Chapter 668: Lost from the Divine (1).

Cain cleared his throat. Doing his best to swallow the mouthful of saliva building up in his mouth, he closed his fist, and the ring disappeared into his inventory rather quickly.Then he sat in silence, waiting for the next treasure the demon wanted to give him.

'What a treasure chest I have stumbled across.'

It was as the old saying goes. To gain, you must first accept your losses.

So far, Cain was quite pleased with what he had gained.

Azazel gave him a dirty look,

"What, you still want xmore stuff?!"

Cain shrugged, "Depends. Do you still have more to give?"

Azazel pursed his lips, then sighed,

"Inside the ring, there is also a communicator. You can use it to reach out to me any time, although I doubt I will always be available."

Cain frowned, "A communicator?"

Azazel nodded, "It is very straightforward in its usage, so I don't think there should be any problems."

Azazel was silent for a moment before adding,

"I know I've said this before, but I'll remind you; not every battle has to be fought with a blade or a bullet. Right now, your focus should be on rebuilding and survival."

Cain nodded, his expression serious,

"You don't have to tell me."

There was a momentary silence. Finally, Azazel got up and beckoned to him,

"Follow me."

They both walked towards the door.

The doors Cain had struggled so much to open a crack in were easily pushed by Azazel.

Cain decided to hide his amazement.

As they walked through the stone hallways, the soft glow of the Mana lanterns hit the cast writhing shadows.

Azazel suddenly spoke up,

"By the way I have another piece of advice for you."

Cain raised a brow, "And that would be?"

Azazel gently scratched his cheek, as though he was having difficulty saying what needed to be said,

"This... I think it would be best if you didn't use any of your mana or ki, or even Demon Matter for a while."

Cain paused in his tracks and gave Azazel a death glare,

"What do you mean by that?"

Azazel shifted uncomfortably under his glare,

"Well, I meant to tell you this earlier, but it slipped my mind. Your physical body might have healed up, but the damage to your spirit is still considerable."

He gave Cain a side glance,

"And judging from the look on your face, it seems you had an idea this was the case, didn't you..."

Cain clenched his fists,

"My body feels powerful. But is also feels like I'm carrying a few tons in my chest. Everytime I try circulating my Mana or ki, the weight grows heavier, and I feel like I could die."

Azazel nodded, "Give it some time. Your spirit heals the same way your body heals. For now, it would be best for you not to use any spells and skills."

Cain scratched the back of his head in confusion,

"Then what do I do? How do I fight?"

Azazel chuckled, "Didn't I just tell you? If you have to fight— don't."

Cain fell silent, a bit stumped at Azazel's words,

'If you have to fight— don't. What the hell is that supposed to mean?!'

The enigmatic demon then fell silent, leaving Cain to his thoughts.

He quietly went over all the things he had just been granted.

'The hammer is to improve my smithskills. The tome is to improve my knowledge and provide me with insight. The mana cores are a testament to my... negotiation skills.'

But there were other benefits as well.

Like the communicator, although he didn't think he would be making use of it any time soon.

And then, there was the ring. Its capacity was far greater than his inventory's, meaning the volume of things he could store on his peeson had gone up considerably.

His three wishes were more than fulfilled. They were superceded.

Despite that, the rewards were still reasonable. And then, there was the other results he had gained from the system after his battle with Balangol, although those couldn't be quantified. Experience tales at M-V-L

He opened up his status page and read through the strings of system prompts for what seemed like the hundredth time.

***

{Congratulations to Host... You have slain a Champion of Balangol}.

{+10,000 Free attribute points}.

{You have acquired the title, Celestial Blood Hunter}.

{Celestial Blood Hunter}: A heretical being who seeks to devour the lineage of Celestials. All effects caused by Celestial Will are reduced by thirty percent.

{Congratulations to Host... Upon devouring a trace of Celestial Bloodline, your skill, Fiend Counter, has evolved into the skill, Demon Scales}.

{Demon Scales}: Measures the accumulative amount of Demon Matter gathered by the host.

{Due to absorbing a trace of the Spirit King, the host's mortal body had been improved on all levels fundamentally}.

{+10,000 to all stats}.

