Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

Adam met the gazes of Astaroth, Aamon, Barbatos, Rashaverak, and Pruflas. Their green eyes shone like torches of righteous heroes risen against oppression. Yet, he knew there was more to it. There had to be—there always were with demons.

Of course, the most straightforward reason for this group’s desire to betray the demon kings was to replace them, especially for Astaroth. A crowned prince was merely a glittering title, a transition before he became the real ruler of hell. Something impossible if the seven devils returned, especially Satan, who dominated fire in all its forms.

And yet, the basis of this deduction was also its flaw: it built on the premise that the wild hunt spoke the truth. If Baal’s insidiousness had no limit, he was sure Astaroth ranked remarkably close. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

His eyes narrowed. ’That puppet master is Satan’s successor. Perhaps he can use part of the devil’s authority, or is building one even more frightening. If anything, he’s not scared of me in the slightest. He has something to rely on.’ He shook his head. ’I don’t trust him—I don’t trust anyone. Words are cheap, and the abyss’ putrid air is still fresh in my nose. Never again. But conflict isn’t what I seek, not now, not when they can blackmail me.’

A forced smile curved his lips as he nodded at Astaroth, his voice apologetic yet firm. "When I said I’ll need time to consider, I meant at least a few days. Let me handle a personal matter or two first. Then, I’ll most likely join you."

"What’s there to consider?" Aamon hissed through his teeth, raising his fists. "We’re your only salvation. But you, insignificant ascended, are trying to reject it!"

As Adam gripped his God Slayer’s hilt and the other demons raised their guards, Astaroth’s loose pants ruffled as he stomped the ground.

CRACK

Stones shattered beneath his boot, golden flames erupting through the cracks. Dust swirled, stunned silence settled, and everyone observed his mouth open to let out a chilly voice.

"Enough, fools." He glared at Adam. "You’ll understand soon enough that every path has already been shut down before you could even tread on them. We’re the last chance you have." He waved his hand, a blazing arrow forming on Adam’s Abyssal Wayfinder’s parchment. "Go on. It’ll guide you to Forneus’ city. Witness the myriad realms preparing to kill you; witness the futility of your refusal. Then, crawl back, battered—defeated—to accept in humiliation what you could have had with your pride intact."

Adam’s hand trembled around his blade’s hilt. He clenched his jaw, fire searing his veins, anger burning in his marrow. Yet, he nodded and turned, his voice, as cold as Astaroth’s, echoing amidst the dust. "Would you show any interest if I didn’t overcome the abyss, returned to tell the tale when no one thought it possible, only to infiltrate the underworld, kill one of the oldest Titans, and survive Zeus and Hades’ pursuit?"

He walked out of the lounge, his eyes swirling into chaotic pools as he left a last remark. "No matter how confident you are, don’t forget where I came from—who I am."

A tense silence engulfed the lounge before Astaroth broke it with a sigh. "That was unnecessary, Aamon."

Aamon snorted. "We’ve laid everything before his eyes. You know I hate indecisive people."

Barbatos massaged his brow. "I hope he won’t refuse because of your little stunt."

"He already refused." Astaroth shrugged, an amused sneer escaping his curled lips. "Let him fight the demon kings if that’s what he wants. As he said, his achievements speak for themselves. Who knows? We might see our plan succeed without lifting a finger if he wins. If he doesn’t..."

His lips parted into a smirk, revealing rows of triangular teeth sharp as daggers. "We’ll attach strings to his exhausted limbs and control everything from behind the scenes. Didn’t I say it? Every path available to him was shut down long ago."

The others joined in his sneer, laughing at Adam as if he were an ant walking in circles between their clawed fingertips.

Adam didn’t share their amusement. Shadows danced on his tense face. Hand still gripping his blade’s hilt, he wiped the icy sweat covering his forehead.

Astaroth’s flames... The blade reacted to them, confirming his suspicions. After all, its metal came from the brazier built to contain it. ’He can partially wield Satan’s authority, perhaps even completely.’

Mimir’s explanations thundered in his mind, reminding him how horrifying these flames were.

’The Crown of Flames, a brilliant, white-hot flame that imposes absolute control over all fire, commanding it like a sovereign, evolving it into plasma—the ultimate state of energy—capable of bending the laws of nature itself.’

"The overwhelming superiority of pride, reflected in a flame that reigns supreme over others." He repeated under his breath as he walked out of the arena, his eyes narrowing into chaotic slits. "I’ll kill that dangerous bastard before leaving this cursed realm."

He walked through the city’s sinuous streets, passing by the same casinos and brothels without glancing at them. Instead, a conflicted sigh escaped his dry lips.

The more he witnessed, the more his stomach churned. He needed more essence, better mastery, and improved control. Not over fire—over chaos. But could he wield chaos on its own when even Tiamat tied it to saltwater? The other chaotic divinities seemed to do the same. Chaos wasn’t a shapeable element, but something that brought change and evolution, like when he turned his flames into plasma.

’Should I develop more spells for my spatial affinity?’ He tucked his fingers around his chin. ’I can also explore time or nature with the traits I plundered from Cronus and Oberon. But will I have enough time to turn them into affinities? Shit. I don’t know.’

He exhaled a mouthful of turbid air and scalding smoke as he crossed the gates.

Surprised guards yelped and licked their lips, savage smirks stretching their faces into greedy grimaces. Free Essence!

But Adam didn’t spare them a glance. His wings unfurled, the blast throwing the guards off their feet. Some flew back, crashing into the walls. Others shoved their fingers into the barren soil, leaving ten deep marks as they fought against the roaring gale’s pressure.

Despite their different reaction, they all shared the same horrified shudder. Not free essence—a monster they couldn’t offend.

They watched him soar, sighing in relief, while Adam scrutinised the golden arrow on his map. "I’ll ask Mimir once I return to Atlantis... with Luna."