Evolution: From Little Devil to Devil Empress

”Bartender—no, I should call you Lord Embers—what’s the point of plotting against us?”, the elderly Devil asked, posing the question in everyone’s minds.

By now, even the stupidest, least intelligent Devils like the Armored Devil had understood that there was something wrong.

”Do you want us to help you fend off this Two-Headed Sir? If so, you should have requested our assistance rather than resorting to such tricks.”

”After all, with the Devil Contract’s binding power, neither of us can do anything to each other.”, the elderly Devil stated, the latter part of his speech being the source of his current confidence.

With the Devil Contract, even if Lord Embers held malicious intentions, he could never harm them.

Unfortunately, things went beyond his expectations.

Lord Embers didn’t become angry when faced with the elderly Devil’s accusations, but calmly reached into his clothes and took out a yellow parchment.

The Devils immediately recognized it—it was the Devil Contract binding them.

Lord Embers carefully held it in his hands, and with a smile, he lightly shook his head.

”I’m afraid that you’re mistaken. What does the Devil Contract you guys signed have to do with me?”, he asked rhetorically.

”The Devil Contract indeed stipulates that participants can not harm each other. But did I ever become a participant? No.”

Before anyone could react to these words, Lord Embers clicked his fingers. The next moment, the weathered parchment shone with a crimson light and, from within it, many drops of blood flew out.

Clasping these drops of blood, the demonic energy of Lord Embers surged even further, while his canine teeth elongated, turning into sharp fangs.

His skin turned pale, as if he had not seen the sun for months, while the flesh on his back squirmed, transforming into a pair of crimson wings.

His appearance was horrifying, but the aura he exuded was neither violent nor brutal, but filled with nobility, like a member of the royal family.

Staring at the blood in his palm, Lord Embers clutched his fist and whispered in a low, almost inaudible voice:

”Blood Curse!”

The next moment, the drops of blood escaped his palm and shot into the air, taking all shapes and forms. Some of them turned into weapons, some into eerie figures, while others turned into tentacled monsters.

No matter what they transformed into, though, the drops of blood soon shot toward their original owner, an eternal curse accompanying them.