05. Growing Pains

I stared at the twitching body of the Cerberus tiredly. It had taken my all to fight one of the strongest beings of the Underworld.

The three heads were vicious and there was never any blind spot with this creature. I raised my spear and struck the heart of the Cerberus as it whined pitifully before taking its last breath.

My heart was pounding in my chest as my blood and sweat soaked clothes stuck to my body ripped in several places.

My armour never stood a chance surviving the Cerberus and I almost depleted my reserves fighting the three headed dog.

I leaned over my spear with a tired sigh as my knees gave out and I sat down tiredly. It had been hours since I engaged the fearsome creature and it took me surviving making several mistakes to finally slay it.

"Very well done, young master." Damian appeared behind me with a smile as he handed out a towel to me.

I took the towel and wiped my face. "Ah! Warm towel. Thank you, Damian."

The butler nodded as I used alchemy to transmute my wounds away and used the residual demonic energy of the Cerberus to heal me and make me stronger.

It was based on a ritual I saw in Stolas Grimoire. The Law of Equivalent Exchange allows me to exchange anything as long as it has conceptually equal value.

My injuries and my weakness was traded with the body and remains of my enemies. Every creature I slay, every enemy I defeat will make me stronger. Every fight grants me strength that I use to fight stronger enemies.

This was like a positive feedback loop. And I can already feel my strength rising as I defeated the Cerberus.

My wounds stitched themselves magically as they healed with the dissipating life essence of the three headed dog. My body was filled with excess demonic energy that filled my reserves as the corpse of the Cerberus shrivelled and disappeared into nothingness.

Its sinew, its flesh, its bones and its very soul served me as nourishment. All that it had, I took it away. To the victor goes the spoils.

And as long as I keep fighting, I shall always be the epitome of conquest.

I looked at the surroundings as it was all a giant crater now. "Let's head back home, Damian."

The butler nodded. "Yes, young master. Right away."

21st December 1999

It had been years since I arrived in this world. I stood on top of Mount Sinai as I witnessed the Winter Solstice.

I turned twenty five this year and my magic had slowly saturated into its peak.

My features had always remained otherworldly, and I had used it to my advantage.

The world will witness a new millennium, and as I absorbed the sun's rays on my skin, I smiled. It has been good living this life here.

I didn't bother finding good Peerage members. Peerage was a handicap. I didn't need servants. I needed allies. This world was already dangerous as it is, I wouldn't want to have reincarnated devils serving as my harem.

The world had grown into what it was in my old world, and I kept my house strong and our coffers full. Investments made strategically to bolster our influence over the mundane world, while my alchemy gave me an in with one of the oldest demons Mephisto Pheles and his human mage organisation Grauzauberer.

Devil Politics knows me as a quiet adventurer, but only my household truly knows how strong I am.

After all, not everyone has the strength of an Ultimate Class purely with a third of their demonic energy, do they?

And there was a reason I was here.

I hated Rizevim Lucifer and what he represented. I didn't need Trihexa to be released, nor did I need devils borne to Lilith who has been secured by her son Rizevim unbeknownst to anybody.

I also don't need Hades to command Evil Dragons or birth strong Super Devils. Which means, my nexus point in this world is Rizevim.

I spent the last decade training in secret, gathering strength to bolster my personal prowess, all in the hopes of facing strong enemies in the future.

This world had dragons, but dragons can be countered with Anti-Dragon magic or dragon slaying weapons.

I needed to grow stronger, and there was only one way.

I looked on as hundreds of humans killed each other while fighting in conflict over something so inane. There were humans of all faith here, and as they killed one another, I stood at the peak of the holy mountain and closed my eyes. My body pulled on all the dying souls to me as their faith and their magic and their souls was absorbed into me.

This was another secret. I would stand witness over all the mortal battlefields I knew about. I would watch all the fights and whenever it was possible, I would eat the souls of the dead and prepare for the day when I was caught.

My Ultimate Class strength and my superior senses allowed me to sense who or what was near me. As soon as Angels came to investigate or agents of other supernatural factions arrived, I would hide or I would flee.

I would shapeshift and scurry away as a serpent or hide in the shadows until the agents leave.

Heavy exposure to holy magic had mutated my demonic energy. It was much more sinister and darker than most devils.

Stolas told me my energy felt like a corrupting source of sin from whence he was born. He called it the Qllipoth, the basin of all the sins and sorrows of the world.

I still remember his words. "What have you been doing, boy? Your magic is no longer that of your kin. Your magic has gained a visage of Mashchith. Your violence feels like Esh, your emotions resemble Af, your life essence like Tehom, and your physical presence is akin to Bohu. You embody at least five of the unholy pillars of Qllipoth, the source of our kind. Be careful, boy. This may grant you power, but you have stepped into a realm that was best left untouched and unattainable."

I looked into those words. Jewish Kabbalah spoke of the Holy features of Ein Sof, the God Almighty represented by the Sephiroth. The counterpart of Sephiroth was the Qllipoth. The darkness that was in part irredeemable called hatmē'ot and moderate one, the nogah.

