Volume 11 : Chapter 7 – SPOKEN LIKE THE DEMON LORD (1)

“He’s the last one.” Elsie muttered, brushing a streak of soot off her cheek as she regrouped with Ken.

She was panting, sweat trailing down her neck. She’d just fought four high-level combat mages back-to-back while Ken provided long-range support.

Ken wiped his brow, grumbling under his breath. The cramped space had limited his ability to use his magic at full capacity. Elsie, on the other hand, had been eager to test her swordsmanship skills.

So, he let Elsie take the lead, focusing instead on covering her blind spots.

“Something on your mind?” Ken asked, noticing the twitch in Elsie’s eye.

She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair—some of it singed—and inspected the scorched edges of her skirt.

“Prince, you think they’ll bill us for this?”

Her gaze swept forward, taking in the complete destruction of what had once been the pristine top floor of the Arcadia Magic Tower—now turned into a battlefield.

Elsie’s boots crunched over shattered glass and smoldering debris. The once-elegant office suite now looked more like a hanging spot for arsonists.

A massive hole gaped in the ceiling, where a long black metal rod jutted through at an angle—like a spear hurled by a god.

Courtesy of Ken’s signature skill—Black Steel Magic.

The rest of the room wasn’t any better. The floor was scorched black, cracked like a volcanic wasteland. Bubbling pools of lava shimmered with heat, distorting the air above them.

Again, courtesy of one of the elders—right before Ken and Elsie had taken him down.

Lining the edge of the devastation stood four crude square bunker-type chambers made of reinforced black steel, each containing one elder—either unconscious or too drained to move. Ken had layered the prison cells with magic-absorption ability, just in case any of them woke up.

Ken blinked, having second thoughts, then took another long look around—at the molten craters bubbling on the floor, the gaping hole in the ceiling, and the four unconscious magical dignitaries currently cooling off inside steel prison pods.

“…Honestly? I don’t know. But wasn’t it the Vice Master who lobbed them at us first?”

Before either could elaborate on who, exactly, was footing the bill for structural annihilation, a violent surge of plasma screamed through the air.

“MOVE!” Ken shouted.

Instinct kicked in.

Ken threw up a black steel barrier—but the plasma tore through half of it like tissue paper, scattering molten shards across the room.

Elsie dove to the side, tucking into a roll behind what remained of a half-melted circular pillar— which promptly caught fire.

Elsie exhaled sharply, emerging from the flickering shadows cast by the burning remnants of the ruined pillar.

“Alright.” she said, eyes narrowing as she pointed her sword at the zombie elder, “Leave the damage control to me.”

Right now, the elders were in a trance-like state. Their minds dulled, they couldn’t formulate complex spells or coordinate a proper strategy to fight. They relied purely on instinct, casting only the most basic of spells.

But unfortunately, when dealing with elders of the Arcadia Magic Tower, even their basic spells were dangerously potent.

Elsie surged forward, her sword crackling with lightning. She darted past a barrage of plasma fireballs raining from above.

Ken supported her from the rear, raising black metal walls that absorbed the brunt of the larger explosions. The barriers served a dual purpose: shielding Elsie and concealing her approach. The elder, suspended mid-air, struggled to predict her path.

Once the elder lost track of her, Elsie struck. She emerged from his blindside, lightning pulsing from her blade, aiming to paralyze him with a jolt of raw electricity.

But the elder reacted just in time. His body became cloaked in a thick layer of plasma, which absorbed and dispersed the electric charge harmlessly into the air.

Elsie froze, stunned mid-air.

Then her eyes widened as she noticed the elder focusing his magic between his palms. A searing light began to grow at the center.

“Shit.” Elsie muttered, flipping backward through the air to retreat.

A beam of hyper-condensed plasma erupted from the elder’s hands, obliterating everything in its path. The ground beneath it liquefied, leaving a molten scar across the chamber.

Elsie barely kept ahead of it as she hit the ground, performing rapid backflips to evade the melting beam as it scorched a path behind her.

With one final desperate leap, she evaded the tail end of the beam—and collapsed on the floor, landing on her rear, breathing hard.

“That…” she panted, “was way too close.”

Ken appeared beside her, extending a hand. “Your lightning attribute might not be the best match for his plasma magic.” he warned.

