The scarred demon swallowed hard. "Lord, we have only forty remaining. Out of which—" he paused, pain flashing across his weathered face "—ten are gravely injured. Five are children. The rest are soldiers. Twenty-five fighters, Lord."
Kaelen processed the numbers. Forty total. Twenty-five soldiers. Ten dying. Five useless.
"As for magic," the demon continued, "every demon can use it to some degree. Basic healing, minor elemental manipulation. Why do you ask?"
Kaelen met his eyes. "Use healing magic on me. Now."
The demon hesitated only a moment before placing his scarred hands on Kaelen's chest. Warmth spread through Kaelen's body—not the dark energy of the system, but something older, more instinctive. His HP ticked up slowly.
[HP: 41/100]
It wasn't much, but it would do.
Kaelen pushed himself up into a sitting position. The demon withdrew his hands, waiting.
Kaelen said, "get rid of the injured and the children."
Silence.
The demon stared at him.
"They are dead weight."
The demon's face shifted—confusion first, then disbelief, then horror.
"What?" The word came out choked. "Lord, how can we kill the children? They are the future of demons. They are all we have left."
Kaelen looked at him with those cold crimson eyes.
"There is no future if you don't kill them."
The demon said nothing. His hands trembled at his sides.
Kaelen tilted his head. "I thought demons were heartless."
A long pause.
"Guess not."
"But Lord—" the scarred demon started.
"I gave you an order." Kaelen's voice was flat. Final. "Obey it."
The demon's jaw tightened. For a moment, something flickered in his scarred face—rage, grief, defiance. Then it died. He bowed his head.
"Yes, Lord."
He turned to leave.
"One more thing," Kaelen said.
The demon stopped.
"Find me better clothes. Something that will keep the cold from killing me. These aren't enough."
The demon nodded and disappeared through the hut's entrance.
Kaelen waited until he heard his breathing even out, then pushed himself to his feet. His body ached. His HP was still dangerously low. But he needed to see.
He walked outside.
The cold hit him immediately, but the fire had warmed him enough to endure it. For now.
The camp spread before him—a small cluster of crude ice huts huddled together against the endless white. And in the center, laid out on the frozen ground, were bodies.
The injured. The children.
Dead.
Kaelen walked among them slowly, his boots crunching on snow. Small forms. Wasted forms. Faces frozen in whatever peace death had brought them. His expression did not change.
"Good," he said.
The demons who had done the killing stood nearby. They had followed his order. They had killed their own. But the looks on their faces—horror, shame, disgust—told him everything.
They were glad to have a leader.
But the leader had no morals.
That was something they hadn't expected.
Kaelen turned to face them. His white hair caught the wind. His crimson eyes swept over their horrified faces.
"Now cut them up," he said. "And store them."
A long, terrible silence.
"They are our primary food source."
Before any of them could respond, a translucent blue screen flashed before his vision.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[Rank Updated]
[Initiate → Rank 1]
[Sins Committed: 38 (+1)]
[Experience Gained: 150]
[Reason: Killing of fellow demons (for survival)]
[New Ability Points Available: 3]
Kaelen stared at the screen.
Initiate. That had been his rank since Azrael gave him the system. He had assumed it would increase with time, with training, with something.
But it increased with killing.
He needed to kill someone to activate his rank. To advance. To grow stronger.
The system rewarded death.
His smile returned, colder than the wind cutting across the frozen plain.
The demons watching him saw that smile—saw their new leader reading something only he could see, saw the cold amusement on his face moments after ordering them to butcher their own—and a new kind of fear settled into their bones.
Kaelen closed the notification and looked at them.
"Well?" he said. "I gave an order."
They moved.
...
The Celestial Chamber hummed with power.
Goddess Seraphina stood before the summoning circle, her silver hair glowing in the ethereal light. Five crystals floated before her, each one pulsing with a different color—red, blue, green, gold, and purple. This time, there would be no mistake.
She had felt it the moment Azrael died. The moment his essence transferred to another. The moment the monster she accidentally summoned became something far more dangerous.
Kaelen Vance lived.
And he would come for them.
Seraphina closed her eyes, focusing her divine energy on the ritual. The first summoning had been rushed, desperate, chaotic. It had pulled a murderer because her magic had been unfocused, reaching blindly into Earth's void and grabbing whatever soul was closest.
This time, she was precise. She reached past the legends, past the warriors, past the famous names of history. She reached for ordinary people. Because ordinary people, given power, could become extraordinary.
And ordinary people would not be corrupted like Kaelen had been.
The crystals flared together.
The circle ignited.
And they came.
Five bodies hit the marble floor in a tangle of limbs and confusion.
Marcus Webb scrambled up first, jeans and work boots, hands calloused from construction. He immediately assumed a fighter's stance, eyes darting around the chamber.
Priya Sharma landed badly, twisting her ankle, still in her hospital scrubs. She bit back a cry of pain and looked around with wide, terrified eyes.
Darnell Jackson tumbled out of the light with his basketball still tucked under his arm. He caught himself on one hand, pushed up, and stared at everything like he was hallucinating.
Yuki Tanaka landed gracefully despite the chaos, adjusted her glasses, smoothed her skirt, and took in every detail with calm, observant eyes.
Carlos Reyes hit the ground last, rolled with the impact out of pure muscle memory, and came up in a low crouch. His worn leather jacket creaked. His eyes were tired but alert.
They looked at each other.
They looked at the goddess.
Darnell spoke first, because he was nineteen and had no filter. "Yo, someone better explain what's happening before I lose my mind."
Priya gripped her ankle. "I was at work. I was just—where are we?"
Marcus kept his stance. "Everyone stay calm. Let's figure this out."
Yuki adjusted her glasses. "The architecture suggests we are no longer on Earth. The being before us appears to be—"
"A goddess," Carlos finished quietly. He had seen enough strange things in his life to recognize when he was out of his depth. "She's a goddess."
Seraphina raised her hand.
Silence fell.
"I know you're scared," she said. "I know you don't understand. But I need you to listen."
She told them. The war. The demons. Azrael's death. And Kaelen Vance—the murderer who had been summoned before them, who had been made a demon, who now led what remained of the enemy.
"He will unite them," she said. "He will wreak havoc. He will strike from shadows. And if he is not stopped, everyone on this world will suffer."
Marcus crossed his arms. "So you want us to fight him."
"Yes."
Priya's voice was small. "We're not soldiers. We're just—"
"You are heroes," Seraphina interrupted, her voice firm. "You are heroes, and I will give you blessings."
She raised her hand, and power flowed from her.
Marcus received the Blessing of the Bulwark. Physical durability increased. When protecting others, damage taken reduced.
Priya received the Blessing of Restoration. Healing magic doubled. Could remove poisons and diseases.
Darnell received the Blessing of Swiftness. Movement speed increased. Reflexes doubled.
Yuki received the Blessing of Clarity. Information processed three times faster. Never forgot a face or detail.
Carlos received the Blessing of the Sentinel. Could sense hidden enemies. Never surprised by attack.
The blessings settled into them like second nature.
Seraphina looked at each of them in turn.
"Protect humanity."
The crystals flared.
And they vanished—each to a different continent, each alone, each carrying the same task.