And I realised, as my powers grew, so did my propensity for sin, violence and destruction. But I directed these feelings on those who deserved it.

As the terrorists killed each other in violent upheaval, I destroyed the source of violence itself. Their damned souls shall serve as my fuel as I condemned their souls to burn for eternity inside me.

With a sigh, I took a step forward as the world shifted around me. Dimensional travel was very easy as I could walk in the valley of shadows. I feared no evil, for there was none more evil than I. It was my own creation, a magic that folds space and lets me travel where I want and when I want.

I arrived on the other side of the world as I looked at the being chained to the wall.

The chains were glowing with divine magic and the Being trashed against it, as I came closer.

"I will kill you, you damned devil. I will skin you alive as I rape and kill everyone you love in this world. I will destroy everything you love! You hear me! Answer me, devil!"

The last part was said with all the strength the being could muster as I chuckled and began placing tools on the table nearby.

Finding chains that bind strong beings wasn't difficult. It was finding chains that can bind a god. Avestan and Zoroastrians know this being as Angra Mainyu or Ahriman, the evilest god in their mythology.

Most mythologies have agents of goodwill and benevolence, and agents of malevolence. It is often a story of good triumphing over evil.

The Evil entity in Zoroastrianism was said to birth all evil in this world and cause all sins to propagate through his existence.

DxD identified this God as one of the evil gods in alliance with Hades.

As such, it took quite a lot of planning and resourcefulness to gather the equipment and the ingredients, but at last, I am ready.

"It is time." I whispered to the chained god who froze midway through his curses.

Ever since I bound this God here, I haven't spoken to him, ensuring his powers were bound and he was imprisoned here. But I had to be sure. Very few gods are this easily tricked, and very few are this easy to bind.

Rituals had to be combined with alchemy principles to conceptually bind the god and starve him of his divine might.

With that done, I sought out the ingredients I would need for this ritual.

I began to draw on the floor with bone white chalk made of powdered bones of Angra Mainyu's believers. I didn't mind killing evil cult members, and most of them were death cultists anyway.

There had to be several concentric circles with correct Avestan and Aramaic sigils. I surrounded the ritual circle with an outer layer of the Enochian scripts as the holy energy permeated in the air causing the god to howl in pain and intense agony.

It took me quite a long time as I set the ritual perfectly as I opened the enchanted urn and set it on the stand tipping it slightly.

Deep red blood began to drip from it, as it flowed into the grooves made on the floor as the evil god watched with fear.

"What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"

I didn't care to respond as the god thrashed in his chains.

"Answer me, you bastard. You little son of a cum dumpster. Answer me! What do you want from me?"

The sounds of the god's struggles were music to my ears as I remembered what this evil god ended up doing in the cannon.

The blood of the virgins filled the groove as I began to shed my clothes.

"Are you planning on bending over? Come closer, and I will fuck with thorny bush. I bet your mother would like that too. If she isn't dead already servicing all the cocks she could find!"

All my anger at his words were mellowed knowing what I planned to do to him. I didn't want to give in to impulses. Devil is in the detail. I am going to make him pay. I just don't need to respond to his goading.

I put the ingredients in the circle as I stood at one end. My chanting hadn't stopped as magic began to permeate in the air. Howling winds gathered as they cut the evil god multiple times.

The god screamed in pain and thrashed in his binding, as his body was littered with deep wounds and golden Ichor began to flow down his body.

His divine magic was squeezed through his wounds as it congealed into the circle before flowing into me.

My words began to rise in pitch as the rhythmic chanting caused a storm to grow over us. Clouds rumbled in malevolence as black thunder struck the ground. Trees outside were uprooted as winds began to pick up pace.

The magic was so dense in the air that when I picked up the obsidian knife, the god was on his knees looking up weakly tired but undefeated, defiant to his very end.

I looked into his eyes as he pursed his mouth and spit in my face. His spittle had Ichor in it as it smeared my face.

I didn't bother wiping it away as I looked at the god.

"Today shall be the end. End of your time. End of your tyranny, end of your eternity. Today I shall take what you have and what you could have. All that is yours is mine and mine alone. You shall serve me with your death Ahriman. You shall serve me with your unwilling sacrifice. Here, by my hand, you shall meet your end. And today you shall die as I shall live. Die. Die. Die."

With those final words, I stabbed the god in his chest and I pulled the dagger out as fresh warm life blood sprayed on my face. I didn't care.

I stabbed him again. And again. And again. And again.

My fingers had gone numb, and my brain had stopped working some time ago.

When I looked up with a semblance of clarity, I was drenched in golden Ichor as the lifeless corpse of the evil god stared back at me.

Death was just the beginning. Death serves a purpose. Angra Mainyu died. No. He was slayed. By me. I took his life.

When I felt the overwhelming power growing in my chest, I smirked. Things were looking up.

When I felt the overwhelming power growing in my chest, I smirked. Things were looking up.