36 Sweet Relief
His teeth bit into the heart's muscly flesh, a gush of blood flooding into his mouth. He grimaced as he chewed. It was soft, yet firm, and ridiculously chewy at the same time, like a stale marshmallow mixed with a burnt steak. Every bite made crimson juices dribble down his chin and chest, getting all over his new clothes.
Its taste wasn't bad, but it wasn't good, either. It was as close to mediocre as it could get without being completely flavorless, but the effort it took to eat was more than enough to make Lokus want to stop. And the texture…
Lokus shuddered as his tongue caught a wayward piece of heart, rubbing up against it and providing the sensation of licking a sponge.
Lokus had eaten the hearts of rabbits and squirrels and the like in his journey from his village to the city, and neither of them was unpleasantly awful as this.
But he sucked it up and kept eating, his eyes on the prize of power.
And just as he swallowed the last bite…
[Demon metabolized! Rank: Prince (Minor).]
Not even a small stat increase.
'Do I really… need to eat more?'
A wave of nausea assaulted him as he balked at the prospect of doing that more times than one. He was half tempted to just toss it all to Ibmund and be done with it, but he snuffed such thoughts out with a zealous light in his eye.
'No. If this is what it takes, then I won't stop here. Besides, compared to being eaten alive… twice… this is nothing.'
Lokus fished another heart out of the bag and, swallowing his bile, dug in.
...…
Twenty-three.
It took twenty-three hearts, but finally…
[Demon metabolized! Rank: Prince (Middling). Your Strength and Endurance have improved!]
[Majesty: Prince
Endurance: King (Minor)
Strength: Prince (Superior)
Perception: Prince (Middling) +1]
His Strength still had yet to cross that final threshold, but he had finally-!
[Quest "Endurance Training" complete!
Reward: Phantom's Beckoning (Imperial Throne)]
[Your demonic bloodline has evolved to the King rank! A blood trait is awakening within you!
…
Blood trait awakened! Name: Grimn's Mark. Your Frost affinity is evolving!]
'My affinity is wha-? AGH!'
A piercing pain suddenly stabbed at Lokus' spine, right where his Sovereign Gateway was. He fell to the ground, unable to control his own limbs, and began violently shaking as the pain reached his mind.
His entire world went white, then black, then white again, a torturous experience that dangled the relief of unconsciousness in front of him, only to snatch it away at the last moment and kick him back into that pit of suffering.
He screamed, or at least he thought he did, but all he heard was the ringing in his ears.
Set into motion by a fleeting thought from its master, Ibmund slithered over and brought its hands above its head.
Then, with great relish, it brought its clasped hands down, slamming them into its master's head and pushing Lokus' pain over the edge, giving him the sweet relief of silence.
...…
Lokus' eyes opened up to the stone ceiling above, the dim lighting of the barn soothingly gentle on his eyes, a stark contrast to the splitting headache between his brows and the soreness of his limbs.
He felt like he had just woken up with the world's worst hangover, and even now, his thoughts were sluggish and his limbs slow to respond.
"Ugh, my head," he groaned. His voice came out rough and hoarse, a byproduct of his screams. His head flopped to the side lazily as he looked at the bag that contained the demon hearts. "You. This is your fault."
A strange sound reached his ears just then, like a mix between a hacking cough and a dog's growl. It was Ibmund, and with some chagrin, Lokus realized that the demon was laughing at him. He could practically hear the mocking thoughts behind that bastard's faceless face.
"Can't handle your hearts?" It seemed to say. "How did I ever get shackled to a weakling like you?"
It was all in Lokus' head, of course. Well, besides the laughter. The demon's true thoughts were still barred behind the walls of flesh and meat and bone that was its head, and it still found speaking Talzen impossible, but those laughs were very much real.
But that didn't stop Lokus from responding.
The demon's laughter was cut short as it slapped itself across the face. It growled angrily at its master, who was still sprawled on the floor like a drunkard, but Lokus only chuckled, weakly grabbing the mask that had fallen nearby and putting it on.
