Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest

As Adam rushed through the battered columns and the dust cloud, the queen of magic leaned over her throne.

Her eyes gleamed, purple as amethysts, as her slender fingers tapped a steady rhythm on her cheek. A soft, archaic tune—ancient, forbidden, and erased from human memories—pierced the silence as the corner of her scarlet lips rose in a subtle smile.

"Not bad." Her voice echoed with a rare compliment as she observed the flames devouring the dark carpet.

Despite the blast and Adam's departure, they still burned strong, showing no signs of satiety. On the contrary, her smile broadened as she felt they would continue until they engulfed the entire crypt in their fiery appetite.

As she scrutinised Adam's deformed back and dancing hair nearing the third room, she froze them with a dismissive wave of her palm

"Unlike that boy king, you don't content yourself with brute strength alone." Her eyes narrowed to the fragment he clutched. "Mhh. You're also using an artifact but only to hasten your escape instead of relying on it." She tilted her head, a cruel smirk chilling the room. "Almost entranced by its malicious allure, you awoke for the most ludicrously noble reason. Ah, how delightfully amusing."

She let her hand fall, the soft sound reverberating in the oppressive silence.

"Two rooms remain. Come! I'm eager to meet you now that I've seen the pure heart hidden behind those horns, nails, and demonic carapace."

As her words echoed in the crypt's depth, Adam burst into the next room and halted his charge.

Eyes narrowed into wary slits, he scanned his surroundings as vapor swirled out of his mouth with each breath he took. Far from tiredness or intentional, he shuddered at the bitting frost covering the ground and architecture in a sparkling layer.

The tombs, showcasing a distinct style from the ones in the first room, also glistened, painting a dead world of crystal whiteness that disturbed the crypt's dreary atmosphere. No rot or spiderwebs, only the cold seeping through his bones.

His brows twitched at the scene, questions he failed to contain escaping his tense jaws.

"What's this witch doing?" His burning steps sizzled against the ice, smoke rising on his way to a tomb. "Did she open up a path for me? Why?" He shook his head, dismissing the idea as soon as it popped up. "With how mad she sounded, she'd never do that. She also spoke about a test with rules..."

He leaned over the closest tomb, peering under the thick ice before he shuddered. Stumbling back, his fingers tightened around his rising blade and his voice cracked in horror.

"The heck is that?!"

CRASH

As if to answer him, thick leather laces wrapped over pelts and around a veiny forearm burst through the ice. Fragments flew before his widening eyes as a pale arm bulkier than his legs followed.

"GAAAAAAH!"

A shout, powerful, visceral, and scraping, echoed. But it was nothing compared to the soul-chilling scene of hundreds of arms pushing hulking bodies out of their resting place.

Pelts covered their shoulders, leaving their broad chests and arms bare. Below, leather and pelt melded in an ancient kilt, to which strapped axes and blades banged against their hips. Behind their backs, he saw a typical Viking round shield reinforced at the edges and in the middle with frozen metal.

Instantly, he recognised the nightmarish creatures spat by Helheim. He backed a step as their eyes, white as snow, locked on him and muttered their names. "Shit. Draugrs..."

Compared to them, the skeletons didn't hold a candle despite their strong bones, and he knew it. The rising brutes were stronger, faster, more resilient, and better equipped.

His eyes narrowed into chaotic slits as weapons glinted and stomach-churning snarls reverberated.

'But unlike the skeletons, their muscles power their movements instead of disgusting magic.' Dark flames burst on his palms. 'Their insensibility won't matter if I carbonise them before they reach me!'

Acting on his strategy, he squatted low, the cold ground biting his rear.

As he saw them lunge, he channelled his energy. Empowered by the fragment, it erupted like a raging river, finally free from the dam restraining it. The flames blazed brighter than ever, a blinding spectacle reflected by the melting world of ice he stood in.

Simultaneously, Karna's teachings reverberated through his mind.

"Mindless destruction is destruction. But a controlled one? That one deserves to be called a weapon." He exhaled and closed his eyes as heavy footsteps drew closer by the second. "Never forget, Adam: control them better to vaporise your enemies while keeping your allies safe!"

Dark demonic energy swirled out of his eyes as they snapped open. Determination sparkling in them, he clenched his jaws and engaged the rampaging river in a battle for control.

Sweat prickled his skin as the fragment's whispers he had ignored roared in his ears.

"Increase the output! More power, more destruction! Burn them and the world, too. Burn anything divine!"

His lips rose into a disgusted snicker as he condensed his flames further. Against the fragment's malice, he shaped a ball the size of a peach, then two, ten, a hundred.

'Don't tell me what to do when I delivered you the coup de grâce myself in the game. You're just a tool, an item I possessed and got rid of in the past. So, shut up!"

As his defiant roar echoed in his mind, he huffed, his breathing labored and sweat dripping down his nose. Yet, three hundred miniature black stars crackled and hovered around him.

Simultaneously, the first draugrs lunged at him. Their cold weapons reflected the light on his exhausted face as they swung them and rammed their shields at him.

However, his lips twisted into a crooked smirk as he thundered.

"Infernal Stars!"

Enjoy exclusive adventures from empire

The second the leading draugr entered his perimeter, a star flew in his path and...

BOOM

Scalding arcs erupted and rose as the flimsy balance he had created shattered upon contact with the undead. Like a mine, they lightened his enemy in an ocean of chaotic flames.

Transformed into a torch but feeling no pain, the draugr snarled and pressed forward, yet smoke carrying the disgusting stench of burning rose from his skin. Once pale white, it turned into charcoal in a heartbeat.

The other draugrs slowed down and observed their companion drop to his knees before they shattered in a rain of ashes. His arms and torso followed in a terrifying spectacle for creatures of frost until only a darkened skull remained. And it too soon collapsed and drifted into oblivion.