Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 336: Ember of Understanding: Ifrit’s True Evolution

During the short return trip, Ifrit recounted his seven-year adventure and how he had defeated armies and razed territories. But the carnage had a deeper goal.

Without surprise, many lusted over the volcano’s abundant fire energy, but none had ever benefited from it. How could they when someone already owned the place?

According to Ifrit, an ancient fire giant, slightly weaker than Hrimgar but no less threatening, had claimed the place. Though visitors didn’t garner any reaction, the moment he had tried to absorb the energy, the giant had emerged in a sea of molten magma.

Beaten half-dead, forced to flee, and his illusions of power shattered, Ifrit returned to the most basic and barbaric method of improvement: slaughter.

Just like that, he had drowned Muspelheim in his own flames, the fallen eldjötnars and beasts fueling his rise until he finally evolved into a djinn sultan.

But he knew it wasn’t enough. The giant’s mastery far surpassed his. Therefore, he sought old entities to refine his powers through duels.

Death’s sweet embrace almost claimed his soul a few times, and he fled in disgrace many more. But just like Adam, he never gave up. Slowly, defeats turned into resounding victories. And two years later, his once battered body gained immunity to flames, his confidence soared, and his voice thundered in a defiant challenge for the volcano’s ownership.

The entire region rumbled, the obsidian ground cracked into morsels, and the sky cried rains of molten fires.

He had endured devastating punishment but returned it with twice the rage and an unwavering resolve.

Stronger—he had to become stronger. Not for Adam or the territory, but for himself—because he had never accepted his lowly origins. Even more humiliating, Garduck and Bart’s stories about the demon realm made it clear: he had been lucky to be born from the demon den. After all, betrayals and suffering were the only constant for inferior demons.

Luck? An inferior djinn? Who had decided that? He was Ifrit, the fire of judgement that would swallow the gods; the final spark that would outlive even Surtr to tower above all and stand shoulder-by-shoulder with Adam.

Of course, he didn’t share this and only grinned proudly as he recounted how he defeated the giant by smashing its head against the volcano’s walls until it exploded into fireworks.

"After killing it, I evolved into this glorious appearance, the fire djinns’ pinnacle: an Ifrit." He winked at Adam, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. "You trusted me with that name, my lord. Of course, I couldn’t disappoint you."

Adam patted his fiery shoulder and raised his thumb, deeply moved to see one of his subjects reach the ultimate stage of his evolution. "You didn’t slack during my absence, either. I guess you’re the most powerful among the generals now."

Surprisingly, Ifrit shook his head and glanced at Garduck, the eternal weakest. "Perhaps I am, but does it matter?" He shrugged. "We’re bound by trust, not fear or meaningless competition. I only want to be stronger than our enemies."

Adam raised a brow while Garduck closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then, a bright smile curved his lips as he nodded. "Those are the wisest words you’ve ever spoken, Ifrit. Power didn’t corrupt you. Honestly, I’m as surprised as I’m proud."

Guilt flashed in Ifrit’s eyes as he mumbled under his breath. "I won’t lie. I was drunk on my own strength for a few years. You won’t understand how eager I was to show my progress to our lord and resume our conquests, but... months passed, then years. My excitement flickered like a candle blown by Zephyr in person as my hope faded."

He lowered his face and sighed. "Once I thought you died, I spent my solitary time pondering. What was important? Why did I follow you for so long? I subconsciously knew the answer but couldn’t put it into words."

Adam observed Ifrit, stunned by the djinn’s deep considerations and eager to learn the answer. "Can you now?"

A rare soft smile curved Ifrit’s lips. "More important than peace or fulfillment, the real thing you gave us is freedom."

He raised his face, his ember eyes blazing. "Think about it, my lord. The peace you spoke about could have been imposed through fear, martial laws, or manipulation. I can imagine dozens of other methods, each more terrifying than the last. But you didn’t use them. Instead, you offered us choices, and each decision we made was our own. That’s freedom—that’s true peace."

Garduck shuddered, a deep furrow creasing his brows. Even he hadn’t considered things this deeply. But Ifrit’s insight resonated with him. "A peace built from our earnest desires rather than fabricated."

Meanwhile, Adam remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then, he clasped his hands behind his back like an ancient martial master and turned, his gaze fixed on the horizon and the burning wind whipping his hair. "You finally understood my intentions. Good job."

But behind the facade, his mind roiled in confusion.

’What?! I just didn’t want to look behind my shoulder every two seconds, horrified to see a dagger about to pierce my back. I didn’t impose anything? Of course, I didn’t. I was the weakest...’ His eyes softened. ’But this same weakness and incertitude led us to this development. I don’t regret being reincarnated as an imp. The situation forced me to give them choices, and I like the ones they made.’

He turned, smiling before Ifrit shifted the subject by asking about his long exile. He recounted his abyssal journey, causing them to draw horrified breaths, clench their fists, or narrow their eyes in anger until Achilles guided the chariot into Behemoth’s territory.

Upon seeing Ifrit’s reduced size yet threatening aura, Behemoth almost got a heart attack. Though he had believed Adam, a part of him still doubted that such a powerful being was under him. But before his shock faded into curiosity, Adam prompted him to use his Gate.

With a conflicted nod, he guided the four men and watched as Ifrit, Muspelheim’s scourge no one dared to disrupt, left with a bright smile.

"I have an idea of what Maven has been up to. Don’t worry, my lord, I’ll bring him back."

Adam waved his hand, knowing he could count on Ifrit. "Enjoy the journey and take care of the big guy and his children."

As the raging flames swirling in the Gate’s frame receded, he smirked at Achilles, who still didn’t know where they’d go next. "I guess it’s only the three of us now, huh? Are you ready to seize a glory so dazzling that no hero will ever match it?"

Achilles gestured with his arms, his lips pursed in eager defiance. "Bring it on. Even if we journey to the darkest depth of the earth, I’ll obliterate any threats on our path."

"Hahaha. Sure. Let’s go to Tartarus, then."

"..." Achilles’ excitement vanished in a puff of smoke as his face paled. "What?!"