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Eventually, though, he ended up drifting off.

When he awoke, Zeth went to do upkeep around his base, and when he finished that, immediately got to work on an Empowerment Ritual. After the one he’d done on the previous day, this one would take a whopping twelve and a half hours to draw, but it looked like, if he drew and completed one and then instantly moved on to creating a Demonic Covenant circle, he’d have just enough time to finish as the cover of night fell over town. From there, he’d set up his demon with as strict a set of rules as he possibly could, and head out.

Empowerment Ritual was getting to the point, now, that even with Vile Focus operating at full effect, it still felt like it was taking forever. Twelve hours was the majority of his waking time in a day; it wasn’t really possible to skip past that and not feel a thing. He was even beginning to feel that signature mental exhaustion of overspending his mana once again, after not having felt much of it ever since he’d left the cave. Ritual Circle Mastery—now Ritual Nexus Mastery—was supposed to protect him from that feeling, but he supposed it only did so much; it seemed like the intense time requirement of Empowerment Ritual was beginning to catch up to him.

But that was all the more reason to hurry and Level up as much as he could, so he could push his Stats higher and be as powerful as possible when heading into the unknown situation that would be his attempt to kill Garon.

[Ritual Nexus Mastery’s Rank has increased to 11.

+1 Skill Point. You have 1 Skill Point.]

Eventually, he finally completed the ritual, collapsing onto the stone floor the moment he drew the final line on the ground. But he didn’t have time for rest. After taking that moment to reorient himself, Zeth went and grabbed a container of blood, opened it up, and began pouring it out, where the liquid sank into the ground as usual.

The sacrifice percentage filled and filled, and just as the container bottomed out, Zeth got a couple notifications.

[Otherworldly Excellence’s Rank has increased to 2.

+5 Dexterity. You have 15 Dexterity.

+1 Skill Point. You have 2 Skill Points.]

[Blood Magus’s Level has increased to 8.

+3 Endurance. Your Endurance is 30.

+5 Dexterity. Your Dexterity is 20.

+1 Awareness. Your Awareness is 8.

+2 Poise. Your Poise is 16.

+7 Shaping. Your Shaping is 56.

+3 Skill Points. You have 5 Skill Points.]

Zeth set the now empty container on the ground next to him. With that one gone, and the one he’d used for the previous Level also nearing empty, he was quickly running lower and lower on his once plentiful stores of blood—especially now that he hadn’t been killing prisoners to replenish those stores for some time.

He only had three Wicked thralls left—though, now that he was about to summon another demon, that number was likely going to decrease further—so they represented a bit more. Still, it’d be nice to get something sustainable going.

Just as an idea began to form itself, Zeth’s thoughts were interrupted by another notification.

[Requirement fulfilled: Blood Magus Level 8.

You have unlocked Blood Magus Skill: Sanguine Renewal.]

He shook his head. Right. Stay focused. Let’s see what this Skill is, then move on to demon summoning.

[Sanguine Renewal - Cost: 15 Skill Points

When you are injured, as long as your body contains a healthy amount of blood, automatically consumes 1% of that blood per second to rapidly recover those injuries, prioritizing life-threatening ones first. The rate at which your body is healed depends on your normal healing rate and the amount of blood being consumed, and is increased by 1% per point you have in the Endurance Stat, plus an additional 1% per point you have in the Shaping Stat.]

Zeth raised his eyebrows reading over the text. That was certainly interesting—a healing Skill that would automatically recover his wounds, but at the cost of consuming his blood. Which, of course, if he was wounded, blood would likely be coming at a premium. This one didn’t specifically say at what rate his injuries would be closed up, but it seemed like it’d be pretty fast, the way the Skill was worded—presumably fast enough that he could get cut open during a fight, and then over the course of that fight his blood would be consumed and the cut would be healed.

And this Skill specifically seemed like it’d work extremely favorably with two others. First, considering that the rate of this Skill’s healing would depend on his normal healing rate, it seemed like Self-Destruction boosting that healing rate would be an insane boost in power. Currently, Self-Destruction quadrupled his healing rate, so that meant this Skill would be four times as effective. And if it only consumed a fixed amount of blood per second, that meant four times the number of wounds it’d be able to heal before his store of blood ran out—an amount that would increase as he found ways to Rank up Self-Destruction.

