The Damned Demon

Edward rose abruptly from his chair, concern flickering across his features. “Aira, what nonsense is this? Who put these dangerous ideas in your head? This isn’t you.”

“No one,” she snapped harshly, her voice echoing with a bitter certainty born from countless lifetimes of sorrow and pain, “But it’s time I stop playing by fate’s rules. I have no choice, Father. This is the only way.”

Edward stepped toward her hesitantly, worry and shock evident in his eyes after seeing his little daughter’s shocking change in her behavior and attitude, “My dear daughter… please explain yourself. Why would a child like you even wish to—?”

“I’m not a child anymore, Father,” Aira’s voice was quiet but carried undeniable authority, aged far beyond her appearance. Her hazel eyes stared directly into her father’s, burdened with unimaginable pain and resolve. “You must trust me. Hand over the Radems. This is the only path left to me and you will listen to me if you care about the survival of this world.”

Edward stood frozen for a long moment, taken aback by his daughter’s abrupt and strange intensity. Her gaze—filled with immeasurable darkness, weighted by countless lifetimes—sent a chill crawling down his spine.

Yet feeling this intensity, Edward felt a deep sadness bloom within his chest, worry and confusion swirling in his usually calm eyes. He knelt gently to reach her level, searching her face as if trying to understand what unseen force had transformed his sweet child into someone so cold and intense.

At first he was worried if some demon managed to take over her body but with his abilities, it was easy to sense that it was not true. This was still his daughter. So there could only be one other explanation.

“Aira,” Edward said, his voice thick with concern, “did you awaken your powers as an Oracle? Did you…see visions?” It was the only explanation that made any sense to him—visions that could distort a child’s soul to this extent.

But instead of flinching or looking uncertain, Aira met his gaze head-on, her expression composed, unwavering, and strangely unsettling for a child her age.

“If that will convince you to help me,” she said calmly, her voice mature far beyond her years, “then yes, Father, I have long since awakened as an Oracle. But you misunderstand. I haven’t merely seen visions—I have experienced them, countless lifetimes worth.” Her voice dropped, gaining an eerie gravity that seemed to echo far beyond the room. “I am older now than the entirety of our family history. So listen carefully, Father. Listen to everything I say, no matter how absurd or impossible it may seem to you.”

Edward stared at her, momentarily stunned into silence. A hardened warrior and a respected veteran of the Guardian Council, he was not a man easily shaken. But looking into his daughter’s eyes—once innocent and bright, now filled with such unworldly darkness and resolve—he felt an unease he’d never known before.

He took a shaky breath, choosing his next words with great care. “Aira,” he began quietly, voice tinged with hesitation, “are you absolutely certain about this? Doing this at such a young age, pushing yourself so drastically… Can you not wait until you’ve grown some more, until you have gained more strength?”

But Aira shook her head resolutely, her small frame radiating fierce determination. “No,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. “There isn’t enough time. I must start now—early enough that neither angel nor devil would dare stand in my way.”

Edward held his breath, his eyes searching hers, desperately trying to fathom what horrors she might have endured to drive her to such an extreme and to even talk about the sacred angels in such a way. He could only pray they not take offense from his little child’s words.

Deep worry etched itself into his features, and after a long, tense pause, he finally exhaled, his shoulders dropping in defeat. He knew things would only become worse if he stopped her and as per their ancestors, the words of the Oracle were meant to be followed without question no matter how wrong or right it sounds.

“Alright,” he murmured softly, resignation evident in his voice. “I will give them all to you, Aira. But, as your father, I must warn you—trying to absorb so many Radems, especially at such a young age, can lead to death. Even if you somehow survive, your mana circuit could overload, your body might distort, and consequences even I can’t imagine could unfold. Are you truly prepared for that?”

Asher, still forced to watch helplessly, agreed fervently with Edward, desperately wishing he could shout at her to reconsider, to stop this madness. But he was trapped, voiceless and powerless, condemned only to witness this relentless tragedy unfold.

Yet Aira’s expression remained unshakable, almost frighteningly resolute. “I won’t die,” she said grimly. “But promise me one thing—keep a close eye on the new boy named Andrei. Do not let him train or face danger. Protect him always, at least until I return. And I need you to build an underground chamber beneath a specific location, prepared exactly as I instruct. Can you do that, Father?”

