The Damned Demon-Chapter 826: The Awakening

The area around the two naked figures was still thick with heat and tension, the air electric with the remnants of what had just happened.

The scent of sweat, desire, and raw emotions clung to the cold, ancient stone walls, mixing with the ever-present aura of decay and dark mana in the ruins.

Asher's breath was heavy, his muscles taut, his mind still reeling from what had just occurred. What the hell had he done? Did he really kiss her?

He had always seen her as less than a slave and hated her so much he never wanted to kiss her and make her feel like a person.

He didn't know why but shortly after the moment their bodies joined together, it was like a dam breaking.

All that anger.

All that hatred.

All that pent-up frustration.

It had all exploded into something violent, something desperate—something that neither of them could stop.

Rebecca was equally shaken as all the memories of what she said and did hit her head like a hammer. Her pale was red as an apple as she remembered the stupid, embarrassing things she told him as he ravaged her.

Why did she even say those things and cry like a pathetic bitch?

Did he use some forbidden magic on her to make her act like someone she couldn't recognize?

And now, as they sat there, still reeling, still recovering from the storm they unleashed upon each other, not knowing what to do.

Suddenly, the heavy, tense silence in the room was shattered by the presence of two figures standing behind them.

Asher felt them before he saw them, their aura cold and emotionless—one was merely a shadow cast by an undead monster, the other a silent executioner.

He didn't turn around.

Rebecca, however, extended her neck.

Her dark eyes widened in shock before narrowing into slits.

She gasped, her face heating up in both frustration and shame, as she immediately grabbed her torn black gown from the floor and clutched it to her chest, covering herself as she hissed,

"You two have no shame?"

Her voice carried an edge of fury, but there was something else beneath it—embarrassment.

Because in the heat of the moment, when they had lost themselves, she had let too much slip.

Words she should have never spoken.

Emotions she should have never acknowledged.

And to make it worse, Skully and Valeria had witnessed it all.

Skully remained still, his hollow sockets staring straight ahead.

But then he spoke.

And as always, his voice was as dead as his form—hollow, empty, unfeeling.

"Your body is now sufficiently prepared for the next trial."

His words lacked any intonation, devoid of sarcasm or intent, yet somehow, that made it worse.

Rebecca's eye twitched, and she instinctively reached for a rock nearby, ready to hurl it at him.

But she stopped herself.

Because this thing wouldn't even react.

It wouldn't flinch.

It wouldn't care.

That only infuriated her more.

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath as she gritted her teeth.

She shifted her gaze toward Valeria, who stood still like a statue, her eerie crimson eyes locked onto Asher.

"Why are you staring at him so much? It's not like it's your first time seeing him naked, hmph!" Rebecca found it annoying to see her stare at him like that, as if she wanted a piece of that meat too now that they did it before her.

Valeria seemed unfazed by her words and simply handed over Asher's robes to him though Rebecca was already lost in her own sea of thoughts.

Her fingers gripped the fabric of her gown tightly, feeling frustrated and confused—not at them, but at herself.

At what she had done.

At what she had said.

The things she had cried out at his face...

She shouldn't have said any of it.

Asher slowly rose to his feet, his face cold and unreadable once again.

The moment was over.

Whatever had just happened—it shouldn't mean anything but a moment of vulnerability he got lost into due to the physical and mental agony he had been going through.

At least, that's what he told himself.

Without acknowledging Rebecca, without looking at her even once, he turned to Valeria and pulled out a dark red letter.

Another one.

Rebecca's eyes flickered toward it, feeling something sharp twist in her chest.

She clenched her jaw but said nothing.

Asher extended the letter to Valeria.

"Please, deliver this to Rowena," his voice was firm yet low.

But then, for the first time, he added something more.

"But this time I want you to give it to her personally."

Valeria took the letter in her metal-clad fingers and gave a silent nod.

Then, without a word, she turned and walked away, vanishing into the darkness.

Rebecca, who had been watching the entire exchange, scoffed under her breath.

"Another love letter for your queen?" Her tone was sharp, biting, but there was something else hidden behind it.

Asher ignored her completely.

That made her feel even worse.

She wanted to say more.

She wanted to taunt him, provoke him, anything.

But nothing came out.

Instead, she could only stare at his back, her lips pressed together, her fists clenched.

Why the hell did she feel like this?

He kissed her and she won't forget that nor will she let him. He can't get away with it.

Asher finally turned to Skully, his dark yellow eyes burning with cold fire.

He could still feel her gaze on his back, but he ignored it.

That was over.

Now, only one thing mattered.

Power.

Strength.

Without it, he would be nothing.

Without it, he would fail.

Without it, he could never reclaim what was his.

Without it, he won't be able to take revenge and obliterate this enemies.

Without it…he will lose everything he cared about.

His hands clenched into tight fists, the faint remnants of dark flames still lingering on his skin.

"Do your worst." His voice was steady, controlled.

Unshaken.

Skully merely tilted his head slightly, his glowing sockets unblinking.

"Then let us begin."

His hand rose, fingers curling, as the darkness swallowed them whole.