And secondly, this Skill also seemed to synergize intentionally well with the one he’d gotten only a single Level earlier—Vascular Hypertension. That Skill increased the maximum amount of blood he’d be able to carry within his body, which meant more blood that could be expended before he ran out. And, since Sanguine Renewal took a consistent one percent of his blood per second and grew more powerful the greater raw amount of blood was being consumed, having a larger amount of blood in his system would be a direct increase in the Skill’s effectiveness, as well.

This one seemed like an incredible find. It was relatively expensive, at fifteen Skill Points—that was as much as Demonic Covenant had cost—but seemed more than worth it. Especially when considering the fact that he had so many methods to grow its power not just through his Skills, but also with his natural Stat growth per Level.

Regardless, it was currently outside his ability to afford, so he’d figure out what order to purchase all these Skills he was unlocking later. Right now, he had business.

It was time to summon a demon.

He took a deep breath. This would not be a repeat of the last time. He wouldn’t let it kill more people or destroy more of his town. There was only one person dying tonight, and it was Garon. He would treat this thing as an enemy through and through; he would treat it as the monster it was.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Running those promises through his mind over and over, he knelt on the ground and began drawing.

When he was finished going through the motions of drawing out his ritual circle, Zeth went to his storage room as usual, pulling down yet another container of blood. He really was going through the stuff faster than he thought he would. Once he returned to the ritual room and stood over the circle, blood in his hands, he opened the container.

But he couldn’t push himself to pour it out. Summoning another one of these things…

He closed his eyes and steeled his nerves. No. That disaster had happened because he let it happen. He hadn’t been strict enough, and allowed himself to be tricked. That would not happen this time. He would stay constantly vigilant, and would use the demon as a tool. A dangerous tool—a tool that had to be respected—but a tool. He would use it for its purpose, and then discard it once he was finished. There was no other way of dealing with their species.

With a deep breath, he tipped the container over, allowing blood to flow out and sink into the floor in the center of the eight-foot-wide circle.

Once it had accepted the full sacrifice required, he set the container down, standing atop the active circle. Time to summon this thing.

He placed his hands on the glowing lines of the ritual circle and focused inward on selecting a location.

Zeth was reminded of the previous demon he’d summoned—how that one had been a soldier on a battlefield, and how that battle was likely to have ended around now. He was still curious about how that had gone, so if the winning side was still there to pick up the pieces, perhaps he could ask about it. With no other significant options for where to put down his beacon, he simply decided to put it down in that same place, in the middle of the battlefield.

The moment he did, he got a System notification.

[Demonic Covenant’s Rank has increased to 5.

+1 Skill Point. You have 6 Skill Points.]

He blinked as the ritual surged to life and the warm glow of the summoning began filling the room.

Wait, really? It was really that quick? It hadn’t even taken a single second for a demon to answer the call; normally, it would take at least a minute or two. Even the shortest response he’d ever seen had been twenty, thirty seconds. Did he happen to just place it right down on top of a demon? But surely they’d have to at least take some time to think about whether they wanted to answer the call, right?

As he backed away from the circle, staring curiously at the intensifying glow, he got another unexpected notification.

[Requirement fulfilled: Demonic Covenant Rank 5.

You have unlocked Blood Magus Skill: Friend of the Unhallowed.]

Oh, he got an extra Skill for bringing Demonic Covenant to Rank five. That name, though—Friend of the Unhallowed…He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of it. Still, it was always nice to get these extra Skills just for Ranking up his already existing ones. The extra options were always nice, considering he didn’t have to Level up in order to—

[Requirements fulfilled: Demonic Covenant Rank 5, Empowerment Ritual Rank 5.

You have unlocked Blood Magus Skill: Empowered Summon.]

Woah, he thought. Two Skills from a single Rank-up. Pretty interesting. Empowered Summon sounded like it’d be—

[Requirements fulfilled: Demonic Covenant Rank 5, Hellfire Ritual Rank 5.

You have unlocked Blood Magus Skill: Unstable Anatomy.]

Zeth stared at the third Skill unlock notification. This was getting ridiculous. Just how many new Skills would this single ritual give him?

He was almost thankful when no more came through. Seeing so many notifications pop up unexpectedly almost made him uneasy. Still, with so many appearing, at least one of them would have to be pretty good, right? If not all three. His nervousness from the surprise quickly morphed into excited anticipation to see what he’d just gotten.

