Adam halted, scanning the deserted woods with sharp, predatory eyes. Massive oaks loomed on all sides, their shadows stretching across the forest floor. Far beyond them, faint city lights shimmered.

  No one’s following me.

  He smiled. “Come out.”

  Two Familiars materialized from the darkness and dropped to one knee.

  “Attack anything that gets within thirty feet of me.”

  They vanished back into the gloom, and Adam nodded in approval.

  System, activate Illusion Inducement and retrieve the corpses.

  Gallien’s body and the Salamander King’s carcass appeared at his feet, both motionless and broken.

  Adam stepped between them. Blackened tendrils crawled over his hands, and the corpses warped under his touch—blood draining, bones snapping, flesh darkening and bulging. The Salamander King doubled in size as jagged spikes erupted across its back and tail. Gallien’s corpse, by contrast, resembled Klein’s and the other Familiars he’d crafted before.

  “System, connect them to the Omen.”

  [Establishing Connection to Omen…]

  A shockwave rippled outward.

  Adam’s smile widened.

  [Connection unsuccessful!]

  [Summoning failed!]

  He blinked. “Huh? Why?”

  They looked exactly like his other Familiars. What was different?

  “System, why did the summoning fail?”

  Silence.

  He sighed. Of course. Another mystery he’d have to solve himself.

  Adam paced around the altered corpses, analyzing every inch.

  “Manipulator alters the bodies… Devour strips the essence… Summoner links them to the Omen…” He tapped his jaw. “Do they have to be alive for—no. I’ve worked on corpses before.”

  So why was this different?

  He crouched and examined the Salamander King’s charred hide. A small slit in the restored neck caught his eye.

  How did I miss that?

  He slid his arm in until his fingers met something solid; a heavy, pebble-like organ. A sharp scent of burnt iron filled the air as he yanked it free. The smell shifted into an acidic, molten stench.

  Flesh and blood? That shouldn’t be possible. Manipulator and Devour should’ve purged everything.

  He exhaled. Looks like higher-ranked Awakened need… extra work.

  Adam placed his hands on both bodies again. Darkness surged, swallowing them whole. This time, he didn’t let up until the corruption consumed them completely.

  “System, establish a connection.”

  [Establishing Connection to Omen…]

  The corpses spasmed violently.

  C’mon. It has to work. I’m not getting corpses like these again anytime soon.

  [Connection Successfully Established.]

  [Familiars Successfully Created!]

  Adam grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

  Two translucent status windows flickered above the corpses.

  Name: None

  Race: Familiar

  Class: Berserker

  Omen Rank: Unranked Demonkin

  Name: None

  Race: Familiar

  Class: Warrior

  Omen Rank: Unranked Demonkin

  “Berserker?” he chuckled. Fitting for the Salamander King. Gallien becoming a Warrior barely surprised him.

  Both Familiars rose. The mutated salamander wagged its spiked tail, lowering its head. The later, Gallien, knelt on one knee.

  They’re not as strong as they were alive, but they’re stronger than everything else I have.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He dismissed Illusion Inducement and recalled the two scouting Familiars.

  “Since you two are my strongest, it’d be weird if you didn’t have names, right?” He laughed at himself. “Whatever.”

  He pointed at the hulking salamander. “You’re Salma.” Then at the kneeling Warrior. “You’re Nokum.”

  [Are you sure you want to name Familiars?]

  [Yes!] [No!]

  The alert appeared silently.

  Why does it feel like it’s warning me I’m doing something stupid?

  Adam rubbed his ear, staring at the message.

  “Hey, demon,” he muttered. “Am I going to regret this?”

  Silence.

  Tch. That asshole only shows up when he wants me to slaughter someone. Useless freeloader.

  He clicked [Yes!].

  [Familiars Successfully Named!]

  “…That’s it?” He snorted at the anticlimax, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

  It seems I was being overly sensitive.

  Adam exhaled and shifted his attention to the E-rank Familiars loitering behind him.

  “Should I name the others too?” he muttered.

  With a thought, he summoned the remaining Familiars from his inventory. They manifested and immediately dropped to one knee, their darkened bodies bent in obedience. Adam stood at their center—an unintentional monarch of corpses—like some sovereign of death tasked with delivering ruin to the mortal world.

  They all look the same… and there’s no way in hell I’m remembering all their names.

  He sighed. “I should just send them back to the—huh?”

  The ground trembled beneath him. Salma and Nokum, the two newly created and named Familiars, convulsed violently. Waves of deep red and obsidian black pulsed through their bodies as if something ancient were awakening inside them.

  Adam stepped back.

  A new series of notifications rippled across his vision.

  [You have given names to beings of Omen origins!]

  [You have corrupted a Blessed Being!]

  [You have infringed upon The Omen Order!]

  [The Omen has recognized your existence!]