“Anything can crumble once you overwhelm them with brute force.” Elsie said, neatly summarizing her life philosophy in one grimly practical sentence.

She took Ken’s hand, pulling herself up, her gaze burning. Elsie then turned up to the ceiling, lightning dancing between her fingers.

“I’m done playing fair. I’ll fill this entire chamber with thunder. Prince—can you make it rain lightning for me?” Elsie asked with a smile far too bright for someone casually requesting the impossible.

“Alright. But be careful.” Ken said, his tone steady.

No matter how reckless her plans seemed, she somehow always made them work. Even now, with her lightning failing earlier, she wore that same wild grin… full of stubborn hope.

That was all the assurance he needed.

Ken nodded and turned toward the massive black metal rod lying idle in the center of the chamber. With a gesture, he altered its magical properties.

The rod already extended upward, piercing through the ceiling and opening a direct path to the darkened sky above.

Elsie’s sword flared with lightning once more, but this time, she didn’t keep it to herself. She directed the current to surge from her blade and into the metal rod.

Tendrils of lightning crawled up its length. The air thickened, crackling with static, as the rod transformed into a colossal conductor.

Then the skies responded.

From above, bolts of lightning lanced downward with a thunderous roar, shaking the entire chamber and filling it with blinding flashes.

Elsie closed her eyes briefly, focusing. She extended her senses, feeling the lightning currents all around her, bending them to her will. The rod now served as a channel—her connection to the storm lightning.

In a burst of power, flickers of lightning—over a hundred times stronger than before—shot through the room, targeting the elder. The sheer volume of lightning energy overwhelmed him, his plasma defenses struggling to diffuse the attacks.

Ken, not missing a beat, conjured several metal platforms mid-air, giving Elsie a path to close in.

Now cloaked entirely in lightning, her silhouette surrounded by raging sparks, Elsie dashed forward. She aimed her sword for a decisive strike, her speed barely traceable to the eye.

The elder’s plasma armor took on an exaggerated form, attempting to neutralize the lightning. But this time, it wasn’t enough.

Elsie’s blow struck with such force that the clash of elements held in a violent stalemate—lightning against plasma, neither yielding.

But the difference now? Elsie’s blade continued to draw power from the storm above. And that meant the balance was about to tip.

“Just go down already!” Elsie shouted, straining with everything she had as lightning surged violently through her blade.

There was no telling who would break first—whether it would be her lightning giving out or the elder’s plasma magic collapsing. However, as the stalemate dragged on, it became clear that Elsie was bearing the brunt of it.

Unlike the elder, who relied on layers of magical shielding, Elsie was enduring the increasing lightning output with her own body—gritting her teeth, muscles screaming under the stress.

The immense flow of lightning was beginning to take its toll on her.

“You can stop, Elsie.” Ken called out, concern growing in his voice. “Don’t push yourself too hard. If it’s too much, let me take over. You’ve already done enough damage.”

But just then, something changed.

A wave of warm, golden light spreading from its center washed across the entire tower. A soft, soothing glow blanketed the space in gentle radiance. As soon as the light touched both Elsie and the elder, a sudden stillness fell.

The elder’s body twitched, then slumped mid-air, rendered unconscious. From his form, a thick black-purple haze began to seep out, writhing as it escaped like smoke under pressure.

Ken’s eyes widened as he noticed the same phenomenon occurring in the bunkers where he had confined the other elders. Streams of that same corrupted haze drifted upward, dissolving harmlessly into the golden dome now enveloping the entire tower.

With the threat neutralized, Ken quickly conjured two sliding platforms—one beneath Elsie, the other under the elder—to guide them gently back to the ground.

Elsie landed with a gasp, blinking in confusion. “What just happened? Why did they all stop? And… what is this dome of light around us? It feels… calming.”

Just as she described, the golden light solidified into a radiant dome above them, covering not just the chamber but the entire Mage Tower and every building connected to it.

Ken stood still for a moment, hand outstretched as he felt the energy around him. “This magic… It’s hers.”

Elsie turned to Ken, startled. “You mean… Alicia? She’s still here?”

For some reason, Elsie was quickly able to narrow down the person just from a gesture, because even in the short time Elsie had been with him, Alicia was the only one who stirred something deeper in him.

Ken nodded slowly, realization dawning in his eyes. “Right. That’s what’s been bothering me all along—the important thing I forgot was that she’s here too.”

