webnovel

Demon King's Rebirth: Kaeru Chikara

The pursuit of power is a path filled with bloodshed. It is a path teeming with suffering and misery. A path that most wouldn't walk, yet he continues. He moves forward with a relentless spirit forged in the hells of deep despair; nothing having the ability to stop him. He will continue moving forward. Whether it be his old world or his new one, he will not change. Whether it be in the face of an all-encompassing power or the sneaky schemes of an old sly fox, his incomparable wit will push him forward. Whether it be murder or seduction, no means are beneath him. This is how the Demon King lived. This is how the Demon King lives. And this is how the Demon King would continue to live. This is how the Demon King would become a God. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear reader, The first part of this book (Chapter 1 - 26) is dedicated to establishing the main character of this book, so it will be a bit slow at first. But once things get going, they get going! So I recommend you give this book some time to cook before deciding it to not be worth your time. Best regards, Author of this impoverished book. --------------------------------------------------------------------- This book has been dropped. There is a good amount of content to read, so if you don't care and want to read it, go ahead, I can't stop you. This is just a warning that nothing new is coming out from this book.

MrChill · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
125 Chs

A Difficult Apology

I was sitting up in the bed that I found myself in upon waking a while ago. I was in a medical ward, and judging by the similarities, I was sure that it was the same one that I took over this body inside of. I've already examined my body, and as I thought, I wasn't healed in the least. Bandages were covering my body, making me seem like a mummy. And because I had bandages on, I knew that I wasn't going to be healed by using Fruits; I'd have to rely on the natural process of healing. And that also meant I would have to hop on one leg to get around until I figured out a way to get my leg back.

Of course, I would probably be fine in combat because of that new feature I discovered. Creating a leg out of Magic Arts or Martial Arts wasn't a new thing and happened in combat quite often when someone lost a limb mid-battle. But that kind of ability was usually reserved for Cultivators in the Iron Class. What that told me was with all my Magic Circles activated, my Genesis Liquid reached the level of Iron Class. This was good and bad at the same time. The good part was that I could be very powerful when needed, the bad part was that using Genesis Liquid of the Iron Class isn't exactly the best for the body.

During the process of ascending in the Technology Path, your body has a metamorphosis which is what allows it to handle the use of more powerful Genesis Liquid. If a Dirt Class Cultivator were to use Genesis Liquid of the Iron Class... it's safe to say not a speck of their body would be remaining. The only reason that I could do this without dying immediately was that the magic circles acted as a limiter. I considered it something similar to a sink. The vat that held all of the water was the power of Iron Class Genesis Liquid, the pipes were the pathways within my body that the Liquid traveled through, the Genesis Orbs were the nobs, and the spout was the magic circle. I turned the nobs too much which caused a water flow that the other parts of the sink couldn't handle. Long story short, I would have to wait a couple of days until I could use the magic circles again.

That all was interpreted from the book I was reading. Medisma made good on her end, and the book she was talking about with details of the ritual was next to me when I woke up, so I spent all of my time since waking up reading that book trying to understand how it all worked. Although I wasn't able to really understand everything due to my lack of proficiency in the Firearm Branch, I was able to understand some of it. Namely, the capabilities of the magic circles on my body, and what they really did.

The magic circles, using Firearm Genesis Essence as a power source, essentially transform the Genesis Liquid I'm about to use in a certain area into a higher class depending on how much Genesis Essence I use. I'm pretty sure that Medisma may have not understood that part completely, thinking that it used Genesis Essence found within the atmosphere, otherwise, she would have questioned my ability to activate the magic circles a while ago. The magic circles also had the ability to strengthen my insides temporarily to make sure that I didn't destroy myself by using a higher-class Genesis Liquid. Unfortunately, due to my still low class, Iron Class was just too high for the magic circle's abilities.

That was most of what I was able to comprehend as of now, the rest of the text was out of my knowledge of the Firearm Branch. The only reason I was even able to understand that much was because of my previous experience with magic circles, which was why I was pretty sure Medisma was unable to really comprehend the text of this book.