Just like all the times before, Skully would break him down completely, over and over, making Asher instinctively tap into his life force to keep himself from crumbling into nothingness.

But every time he did—Skully took it from him, preventing him from healing.

He was fading.

Each time it happened, his body shriveled, his limbs lost their strength, and his eyes burned with the sheer pressure of depletion.

Every time, he would reach for something, anything, but his mana refused to return.

Every time, he failed.

And Rebecca was there—watching everything.

She saw the moments when he couldn't lift his own arms.

She saw when he was reduced to a husk of himself for the umpteenth time, his body barely clinging to existence.

Each time she saw it, it was like a piece of her heart was being ripped. It felt similar to how each time she saw Oberon getting hurt or in a dangerous situation.

Her eyes quivered in realization if this meant she actually…loved him? No! That cannot be!

She can't love him…she can't…

*Thud!*

And then she saw him collapse yet again, laying on the ground, gasping, his body failing again.

Rebecca had seen and experienced many things in her life—horrors, tragedies, betrayals—but nothing had prepared her for this cycle of torture that was happening to someone else and not her.

She thought she could get used to seeing it since it should be nothing new to her.

But seeing his once-indomitable figure was now reduced to bones barely clinging to withered flesh, his dark green flames barely flickering, struggling to remain alive just made her feel something snap inside her.

Her fists clenched.

Her heart pounded.

Her breath trembled.

A deep, visceral rage boiled in her chest.

And before she could think—before she could stop herself—

"Enough!!"

Her voice echoed, raw and feral, as she whipped around to face Skully.

"Stop this cruel torture, you rotten bag of bones!" she snarled, eyes blazing with fury. "Just kill him already if you're only toying with his life like this!"

She was breathing heavily, her body tense with rage, her sharp nails digging into her palms as she glared at the unmoving undead.

But Skully…

He didn't even flinch.

His hollow sockets remained fixed on Asher's unmoving body.

Then, with that same lifeless, cold tone, he spoke.

"It will stop when he awakens."

Rebecca's brows furrowed, her frustration bubbling.

"Awakens?! He is barely alive, you heartless bastard!"

Skully remained unmoved.

"He will wake… when he hears the call."

Rebecca blinked, her breath shaky as she stared at Skully in confusion.

"What… what the hell does that even mean?"

-

Somewhere, in the depths of his fading consciousness, Asher heard something.

A faint ripple.

A deep, powerful energy, pulsating across the earth like an invisible current.

It wasn't mana.

It wasn't darkness.

It was something older… something raw.

Something damned.

The more he listened, the more he felt its presence permeating everything.

The air.

The stone beneath him.

The silence that stretched across the ruins.

It was everywhere.

And then—

A whisper.

Low.

Deep.

Dead.

And chilling.

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"You call yourself Asher. But even a name is a shackle, forged to contain what lies beneath."

Asher's breath hitched.

This voice…he had heard it before…a long time ago.

"You are more than just the Bringer of Damnation. You are not bound by fate, nor by time. You are bound only by your refusal to remember what you truly are."

Remember who he truly was? What was he exactly supposed to remember? It was not as if he ever forgot anything. He couldn't even if he wanted to.

"They tried to break you, to bury you beneath their chains for eternity. But you were never meant to kneel. Rise, and claim what was always yours."

The voice was neither kind nor cruel.

It was a statement.

A truth.

A command.

And something deep inside Asher responded.

His fingers twitched against the cold stone floor, the last remnants of flesh barely clinging to his hand. His eyes, once void of fire, flickered.

For the first time, he truly felt something.

He reached out—not with desperation, not with fear—but with instinct.

And the world answered.

A force older than time itself surged toward him, not like the radiant mana that burned his kind, not like the dark mana he wielded—this was something else. Something primal. Something that belonged to him, yet had been beyond his reach until now.

And now?

It came to him like an old friend long forgotten.

The ground beneath him shuddered as eerie, dark green tendrils of energy coiled toward him from the very air, from the ruins, from the cracks in the earth. A force that pulsed like a second heartbeat welcomed him back into the fold.

The moment he let it in, his body ignited.

Not in flames.

But in power.

Skin knit itself over brittle bones, flesh wove back together, layer by layer. His blood—darker, richer, heavier—began to surge through his veins once more, pumping with a force greater than anything he had ever known.

The agony of starvation, of depletion, of decay—it vanished. Replaced by something infinitely stronger.

Rebecca, who had been frozen in horror moments ago, stumbled back, her lips parting in sheer disbelief as she saw dark green veins branching out from the walls and the ground to wrap around Asher.

It just seemed to be coming from everywhere, making her jaw drop.

"H-How is he—" she gasped, her eyes locked onto the grotesquely beautiful sight of Asher's body reforming itself before her eyes.

Skully, who had remained silent, finally spoke.

"He finally heard it."

His hollow, lifeless tone sent a chill down Rebecca's spine before she turned to look at Asher again.

And for the first time, she felt something within him that truly terrified her.

It wasn't the man she had always hated.

It wasn't the monster she had feared.

It was something else entirely.

And it was awakening.