─────────────────────────────

  Status: Locked

  Unlock Requirement: Defeat your first demonic entity.

  ─────────────────────────────

  A soft line of text followed afterward.

  [The Demonery functions as a living documentary of Hell’s inhabitants. The more you slay, the more it will reveal, and the more it will give you in return.]

  Enochia stared at it for a long second, then huffed out a small laugh. “Okay. Yeah. That’s actually… insanely useful.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she reread the rewards line.

  Her smile sharpened.

  “Taking into account I’ll probably be stuck here for a while,” she muttered, folding her arms, “This is about to become my favorite tab.”

  From what she remembered, foggy or not, demons worked in a strange way. There were millions of them, and countless variations, but demons of the same variation and tier were practically identical. Same build, same instincts, same bad habits, over and over again. “Mass-produced trash mobs,” she said under her breath.

  Now, all that remained was the last tab. The one that bothered her the most, even more than Demonery.

  She swallowed once, then called it. “Race.”

  ─────────────────────────────

  Current Race: Demon of Hate

  Racial Traits:

  ? [Core of Spite] – The user’s hatred cannot be extinguished. Mental effects that would break the users will are greatly reduced.

  ? [Demonic Sight] – The user possesses perfect vision in natural darkness, perceiving detail up to 200 meters away.

  ? [Infernal Adaptation] – The user is resistant to ambient Hell corruption and lesser demonic auras.

  ? [Scorch-Eater] – The user takes 50% less damage from all fire-based abilities and environmental fire effects.

  Racial Penalties:

  ? [Heaven-Sealed] – Access to Heaven is currently blocked.

  ? [Faith Distortion] – Direct holy blessings may behave unpredictably.

  ? [Burned by Grace] – The user takes 50% increased damage from all holy/light-based attacks.

  ? [Unstable Essence] – Because the user’s transformation is incomplete, sudden emotional surges may briefly suppress a random stat.

  ? [Ember of Wrath] – Any emotion the user experiences automatically feeds into their wrath.

  ─────────────────────────────

  Enochia cracked. Her head tipped back and she let out a sound that was halfway between hysterical amusement and feral laughter.

  “OH FUCK YES!” she barked, slapping the race window. “Demon of Hate? THAT’S what you turned me into?” She wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning like a lunatic. “Yeah. Yeah, that tracks. Honestly? This suits me.”

  This did not bother her, this did not bother her, this did not bother her. She really tried to convince herself of this, even if she instantly knew it not to be true. That went away as soon as she distracted herself with the good parts of this transformation.

  Perfect darkness vision. Not that great to be honest.

  Fire resistance? Ok, that one was much, much better.

  Core of Spite? What a weird-ass name, but whatever, it was a nice bonus to have.

  The penalties barely made her blink.

  “Ohhh, that’s adorable,” she said, waving it off. “My emotions feed my anger? Boo-hoo.”

  “Wait, I think I might be able to get some demonic abilities too. Oh, I cannot wait to see what those look like,” she whispered. “Demon evolutions always go stupid with abilities. Give me something unhinged, Roo. Don’t you dare be boring.”

  Then a familiar ping rattled the air.

  [Quest Complete: Initiation – Explore the New System]

  She blinked as the text updated.

  ─────────────────────────────

  QUEST COMPLETED — Initiation

  Category: System Familiarization

  Objective:

  Explore and interact with the System to understand its baseline features and functions. Progress is measured by engagement and discovery.

  Progress: 100%

  ─────────────────────────────

  Rewards Granted:

  ? 3 Windcharges

  ? 1,000 XP

  “Oh shit, XP already!”

  [LEVEL UP!]

  +2 Stat Points

  +10 Souls

  “…Two?” she muttered. “Wait. Since when do I get two?”

  A second later it clicked.

  “Oh. OH. Demons are second-tier evolutions. Imps are base form. So I get double the stat points per level.” Her grin sharpened dangerously. “Damn. That’s good.”

  She didn’t spend the points yet.