Speaking of Medisma, I had a lot to say to her. There were so many questions I had, but I was able to narrow it down to four key ones. One: Why the hell did she lie to me about Paxium's capabilities? Two: When am I going to start teaching those misfits, and where? Three: Once I finish my end of the deal, are you going to be done with me? And four: How do I start my ascension to Stone Class?

That last one was very important. I had no clue how to do that as it was hidden within the confines of each Grand Elder's personal brain. The idea was simple, if you want to ever ascend to a higher class, you need to join one of our sects. That way they could also have intel on who was in what class. It was basic but effective, and I had no choice but to go along with it. That ascension was very important to my growth of strength. While the magic circles were helpful in upgrading my Genesis Liquid, that wasn't the only part of one's strength.

Dirt Class was essentially the tutorial on how cultivation worked, the first step on the path of cultivation. Stone class on the other hand was when things got serious. Once in Stone Class, you would lock in the path you wished to take in more ways than one. Ascending into Stone Class made considerable changes to your Duranian and, depending on whether you took the Magic Path or Technology Path, your body or soul and mind. It was that change that made true Martial Arts and Magic Arts possible, and also what decided what your Duranian would look like in the future. Right now, my use of Genesis Liquid was rudimentary at best so being able to use and understand a real Martial Art of this world would make me much stronger than before. That was why Stone Class was very important for your future fighting style. Depending on both the Martial Art or Magic Art you chose and the path your Duranian moved in was what made each person's cultivation journey so diverse. And I really needed some diversity as I'm sure my current fighting style will eventually be destroyed by someone with real power, both mentally and physically.

As I was thinking about my future path of cultivation, the door to my room was knocked a couple of times accompanied by a familiar voice, "Uhm, Q- I mean, Igmor, can I come in?" Well, this was interesting, it was Beulus. And by how he was talking, he must have seen through Medisma's façade.

"Come in."

With my confirmation, the door creaked open, and an unconfident Beulus walked into the room. By the look of his face, he was having difficulty with just standing in the same room as me. I suppose it made sense, the last time we talked to each other didn't exactly end on friendly terms. Yet he still approached me. This smelt of opportunity, but to fully exploit this feeling, I needed to know why he was here. Although he didn't seem inclined to talk, so I talked for him.

"Beulus, you can just call me Quis in here, it's not like I have anything to hide from you. So, with that out of the way, tell me, why are you here?" I said this with both humility and assertiveness at the same time. I had just proven my strength, so it was important I also proved my charisma if I ever wanted to continue my plans of taking over the sect.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and opened his mouth planning to spill his jarred emotions, "I... I wanted to say... I want to say..." But he seemed unable to finish his sentence. Emotions flashed through his eyes: pride, sorrow, confidence, insecurity, anger, embarrassment, anxiety, and more. But in the end, he took a vast sigh, and with eyes of determination, said to me, "I'm sorry Quis. I'm sorry for my inability to empathize or comfort you when you might have needed it. I'm sorry for running away from confronting you about this for months. I'm sorry that I was filled with self-righteousness, unable to assume things outside of my own self. I'm... I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you, as both a friend and a companion. I'm sorry."

As he spouted those words, a heavy load seemed to lift off his shoulders, and with a final bow to me, all of his baggage seemed to fly right off him, leaving him as light as the wind. It was truly a beautiful sight, to see someone walk through a past event and feel like they could do anything. This was an apology, not for my sake, but for his sake.

There were two ways an apology could end. Either the person accepts the apology and you both move on or the person declines the apology keeping you from moving on. There are different variations depending on how you accept or decline an apology and the mentality of the parties involved, but the results are always derived from those two options. Compliance or Rejection.

Beulus looked up at me with a smile on his face, being rid of his heavy heart. But as he saw my expression, his face dampened enough for a pen to slide right through. His eyes mixed with many emotions once again, but ending up fixated on one question: What did I do wrong? He gulped a nervous gulp as his eyes stayed locked on mine, sweat dripped down his chin, and his mental stability was deteriorating. His eyes turned more and more emotionful as seconds passed with no words being said. Being sick of the silence, he opened his mouth planning to say his words, but I struck first.

