Rearing Demons-Chapter 30: Oath of Blood; Half-Human

Zul, what exactly is this ritual?

A brief description appeared before him, detailing the Ritual of Blood Binding. Yur scanned it carefully, hoping to understand it before telling her any details.

"So? What does it actually entail?" Arms crossed, Ris looked at Yur with impatience.

He took a few more seconds to finish reading. "In simple terms, if we capture a demon at a higher rank than you, there's a better chance of perfecting your control over demonic essence while reducing its drawbacks."

Her eyebrow rose. Contemplating his words, she looked doubtful. "I need to capture a Kyrrath? That's it?"

Yur nodded. "Yes. If you can capture, not kill, a Kyrrath—or better yet, a Valgath—then I can do the ritual. Your power, your essence control, and your emotional urges would all improve."

"But for that, you need to be at the Seeker of Embers realm?" Though the idea intrigued her, she was unsure how a Seeker of Embers could help someone at the Luminous Heart realm. It sounded contradictory.

Catching the skepticism on her face, Zul loaded better dialogue for Yur to reassure her. "It's a very difficult ritual," he explained. "Normally, I couldn't manage it for someone at your level. But if you assist in the process, it's doable."

"How exactly would I help?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"You'd do almost everything. I'd just set it up and start the process; the rest would be on you. And I can't do it until I reach Seeker of Embers. That's the only way."

"Fine. In that case, I want to do this ritual—and I'll help you advance to the next realm." She agreed surprisingly fast, nodding her head.

"Great. Then you can help me rank up." Yur felt relief at the prospect of having someone assist with his complicated progression. "My method is unique. I need to accomplish it in a certain way."

Ris tilted her head, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What way is that?"

"I need to sacrifice..."—he paused, deciding to push his luck—"...ten rank-five beings."

"Rank five?" She stared at him, bewildered. "Why would a Nascent Orb cultivator need such powerful demons?"

"Technically, rank four is fine," he amended, not wanting to sound too extreme. "But if I want to help you, I need to be as strong as possible."

Her gaze grew sharper. "What kind of demonic cultivation is that? I've never heard of a method requiring large-scale rituals and sacrifices—especially one that makes you this strong."

"It's not actually demonic cultivation." He corrected her. "Rituals help me grow. Back when I escaped slavery, I met a cultivator who told me my body was suited to demonic essence. He loaded my mind with various rituals. Each time I grow stronger, I unlock them." It wasn't a total lie, but not entirely true. The closer to reality, the less he'd have to prove later.

"Who was this demonic cultivator?" she pressed.

"I have no idea," Yur said with a shrug. "Like I told you, I was a slave and managed to become free. Then I met him, and he just gave me this knowledge. I had nothing to lose."

She sniffed. "All right. But he must have given you a name."

Feigning thought, he answered, "I think it was... Zul?"

"Zul? I've never heard of anyone by that name." Her frown suggested disbelief.

"That's all I can say." He shrugged, unruffled by her doubts. "He told me to come to Zulmasharr. The more I sacrifice, the stronger I become."

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Ris stood quietly, conflicted. She, too, practiced a demonic method, but nowhere near as ritual-heavy as Yur's. Her approach only siphoned demonic essence seeping out from Zulmasharr. Relying on elaborate sacrifices like his was unheard of.

Fixing her eyes on him, she realized how mysterious he was. From their first encounter, where he stood against a powerful demon, to now—capable of matching rank-four beings—she couldn't place his origins.

Reaching a conclusion, she let her eyes smolder with excitement. "Then I'll help you. If assisting your rise to Seeker of Embers makes me stronger, I'll do it." She stared intensely, voice unwavering. "I can't promise you ten Gralith, but I can help get you Kyrraths."

"And the catch?" he asked, sensing a condition.

"You must perform an Oath of Blood, vowing the ritual won't harm me before or after." Her tone turned steely, tinged with menace.

Yur raised a brow at the unfamiliar term. Zul, what's an Oath of Blood?

[A vow sworn on one's blood. Breaking it triggers a fatal burn of one's blood!]

He understood enough now. Though reluctant, it was safer this way—guaranteeing her help. He waited until Zul loaded the instructions for performing the vow. Then, looking at Ris, he said, "All right, I'll begin, but you must do it too."Cutting his fingertip with his sword, he declared, "On this droplet of blood, I vow that my words hold true. I vow that if Ris helps me rank up, I will help her without harming her!"

Once the vow was spoken, the droplet of blood sparkled with black and gold light, etched with symbols too cryptic to decipher. He brought it to his tongue, swallowing.

He watched as Ris followed suit, slicing her own finger. "I vow I'll help Yur advance without harming him, training him until he fulfills my part of the deal, with no harm to him." Like his, her blood droplet glowed with the same golden-black script before she ingested it.

With the Oath of Blood sealed, both felt more at ease. Meanwhile, Ris was already contemplating how to kill him afterward. The oath only lasted until their stated vows were fulfilled. Once it's done, I can eliminate him so no one else gains these abilities.

Zul had foreseen this, prompting Yur to phrase his vow carefully. Once the Ritual of Blood Binding was used on her, Ris would never again be able to harm him. Of course, he couldn't control her completely—she was far stronger—but that limitation still served his purpose.

"Now that the Oath of Blood is done," Yur said, "I might as well show you my true strength." Zul urged him to act more reckless, so Ris would become overconfident. By revealing what seemed like all his cards, they'd leave room for an ambush later.

"What else are you hiding?" She sounded almost bored, no longer threatened by him.

"Since you know I'm a demonic cultivator, I can fight like one." With that, he executed a few more transformations on his body.

His Ashkavaal bloodline allowed all forms to be "true" forms, but each came with its own pros and cons. So far, his human appearance was the hardest to figure out. His full demon form gave him enormous destructive potential, but it hindered him from wielding weapons well. Meanwhile, the half demon form was the most versatile, though he hadn't tried a half-human form yet. Every shape gave him certain capabilities and restricted others.

He decided on the half-human form. Unlike the half-demon version—more demonic in nature—the half-human was closer to a human's build. Black wings emerged from his back; his hands and feet remained humanlike, but his fangs extended, eyes turned red, and two horns protruded from his forehead. His hair stayed ink-black.

Holding the sword, he tested its balance in this new shape. Then, with a few flaps of his wings, he soared upward, heading for the next floor.

Ris followed with heightened interest. His transformation was smooth and seemingly painless—even she couldn't manage that so effortlessly. He was full of surprises.

Upon reaching the next level, they spotted an odd being waiting, seated on a large throne. It looked humanoid but also undeniably demonic. Its body was humanlike, but a single eye took up its face, the mouth located within that eye. No nose, no ears, no hair. Each palm had an eye with a mouth for its "pupil."

"That is a Weeping Lord," she explained, voice even. "A pseudo rank-five demon—or what we call a demi-rank five. It's on the verge of evolving, so it's begun showing more humanlike traits."

[Host is advised to be extremely cautious! This being is far more powerful than the last one. Host should not confront it now!]

He knew a direct confrontation wasn't wise. Though he felt a faint thrill from fighting earlier, with no sense of pain, each risky battle might cost his life eventually.

Ris gave him a warning glare. "I don't think you should fight it yet. You need more practice; you're not ready." He was already struggling with rank four demons, so going up against an even stronger foe seemed suicidal.

He didn't look at her directly, but asked, "I can't move forward unless I kill it. So what do we do?"

A light smirk curved her lips, something faintly wicked. "I'll train you personally for the next few days."