  “Nope. Saving those. No idea how strong shit down here is, and I refuse to spend my points like an idiot until I see what I’m dealing with.” She flicked the Status window closed with a satisfied hum. “Besides… Roo wouldn’t put me into an inescapable trap. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Okay he might have… Fuck.”

  “Also… Souls? What the hell are souls supposed to be?” she muttered, jabbing the air. “Why am I collecting souls?”

  This time Roo actually answered.

  [Souls are a currency. You will learn their use upon reaching Level 30. They serve as a primary medium of exchange within the Shop.]

  Enochia blinked. “…Oh. Right. That thingy.” She waved her hand, unimpressed. “Yeah, okay. It’d be pretty weird if I could buy shit from a literal angel with cash. ‘Hi Roo, can I get a holy artifact? I’ve got twenty bucks and a Walkspace coupon'.”

  Her eyes narrowed, suspicious.

  “…But why are you taking souls? Isn’t that, like, sketchy as fuck? You’re supposed to be the good guy, remember? Angels and souls, that’s usually villain behavior.”

  [That remains a secret.]

  Enochia stared for two seconds. Then shrugged. “Whatever. Add it to the list of shit I’ll come back to later.”

  She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and exhaled sharply as she surveyed the hallway again. “Alright, enough sightseeing,” she muttered. “Let’s get the hell out of this shithole.”

  She once again opened her inventory and equipped one Windcharge. A tiny sphere of tightly compressed white wind appeared in her palm, spinning like a miniature hurricane trapped inside glass.

  “Sick. Okay, so Windcharge equals… wind. Big surprise,” she muttered. “Roo clearly wants me to clear the room.”

  With as much ceremony as someone throwing a crumpled wrapper, she hurled the Windcharge at the nearest wall, and the effect was instantaneous.

  A violent bomb of compressed wind slammed outward, detonating the sand in all directions. The entire wall erupted in a geyser of grit and dust. Sand blasted across the corridor so hard Enochia had to duck, arm raised as a shield, her hair whipping back from the force.

  “GAH—FUCK!” she choked, squeezing her eyes shut as the cloud swallowed her.

  The explosion rattled the whole corridor. Sand rained in choking sheets. The ground trembled beneath her. When the storm finally started to settle, Enochia coughed through the cloud, wiping a wet stripe of mud-sand off her cheek.

  “…Okay,” she croaked, blinking grit from her lashes. “Note to self… never throw that shit with my face uncovered.”

  Enochia stepped through the hole she blasted into the sand wall, brushing the last clinging grains from her armor. She found herself standing in what looked unmistakably like a church, though everything about it was wrong.

  The architecture was human-like, sure, with vaulted ceilings, stained glass shapes, rows of long wooden benches, but the atmosphere felt hollow, like someone recreated the idea of a church from memory alone.

  It was bright inside, too. Unnaturally so. But the second she tilted her head, she realized why. “Oh right,” she muttered. “Night vision is already paying off. Cute.”

  The brightness wasn’t real, but was just her eyes adjusting everything automatically. The real light streaming through the broken windows was a deep crimson color, bleeding onto the floor like painted fire. A Hell thing. Obviously.

  She stepped deeper into the abandoned sanctuary, but paused mid-step when something flickered at the far end of the room.

  ‘Movement?’

  Her instincts sharpened instantly. She pulled up her Map again, and the screen expanded. The whole church bloomed into view, and sure enough, far toward the entrance of the building, a tiny red dot zipped back and forth erratically in the corner.

  “…Of course something’s here,” she muttered.

  Then she noticed something else, a green dot. Near the altar, just in front of her. “Oh cool,” she whispered dryly. “I’ll get to it once I deal with that thing.”

  She inhaled, rolled her shoulders, then commanded under her breath:

  [Chains of Nebuchadnezzar]

  Light rippled from her hands before three chains erupted from them like metallic serpents.

  Enochia grabbed one mentally and pointed it toward a bench, a long wooden row meant for dozens of people, but the name escaped her.

  “Uh… people-sitting-long-bench? Whatever.”

