Rearing Demons-Chapter 35: The Devouring Gate; The Chained Moon

[Warning!]

[Host is absorbing raw demonic essence!]

Yur jolted out of his stupor at Zul's urgent warning, noticing that his body was starting to fail.

He looked down to find himself half-transformed. His skin had paled almost white; his hair had gone silvery. His Orb protruded halfway from his chest, black tattoos swirling around his arms, and his eyes were a dark, menacing red.

[Host must be in full demon or half demon form to absorb raw demonic essence! Human form will be forced to transform!]

Reading this, he understood the reason for his current condition.

"What on earth is that?!" a startled voice demanded.

Raising his head, he found Ris staring at him in shock.

Standing up, he stretched his limbs with a nonchalant shrug. "Seems it happened because I absorbed raw demonic essence."

"Raw? You...didn't refine it?" Her eyes widened. "How are you alive?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Raw essence, whether demonic or Aflorian, is basically impossible to absorb without refinement." She was so unnerved, she momentarily forgot her aloofness. "Even a tiny wisp of it can do lethal damage to any living being. Taking in more than that guarantees death!"

[The Severed Ashkavaal Bloodline is disconnected from all regular species, thus capable of absorbing raw—Origin—essence!]

Though brief, this was explanation enough: he was different, able to handle "origin essence." It also shed light on his abnormal strength and on how he'd withstood raw essence that others could never survive.

"I'm not too sure why," he lied casually. "But the raw essence forced me into this weird form. I guess my body can handle it."

Ris scowled, pointing at his chest, where the Orb still jutted out. "Any transformation caused by raw essence is bound to be dangerous. You might end up deformed eventually. That—" she gestured at the half-exposed Orb "—is the proof."

"It doesn't feel off," Yur replied quietly. "Anyway, how do we go about refining essence? I don't want to rely on raw essence all the time."

"Step one is learning to sense that essence without absorbing it. You're already past that. Next is setting up a filter that channels it into your Orb in a safer state."

Lifting her hand, she caused wisps of visible energy to swirl. "You do something like this—and guide it into your Orb."

Encouraged by the demonstration, Yur sat down again, determined. "Understood."

"Make this funnel inside your Cyralim," she advised. "That's best. People often fail on the first try, but given your capabilities, I doubt you'll have trouble."

Closing his eyes, Yur re-entered his Cyralim—now drastically changed. The sky was a stark white, while the ground retained its ashen hue. Animals of ash and flame roamed about, pillars of chain rose everywhere, and high above hung a single moon, eerily encircled by chains and black flames.

"Why's it so different now?" he wondered aloud.

[Host is now Severed in both bloodline and orb!]

"I keep seeing the word 'Severed' on my profile," he muttered. "What does it mean, exactly?"

[The Ritual of the Successor severed the Host from all constraints and creatures. He is a unique being, unbound by the usual rules of existence!]

"'Unbound by the rules'? Then what does that imply?"

[The Host holds potential to pursue ####]

[To know more, consult Mal's memories of ####]

Zul's interface flickered, glitching as it tried to reveal something beyond its reach. Yur realized that if he wanted deeper answers, he'd have to face more of Mal's memories—memories he dreaded revisiting, especially if they contained the likes of Arnin. A primal fear clutched at him whenever he thought of that being.

Pushing aside the worry, Yur glanced around his Cyralim. For all its changes, it was still comfortable—an "ideal realm" shaped by his own essence.

He began roaming, searching for the best spot to set up the funnel. He'd gleaned from Zul's instructions that a high vantage might work best.

Help me think of ideas, Zul, he thought, commanding the system.

[Processing...]

[Complete!]

[Loading Instructions!]

A step-by-step layout formed in Yur's mind based on Ris's technique and Zul's data. Since he was "Severed," he could incorporate origin essence if he liked; a huge advantage. Eager to keep it, he decided to follow the plan Zul had devised.

"So, step one is to create a Devouring Gate," he mused, reading the details. The Devouring Gate required a specific ritual known as The Severance of Chains—the system called it.

Wait, I thought Zul couldn't just give me rituals? He recalled Zul's earlier disclaimers.

[I can provide rituals that impact you and you alone, which is the case here. That's consistent with what I said before!]

Right, he nodded inwardly. Still, I want to figure out how to make my own eventually. Ritual after ritual might be locked behind points or special conditions, and that inconvenienced him.

[Host can learn about rituals using: Ritual Basics!]

A panel opened from both the Zulmasharr and Afloria shops, presenting thousands of books on ritual theory. Each was prohibitively expensive—tens of thousands of Demon Points or hundreds of thousands of Human Points.

This is impossible right now. he concluded. The points from quests or kills wouldn't suffice.

I'll rely on Ritual Fruits and Zul for the time being. Another reason he wanted to kill the Gralith, Mother of Pus was so he could annex the Eyes of Dripping Blood region, letting him expand his "protected domain" and travel instantly anywhere within it. That advantage was irresistible.

Returning focus to the instructions, Yur realized the moon in his Cyralim wasn't just a random aesthetic—it was crucial to forming the Devouring Gate. Indeed, the text indicated the moon was effectively the Gate's anchor.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

That moon was different from anything he'd seen. It was massive, ringed by chains, with flickers of flame corroding them from within. It felt strangely personal, as though it reflected his own struggle.

He flapped his wings, ascending toward it, yet found it elusive—like chasing clouds. The closer he flew, the further it seemed. Eventually, he stopped in midair, gazing up at the bound orb that flickered and sparked.

"I'll draw the Ritual Circle here, in the air..." he muttered, scowling at the imprisoned moon. Letting out a breath, he slashed his physical arm in the real world.

"What are you doing?!" Ris exclaimed outside, seeing him sever a chunk of his flesh. But he ignored her, redirecting the blood into his Cyralim.

Within his inner realm, red rain pattered down as he concentrated, shaping a new circle. This circle was far more intricate than any before—closer to a massive rune than a mere ritual pattern.

As the swirling blood formed a giant, spiraling eye in the sky, the moon's chains began to rattle. Flames around the moon blazed, and the orb quivered violently. Suddenly, several of those chains whipped down, trying to bind the forming eye as if to stop it.

But Yur refused to let his "moon" remain caged. He'd obtained freedom in reality; so should the moon. The chains rattled wildly, the entire Cyralim flickering from bright to dark. Flames along the moon roared, scorching the lengths of chain that threatened the spiraling eye.

In the real world, his body flickered between all his forms: full demon, full human, half demon, half human—his orifices bleeding from the stress.

"What's happening?!" Ris cried, horrified to see not only Yur but also the floor near him disintegrating.

Inside the Cyralim, though chaos reigned, Yur stood steadfast at the ritual circle's center.

[Host must sacrifice something of equivalence for the ritual's completion! A Sacrifice of Severance is required!]

Staring at the moon, which seemed an eerie mirror of himself, he whispered, I sever my past.

Abruptly, the world froze. An old, forgotten yet precious memory surfaced in Yur's mind—perhaps the only one he truly held dear.

Time to cast it away...