy giving it that touch. In total, the four main cardinal points were occupied by the sins of wrath, pride, gluttony, and lust, while the intermediate points were filled by greed, sloth, envy, and cruelty.
Since I would be entering and leaving the plane frequently, I created a stereotypical high fantasy demonic base, you know, a castle embedded in a gigantic bedrock as if it had been carved from the same dark stone. The base itself occupied a few 30x30 meters. The castle itself is a relatively high castle a little more than forty meters high. Well, the castle was as stereotypical as possible but that did not take away from the fact that it was a beauty of Gothic architecture, having no less than seven visible floors in its central part and one underground, resulting in eight. I hope it shows that I am trying hard to be as much of a dark lord as possible. This castle is separated by a moat of purplish red liquid, and from such fluid, vines like those of a blackberry grew upwards, spreading randomly among the rock itself.
The place had a day and night cycle, but the day was not such a bright moment since there was no sun as such, besides the violet clouds that crossed the sky gave the appearance of a cloudy place. In the supposed night, a moon of green mother of pearl shone while darkness was the rule.
All this gave an extremely ancient look as if a civilization had perished in the place to be replaced by the indivisible chaos of dark forces. You know, all that edge lord stuff. The things I could complain about is that it is quite small; there was barely a little space between the rocks of sin and the moat of dark wine. I feel I could have put more effort into this, but I had already been at this for over an hour and had exhausted approximately 60% of my energy with the constructions. Although more importantly, I had to enter the place myself to test the rest of my abilities.
Which was simply easy; I mean, I entered with the body I was possessing. The air was charged with energy because, well, in essence, it was that. It was like my natural environment, one full of dense magic that you could feel just by looking closely, but apart from that, there were no sensations as indescribable as one might think I experienced. I did not mention how I felt the sweet clouds of sugary juices in my mouth when my wings, which I simply materialized, kept me in flight high above the castle. But well, that is not what I came here for. Taking note of how in the supermarket the feeling of strangeness when I touched those grapes, I brought them to see why they reacted to the ability [Shadow Harvest].
I did not know what it did or, well, yes, you see, most of what I know as a demon is instinctive, which does not say much. Like breathing, you just do it, although of course there are doctors who can explain how everything works at a detailed level, but it is learned knowledge, not something instinctive, and in this situation he is not the doctor in question. But if so, then will he invariably bring the end of the world or is that a mistaken assumption? He will have to investigate.
That was my situation regarding this; I knew the grapes had something to do with my ability, so I brought them, but I did not know what they were for or what part of the process they symbolized in the consecration of the harvest.
That was until I saw myself squeezing the grapes like mere rotten fruits. It was not a common decomposition, no more and no less, since it involved magic. The fruits boiled in my hands, spilling into a completely fermented liquid. The subtly sweet but soured smell with a touch of salt flooded his senses, but they were not those poor senses of his easily alterable human body, clearly not; it was his metaphysical senses buzzing with anticipation at this aspect of the harvest, a dish already served, something already harvested so simply.
It was only a bunch of grapes, but it did not seem like the falling of that sticky elixir would ever end, like an infinite river to the excesses of the mind. But he knew. This compound so devilish in his hands did not really come from the grapes, that would be silly; this came from his purest emotions. The sweetness was his happiness to be alive, experiencing things he had never managed to do in his world of origin, while the sour part was the result of how he felt about all his other conflicting emotions.
With some expectation, he tasted a couple of drops of this liquid black as the darkest pitch in the universe. The sensation upon coming into contact with his demonic essence was more than spectacular. An explosion of ecstasy shot out of him, resonating with his will among indescribable sensations that intermingled with his being as if he himself were emotion itself. Colors that will never exist outside the most crazily twisted imagination passed through his eyes like exotic flavors, melodies intoned by physics breaking among the chants of fanaticism of mortals fallen into the endless excesses of the soul, the despair of the end of all things mixing with hope among the blood of fallen heroes, the cries of newborns like a discordant chorus, never ending laughter as if that recurring joke were told in your ear better each time, the pleasure of being torn apart and put back together as something better among the fallen parts of oneself.
It was an exquisite delight as beautiful as it was horrendous but to his regret... it was incomplete. It was missing something fundamental that could not be replicated or replaced in the formula... Souls.
