"Master… master… do you copy? Master…"

Asher heard a voice echo in his mind the moment he stepped into Eldoria with Rose by his side.

"I'm a little busy, Rex. What is it? Make it quick," he replied in thought.

"You need to come home. Now."

"Why? Trouble?"

"No! I mean… yes—maybe! Just come see for yourself!" Rex's voice cracked, uncertain, almost panicked.

Asher sighed. "If you can handle it, then handle it. I'm on a mission with Rose. I can't come home. Deal with it. Bye."

"Wait—wai—"

He cut off his telepathy with his demon hound and turned to Rose, who looked at him with concern on her face.

"Something wrong?"

"Rex says I should rush home." He rubbed at his temple. "But if it was serious, he wouldn't sound like that. I'll deal with it later."

If only he could use telepathy with anyone he wanted—he could've told Rin and Tama to watch over his family while he was away! But well, it's not like he'd be going far. Just giving the Duke a visit. Eldoria was a small kingdom, after all.

With that, he and Rose strode through the always-busy capital, the air rich with the smell of food wafting from every corner, the aroma delicious and tempting.

Normally, Rose would've wandered, snatching food from vendors with unapologetic delight. Now, she didn't even glance sideways, her eyes fixed forward, lips a thin line. Her silence only proved how pissed she really was.

He moved closer to her until, finally, the Duke's mansion came into view. They stopped before the guarded gates.

"I could use invisibility to fly inside undetected and catch him by surprise. Besides, his guards are hot-headed—they won't let us in without an appointment or something," Asher whispered to Rose.

She scoffed from their hiding spot, eyeing the guards. Then she muttered an ancient spell, and a few seconds later, the guards collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

"Pathetic humans," she muttered, standing.

"Please tell me you didn't kill them," Asher said.

"No. Just cursed them to sleep for the next five days. They won't trouble us. Let's get going!"

Demon of curses, huh? At least she didn't kill on a whim, like most demons would. Her heart was gold. With her by his side, he felt a renewed sense of confidence. He wouldn't even fear facing "Number One" again.

They strode openly to the gates. Passersby instinctively averted their eyes, sensing the suffocating aura radiating off Rose.

Inside, the mansion was eerily silent. No guards. No maids. Nothing.

"This place feels deserted," Rose muttered as she stepped into the wide open doors of the mansion.

Asher followed, scalpels drawn in each hand, ready for anything. His footsteps were quiet on the marble floor as his eyes swept the room. A single women's shoe lay abandoned in the sitting room. Near the coffee table, a tray lay overturned, a mug shattered beside it. He crouched and touched the pieces—the mug was still warm. Tea. Not even an hour old.

What the hell was going on here?

Rose sniffed the air. "I smell… blood."

Asher's eyes snapped to her. Then, a faint scream came from down the corridor.

He instantly activated his system's terrain scan, pinpointing a room deep within the mansion.

"Let's move," he muttered.

The farther they went, the stronger the scent became. Rose wrinkled her nose—human air made every smell sharper, unlike the demon realm's miasma that dulled everything, especially scent.

They reached a massive red metal door bound with heavy chains—but unlocked.

Asher took a deep breath and nodded at Rose. He pressed his palm to the door, channeled fire into it until it glowed, then switched to moisture. Steam built up rapidly, and—BOOM!—the door exploded inward. Something inside shattered, followed by a loud thud and the rush of water.

He stood ready, blades up, as the steam began to clear.

"I've been waiting…" came a calm, familiar voice. "Asher Reynolds… and the demon lord herself."

Asher's breath caught. Rose's eyes narrowed.

When the mist cleared, they saw him—Duke Martinsville, seated casually in an office chair, back turned, peeling an apple with a bloodied knife. He hadn't even looked at them.

"You're no ordinary human," Rose said, eyes narrowing. "Are you even human?"

He didn't answer. Only continued peeling.

"Are you the one who slaughtered Tanya?" Her voice dropped to a growl. "Who dragged corpses from my realm?"

Still, Martinsville didn't answer, or look bothered.

Asher, meanwhile, froze for another reason entirely.

The door's blast had shattered a huge glass tube filled with greenish fluid. What spilled out writhed on the floor—a grotesque pile of flesh, twitching unnaturally. Row after row of similar tubes lined the chamber, some holding shapeless meat, others… humans, and some things that looked like a combination of many species. Hairless, numbered, and suspended in the fluid.

And at Martinsville's feet lay the corpse of a maid, fresh blood pooling beneath her body, staining her uniform.

Had he just killed his own staff?

Martinsville finally spoke, still calm.

"And if I told you I've been experimenting on demon bodies… what would you do about it, demon king?"

Rose's whip of curses hissed into existence on her right hand, its serpent head lashing forward before he finished speaking. It struck the Duke's throat, coiling around his mouth and neck, constricting with every heartbeat.

Her free hand moved, making signs as she muttered under her breath. The serpent-head bit into Martinsville's neck—black veins spread across his skin, pulsing violently.

"You've killed my vessel," the same calm voice echoed, not from the Duke, but now from the twitching pile of flesh on the floor.

Rose and Asher turned to it, eyes narrowing.

"Vessel?" Asher muttered.

"It served me long enough," the voice replied. "Not bad, really. But I've found something far better. Stronger. A superior temporary vessel."

WHIP!

Rose's curse lashed the pile. It convulsed and shrieked, a grotesque sound that clawed at their ears, then fell silent.

A chuckle drifted from one of the tubes.

"Short-tempered, aren't you… Demon Lord?"

The words hit like a knife. He knew what Rose was. The Duke was just a shell. Asher's gut tightened. They weren't fighting a man, they were facing something far beyond them.

Temporary vessel… what the hell did he mean? Who could—

"And you, Asher Reynolds…" the voice coiled low and mocking. "My ultimate vessel. I could take you now… but your body's still weak. Your spirit—pathetic."

Asher's jaw tightened.

"You couldn't withstand the souls I'll pour into you. Not yet. But soon… I'll forge you into the masterpiece I've dreamed of for centuries. Perhaps I should start by letting Draegonoth hatch in your little wife… let him tear through her from the inside. Would that make you strong enough?"

"You bastard!" Asher snarled. "Who the hell are you?! How do you know this much?!"

CRACK!

Rose's whip shredded the tubes, splitting the grotesque forms inside.

Laughter rolled through the room, cold and unhurried.

"Who am I? Kid… you otherworlders always ask too many questions. That's why my next vessel will be one of you. A man who changed the world. Genzai Innovations. Ring any bells?"

Asher's breath caught. The genius behind Phantom Chariots… the tech revolutionizing entire nations? If this thing possessed him, it would gain power and a lot of influence!

"I'm not letting you escape!" Asher growled, locking on to the presence. He hurled a scalpel, it cut the air like lightning, but the body hosting the voice jerked violently—then went still.

The voice reemerged from another body.

"Save your rage. Go home, otherworlder. Meet the little masterpiece I've sent you. I'm sure you'll… enjoy it."

Asher froze. Home.

A new body stirred—a warped fusion of lizard and bat, its slick wings unfurling.

"Goodbye, Asher Reynolds," the voice purred. "Get stronger. I'll be waiting. My ultimate vessel."

It burst upward, and sprinted out to the window. Rose's whip struck, but the creature slipped past, vanishing into the skies beyond.

Asher's entire being screamed to chase it, to tear it apart, but one thought consumed him.

Home.

He had to get back. Now.

TBC

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