Seeing what all of those new Skills did would have to wait, though. His demon was almost here.

As the glow reached its crescendo, fire erupted in the air above the ritual circle, and then quickly dissipated. And in its place stood a demon.

But this one looked different from the rest he’d seen.

The broadest strokes were the same. Like all demons, her body rippled with muscle—not so much that she looked unnatural, but enough that Zeth found his eyes being drawn to her defined biceps and abs. And she had the same red-tinted skin and black horns protruding from her skull that all demons did, as well.

No, what made her different were the details. All demons had differently-shaped horns. Some would curl in a circular fashion like a ram’s, others went straight upward, and others pushed forward for an inch or two, only to curve around and point straight back. This demon, though, had horns that split. They branched out, like a hateful tree with spiked branches, eager to stab any bird that dared land on its bark. And unlike the natural, bony, slightly dirty-looking substance that made up other demons’ horns, hers looked almost…shiny. Like someone had spent hours polishing them that very morning. The hair that flowed down her head was the same color as her horns, a void black that consumed all light that touched it.

Her hardened face looked like every muscle it contained was under strict control, as if she had spent years practicing facial expressions in a mirror. Currently, they were arranged to show cold indifference—that same sneer Zeth had become intimately familiar with after the number of summonings he’d performed. Really, taking any of the individual parts of her face one at a time, they almost looked cute. Pouty lips, soft eyes with dark irises, a button nose. But when put together, she seemed to perfectly—almost intentionally so—portray the face of evil.

And, of course, there was her skin. Zeth’s mind was brought back to the third demon he’d summoned—the one with the darker skin. That one had inflicted him with the most intense fear he’d felt yet, and when he asked why, the demon had said that, effectively, the stronger the demon was, the stronger the fear would be. And an easy way to determine a demon’s strength was by looking at the shade of their skin. As their skin grew darker with each hour they spent under their murderous sun, a darker color would naturally mean a more powerful specimen.

And this demon had the darkest, richest red skin Zeth had ever seen. A truer color than even his own blood.

It was all of these aspects—that flawless garnet skin, the intimidating expression signature of demonkind that was ironically made up of angelic features, the polished black horns branching out with spear-like tips, like they had been sculpted intentionally to look as fatal as possible, and the form that looked like she was capable of ripping a human apart with her bare hands and had done so countless times already. All of these aspects put together were what made her look so different. They were what made her look so striking, like her form was being seared into Zeth’s mind with every second he looked at her.

Then, the wave of fear hit.

[Influence check failed.]

Instantly, Zeth fell to the ground. It wasn’t a wave of fear—it was a tsunami. It was a meteor strike of fear, annihilating his entire world. Any idea regarding this monster left his mind, replaced exclusively with a single repeating word: Run.

He was back in the state of the first time he’d ever summoned one of these things, his mind completely overwhelmed by the urge to get as far away from this thing—this horrifying, unnatural, heinous thing—as possible. Not a single thought existed in his brain other than those of figuring out how he could survive the next five seconds.

Zeth tried to control his breathing. He tried to keep his heart from seizing up. He tried to keep his mind from overheating and killing him on the spot. In the back of his mind, he knew he was acting irrationally, but he couldn’t help trying to end the unbearable mental agony that was this feeling of intense terror.

As he kicked back, away from the demon in the ritual circle, she turned to look at him, eyes meeting his. Her expression of cold indifference had been morphed by his overanxious mind into one of murderous rage. And in that moment, Zeth realized that his jaw was shivering so much, he couldn’t get the words ‘don’t move’ out of his mouth. He couldn’t even command her not to kill him.

Was this really it? Was this how he was going to die?

But she didn’t charge forward and tear him to shreds. Instead, this demon did something that Zeth had never seen a demon do in his entire time working with them. This demon did something completely incongruous with the image of her that the fear had been spending so much effort building up.

She got down on her knees, head bowed and hands clasped together, and begged, “Please, please do not unsummon me.”

The strange action loosened the grip her insanely intense fear aura had on his mind, and he felt himself regain control of his mouth. “W-what? A-and don’t hurt me. And don’t leave that circle for now.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to the commands he was giving, staying in the pose that almost resembled one of prayer. “Please, I beg of you. If you unsummon me, I will die. Allow me to stay here for as long as the time limit allows, and I will do whatever you ask.”