  [Connection to Omen has strengthened!]

  [The Omen has bestowed a reward upon you!]

  [Familiars Successfully Strengthened!]

  Name: Salma

  Omen Rank: Demonkin (Disaster)

  Name: Nokum

  Omen Rank: Demonkin (Disaster)

  Name: None

  Quantity: Six

  Race: Familiar

  Class: None

  Omen Rank: Unranked Demonkin

  Adam’s gaze darted between the notifications and his transforming Familiars. His attention lingered on Salma and Nokum.

  Salma’s hulking frame swelled further, new spikes erupting along its spine and limbs. The tip of its tail warped into a spiked mace, and vents of molten heat opened beneath its arms and along its neck.

  Nokum’s body, by contrast, refined itself: sleeker, elongated, more humanoid, like a warrior sharpened into a weapon.

  A thunderous whip-crack tore across the sky.

  Adam’s head snapped upward. “What’s going on?”

  Above Valar, the clouds churned into a massive dark vortex. Purple and crimson lightning raged within the eye, and something—something enormous and ominous—was descending.

  “You do not want to be here when that thing arrives,” the demonic voice snapped, its usual arrogance stripped away. “Run—now! Even if your tendons tear, do. not. stop.”

  For the first time, Adam sensed real fear in the demon’s tone. It chilled him more than the sky did.

  He recalled the Familiars with a thought and bolted toward the city, sprinting with every ounce of strength he had.

  Twenty minutes later

  A blue portal opened within the oak grove.

  A figure stepped out.

  He wore a crisp, fully buttoned shirt and an elegant tie. Over it, a fitted vest with a deep V-line that aligned perfectly with his tailored jacket. The jacket’s windowpane pattern radiated understated authority, its six buttons arranged in a double-breasted design. His trousers matched the jacket but bore a subtler pattern. Polished shoes, a sleek belt, a scarf, a top hat, and an ornate cane completed the ensemble.

  “Strange… I was told the culprit would be here. Yet I see no one.”

  His voice was smooth, baritone, impossibly refined, belonged in royal halls where only kings and queens could afford such luxury.

  He stepped beneath an oak tree, resting lightly on his cane. Behind him, the blue portal shimmered.

  “This is unfortunate. Lord Jolran will not be pleased. Oh? It seems they’ve detected my presence. Time to leave.”

  Without another word, he strode toward the portal, one hand on his cane and the other tucked casually into his pocket.

  The portal’s light slid across his features, revealing a face that would freeze even seasoned Awakened: not flesh, not skin—only a polished black skull beneath the gentleman’s flawless attire. An elegant corpse masquerading as nobility.

  He disappeared into the portal. It shrank, then vanished completely.

  But the phenomenon swirling above Valar persisted.

  Far from the oak grove, Adam pushed through the awe-struck crowd flooding Valar’s streets. Despite his haggard appearance, and the tattered robes clinging to him, no one spared him a glance. Their attention was fixed entirely on the sky.

  He fought his way forward, progress slowed to a crawl by the sheer density of bodies. It was nearly impossible to move without stepping on someone’s heel. Armed men and women struggled to control the surging masses, their voices barely cutting through the rising panic.

  It seems they’ve mobilized the military.

  Adam paused, eyes drawn upward to the distortion swelling across the heavens.

  But what could they possibly do against that?

  “Greetings in the name of Tess!” a man in an ash-colored uniform shouted into a portable speaker. “Please evacuate in an orderly manner! Follow the instructions of the guild members. Your safety is our priority. We will all be saved in the name of Tess!”

  Tess?

  Adam scanned the crowd. Many bowed their heads, tracing religious gestures over their chests; a few dropped to their knees in fervent prayer. He knew Targarth was a deeply religious nation, but he’d never bothered to learn which deity they followed.

  A sudden pulse of brilliant purple lit the sky. Adam reflexively tilted his head back.

  His jaw slackened as the vortex widened. Around him, a thunder of thuds rang out—by the time he looked down again, everyone was kneeling. Even the soldiers and guild members were bowed, despair carved into their faces.

  Adam lifted his gaze once more. Through the swirling storm, the colossal base of a tower emerged, glistening like an amethyst the size of a mountain, wide enough to cover several hectares. Lightning licked its facets as turbulent winds tore through the city.

  “I-It’s a G-Grand Dungeon…” an elderly man whispered, trembling on all fours.

  Adam stared, breath tight, unable to wrench his eyes away from the descending structure.

  “Move, Adam!” the demonic voice snapped. “We are not out of danger yet. We must leave this country as soon as possible!”

  He swallowed hard. Judging by the tower’s trajectory, it would land directly atop the Valar Pits.

  He tore his gaze away from the phenomenon. Then, without hesitation, his form blurred and vanished into the panicking crowd.