{Chapter: 73: Rebirth in Flame and Blood [Middle Level Demon]}
Deeper and deeper he went, passing through layers of hard, sun-baked rock and brittle lava stone, sinking into the heart of the land.
At roughly 500 meters below the surface, the landscape around him began to change. The rock gave way to rivers of molten magma, the glowing currents flowing sluggishly through jagged underground caverns. The intense radiance painted the walls in violent hues of red and gold.
The temperature here was beyond lethal, enough to vaporize steel and flesh in an instant. But to Dex, who bore the blood of fire itself, it was almost comforting.
"No wonder the surface is so barren..." he thought with mild amusement as he floated through the searing underground rivers.
Looking at this scene, although Dex was a little surprised, he didn't care too much. After all, the environment of the Abyss has never been good.
Even for a demon, surviving so close to such raw, untamed energy was no trivial feat. Many would have been incinerated or driven mad by the relentless heat long before reaching these depths.
But Dex pressed on, unwavering.
When he finally reached a depth of nearly two thousand meters, he halted in a vast chamber where magma pooled and swirled like a living sea. Around him, he cast dozens of magical formations—layers of defensive spells, alarms, and barriers woven together in intricate patterns. Each glowed with a soft, crimson light, forming a shell of protection.
Only when he was fully prepared did he allow his body to relax.
Taking a deep breath, Dex closed his eyes.
A dense mist of blood and energy seeped from his pores, slowly coalescing into a thick cocoon around him. It wrapped his body completely, sealing him away from the outside world. From the outside, he now resembled a giant blood-red chrysalis, pulsing faintly with power.
Thus began his metamorphosis.
It was not a pleasant process.
For Dex, this was both a sublimation and a soul-exhausting experience.
The first sensation was one of melting—his body seemed to dissolve into its most basic components, as every cell, every bone, every shred of flesh were being liquefied by invisible fires. His soul, too, trembled under the strain, threatened by the relentless forces that sought to tear it apart and rebuild it anew.
The pain was beyond anything physical. It transcended mere sensation and stabbed deep into the core of his being, a thousand blades slicing through mind and spirit.
Every time this time came, he could clearly feel that he was being melted and recast bit by bit, just like the pupae stage before a caterpillar transformed into a butterfly.
Dissolve his entire body and reshape a more perfect self based on the old one!
This kind of pain and transformation not only occurs in the physical body, but also in the soul.
But Dex did not cry out. He did not resist.
Instead, he embraced the agony.
He welcomed it, understanding that it was only through destruction that he could achieve rebirth.
In the depths of his mind, he felt himself falling—plunging into an endless sea of screaming voices. Cries of agony, of sorrow, of despair echoed all around him. Billions of souls, long perished, yet their torment still lingered, woven into the very stone and fire of this hellish world.
Their pain seeped into him, filling his veins like molten lead.
And yet, within that suffering, he found... beauty.
He could hear their stories—their final thoughts, their shattered dreams, their desperate prayers. Each fragment of anguish added another thread to the vast, chaotic tapestry of existence.
Dex floated among them, absorbing their sorrow and making it part of himself.
He was pain. He was suffering.
And he reveled in it.
The longer he listened, the deeper his understanding grew. Pain was not merely something to endure—it was a crucible, a forge that burned away weakness and revealed the truth of existence.
Only through suffering could one be purified. Only through agony could one transcend.
Only by experiencing this pain can he truly comprehend it and leverage it more effectively against his opponents.
Every time he clearly felt this incomparable pain, Dex had some kind of realization, as if he understood the meaning of the concept of "pain" more deeply.
It was an indescribably wonderful feeling.
At this moment, Dex felt that he was the embodiment of pain and could easily bear and inflict it. He also seemed to hear all kinds of painful cries from this land over endless years, as if billions of creatures had transcended the barriers of time and were telling him about their own sufferings.
Listening carefully to the painful cries and savoring the various thoughts contained therein, Dex seemed to have heard the sound of chaos and was exposed to the negative torrent of the entire world.
His soul couldn't help but reveal the joy from the bottom of his heart…
—
After an unknown number of days spent submerged beneath the searing earth, the giant cocoon surrounding Dex finally reached its limit.
A sharp crack echoed through the molten tunnels, and a moment later, the crimson shell shattered into countless fragments of mist, dispersing into the underground cavern. The blood-red fog swirled briefly around Dex's body before being absorbed back into his flesh, strengthening and nourishing his being.
The transformation was complete.
Slowly, with a deliberate motion, Dex stepped forward from the shattered remains of the cocoon.
The changes to his body were drastic, undeniable, and awe-inspiring.
His once-imposing figure had grown even larger — from just over three meters tall to a towering 4.4 meters, exuding a pressure. The exoskeleton cladding his body had undergone a profound evolution: it no longer merely served as armor; it was now a grotesque masterpiece. Deep, black-red death-flowers blossomed across the surface, blooming into complex patterns that seemed to shift and writhe with a life of their own.