"I can't accept your apology." My face was the same as it was when he looked up. Eyes devoid of any amusement, eyes brows slightly lifted where it neared my nose, lips as straight as could be, and my head tilted at a small angle. The expression of apathy.

As I said my cold words with no remorse to his mental state, all of the emotion once present in his countenance popped out of existence. Instead, he was left with the only emotion that lacked emotion: emotionless. This was the result of the path I chose for this apology. The path of rejection.

He stood still while whatever expectations he had going into this disappeared, instead being replaced with cruel reality. His mind seemed frozen in a state of ramification as thoughts passed through his head at the speed of light. But, suddenly, his eyes shone with a ray of hope. I'm not sure what memory he was visiting that made him change his perspective, but it worked as he gained the ability to show expression and move.

He tilted his head back at me, eyes shining with valor, and declared, "Quis... Maybe what I did to you was too much for you to accept my apology... and that's alright. I know that undoing the things that you've done wrong takes time. It takes more than just words can express. So, I ask you, what will it take for you to understand that I'm in your corner? What do I have to do for you to accept my apology? How can I help you?"

Perfect. Sometimes accepting an apology is the right thing to do. It can progress relationships and deepen the bonds between two people. But there are also times when declining an apology can help you more than accepting it. For example; Beulus worked up the courage to say sorry to me. He came into this with the expectation that as long as he talked it out, everything would be solved. But I destroyed that expectation, not with passion like he might have prepared for, but with indifference. This made him question himself. Probably thinking things like, "Was what I did so wrong?" or "I just wanted to say sorry so why is he being a dick about it?"

While a couple of months ago, he might have acted on his thoughts and escalated his voice, letting his pride take him over. But, as soon as he walked into this room, I could tell he was different. He wasn't in this echo chamber of ego boosting, where everything he did had to be right and if anyone didn't accept it, they were in the wrong. I was the one who cracked that shell of his, making him question himself, and, sometime within the past couple of months, someone else must've broken that shell completely. This resulted in a man who didn't always assume his way was the correct way. That was the only reason why my rejection pushed him to take a further step instead of backing down.

I took a second to think about what he said like it threw me off guard. But after a couple of seconds of faked inner turmoil, I gave him a crooked smirk and carefully replied, "If you really want to, go ahead. But I will warn you, I'm not someone who will ask you only to do nice things."

He took a step forward and took a look at my leg that was blown off, the many bandages that covered my body, and finally rested on my eyes, "I watched your battles Quis. I know you aren't someone who plays nice. But I also know that not everything in this world can be achieved by being kind. Some things require shady acts, I understand this. I trust that I know you well enough to know that, while your means may be not in my moral code, the ends you look for will benefit those you hold dear. It's with that common ground between us that I will temporarily allow myself to do devious things. As long as I can prove to you my conviction, I will do it!"

I gave him a nod of approval, and said with a heavy voice, "Then show me your conviction. Wait for me to come back to campus. If I'm correct, then I'll be there soon. So take that time to truly decide if you have the guts to enact my will."

Beulus gave me a nod back, and without speaking any words, left the room.

I stared at the door for a moment before refocusing my attention on the book in my hand. I gave a small chuckle under my breath, fascinated by the wonder of progress.

'I've officially done it. The first person to talk to me in this new world. The first person to reach his hand out to me and become my "friend". The first person to start an argument of ideals with me. And now... the first person to become my pawn.'

Alright, things are cooling down a little, action-wise that is. Things going to be going crazy for a bit, because you know, we're starting to reach the climax of the Part (Still a way out, but we're getting closer). Also, the 2nd half of this chapter would have been one I would have done in Beulus' POV before. Is it better like this?

PS: Powerstones and/or reveiws is a better version of 5-hour energy for authors. If you wanna keep me going through the sleep deprivation, that would be a great way to do it!

Thank you.

MrChillcreators' thoughts