◇◇◇

“That’s it, little brother… show him what you’re made of.” Lilliana cheered.

“I know Father is still watching, even if he’s trapped somewhere inside that shell. He’ll come back to us…” Fillia whispered under her breath, her voice trembling with hope.

Because everything Justin was doing now—was part of her plan.

The Grimoire of Hollows always looked down on humans, saw them as weak, disposable, and insignificant. That arrogance was its greatest blind spot.

And that was exactly what Fillia was counting on.

What it didn’t realize—what it refused to consider—was that humans have limits. Even the strongest flame mages.

And that list included their father too.

All flame mages share one fatal weakness: overheating.

Right now, the Tower Master’s body—possessed by the Grimoire—was an enormous mass of fire, a giant furnace cranked to its absolute peak. The Grimoire was unleashing spell after spell, mindlessly hurling fire and producing phantasmal flame beasts.

The more flame spells the Grimoire forced through him to strike Justin, the more heat he built up inside.

But a furnace can only burn so hot for so long.

And the end of an overheating furnace?

It doesn’t just stop. It explodes.

But that wasn’t Fillia’s goal.

If she truly wanted a suicide mission, she could’ve already detonated the entire tower—trapping the Grimoire under thousands of tons of rubble with her most destructive explosion magic.

‘Father, did you let the grimoire take control of you, knowing it may come to this, and contacted us? But this is not right. I am still not ready to part with you. Because that’s not the reason I became strong. Even if it costs me everything, I won’t let you die nor any of my family members… not like this.’ Fillia thought to herself.

The moment was drawing near. Fillia could see it now—the subtle signs.

The flicker in the Tower Master’s stance.

The instability in the fire beasts he conjured.

The slight twitch, like something inside was resisting.

The Grimoire wouldn’t notice it yet. Not until it was too late.

And when it finally did—

That split second of panic. That flicker of realization.

That would be Justin’s opening.

The moment the Grimoire sensed that something was wrong with its host’s body it controlled, it would hesitate. It would try to recalibrate, to fix what it thought was a temporary anomaly.

And in that instant of distraction—

Justin would rip the book free.

That would be their victory.

And now… the final piece was falling into place.

The moment the Grimoire noticed something wrong with the Tower Master’s body—something it couldn’t explain or control—it panicked.

The grimoire hesitated as it could no longer form flames or maintain its host’s barrier.

Justin was quick to notice the opportunity, instantly accelerating—his blazing momentum channeled into a single, explosive final leap.

“You really believed I hadn’t noticed your little scheme?” The voice rang cold with delight. “Fools. I’ve had my ace hidden up my sleeve all along.”

The grimoire shrieked with manic excitement, its aura pulsating with dark energy.

From the ground, a pool of black miasma bubbled up like tar, spreading in serpentine streams. Rising from its depths came out a human pod.

At that very moment, tendrils of flame erupted around it, twisting violently in an attempt to crack it open.

“No…” Justin gasped quickly, recognizing the pod, he stopped his attack midair.

But in his moment of distraction, the grimoire’s dark tendrils lashed out from the miasma pool below him, binding him tightly. They wrapped around his limbs and torso, tightening with crushing force.

“So, this is how it ends…” Justin whispered, his vision blurring. The tendrils tightened, poised to crush him.

But a flash of radiant gold tore through the darkness.

“Justin!” Lilliana cried, diving through the chaos. Her blade, infused with holy light, carved through the miasma with a blinding arc. The tendrils screeched as they were severed, retreating like wounded beasts.

She caught Justin in her arms just before he collapsed, cradling him as she landed beside Fillia.

The trio—Justin, Lilliana, and Fillia—regrouped quickly, barely a moment to breathe.

“Justin, what happened? You had the upper hand!” Fillia asked. Her hands were already glowing with magic, an explosion spell ready to tear through the horde of phantasmal beasts surging toward them.

“No, don’t!” Justin coughed, clutching his chest, his lungs strained from overusing aura. “There’s someone I know in that pod… he’s taken a hostage…”

Fillia halted her casting, wide-eyed. She hadn’t accounted for that. None of them had known—there hadn’t been time to share such crucial information.

“Damn it… what now?” Lilliana muttered, biting her lip.

A sinister laugh echoed through the battlefield. The grimoire’s pages fluttered, releasing waves of cursed energy.