The wings that sprouted from his back, formerly a pair, had multiplied into four.
These wings were not only larger but infinitely more deadly. Sleek and slender, they stretched out like blades of night, forming a trident-shaped blade designed for both piercing and rending, capable of dismembering foes in a single, brutal lash.
Its edges lined with serrated barbs that glinted dangerously even in the dim light of the underground volcano. Its had become living weapons, ready to slice through armor and flesh with equal ease.
The two twisted horns A subtle, grim satisfaction curled at the corners of Dex's newly formed lips.
\\
Status
Name: Anton Arcane Garissa Asalon...Neron Orillia Blackheart
Race/Level: Demon-Mutated Flame Demon / Middle Demon (Advanced Stage)
Attributes:
Strength: 107
Endurance: 111
Speed: 106
Magic Power: 114
Soul: 118
Innate Abilities:
Self-Evolution – Plunder:
Your body perpetually optimizes itself, adapting with each conquest. Flesh, blood, and soul are absorbed to expedite your metamorphosis, transcending former limits with every kill.
Soul-Erosion Blood Flame:
Your very essence is fire—your blood has abandoned conventional magic, instead becoming a devastating, soul-corroding inferno. It does not merely burn; it devours, reducing all it touches to nothingness.
Exoskeleton – Scarlet:
Your body is clad in an armor of living scales, forged from your own essence. This ever-adapting shell offers extreme resistance, with various types and automatic repair functions, near-perfect breath concealment, and seamless environmental adaptability.
Eye of Insight – Void Breaking:
Your gaze pierces through deception and reality alike. No illusion, trick, or ordinary barrier can veil the truth from you. You see beyond the fabric of existence itself.
Death Plague – Death Plague Flower:
Plagues bend to your will, forming the ultimate manifestation of death. The Death Plague Flower serves as both your emblem and your harbinger, spreading disease in intricate forms of your own design. You can shape plagues into complex, organic forms — each bloom a nightmare, each spore a silent harbinger of ruin.
Self-Projection – Incarnation:
Distance holds no meaning—you may cast forth your incarnation across unfathomable distances, perceiving and acting as though you were truly there.
Magical Weapon – Crucible:
Any spell and fighting skill will become surprisingly simple in your eyes, and you can easily innovate and use them without sticking to the old-fashioned way. Spells, martial techniques, and magical formulas bend to your will. They merge, evolve, and innovate instinctively, allowing spontaneous creation of devastating hybrid attacks.
Revelation – Awakening:
Enlightenment burns within you, vastly accelerating your learning capabilities. Your understanding deepens as though guided by prophetic insight, granting you a foresight beyond mere intellect.
Pain – Torment:
Suffering is your domain. Pain is no longer just something you endure — it is your weapon. Your very presence induces agony in those around you, twisting their perception, eroding their sanity, and making suffering an unending spiral.
Abyss Contract:
By wielding the power of the Bottomless Abyss, you can accept summons at will and sign contracts using abyssal energy. Note: No one, not even a demon prince, can violate the contract.
Skills:
Evolution Points: 0
\\
Dex gazed at the status window with a sense of calm satisfaction.
He did not fixate on the sheer numerical improvements — he could feel it in his bones, in his soul.
The true leap forward was qualitative. His innate abilities had not merely grown stronger — they had evolved, intertwining and merging into something greater, something terrifying. Like molten ores smelted into unbreakable steel, his strengths had complemented one another, creating a being vastly superior to its former self.
He flexed his new limbs experimentally.
Whoosh.
The four wings at his back stirred with the gentlest thought, and his body, now bound by no worldly force, launched forward like a crimson bolt of lightning.
The underground rock, once dense and immovable, parted like soft clay. The magma, glowing and boiling around him, posed no obstacle at all. The heat and pressure, which would have obliterated lesser beings, felt as gentle as a summer breeze to his evolved form.
In less than a heartbeat, he pierced through two thousand meters of rock and molten stone, bursting into the surface sky like a comet.
The five burning suns still loomed overhead, casting their searing light across the scorched, barren land. However, where once the oppressive heat was suffocating, Dex now found it pleasantly invigorating. He soared freely in the ash-laden skies, the toxic winds playing harmlessly across his armored body.
Flying had changed fundamentally.
Previously, he had needed to flap his wings actively, relying on force and momentum to stay aloft.
Now, with a mere thought, he could suspend himself effortlessly in midair.
His wings no longer served purely mechanical functions; they manipulated gravity and spatial forces themselves. Flapping was now a tool of acceleration and maneuvering — a choice, not a necessity.
He rose higher, the vast, charred wasteland unfolding beneath him like a sea of blackened earth and smoldering volcanic peaks.
From this vantage, he could see the lands stretch endlessly, broken only by rivers of molten rock and craggy mountain ridges. Occasionally, distant plumes of ash would rise skyward from violent volcanic eruptions.
*****
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