The last ingredient was that for which any being could fight, its reason for existing, what allowed them to be thinking beings, that philosopher's stone that defines the being itself as one.
He looked at the incomplete elixir in his hands as if it were the answer or question to all things in the universe. He did not know what decision to take, but he did not. It was not yet the time to take the reins of something so important; first, the scale of the destiny of this world had to be raised before taking that decision.
Taking a last sip, he understood everything in a madness of magic, emotions, and more madness. This was not the only way to prepare this irresistible temptation, but it would always be incomplete if the main ingredient, which he lacked at the moment, was not used.
I looked at myself for a moment in the nauseating reflection of the dark wine moat. It was not the first time in the day that I did something like reflect, but this time it was not because of a thing like sadness or my own helplessness but because of something else. It was not a silly reflection in which I was upset; I simply found myself blank as if I did not know how to process something, as if accepting reality was like taking a flame of fire with bare hands simply because a small gust of cold wind had passed a moment ago.
He did not get lost in his thoughts, for he had not finished yet. He had to test his last ability [Dark Mage] to define what a corrupt knowledge in magic is.
Then with a more than poisonous thought, he whispered to himself the answers he did not want to accept, for he had already understood what this ability was about if his assumptions were correct (and he would not have to explain why they are) but that is beside the point, it is time to focus.
With a breath of air, energy gathered between his fingers still sticky from that macabre elixir. He searched through his mind for emotions of frustration as if he wanted to make everyone see them; he found his own pride exalting in his own actions; he tore the lust for that wide hipped woman; he took the previous ecstasy as a guide. The energy fused with the emotions into something that could only be described as the cancer of magic. A black mist like smoke gathered between his fingers. Like the chewing of insects, he felt his fingers bleeding, the blood turning as black as that smoke. The wounds did not close as they should; nerves being burned by that sensation of oppression reached his mind; he felt the light crackling of his bones while his fingers curved in incorrect directions under the force of inhuman emotions. But this was not real, only a mere illusion of pain that he paid for using such taboo power, a cheap price compared to what others have to give for it.
He thought about what to say since names had power. One word too many along with a poorly framed thought and Adrian could really get into trouble, so he played it safe with what he wanted to achieve, simple allegories not very specific to minor and incomplete concepts by themselves.
He felt that the longer he waited, the more he would feed the existence of this taboo of magic, so he simply "cursed" into the air. His tongue felt burning as if it were being scorched while worms crawled among it and what came out of him was not the power of will but something deeper within the psyche itself. His voice broke part of the air that, like magic, refused to be part of this twisted act while the words came out.
"[Dream of Rubies]"
The dark, hateful, and completely harmful magic moved among dark emotions like thread in a loom. As soon as his voice finished that chant, as if it were a twisted mockery of those childish words released into the air, it resonated, converging in the pure and immaculate light of a red crystal that once decorated the crowns of royalty that ruled the ancient world with the blood of their relatives running endlessly through their hands in search of that so ephemeral power. The coppery taste of a prostitute getting rid of those bothersome unwanted children still growing in her womb, the idealization of a small child asking for candies from his exhausted mother, so many contrasts before that crystalline light coming from the dream of a god of madness.
Everything that precious light touched was transfigured, losing all sense of existing. Even in a place where everything was essentially energy, it transformed into a child's desire for more sugar. The rocks shone with that sticky ruby color while, at a strike barely stronger than that of an adult woman, they crumbled into a beautiful sand of crystalline gems. The vines that were reached shrieked, writhing like snakes placed alive in the fire, but the resistance lasted little before the light of rubies while a smell of hot candy reached his senses.
For all intents and purposes, this was a madness of sensations. He only needed the sand of red gems in his hand to know that dark magic was anything but something to play with. The sensations of pain were very real while its effects were strange enough even for him. How the hell was it that he made magic become something material was the true unknown; if you thought about it, that was... impossible by normal means, but who said dark magic was normal. For the love of all sins, if it was capable of affecting magic itself, then well, he does not have to explain the connotation, right?
He took a bit of the crystal as if it were a mundane candy while he lost himself a bit among his thoughts about how fun all this was, never forgetting that he still had to answer many other questions for himself in this new world full of possibilities.