Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 385: Lightning from a Thought

Huffing on the ground, he shuddered at the noise of Mab’s clapping hands and amused voice.

"Congratulations on passing the first phase of my training!"

Before he could smile in victory, she continued. "You’re now on my level when I was ten years old."

He let his head plop on the ground, holding back from cursing. Then, he drew the little strength he had left to sit and glare at Mab, his voice coming out hoarse. "What’s the next phase? Actual magic, or are we continuing to waste time?"

"Humph. You never cease to amaze me. You can’t even crawl yet want to fly." She waved her hand downward before she smirked. "But yes. We’ll begin our magic lesson. Are you eager? Delighted? Excellent!"

Her words were cheerful, but her tone more sadistic than ever. Instead of feeling relieved, Adam rolled his eyes and bit his lip. Surely, she couldn’t torture him with theories? No! He couldn’t underestimate her!

With a suspicious glare, he rose to his feet and raised his fist with the conviction of a drowning man. "I’m so... excited."

"Yay!" Mab raised her fist. "Now that you have a firm grasp on your energy, all you have to do is to imbue it with your will."

Adam frowned. "Am I not already doing that?"

"Really?" She took the voice of a pub’s drunkard in a mocking impersonation. "Vaporise my enemies, my flames. Did I get it right? Yes? Don’t interrupt me, then. We aim for subtlety—guiding whispers, not a brut’s enraged roars."

She raised her palm, frost condensing into hundreds of glistening shapes. Some turned liquid and flowed like water; others compressed until they shone with the resilience of divine metal. Adam even saw one blaze like a pale fire yet still release an intense cold.

"Ice isn’t the best example." Mab chuckled. "But I’m sure you don’t want to try my authority over death. Oh! I actually have something better."

She blurred in front of him, her pink coated palm passing a centimeter before his face.

Too exhausted to react, his eyes widened, and his voice cracked. "What are you doing?!"

Yet, it was too late. Her spell’s effects were already manifesting. Something tugged at his mind. He focused on resisting, but the pull’s strength increased.

An icy shudder ran down his spine. He was immune to mental manipulations and restraints, so how could darkness encroach on his vision?

Before he could think of an answer, his head sank, and he lost consciousness.

A split second later, he snapped his eyes open with a gasp, but the scenery was much different.

Gone was the intricate room lined with tall columns and golden tapestries. Instead, a vast pinkish sky extended beneath him as far as the eye could see. No, something was wrong. He wasn’t using his wings.

He stomped the pink ground, feeling as if he had stepped on glass before he raised his head and his breath caught in his throat.

Above him, upside-down forests, plains, and rivers filled the sky. A castle appeared the next second before a mage tower replaced it in a heartbeat. Kaleidoscopic lights erupted below, forcing his eyes to snap. Nothing made sense anymore. It was as if he had gone mad.

But madness was no excuse to remain at her mercy.

"What have you done to me, Mab?!" Dark flames burst from his skin, coating his limbs like armor.

As if fueled by his words, the lights entwined in beige, violet, and dark, the radiance diminishing enough for him to raise his eyelids slightly... only for his mouth to drop open at a hulking Mab lying on her belly.

She even cupped her face between her palms, smirking as she swung her legs playfully!

"Next to nothing, really." She vanished in a puff of smoke.

But he shuddered as he felt her hands on his shoulders and her breath on his neck despite his flames. What unsettling sorcery was he witnessing?

"That’s my dream world—a place where magic is the only rule and imagination the only limit."

He snapped his head back but frowned at the Mab-sized plush. The real one was gone already.

"Incomprehensible things—everything I hate. Great. And now you became a ninja out of nowhere. What’s next? Hand signs followed by a huge fireball?"

"Hand signs are the mark of amateurs—tricks no better than sleight of hands." She reappeared before him, pursing her lips. "But this illustrates my earlier explanation. You’ll remain here and learn to imbue you will into your essence."

He clicked his tongue, disgruntled by the training. What was the point of this dream world? The Citadel was much better. At least he could absorb the ambient chaos to strengthen himself. And strength he needed if he wanted to behead Zeus.

Just remembering this bastard and his lightning bolt transformation made him clench his fists until the knuckles turned white.

Meanwhile, Mab dusted her gothic dress, focusing on the shoulders before her eyes lit up as if she had just remembered something. "By the way, did I mention imagination was the only limit? Don’t let it run too wild, then."

"Huh?" Confused by the warning, he gazed at her before his instincts blared in alarm.

Instantly, crackles deafened him, and golden lightning engulfed his vision—just like the memory of Zeus almost killing him.

’THE HECK?!’

Before he could even move, a blinding agony devoured him. The world spun around him in a pink blur. No, it wasn’t spinning...

Dread’s icy fingers wrapped around his heart as he saw his charred body below and Zeus’ lightning vanishing in the distance. His head had been torn and hurled in a wide arc.

Did he die just like that? Because of a mere thought? This was ridiculous, preposterous even!

Darkness already slithered in his vision. But he threw a hate-filled glare at Mab, the meaning behind clear: you won’t get away with it.

And she answered with a shrug. "Make me regret it if you can."

Challenged, he gathered his last strength to imagine the most horrifying person he could think of.

A graceful yet heavy step rocked the pink glass. A dark blue and purple detached sleeve fluttered before a tight top adorned with golden cuneiforms followed.

Mab’s relaxed posture straightened. She trembled, her eyes wide and voice cracking. Those violet eyes, dark hair, and draconic horns... Tiamat.

"You dare?!"

If he could, he would have flipped her a middle finger. Since he couldn’t, he smirked and wished her good luck before the world turned dark. And luck she would need. After all, he had imagined Tiamat at full power.