Consciousness returns slowly, dragging me out of the darkness with the weight of exhaustion pressing down on my body.
The first thing I notice is pain. A dull, aching throb that hums through my veins, like my entire body is still recalibrating from the hell I just put it through. My limbs feel heavy, my mind sluggish for a moment.
The second thing I notice is that I am back in my room.
I open my eyes, blinking against the dim lighting. The familiar, lavish surroundings of my gilded cage greet me - the four-poster bed, the polished bookshelves still filled with their cursed collection of teen vampire novels, the expensive alcohol stocked neatly at the personal bar. Everything is exactly as I left it.
Almost everything. I spy my Evil Pieces, all of them mutated, laying in a small extravagant container on my nightstand.
The wards are also different.
I can feel them, an almost physical weight pressing against my skin, more intricate than before. I had sensed them before, of course, but this? This is overkill.
Not just containment wards - surveillance.
They're watching me.
As I thought, they never intend for me to walk away after.
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself into a sitting position. My muscles protest, stiff from the strain of the ritual, but I ignore the discomfort.
Then it hits me.
The power.
My demonic energy has exploded in scope, no longer the carefully controlled well I had been forced to work with to slowly build it up to High-Class. It's different. Bigger, more potent.
Ultimate-Class.
I let out a sharp exhale, my lips curling into something between a smirk and a snarl.
I have it.
For the first time since I was reborn in this hellhole, I have enough.
Enough power. Enough energy.
I throw my head back against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling as the sheer relief crashes over me like a tidal wave.
Four hundred years.
Four hundred years of suffering, of being shackled to a monster. Four hundred years of clawing for scraps, of hiding every ounce of growth, of building myself up in the shadows, waiting, waiting.
And all the while, my true power had been right there at the tip of my fingertips, unreachable.
The moment I was reincarnated as a devil, I knew I had something extra. A power that didn't belong to my enslaver, one that whispered of something more. I could feel it - like an ember waiting for fuel, waiting for the strength to be kindled into a fire.
The power to open portals to elsewhere.
Somehow I just knew.
The power to leave.
To escape.
And yet, it had remained just out of reach. There, but unusable, demanding more energy than I could ever hope to muster by myself without another century or two now - let alone back then.
Until now.
I exhale, sitting forward, resting my forearms on my knees as my gloved hands flex and curl, demonic energy sparking at my fingertips.
I can do it.
I can leave. Now.
The thought sends a shudder through me, something caught between exhilaration and pure, unfiltered disbelief.
For centuries, I had dreamed of this moment. Had planned for it. Had waited. Had hoped, prayed.
Even yesterday, even right before the ritual, I hadn't truly believed I'd make it.
Probably why I poked Grafiya so easily, now that I think about it.
And now it's here. The moment.
I glance around the room, my gaze landing on the shelves, the bar, the obnoxiously soft sheets. The warded door. The lack of windows. I know that Grafiya will be here soon, checking in, making sure I'm still locked in my cage.
I won't be here when she arrives.
But first…
I hesitate.
Should I leave them the information I promised? Or stiff them?
It would be easy to just disappear, to leave them empty-handed, to let Sirzech stew in his own failure.
But… if I ever return before I can kill them, I'd rather not have them too antagonistic.
A thought is all it takes. I reach into my pocket space, my personal dimensional storage. Most devils of a certain strength have something similar, but mine is bigger.
Because unlike most devils, I actually understand how space works.
Ajuka probably has a minor country in his, if not a whole damn planet, I think, not willing to call myself even close to his level.
I pull out a notebook, flipping it open with one hand, skimming through the pages. Issei's location. Tidbits on Rizevim and the Khaos Brigade. Enough to be valuable, but not everything.
I let out a chuckle, shaking my head.
Sirzechs is going to be so pissed when he realizes Issei was right there, in the same damn city as his sister.
I toss the notebook onto the bed, the pages fanning out slightly.
There.
Done.
No more hesitating.
I stand, rolling my shoulders, feeling the power surge beneath my skin.
And then, for the first time in four hundred years, I reach with the ability to succeed.
A tear rips open in front of me, reality itself splitting apart.
My heart pounds.
Either Great Red eats me…
Or I'm free.
No more cages. No more chains.
No more Underworld.
I take a step forward.
And then another.
The elemental nations, the name was etched into my soul, and memories of a certain whiskered fox boy came to mind.
The vast expanse of the ocean stretched before me like a giant mirror.
The left over of the morning fogs, and the accompaniment of the fresh unpoluted air all seemed so foreign now that I laid my eyes upon the scenery.
I laugh wildly like a madman, as I flare all my energy, whether that be mana, demonic energy, or touki like I was a mad man.
It's a new world.
And I can't wait to see what this one has to offer.
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