God-Tier Villain

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

"All I can say is, as expected of Master."

Soren didn’t let the flattery carry him anywhere, he asked plainly, "Do you know this sword’s origins?"

"Ah? This... this is the legendary Heavenly Resentment Demonic Sword!?" Arnold looked like he’d seen a ghost, one breath short of crying out loud.

It wasn’t hard to read the reaction, Arnold not only knew the sword’s origins, he knew those origins were no small matter.

Soren had merged with his predecessor’s memories, but Arnold had lived far longer and simply knew more, and the Strategy Encyclopedia only volunteered information about targets he meant to conquer, he hadn’t needed to conquer the sword, so it had told him nothing beyond the method.

"Yes, Master, this old servant has heard a few things about the Heavenly Resentment Sword."

"It is a matter from two hundred thousand years ago."

"Our demon race once had a Demon Ancestor named Nythera, and the Heavenly Resentment Sword was that Ancestor’s personal sword."

"She was later killed in battle against a Human Ancestor."

"Rumor holds that the hilt was forged from a section of spine the Demon Ancestor separated from her own body. It carries a portion of her power, absorbs resentment, and can change its length and size at will."

"Even broken, it can regrow its blade by devouring enough resentment."

"It is hailed as the demonic sword that can never be destroyed."

Soren fell silent.

He knew the name Nythera, but she was an ancient figure from two hundred thousand years past, he knew little beyond the name.

Something didn’t add up, the personal sword of a Demon Ancestor should have been passed down as a sacred treasure.

Instead it had lain buried here for two hundred thousand years with no one sparing it a glance.

Pathetic.

Why hadn’t the victorious Human Ancestor carried off something this terrifying? Was this the first battlefield where the two Ancestors clashed? Had Nythera fallen here while fleeing?

Questions, all of them, but Soren had no intention of wasting time on guesses that changed nothing.

Who cared where it came from? The Heavenly Resentment Demonic Sword was his now, from this day forward, it answered to one master only.

"This old servant has also heard that though the Heavenly Resentment Demonic Sword is an Emperor-tier weapon, it differs from the ordinary kind."

"The more resentment it devours, the stronger it grows, it holds many unknown possibilities."

"The young master must make good use of it."

Soren nodded and stored the sword away.

Inside the spatial storage, the Heavenly Resentment Demonic Sword quivered, and its eyeball-like gemstone glowed with blood-red demonic light.

Blood mist and scattered souls gathered within the gem, taking shape as a mysterious woman in a short black dress, her soft, jade-pale bare feet crossed at the ankles.

She opened her eyes slowly, pupils like fresh blood.

An aura wicked and bewitching, and in her smile, a faint trace of sick obsession.

"The restriction sealed in the hilt has finally been triggered."

"Are you this Ancestor’s chosen one?"

"I do so want to meet you sooner."

"Use it. Use it. Take me and drink resentment to your heart’s content, only then can I reincarnate faster."

Her expression was eerie and bloodthirsty as she laughed like a madwoman.

The next second, she went utterly still and serious.

"My dear... husband."

...

"Arnold, do you know why I brought you to the Ten Thousand Demons Cliff?"

"The young master has his reasons, Arnold need only obey," Arnold said with a faint smile.

"You really are airtight. You’ll know in a moment."

Arnold bowed. "Yes, young master."

Soren led him charging down into the bowl-shaped mountain, straight for its depths.

The two descended through a band of dim light, and then the world opened up.

Purple radiance dazzled in every direction, pale purple crystals grew from every surface, as if they had stepped into a crystal palace.

Firefly-like demonic insects drifted in gentle spirals around Soren, feeding on purple motes scattered through the air, gathering in ever greater numbers.

It was strangely beautiful.

Soren swept his gaze across the cavern, the next second, it locked onto a purple-black demonic lotus hovering at the very center.

The lotus was about a meter across, with no root and no stem, rotating in perfect silence, every petal looked carved from black-purple glazed glass, radiating a cold that sank into the bones.

And yet, somehow, it was not entirely unbearable to behold.

The World-Destroying Demonic Lotus had sat here for a hundred thousand years without a single Demon Emperor claiming it.

Which meant it was nothing like as simple as it looked, beneath that stillness slept destructive power on an unimaginable scale.

Anyone fooled by the faint ripples on its surface who simply grabbed for it was dead, no exceptions.

Soren decided to touch the lotus first, only through contact could the Strategy Encyclopedia read it and produce the method to claim it.

"Arnold, step back a bit."

"Yes."

Soren’s shadow moved like a gale, trailing burning energy. In an instant he stood before the World-Destroying Demonic Lotus.

Sensing his approach, the petals trembled faintly, breathing out bone-deep cold in threads of purple and black.

He hesitated for half a heartbeat, then he reached out and touched it.

The instant his fingers met the petals, an unseen, terrifying suction seized him, his reaction was lightning-fast, before his wrist could be swallowed whole, he wrenched his arm back.

"Young master, be careful!"

Arnold could do nothing but fret from the sidelines.

Soren waved him off, but his palm had been frostbitten by a surge of purple-black cold energy, the skin cracked and bleeding, fortunately, the cold hadn’t reached bone.

It was enough.

He pulled up the Strategy Encyclopedia at once.

On the panel, an image identical to the World-Destroying Demonic Lotus appeared, the strategy laid out beneath it.

[The birth of the World-Destroying Demonic Lotus was no accident, the environment here was uniquely suited to it.]

[When Demon Ancestor Nythera stood on the verge of death, knowing the generational blood feud between demon and human, she spent her final strength detonating herself into blood mist so that no human cultivator could trample her corpse.]

[The Ancestor’s blood, meeting this perfect environment, took a hundred thousand years to birth the World-Destroying Demonic Lotus, and another hundred and twenty thousand to grow it.]