Became a Demon with Pregnancy System-Chapter 118: Divine Soul

Panting with exertion, Luke allowed his wolfen form to shrink slightly, the dark energy receding enough for him to move more freely. "Finally," he muttered. "That was...beyond insane." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Tanya approached the Totem Serpent’s side, running her hand along a scale as large as a house door. Her face was alight with relief. "We’ve survived," she whispered, half to herself.

Turning, Luke examined the battered battlefield. Demons that had rushed in from Avalon Lake for the snail’s lure were scattering, the forced frenzy no longer driving them.

The Fort Snail itself had collapsed onto part of the ruined city on its shell, letting out a single pitiful groan.

With its energies drained and no guidance from Apollo, it seemed poised to die as well.

Yet, at that very moment, Hazel’s entire form sagged. A faint gasp escaped her lips. "Luke... I’m... I’m going to pass out," she managed, voice faint.

The strain of merging with the Parthenon Soul—along with the savage headache from the Forgotten Worm’s final throes—had taken a dire toll.

"Hazel!" Luke cried, catching her before she could fall. She was limp, eyes rolling up in her head as the golden aura around her flickered and vanished.

On his other shoulder, Elias Vaughn was already unconscious, injuries from the earlier onslaught still unrepaired.

A wave of sympathy and worry washed over Luke. They look like mirror images, he thought—both out cold, both severely drained.

The newly stabilized Totem Serpent let out one last triumphant hiss, then slithered off to coil in a safer spot. It recognized the threat was gone, at least for now.

The wind and rain had lessened, leaving a lingering hush across the battlefield.

Luke gently brushed damp hair from Hazel’s forehead, a pang of gratitude filling his chest. Without her awakened Parthenon Soul, they would never have toppled the Plague God’s avatar.

We owe her everything, he thought. But before he could express that gratitude, an alien presence tugged at his mind.

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in his consciousness:

"Ding—Hazel Ross has successfully awakened her Divine Soul.

Qualification enhanced.

High aptitude upgraded to an unmatched, peerless posture.

Achieving this conquest yields a special reward..."

The voice trailed off, leaving Luke dazed. He frowned, uncertain how to react to the cryptic pronouncement. But it felt significant, as if some hidden system recognized Hazel’s sudden leap in power.

At least it means she’ll recover fully... he told himself, scanning her face. Her breathing, though shallow, was stable, and the lines of pain had eased.

Luke let out a soft sigh. Everything had escalated from a supposedly routine field exercise to tangling with a cardinal who had tried to unleash a plague god.

Now they stood on the cusp of a new dawn—where old conspiracies had been challenged and a formidable threat was snuffed out.

"I guess it’s finally over," Luke said quietly, glancing at the dissolving snail in the distance, its remains sinking back onto the battered earth. "We should get out of here before more trouble shows up."

Tanya nodded, exhaustion dulling the tension in her shoulders. "Agreed. Let’s—let’s do that."

Thus, with Elias Vaughn draped over one arm and Hazel Ross nestled safely against his shoulder, Luke prepared to leave this gruesome battlefield behind.

The Totem Serpent hissed low in acknowledgment, curling protectively around them like a silent guardian. For now, at least, the storm had passed—and they lived to see another day.

A sharp breeze drifted across the lake’s surface, ruffling the remnants of mist that still hung over the shattered shell once belonging to the fortress snail.

Night receded into dawn’s tentative gray light, illuminating the aftermath of the fierce confrontation.

Although the colossal snail had long since dissolved into nothingness, the faint echo of its roar seemed to linger over the expanse of Avalon Lake.

Luke stood in a secluded glade not far from the lake’s shoreline.

He had reverted to human form, though a faint haze of violet poison still danced around him—a sign of the changes wrought by absorbing Sierra Ling’s poison-power.

Across each of his broad shoulders dozed two injured companions, their post-battle exhaustion overwhelming any sense of propriety.

On his right was Elias Vaughn, clothes torn and stained with dried blood. Elias’s face showed pale even in the dim morning light, and Luke could feel the shallow rise and fall of his breathing as he slumbered.

Over on his left, Hazel Ross rested in a similarly ragged state, her once-elegant attire marred by singed edges and splatters of mud.

Even so, her gentle features remained serene in sleep, strands of damp hair framing her face.

Peering down at them, Luke heaved a sigh. Just moments ago—at least, it felt that way—both Hazel and Elias had risked everything to help quell the threat posed by Apollo. Their battered forms now told the story of that struggle better than any words could. Part of Luke felt relief that they were both alive. Another part, however, simmered with a different tension altogether.

"Peerless posture...special reward..." he muttered under his breath, recalling the enigmatic voice that had resonated in his mind.

According to that strange proclamation, Hazel’s successful awakening of the Parthenon Soul had somehow enhanced her aptitudes to a ’peerless’ level, thus granting Luke an unspecified boon.

He glanced at Hazel’s sleeping face, feeling both proud of her remarkable transformation and oddly amused by the system’s cryptic phrasing.

As the wind shifted, Luke’s gaze drifted to her torn clothing.

Slices in the fabric revealed glimpses of smooth, pale skin. A particularly large tear up her left thigh caught his eye; beneath it lay a slender calf that bore a faint trace of muscle tone.

So she wasn’t idle even though she had that leg condition, he thought, remembering that Hazel had once described her old disability. "All that therapy and magic practice...she’s stronger than she looks."

Next, his eyes flicked to Elias. The wind had pulled aside part of Elias’s shirt, exposing bruises along his ribs. Luke frowned; he’d need to find some way to treat those injuries as soon as possible.