Edward’s brows knitted deeply in confusion, questions swirling in his eyes, but he finally sighed and nodded gravely, accepting his daughter’s unsettling demands. “Alright, Aira. I’ll do as you ask.”

The scene shifted, and Asher watched, powerless, as a young Aira entered a secluded, large room filled with dozens upon dozens of radiant stones, amulets, rings—each a Radem pulsating with otherworldly power, their glow almost blinding.

She sat cross-legged, taking one in her hand as determination hardened her features. “Just wait for me, Cedric,” she whispered softly, eyes glittering with resolve and anguish. “This time, nothing, not even fate itself, will stand in our way.”

“Aira…” Asher murmured helplessly, his heart aching with an indescribable agony as he watched her begin the painful process.

Days turned into weeks, months into years, yet Aira never rested. Her young body convulsed and shuddered, nearly destroyed countless times by the intense energies flooding her small frame, yet she stubbornly pressed forward, each near-death experience pushing her deeper into obsession.

When her family’s Radems were finally exhausted, she didn’t hesitate. She skillfully stole from weaker Elite families, slipping in and out like a shadow. When even those weren’t enough, she boldly infiltrated the strongest Elite families, including the Sterling and Hart Family, shockingly ruthless in her desperation.

Asher watched in mute horror as she, without hesitation, slew innocent guards, Hunters and servants who stood in her way. Her once-kind eyes didn’t even flicker with remorse, so consumed was she by her obsession.

Asher’s heart twisted painfully—this wasn’t the Aira he remembered. This wasn’t the kind and compassionate girl who had stood by him. Yet, he knew the agonizing truth—he was the reason for this dark transformation.

With every Radem she absorbed, her powers soared dramatically. But the physical cost was severe: strange radiant white outgrowths erupted violently from her young body, twisting her once-elegant appearance into something monstrous and inhuman.

By the age of eighteen, her beauty had been eclipsed by a terrifying transformation. Her body was riddled with radiant white spikes protruding grotesquely from her shoulders, legs, and arms. Veins of brilliant yet sickly white ran across her face and torso like cruel lightning, and her eyes glowed constantly, luminous white with a darkness behind them—intense and terrifying. She had become immensely powerful, reaching the Peak Omega Rank, equivalent to a Peak Soul Tyrant!

If she had actually absorbed the Radems without rushing through, she could have become one at an even earlier age. But she was too lost in her quest to save him that she didn’t even care about herself or the things she did to get here.

Yet still she hungered, desperately craving more power. But there were no more Radems to take in the entire world, leaving her ravenous and dissatisfied as she had yet to achieve the strength she wanted.

The scene shifted abruptly again, and Asher’s heart stopped cold.

A teenage Cedric was shackled, terrified, to the wall of a subterranean bunker, built strong enough to withstand even cosmic cataclysms. He was pale, his eyes wide with fear as Aira stood silently before him, radiant veins pulsating ominously on her distorted form.

His voice broke, panicked and bewildered. “Why…why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you, Young Miss?! Please, I’ve always been—!”

Aira stared down at him, expression unreadable, her altered face devoid of the compassion she’d once shown him. Instead, her eerie eyes regarded him coldly, assessing.

Asher’s soul shuddered in disbelief. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be her.

“Aira…” he whispered, helpless anguish wrenching his heart. But she could not hear him. This teenage Cedric never even got to know Aira since she never met him and was in seclusion all these years.

He could only imagine how scared and shocked HE must be feeling to see the mysterious and previously absent young miss of such a powerful Elite family suddenly acting like this and with such intimidating appearance. From Cedric’s perspective, it made her seem more like a demon than demons themselves.

Aira took a slow, deliberate step forward, her radiant eyes fixed unwaveringly on Cedric, a dark intent shining within their depths.

“Forgive me, Cedric,” she said softly, her voice chillingly devoid of regret, “I never intended it to be like this. But I must protect you, even from yourself or the actions you might unwittingly take. And this time… nothing will take you away from me.”

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