Abyssal Sovereign: The Demon's Dominion

Chapter 57: Echoes of Vengeanc: war



"They gave birth to me. And my father… he experienced a different kind of love, apart from the love of my mother. To keep the family he had, he simply had to stop opening the portal.

The ancient clan was furious when they learned of this. They sent multiple beings into this world. That's why it has been difficult for anyone in this world to reach quasi-rank 3. The world was damaged, and all other quasi-rank 3 beings perished.

They took both of my parents back to the ancient clan. My father, the God of War, was imprisoned—he still is. But he begged them to spare my mother. She was tortured in ways she could never have imagined… until they received shattering news: the God of War had a child.

To them, it was impossible for such a thing to happen, which made me, the Sword Demon, unique. Because of that, they finally released my mother."

Sword Demon's expression darkened as he pulled out a wine gourd, taking a long drink before continuing.

"This is the root of my drive for strength. They let my mother go, but they promised that when I turn 50,000 years old, they'll return for me. And unless I reach the peak of Rank 2, my mother will die then."

Sword Demon sighed, the weight of sorrow etched across his face.

Shen Ye, standing nearby, spoke in a quiet tone. "I understand, Master. Let me guess—the time is almost here, and you're not at the peak of Rank 2 yet."

A deep belch escaped the Sword Demon, followed by a slow nod. "Correct... sigh..."

The wine gourd vanished as he continued. "I see myself in you, boy. That calm demeanor… it's because you have a path to grow stronger. But is it fast enough?"

Shen Ye looked down, clenching his fist. His master was right—it wasn't fast enough. He didn't even know how powerful the demon was. After all, the damage caused by just its aura was immense.

Sword Demon spoke again, "We may be of different ages, but we face the same dilemma—insufficient strength, with our lives decided by beings far beyond our reach."

"Yes, Master, but I don't want that. I want to be strong," Shen Ye replied firmly.

"You will be. Your strength comes from devouring your enemies. You'll grow quickly, maybe even fast enough to catch up to me in this war."

Shen Ye smiled slightly, knowing his master was close to the truth. "Close… but I devour them whole," he thought. Yet, he kept his thoughts to himself, merely nodding as he and his master exchanged quiet smiles. Two beings of vastly different power, bound by the same fate—insufficient strength.

***

Anya stood in shock as a beautiful woman appeared before her, stepping out of a dark, ominous hole. The hole seemed to have been ripped from reality itself—impossible for Anya to explain. It was like a doorway to nothingness, and the mere sight of it sent a chill down her spine. Her body knew that entering that darkness meant certain death.

"Such a rare beast," the sect master said, her voice pulling Anya from her thoughts. "You would make a lovely pet… or a gift for my son."

"No! No, I'm not a beast, I'm human!" Anya cried out, quickly shifting back to her human form, now standing naked before the sect master.

Surprised, the sect master approached her. "Why do you have two forms? What exactly are you, and how did this happen?" she asked, her confusion evident.

"It's… complicated," Anya replied, before launching into the story of how it all began. The sect master's expression changed with every detail Anya revealed.

When she finished, the sect master frowned deeply. "Are you certain he's a demon?" she asked, shocked. Most demons couldn't do what Void had done, and the transformation Anya underwent was unprecedented. That Void was responsible for her new form was even more astounding.

"We're at war right now. I'll be joining my son and the sect soon. It will be dangerous," the sect master warned with genuine concern.

"Anywhere is better than being with… him," Anya struggled to say, her body trembling at the thought of the torture she had endured.

The sect master's heart broke at Anya's words. She reminded her of herself—an orphan, torn from her family, her brother far away. It also reminded her of her own suffering, how the ancient clan had taken away her son, and the God of War, her love, had been imprisoned for who knows how long.

"It's alright," the sect master said softly, pulling Anya into a gentle hug. Anya's face was pressed into the warmth of her chest, and she let out a surprised gasp.

"I'll take care of you," the sect master whispered. Anya smiled, tears in her eyes, whispering, "Thank you," before collapsing from exhaustion.