“I’ve finally cornered you.” The grimoire cackled. “If I had known this human meant so much to you, I would have used her as leverage from the beginning. No matter—it’s not too late. I’ll exact my revenge first… by tearing your bodies apart one by one. Then I’ll stitch your remains into becoming my eternal mindless slaves!”

The Grimoire caused the Tower Master’s body to suddenly exude a thick, steaming black fog. As the dark vapors evaporated, it rapidly cooled the core temperature of his body—restoring him and making him ready for use once again.

Recreating a legion of phantasmal flame beasts, they charged forward with flaming jaws gaping and hollow eyes glowing—the battle resumed.

Leaving no other option, Fillia cast a barrier of fire magic, hoping to buy even a few precious seconds.

She gritted her teeth, trying to suppress the dread rising in her chest.

Her mind raced—should she flee and allow the grimoire to escape into the outer world, leading to a calamity? Or should she unleash her most devastating explosion spell, one powerful enough to reduce everything to ash, including the hostage?

Her hands trembled. No... That was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she could bear.

But against the horde of towering phantasmal fire creatures, her barrier wouldn’t hold for long as they continued smashing its wall.

The grimoire’s deafening, maniacal laughter echoed through the chamber like a cruel omen of what was to come.

And then, in that exact moment—something changed.

Soft, subtle, like the gentle tremor of a distant heartbeat.

Something none of them could have expected.

Whether it was a miracle or a new catastrophe… they couldn’t have known.

“Guys… are you feeling what I’m feeling?” Lilliana asked, her voice trembling as she pressed a hand to her chest. Her eyes lifted, sensing something above.

“What are you talking about?” Fillia snapped, her voice tight with frustration. “We don’t have time for—”

But then Fillia felt it too—a sudden surge of overwhelming magical energy. A presence, blazing through the upper ruins of the dungeon, descending rapidly toward them.

Justin gasped, his breath catching in his throat. “How’s that possible? …No one can move that fast in here…”

But they all felt it. In their blood. In their bones. In the way the floor beneath them trembled—not from the raging phantasmal beasts, but something else. Something unstoppable.

The ground shifted. The walls vibrated. Dust and cracks began to spread.

“What’s going on?” Lilliana shrieked.

THUMP.

The beasts paused.

THUMP.

The grimoire stilled, its laughter faltering.

THUMP!

And then—BOOM.

The impenetrable ceiling above them—shattered like glass. Rubble exploded downward in a cascade of dust and debris, crushing several of the flaming phantasmal beasts on impact.

The fire barrier collapsed in the shockwave.

Smoke and ash choked the air.

And when the dust finally cleared, a girl stood in the center of the chaos.

Golden light radiated from her, forming a protective dome that encompassed the entire dungeon floor. Pushing back the darkness, the flames, the black miasma—all of it.

Lilliana, gasping, immediately recognized the nature of the magic. Her eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn’t believe the intensity and purity the light held.

Lilliana finally found the strength to speak. “…”

But her voice was swallowed by the stillness that had overtaken the battlefield.

A pressure unlike anything they had ever felt descended upon the chamber—so profound it seemed to still time itself.

The air shimmered, weightless and crushing all at once, almost paralyzing.

Lillana turned to Justin and Fillia—both paralyzed, eyes wide, breaths caught in their throats. The same question trembled behind their expressions: What… is she?

Then, a voice—calm, almost amused—cut through the silence.

“It’s quite hot in here.” the newcomer remarked.

From the silhouette of the girl, still obscured by the golden haze, she flicked a single finger.

In an instant—whoosh—a wave of frost burst outward in a silent cascade.

The air turned white. The flames vanished. The scorching heat dissipated.

The monstrous phantasmal beasts, roaring moments before, froze mid-charge—transformed into towering sculptures of ice, now glittered beneath the dome of holy light. Their snarling faces captured in glassy death.

She hadn’t even spared the trio a glance.

Without a word, without a pause, the mysterious girl began walking forward. The trio instinctively tried to follow her gaze, to trace her destination.

And then they saw it.

Where the cursed grimoire had floated just moments ago, there now stood a colossal orb of golden light— suspended in the air like a miniature sun. The darkness that had choked the chamber was completely gone, replaced by pure, radiant silence.