***

Although there were a few other changes and evolutions of different skills and spells, these were the rewards he believed held the most significance at this time. Sёarch* The NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

A ten thousand point increase across the board was an incredible amount.

And according to what the system has said, this had happened because he had absorbed a trace of the Spirit King.

He had plenty questions, chief amongst them being who exactly this Spirit King was. But he had an idea as to what it was.

'The white, non-elemental star from the Gate of Stars.'

Then, there was the change to Fiend Counter. Because of the characteristic and quantitative change that had come over his Demon Matter, the name Fiend Counter was no longer appropriate.

Instead, the system now measured each unit of the energy source in Demon Scales. Each scale was equivalent to ten units of energy.

And he currently possessed a thousand of them. Meaning the amount of Demon Matter he could accommodate had increased by about ten thousand times, which was tremendous.

However...

He won't be able to see the fruits of these changes for some time.

'If I can't use any of my energy source, then I will have to rely on improving my body and combat techniques.'

Of course, there was the option of improving his arsenal of weapons as well, but he put that out of his mind for now.

In any case, he sincerely doubted it was possible for any other human to hold a candle to him, even if he couldn't use any of his arcane might, or his demonic transformations.

And then, there was the new title. He had no doubts it would come in handy in the future...

"We have arrived."

They arrived at a very familiar place.

An archway with various runes, terrifying motifs, and even more frightening decorative pieces.

Staring at the skull at the helm of the archway, Cain wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Azazel shoved him,

"Alright, get going. You've overstayed your welcome."

Staggering a bit, Cain chuckled, then turned around and gave a light bow,

"Thanks for the hospitality."

With that, he stepped through the archway and was sucked into the turbulent space.

Left there in silence, Azazel let out a silent sigh and chuckled to himself.

He looked around,

"Looks like I'll have to be leaving for some time. Alveera, come with me."

The void cracked open, and an eight feet tall creature with the upper body of an impossibly beautiful woman, but the lower body of a serpent walked out.

She bowed with reverence towards Azazel and looked towards the archway,

"You seem to care about him a lot, Lord Azazel."

Azazel snorted, "He's an investment. An investment, I tell you. If he does, I'll lose a lot."

Alveera remained silent, merely giving the Demon a blank look.

Azazel sighed,

"Alright, don't go asking unimportant questions. Send a message to the others and have them meet me at Nova Central."

Alveera raised a brow, "You mean..."

Azazel nodded, "Yeah. All of them. Tell them we have a war on our hands. This time, things might get ugly. Also..."

He paused for a moment, then sighed,

"Tell them I've found the Successor."

"Yes, Lord Azazel."

Then the demon turned around and vanished through the archway, the ruptured space swallowing him.

***

Cain fell through the vortex of swirling space for what seemed like a second and eternity at the same time...

Then his face kissed the ground and his mouth was filled with coarse sand.

Muttering a string of curses, Cain let out a groan and sat up, spitting the grit from his mouth,

Then he looked up to the sky.

It was a night sky, starless with a giant moon that filled up a majority of the horizon.

The sky was littered with sprinkles of clouds saturated with Mana here and there as well.

A little closer to the ground was a dome of energy that appeared to cover a large area.

It was the dome of sands. Or rather, it used to be the dome of sands.

Now, the dome of sands was rapidly losing energy because of the absence of both Balangol and his champion.

Without the presence of their patron diety, the Pilgrim's and their people will gradually lose the layers of protection they had relied on, and the devils and every other abomination beyond the dome would come rushing in.

'A few days, maybe a week more at best.'

Cain looked around him.

The sands were mostly gone, replaced with the broken vestitudes of what used to be a wonderful urban civilization.

It was a tragic painting.

Cain quickly got his bearings.

He was still within the gorge, or rather, the area that was supposed to be the gorge.

Only, the sands were no more. Instead, there were just pieces of broken buildings lying all around.

As well as a sea of corpses. Since it had only been a day, the dead had not begun to decompose yet.

But the stench of death remained thick and viscous.

And from the sound of things, the fighting was still ongoing. Only, the battle had moved from the gorge, and into General Arltzwalt's territory.

He already knew where he needed to go