The sect master checked her, realizing how overworked her body had been. Now, at last, she had fallen unconscious.

"What have you been through?" she murmured, as she enveloped Anya in her law power, moving swiftly toward the battlefield where familiar auras awaited, along with the war.

***

Not long after she left, a figure stepped out from the shadows. His skin was a deep shade of darkness—Void, in his human form. His eyes were filled with killing intent as he frowned.

He had already made his decision. The girl would die the next time they met.

Void vanished and reappeared next to Linkir.

"Sigh… I can't run away. I have no home, no one to turn to. I've been betrayed by those I called family. Now, all I have is… him."

Linkir glanced up at Void, who was silently watching the battle unfold. As an Aeron, she could see him gathering the souls from the battlefield, and then, shockingly, he gave some to her.

She was stunned, struggling to find her words. "... Why? I mean, thank you, Master…" she hurriedly stammered.

Void's cold voice broke the silence. "You are nothing but pawns to me. I only made you my slave so you could help me with certain tasks. I can't be the only one doing everything… that would be far too boring." He paused briefly before adding, "What I want is chaos. War. It's what my body craves.

I want to grow stronger—strong enough to destroy anyone and decide my own life and death. I want to be the most feared being in all existence."

The war raged on, with dragons and orcs clashing, their bodies and weapons shattering with every blow. Techniques, magic, and death filled the battlefield.

Linkir stood in silence, her heart heavy. "... What should I do now? Should I answer him honestly, or lie? No, he'll know… the truth, then. Fine, I'm tired of pretending.

I was just a happy, young girl once. Now, I'm… this. A hollow shell, more machine than human."

"I... I want to be strong enough to control my fate. Strong enough to do things my way and enjoy my life... strong enough to KILL YOU!" Linkir's voice tore through the air, but her scream was swallowed by the deafening roar of the battle.

Then, silence. A deep, unsettling silence.

For seconds... minutes... the world seemed to stop. Yet, inside her, something stirred. Power, raw and untamed, surged through her. She could feel it—more souls, more strength flowing into her, as if her defiance itself was feeding her ascent.

**Boom.**

Rank 1, low level.

An hour later.

Rank 1, middle level.

"Good," Void finally broke the silence. His voice, calm and almost amused, shattered the tension. Linkir blinked in disbelief. This wasn't the reaction she had expected. Where was the torment? The pain?
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Void smiled, an eerie, chilling smile. "This world would be far too dull if you were invincible, wouldn't it? Stronger beings are necessary to keep things interesting. If I'm your motivation to get stronger, well, that excites me. I'm curious to see just how far you can push yourself as a mixed-breed primordial demon."

Linkir's confusion turned to shock. Was Void truly insane? He had to be. This wasn't normal—this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

"Let me make one thing clear," Void's voice softened but didn't lose its edge. "You will be the first enemy I've ever allowed to survive... for now. But don't get too comfortable."

As if on cue, Linkir's body shuddered, and she felt the shift—Rank 1, high level.

Void smiled again, darker this time. "I'll give you chances, opportunities to escape, to grow. You'll leave, travel to other worlds, gather power. But there's a catch: summon me at the appointed time, and if you fail to meet my deadline... I'll make you wish for death."

Linkir's heart raced, her hands trembling as she absorbed his words. His calmness was worse than any rage.

"You'll watch as everyone who tries to help you dies. Slowly, painfully. And you will beg—for death, for salvation—but none will come." His voice lowered into a deadly whisper. "I want you to hate me, Linkir. I want that hate to consume you. I am a being of utter destruction.

I don't feel pity, or love... nothing but anger, joy, fear, and pain."

Linkir's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, her sobs wracking her body. "Why? Why, Void? Why destroy my world? What more could you possibly want from me?"

Tears spilled down her face, hot and bitter, mixing with the dirt at her knees. The weight of her broken world bore down on her, crushing what little hope remained.

Void folded his arms, his gaze as cold as the Abyss. "Your world was destroyed for the amusement of the strong. It was a game, Linkir, and you're just a piece on the board. You're weak, insignificant. You have no right to ask why."