The girl with long, flowing white hair continued walking, her footsteps silent and her form gradually dissolving into the golden radiance as she entered the immense orb of light. Her silhouette faded, then vanished completely.

And just like that… she was gone.

◇◇◇

What is happening?

Where did those insolent humans vanish to? I know I was winning… so who dared interfere?

My connection to the tendrils that were keeping the hostage has also been severed.

And what is this—this massive orb of solidified black miasma enclosing me?

I was sealed within a grotesque, pulsating cocoon of darkness—so dense, so noxious, it made my own aura seem like a shadow swallowed by a starless night.

This wasn’t ordinary miasma. It was something more intense… and pure.

I snarled, rage bubbling.

“No prison can hold me!”

Using my host’s body, I summoned a tremendous burst of flame, powerful enough to incinerate a fortress. But when it collided with the wall of miasma, it didn’t even leave a scratch. Not a single scorch mark.

Impossible.

There was no doubt about it—the purity of this miasma far exceeded my own. The thought alone enraged me, insulted me. How dare something exist that surpasses me in the very darkness I command?

My thoughts were interrupted by a voice—soft, almost melodic, and charming.

“Hello? Anyone in here?”

A girl?

I looked down and saw her—a white-haired girl standing calmly within this infernal sphere. Unfamiliar. Human-like... yet not.

Her presence alone sent an involuntary chill down my spine. For the first time in centuries, I felt pressure—from a child?

No… no ordinary human child could step into my domain unscathed. My presence alone brainwashes people into becoming mindless creatures, enslaved to me eternally. So, how is she unaffected?

The girl’s aura radiated with something divine—and wrong. A contradiction that shouldn’t exist.

What... is she?

“Who are you?” I demanded, my voice laced with fury. “How did you get here? And where are those three humans who dared to defy me?!”

She didn’t answer.

“Not willing to speak? Or perhaps... are you mute or too dumb to understand what I am saying? Hahaha….” I sneered. “No matter. You’ll regret ever stepping into my domain.”

My rage boiled over. I still had the Tower Master! The strongest flame wielder in the world as my puppet!

With a single command, I ordered him to unleash hell.

But nothing happened.

Silence.

Then… I saw it shifting my eyeball to the top corner of the cover.

My host’s body... was strung up—suspended by nearly invisible white threads. My strongest puppet, the Tower Master himself, dangled like a lifeless doll. His limbs slack, his mouth slightly open, eyes vacant.

And laced through his flesh were those threads. Barely distinguishable from the air, thin as moonlight strands—woven through his arms, his spine, even his tongue. They shimmered faintly.

But they pierced deep into his flesh, like the strings of a marionette, stealing control from me.

No matter what amount of curse energy I pumped into the Tower Master’s body, he refused to move.

Someone else had stolen him from me.

And then it dawned on me.

The girl. She wasn’t just a visitor. She is the one who had sealed me here… and ripped control from my grasp without lifting a finger.

A shiver jolted up my spine as her blue eyes glimmered, as if I were prey caught in the gaze of a creature not wholly human.

◇◇◇

The moment I leapt from the arcane vault floor of the Magic Tower, there was only one thing on my mind—seizing complete control of the cursed grimoire.

To reach the grimoire in the shortest time possible, I had already taken a bold leap from one of the uppermost floors of the mage tower.

As I fell through the layers of the tower, guided by the coordinates Al had marked for me, I reached for a golden orb—an artifact I had... borrowed from the tower.

It was no ordinary trinket. This orb stabilized and measured the range of magic flowing through it, perfect for large-scale spells.

I hadn’t explored every inch of the Mage Tower yet, and cursed energy was leaking everywhere. I needed something that could purify the entire space in one decisive move.

I couldn’t risk using divine magic, in case someone was able to sense it here. Using light magic at its maximum purity was the safest bet for me.

Channeling my highest form of light magic through the orb, I shaped a glowing dome of purification around me mid-air. As the dome started to grow, it washed over the area, nullifying and erasing the cursed energies spewing from every corner.

The lifeless, cursed mages who had been chasing me even as I fell—suddenly froze, clarity returning to their dulled eyes. But it was not like they would stop falling now.

“This is really turning into a hassle.” I sighed, still plummeting toward the lower levels.

Sure, I was thrilled and eager to get my hands on what was supposedly the greatest cursed tome in the world—but a whole parade of hypnotized mages dropping from the sky wasn’t part of the plan. If they got in my way, it could complicate things.