"That was for hitting me. I finished the quest, so have at it."
He gestured at the bag of hearts.
Ibmund's eyeless head swiveled from its master to the bag, the doubt and lack of trust somehow evident on that face that held only a mouth, but it eventually slithered cautiously toward the bag.
It reached in slowly, still expecting some sort of trick, but when it pulled a heart out and brought it up to one of the mouths on its chest with no backlash, it greedily began to feast.
"Hey, hey, don't eat the meat! I'm only giving you the hearts."
After Lokus had eaten the first twenty-three, there had been fourteen hearts left, and the demon ate all of them in seconds. Disgusting smacks and slurps filled the barn as the demon ate, tossing hearts into its mouths and chewing the gamey meat before swallowing, finishing in a flash.
As soon as it swallowed the last bite, it began to shudder much like its master had before, a primal power flowing through its veins.
[One of your Egones has evolved!
Ibmund: King (Minor)]
Lokus blinked in the demon's direction. The added range his mask gave him had expanded by another full meter, for a total of two extra meters. But this wasn't even the most surprising thing he noticed.
Even when the supply of Majesty was cut off and it lost its tangible form, Ibmund's claws seemed to rake the musty air of the barn, something Lokus only noticed thanks to his Domain.
The demon could apparently turn this newfound ability off at will, and with a thought the disturbance in the air vanished as it turned to its master, its mouths contorted in… gratitude? It was hard to tell without eyes.
"Hmph. If you want to thank me, go get me some water. My throat feels like, well, like here."
The demon immediately moved to fulfill its master's command, a powerful will moving its tail as left the barn.
'And something to eat,' Lokus called to the demon with his thoughts. Judging by the feeling in his stomach, he had been out for at least half a day. 'Now, time to see what all of that did for me.'
[Stats
Rank: Prince
...
Mantles
>Disturbed Crown. Rank: Prince. Type: Krone. Abilities: Gives the user the Phantom Monarch System. Affinities: Phantom Frost Affinity.
...
Affinities
>Phantom Frost. Rank: Prince
...
Condition: Healthy
Bloodlines: Foust (demon), Grimn (demon).
...
Blood Traits
>Grimn's Mark. Rank: King. Bloodline Origin: Grimn.
...
Majesty: Prince
Endurance: King (Minor)
Strength: Prince (Superior)
Perception: Prince (Middling) +2]
Right off the bat, Lokus noticed three things that had changed. The first, and the one he had already found out on his own, was that his mask had given him an extra meter to his Domain's range, as denoted by the +2 next to his Perception.
Second was the blood trait the Phantom Monarch System had said he awakened, something called "Grimn's Mark," which supposedly came from his Grimn demon bloodline. He'd have to investigate it later, because right now, his eyes were fixed on two particular words on his system's screen.
Phantom Frost.
He didn't know why, but those two words stood out to him on the screen, as if they had been painted there in a bold font intended to catch his attention.
'Phantom Frost. Does it have anything to do with the name of this system?'
His lack of knowledge was beginning to infuriate him. Was this change a good thing? Or a bad thing? He had no way of knowing, and didn't even know if affinities were supposed to evolve.
Was this a rare occurrence? Or a natural part of advancing his bloodline? Would it happen again?
He had so, so many questions, and yet the only answer he received was silence.
Eventually, he sighed, sitting up with his knee pressed against his bare chest as he put a hand to his forehead. He could feel his headache through his fingers, the veins in his temples expanding and contracting with what felt like the force of hammers.
He sighed again, heavier this time.
The change that had happened to him, the pain that had blinded him, it had happened because of this, this… Phantom Frost. He had nothing to base this claim on other than his own gut, and yet he knew it to be true.
His stomach yowled, tickling his sore ears as a certain hunger made itself known in between the thumps of his headache.
He suddenly wanted to drown himself in food.