His words cut deeper than any blade, each one a calculated strike meant to shatter her.

"I will kill you, Void," Linkir whispered, her voice barely audible between sobs. "I swear it. I will kill you, no matter what."

Her body shook with the force of her hatred, her voice cracking under the weight of her rage. "I won't rest. I won't stop until I finally... kill you!"

Void's eyes gleamed. "Good. I like that. Keep your promise. But remember, if you falter, I'll end you before you ever get the chance."

Linkir wiped her tears, her body now rigid with a new resolve. "Yes, master," she said, the words bitter and sharp on her tongue. She rose to her feet, her face a mask of cold, murderous intent.

Her heart, once broken, now burned with a singular purpose: **to kill Void.**

Void watched her, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "I hope I didn't break her too much," he thought, chuckling softly to himself. This was what it meant to be a demon—a true demon. Manipulation, cruelty, and evil in its purest form.

He had molded her perfectly.

************************

The humans finally arrived at the battlefield as they saw giants already waiting…"

The battlefield stretched out before them like a wasteland of impending doom. Towering figures, the giants stood, their massive forms dwarfing the demons beside them. Their presence alone was enough to stir unease among the human ranks.

The demons, nearly as colossal, snarled in anticipation. Despite their differences, the giants were even more formidable in size, casting long shadows over the blood-soaked earth.

Shen Ye looked down at the scene from a distance, his expression grim. He had prepared for this war, but now that he stood on the edge of it, the weight of the coming battle pressed down on him like an iron chain.

This was his moment. His chance. His sister's face flashed in his mind, and his fists clenched. This wasn't just a fight for survival—it was a fight to reclaim his strength and reunite with her.

**Do or die.** The words slipped from his lips, a whispered vow to himself.

Without hesitation, Shen Ye leaped forward, hurling himself into the fray. His body cut through the air, a lone figure charging towards the waiting hordes. The demons and giants turned their attention to the small figure rushing toward them, but he didn't slow. His eyes locked onto the nearest demon, hatred burning in his veins.

"Can't let a junior face them alone, right?" An elder's voice called from behind. His tone was light, but there was an edge of admiration in it. Soon, the personal disciples and other elite warriors followed Shen Ye's lead, jumping down to join him on the battlefield.

For the elders and sect masters, however, this was not yet their fight. They stood back, their eyes scanning the horizon for the powerhouses—waiting for the real battle to begin.

**Boom.**

Shen Ye landed hard, his fist hitting the ground in a powerful superhero landing. Dust and debris flew up around him as he straightened, his resolve steeled.

"For my sister." The words echoed in his heart as he charged forward, his blade cutting through the air. The first demon barely had time to react before Shen Ye was upon him, the sound of his strike ringing through the battlefield.

Each swing of his sword was filled with hatred, with years of pent-up rage toward the demons who had taken everything from him. His strikes were merciless, cutting through demon after demon, a one-man storm on the battlefield.

Meanwhile, at the rear of the giant and demon armies, the true powerhouses watched the chaos with cold detachment. Among them, one figure stood out—a Rank 2 giant, towering even above his kin. In his hand, he held a flag, its fabric shifting in the breeze.

This was no ordinary flag. As a Rank 2 being, the giant king had acquired the ability to see souls, and the flag was an instrument of his design. During the months leading up to the war, he had crafted this device to gather the souls of the dead. The battlefield would be his harvest.

He smiled grimly as he watched the humans and demons clash, knowing that the souls of the fallen would soon flood into his central flag. In the chaos of battle, no one would even notice.

"I'll wait until the Rank 2 warriors engage," he murmured to himself, his fingers tightening around the flagpole. "Then, I'll activate it."

His plan was simple but devastating. Over the past few months, he had scattered smaller versions of the flag throughout various battlefields, all of them designed to capture souls. This central flag would draw them all in, All to meet the 10,000 Rank 2 soul agreement with void.

As the clash between humans, giants, and demons raged on, the giant king waited patiently for his moment, his cold gaze fixed on the carnage below.

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