Without wasting time, I conjured a giant spider web from my custom thread magic. It expanded outward like a net, spanning across the tower’s central shaft. One by one, the entranced mages crashed into the web and stuck, giving me some breathing room.

With another exhale, I turned my focus below. I activated a gravitational spell, compressing the ground beneath me, making it denser and heavier. With that as my anchor, I crushed the layers below me as I accelerated my descent directly toward the source of the curse.

When I finally reached the lowest floor, I landed hard—but steady. The entire chamber was ablaze.

It was spring, yet the heat scorched like midsummer firestorms.

Then I saw it.

Floating before me, spewing black miasma thick enough to choke the light—the Grimoire of the Hollow.

There was no mistaking it.

Its aura felt corrupted. Dense. And alive.

“That’s definitely it.” I whispered, a grin tugging at the corner of my lips.

I could already see traces of a battle lingering in the air.

There were three people huddled in a corner, clearly exhausted, cornered, and under siege by phantasmal creatures conjured from flame magic. There was no time to waste. If I wanted the grimoire, I had to act fast—and decisively.

To ensure the cursed book wouldn’t slip through my fingers, I acted swiftly.

First, I cast the dome of light, bathing the entire area in purifying magic. Simultaneously, I layered the space with [ABSOLUTE ZERO], my ice spell, though toned down to a lower intensity.

Enough to subdue the flame beasts, but not harm the humans.

Next, I had to contain the Grimoire of the Hollow before it made another move.

I couldn’t leave the grimoire exposed to my light magic. Being cursed, it could be damaged—maybe even destroyed—by the purifying effect of my light magic. That wouldn’t do. I needed it intact.

So, I took a different approach.

First, I encased the grimoire in a shell of my own black miasma, suppressing its aura and locking its movement. Then, I wrapped that in a sphere of holy light—concealing it from the three survivors and, more importantly—the light would suppress its curse without destroying it.

Satisfied, I stepped through the orb of light, then deeper into the dense sphere of black miasma I had conjured. There, the Grimoire of Hollows floated before me, already latched onto a host: an elderly man.

But not just any man.

I could feel it instantly that he was a phenomenal flame mage. His body brimming with a rare and powerful fire affinity. Clearly, he was the one who created those meticulous flame beasts.

“I can’t have anyone interfering with my conquest.” I muttered.

Without hesitation, I deployed my threads.

From the core of my black orb, I cast out webs—needle-thin strands that slithered through the air, piercing into the old man's body. They burrowed deep, attaching to his nerves and his magical veins.

A slow-working paralytic poison seeped through each strand.

As a result, no matter how much the grimoire pumped its curse energy into him, no matter how it tried to command its host—it failed.

He couldn’t move, nor cast a single flame.

The grimoire had lost its vessel.

And now... the book was completely vulnerable.

“Who are you?” the grimoire hissed, now truly feeling fear for the first time.

Its defenses were stripped bare. Its puppet had been severed. It was now completely wide open—vulnerable.

“You’re not even a hero.” The grimoire sneered, desperation creeping into its voice. “So why are you interfering? I’m going to ascend and conquer the world! So, tell me, girl—what do you want from me? Revenge? Glory of sealing me away? Or the power to curse someone?”

“You’re strong. I can tell.” it continued, voice shifting into a seductive, oily tone. “I can lend you my power. And then you can have everything you want—riches, kingdoms, slaves. The world will kneel at your feet.”

The grimoire made a proud, maniacal face even with its limited features.

“What do you say? Join me... or stand against me? But know this, for I am the End! The devourer of souls! The black sun that will eclipse fate itself!”

With stars dancing in my eyes, I almost teared up.

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m so glad I worked hard to track you down.” I tilted my head, stepping forward. “You’ll make a wonderful gift for my dad.”

The grimoire pulsed erratically, almost stuttering.

“Gift? ...Gift for your dad?” the grimoire echoed, confused. “Are you out of your DAMN MIND!?”

“You wretched little mortal! I’m offering you the world, and you want to gift me like some birthday trinket?! Are you even listening to me?! You think you’ve won just because you trapped me and took my puppet?”

The grimoire erupted.

“I will erase you from reality!”

My smirk faded slightly as irritation crept in.

And then—out of nowhere—I felt something seize me.