  She wrapped three chains around it and hurled it across the church. The bench soared through the air and then crashed into the far wall with an explosive clang, which made Enochia wince

  “…Damn. That was loud. And stupid. Good job, me. I really hope I didn’t just alert a horde of those.”

  Then a shape crawled onto it from the side. Perched atop the broken bench like a demon gremlin, was a creature she recognized instantly.

  Small. Wire-thin. Body like cracked obsidian with molten seams glowing between each fissure. Horns curled upward like scorched bones. Its huge yellow eyes burned with insane joy, and its razor smile stretched from ear to ear.

  An Imp of Wrath.

  “One of these little pests.”

  The imp screeched, and then leaned forward, fire sparking across its limbs.

  “Yeah, yeah, come on then—”

  The imp roared, and its whole body exploded forward like a firework, making Enochia’s eyes widened. “Oh shit!”

  Enochia didn’t wait for the imp to close the distance. Her chains reacted before she even consciously commanded them and light snapped from her hands, as four more metal tendrils shot out, slicing through the air in clean arcs meant to intercept the charging demon.

  The imp was fast, faster even than she remembered them being.

  It ducked under the first chain, pivoted off the second, slid between the third and even leapt over the fourth with a manic giggle.

  But then, one chain grazed its leg. It was barely a tap, yet the imp tripped. It stumbled forward, claws scraping the floor, and before it could rebalance, three more chains slammed down on it, coiling around its torso, its arms, its neck, tightening and tightening until it couldn’t even wiggle.

  It screeched in fury and bit down on one of the chains with all its strength, and a tiny notification blinked in the corner of Enochia’s vision.

  [40 DMG Taken — Chain #3]

  Enochia blinked. Then she snorted. Then she outright laughed, planting a hand on her hip.

  “Oh, you absolute dummy,” she said, stepping closer as the imp thrashed helplessly. “Each one of those chains has HP equal to ten times my Faith. Which is, wait for it, one hundred and ten. So each chain has eleven hundred HP.”

  The imp froze for half a second. It looked up at her, then bit the chain again anyway.

  [40 DMG Taken — Chain #3]

  Enochia wheezed. “Buddy… it’ll take you a few minutes to bite through one. And while that might have been an interesting livestream, I forgot my camera at home.”

  She glanced down at her mana bar and grinned as it was completely full.

  “My Signature Skill is the only one in the world with no cooldown…” She cracked her knuckles. “And while it might not be as flashy or destructive as some other Saint-level bullshit, mine is the most consistent of them all.”

  Two more chains erupted from her arm, and she instantly swung them down.

  [110 DMG dealt]

  [110 DMG dealt]

  The imp shrieked, its body cracking under the force and she swung again with just a quick snap of her wrists

  [110 DMG dealt]

  And then, before her fourth strike even fully formed, the imp burst into embers and dissolved into red-black ash on the floor.

  A soft ping followed.

  [+1,000 XP]

  Enochia exhaled, wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead. The chains around her unraveled slowly, vanishing one by one.

  “God, that’s the only downside,” she muttered. “These damn things aren’t weightless.”

  [Dispel]

  And just like that, the chains were gone. She flexed her arms, feeling the strain settle deep into her muscles. Swinging chains was like lifting weighted steel cables soaked in concrete, and while not impossible, it was absolutely a workout.

  “Usually I only use two of them to bind while I finish them off with stronger spells, but swinging them like some gorilla barbarian…” She groaned. “Yeah, physical stats matter. Yuck.”

  She rubbed her jaw, thinking.

  She could invest in Strength. It would help her swing heavier chains, manipulate more weight and fight in close combat… But Strength didn’t scale any of her abilities… So even now, she had no intentions of making her whole build revolve around Strength. Faith was her thing. Faith made her magic hit harder, her chains stronger and her constructs impossible to break.

  This was a classic problem, and one of the reasons she was excited to go to that Minos Prime Academy.

  “Great,” she muttered. “A consult with an Apostle would do me wonders, but I doubt I can run across one down here.”

  She turned toward the altar again, eyes narrowing as she spotted the faint green dot on her map. “Alright…” she whispered. “Let’s see what the hell is waiting for me over there.”