The Demon Monarch System

Chapter 108 - Mutated Infernal Nucleus, Insufferable Backlash

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As Apollo awakened, the atmosphere came to a standstill. The nefarious heat circled his body as it was controlled subconsciously by the power running amok within. Subsequently, his awareness returned at a fluid pace, however, his presence was off. It was as if one was looking at the embodiment of wrath itself.

Not to mention, in place of his veins, molten cracks appeared on his body. At this sight, Azridan marveled. However, it wasn't long before his thoughts soon changed, despairing at this turn of events.

[Ira… you fool! Look what you have done! How dare you leave this Wrath within his body! You make my job harder than need be due to your blunder. Even if I wanted to, I can't completely rectify this issue. This world lacks Demonic Anima! Imbecile!!]

A second boundless wrath exploded from Apollo's body except this felt controlled and aimed directly at something. As quickly as it appeared, it vanished. However, by no means, did it accomplish nothing. After all, how can an action made by the former Demon Monarch result in trivial aftershocks?

From that simple burst of unforeseen anger, a large uproar awashed the Demon World. Those who relied upon Ira for power were momentarily powerless. Furthermore, some even groveled before that overbearing pressure that coated the world.

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Far past the current world,

A demon lifted his head ceasing his prior actions. He lifted his head peering into the sky above, "This aura, this revolting hatred containing such an oppressive might; I have only seen this one other time. Is that being not dead? Hoh? Interesting. However, based on this intensity, he has stagnated whereas we have grown! I welcome you in the future—Azridan."

The towering demon chuckled as his formed shrank. Soon enough, he was no taller than two meters. Four extremely large and ominously majestic horns wrapped around his head like a crown. His pure silver hair hung past his waist as he turned to the three behind him.

Thereafter, a malevolent smirk appeared upon his lips, "Xynthos, Kirheim, Zekilyx. It seems our long lost brother is still among us. However, unlike us, his ability to wield the Sin and beyond has fallen to a standstill. It seems our worries for the past millennia have been unwarranted."

"I felt it as well. However, why should we spare his meager existence any attention now? After all, we have you to rule us demons now—Irzanach. Haven't you nearly completed the inheritance? You'll become the next Demon Monarch!" Xynthos chuckled as he gazed proudly at the calm Izranach.

"Hmph, that may be true but I have only reached the same point he has. However, what annoys me is the fact he was able to reach this point in a fraction of the time I was. This unsettles me. Is this an omen? Why is it as I reach this moment, a fluctuation of him is felt." Izranach's eyes remained in the sky as he fell into silence.

Deep within, he felt something was bound to happen. However, he also felt he was wrong and that it wasn't Azridan he should worry about. Unbeknownst to him, he shifted his gaze to an entirely different direction and fell into deeper rumination.

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Apollo clenched his first as the foreign wrath subsided. Unfortunately, his own was still present. Furthermore, it was uncontrollable for the current him; even his ability to talk had been robbed from him.

Based on the current situation, Wrath was still running rampant within Apollo. In fact, it was even greater than before. With Ira gone, there was nothing left to control the remnants of its power.

One had to remember, Ira was purely Sin—an unadulterated power. Without a suitable container, its properties ran amok. Needless to say, Apollo's current physique was far from a proper container. Simply put, it was horrifyingly insufficient.

Let alone a Lesser Demon, even the level beyond—a Greater Demon—would have trouble dealing with the amount of Sin coursing through his body. With each passing moment, the cracks on his body grew and yet, Apollo's countenance remained unaffected by this.

Instead, his eyes were clouded with an immense amount of rage. It was as if part of him was still trapped within the Trial of Rage. Thankfully, his mind was still in a desirable state yet to be entirely consumed. As such, he called out to Azridan.

'Azridan...we have to complete the Infernal Ira Stigmata. I can feel the Infernal Nucleus. I am close but I can't control my body properly. Are you able to do it for me?'

[Unfortunately, I can't. This is one thing that is impossible. I can't dip into your source of sin. Every individual has a unique signature. While it can be siphoned, I can't be the one to cast your breakthrough. If I take you over, the process will be restarted and this time, it'll be at a level equal to my understanding of Sin. In light of that...your body would be destroyed.]

'If that's the case, is this the end for me? Do I just give up? I can feel so much power coursing through me and yet I'm unable to use it? Why is this happening? Why is it that I never have an easy journey! Why does everything go wrong?' Apollo's rage seethed, lamenting his powerlessness to change anything.

Once again, his suppressed wrath was getting the better of him. With that being said, his action was causing his body even more damage. The cracks on his body were spreading at a faster rate. Oddly, with the cracks, no blood seeped out.

Or rather, his blood was morphing into something else entirely. The problem was, there was nothing to sustain him. If there was, the damage would be reversible and even turned into a blessing. Regrettably, they weren't in the Demon World.

[Look at your current mind state, you feel that rage coursing within you? Your Infernal Nucleus is unstable! To be exact, I think it has mutated, it is something belonging to neither a Lesser or Greater Demon. If we form your Stigmata now…]

'What? If we form it what?' Apollo's asked grimly. From Azridan's tone, he understood his next words were nothing good but he needed to hear it.

[You'll die soon. Your internal system, it's being mutilated. If this damage continues or even is accentuated by the Infernal Ira Stigmata, the deterioration rate will hasten.]

'So you mean...my actions have brought about the inevitable? Me trying to harness my Sin has resulted in the repercussions happening anyway? Are you….are you playing with me Azridan? Please tell me you're joking…' Apollo pleaded wherein the rage within his eyes bolstered.

[I'm sorry lad. My words are far from a joke. This is the reality of the matter.]

'What caused this!?' Apollo snarled, clenching his jaw to the point his teeth creaked. This was hard for him to accept. He was dying? All he did was seek power and yet he was once again facing death? Was fate playing some type of cruel game with him? Was destiny testing his sanity?

[The one who gave your trial, as well as this world, caused this. However, if I'm being more specific, you caused this. Do you recall those moments of bloodlust in which you lost control? It was due to small bits of Pride and Wrath melding with your mind. The trial of every Sin tests a quality you must triumph above.

[However, I didn't feel the fluctuation of triumph from you. Instead, it felt as if you had shattered your trial. In doing so, the primal wave of Ira forced into your body was never reclaimed. In other words, you forcefully ending your trial gave birth to this current situation. You should already understand this from your current state—too much Sin is dangerous. Especially so for a newborn Demon.]

'So...I am to blame for this mess. No it's not my fault. It's the detestable Ira whose to blame. It preyed upon the weakness in my mind! I wanted it all to disappear and that's what it did—it vanished. So why am I being punished? No...there has to be a way to correct this,' Apollo muttered. As he was now, he couldn't accept this as truth.

[Haah...as my successor, I'll just have to make a sacrifice for you. There is a way to slow this event, but it's not without its drawbacks. After doing so, I'll most likely have to recuperate my soul. Without a body, this technique is something teetering on being forbidden.]

'Recuperate your soul? That means...'

[Correct. You'll be on your own.]