I couldn’t see it. But something had me—an invisible force, lifting me into the air, dragging me toward the grimoire.

“I’ll crush you.” the grimoire howled, its voice echoing with rage.

“Let’s see how long your bravado lasts while I crush your bones and hollow you out. That old man’s body was stiff and frail. But a beautiful girl like you... ha! You’ll be the perfect host. Did you really think I was going to give you my power? Fool.”

The pressure increased. My ribs groaned under the invisible force squeezing tighter and tighter.

But I only smiled.

“Aren’t you putting up way too much of a fuss... for a mere cursed book?”

“You still have the strength to joke?” it laughed darkly. “Even as death inches closer? Good. That means your will is strong. All the better when I break you and turn you into my obedient vessel.”

The cursed grimoire floated closer. Its pages fluttered, glowing with malevolent energy.

Its eyes dilated, swirling with an oily black hue.

―Hallucination magic.

How many times has it been today? Another one desperately trying to shatter my mind from within.

I didn’t flinch.

I met its gaze, my voice a cold whisper.

“I should warn you.” I said softly, my eyes narrowing. “The last idiot who tried to manipulate my mind... it didn’t end up very well for him.”

“How…” he grimoire was surprised to find its curse magic ineffective.

If he was going to use something like invisible hands, he should’ve at least done a better job hiding them.

The distortion in the air was laughably obvious—Al could sense it in an instant.

“You think only you can use cheap magic?” I snapped.

With far bigger, far stronger invisible hands of my own, I grabbed his and tore them apart.

Unfortunately, I used a bit too much force.

The grimoire’s invisible hands exploded, tearing through the space around the grimoire, and releasing a thick surge of black miasma from its core.

“AHHHH!” the grimoire shrieked in agony.

“You’re annoying.” I muttered. “Books are meant to be read—not to run their mouths.”

I cracked my neck, feeling the leftover exhaustion from my earlier battle with the devil.

“I’m already ticked off, and I am in no mood to waste time. Besides, I can’t have you all messed up by playing around with you. You’re supposed to be a gift. Such a pain...”

“Wha—?” the grimoire stammered, still trying to process what was happening.

I didn’t bother explaining.

With a snap, I spun a silken ribbon from my webs and tied it elegantly around the grimoire’s mouth—sealing it shut with a neat, silken bow.

A gift should always be properly wrapped, after all. It’s not as if I simply wanted to keep its mouth shut for little peace’s sake.

From my storage, I pulled out a wooden box—no ordinary box, of course. It was crafted from the remains of a massive wooden club, which had once been a branch of the World Tree. It belonged to the Primordial Goblin King, whom I defeated in the Tathya Labyrinth.

One of my fine creations—from my collection.

Something like this would easily contain the grimoire’s cursed aura. While its mouth was sealed and its power suppressed, I slipped it into the box and shut the lid tight.

“There. All done.” I lifted the box in both hands, admiring it with a satisfied smile.

“Gift acquired.”

I slipped the box back into storage, then calmly stepped out from the orb of light. With a wave of my hand, I dispelled the cursed miasma chamber I had created.

Time to go.

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̄\_(ツ)_/ ̄ SUPPORT ME IN MY WRITING ̄\_(ツ)_/ ̄

To everyone who is reading my novel and loves Alicia on her exciting adventures in this new fantasy world.

Thanks a lot for all your support! It really means a lot to me.

Till now I have published from volume one to volume ten for free and I hope to continue to do so even today. I have put a lot of time and effort into creating a story that I always hope you will enjoy reading and have something to think about.

Keeping the text error free takes a lot of revisions and consumes time, but no work is ever perfect. With your support and reviews I know that I have improved a lot in my writing. I know the initial volumes sometimes could be a mess in my disastrous writing and the current writing still leaves a lot to be desired as the story proceeds and new characters keeps popping up. And I intend to take this challenge head on and improve everyday in this year as well.

You can support my writing by leaving a good review on my book on the platform you are reading.

And even now I am asking for a bit more that if you want to voluntarily support my writing then you can do it now.

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Patreon page Link - https://www.patreon.com/noelelitia

Paypal link - Click Here

Join discord community - https://discord.com/invite/WUGFUxbpbd

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I hope that you keep enjoying my work and the next chapter too proves to be to your liking!

Happy Reading Everyone!!!