Abyssal Sovereign: The Demon's Dominion Chapter 204 - 203: Did they survive too ?

Dared's eyes were bloodshot as he felt his body changing, morphing into sothing more terrifying. His bones creaked as a breaking sound echoed through him, though it was muffled by the thick blood pool surrounding him.

He couldn't perceive his surroundings—only the overwhelming pain surging through his body held his attention.

Ti passed, and the once-violent movent in the blood pool gradually lessened... and then stopped altogether.

It grew eerily calm.

Nephem raised an eyebrow.

"This kid is average anyway… If he dies, so be it," he muttered, looking forward as he awaited the next participant.

Just then, sothing stirred. Nephem grinned.

The blood pool churned, and a figure burst through its surface.

It was Dared.

He had survived the transformation.

Blood coated his body, but his form was visible. He had grown to two and a half ters tall, with long, clawed fingernails. His body was that of a predator—muscular, agile, and lethal. His eyes were blood-red, and sharp fangs jutted from his mouth.

This was the result of a fusion between an Aeron and a normal human.

The na of such a hybrid...? Unknown—for now.

"Congratulations on surviving. You've proven your worth," Nephem said with a faint smile. "You're now qualified to join the Dreadborne Organization. I know you must have questions, but I'll answer them in ti. For now, step aside and let the others arrive. Once they're all here, we'll head to our headquarters."

Dared gave a small nod.

His mind was a ss. Though he knew he had survived, his body felt different—familiar, yet sohow foreign.

He noticed his height had changed. He was taller than his previous 1.87-ter fra. Claws extended from his fingers, and four sharp fangs lined his mouth. His eyes, ears, nose, skin… everything was sharper—more attuned to the world around him.

He felt powerful. Terrifyingly so.

Although his realm remained at Planetary Level One, he was certain that if he fought his forr self, he could crush him with a single finger.

That alone proved how monstrous this transformation was.

***********

Within Dared's consciousness, Azerak grinned as he examined the boy's new body.

"What bloodline is this? Incredible… I'm shocked. Even diluted, it still reigns supre. And it carries the aura of chaos—sothing common among the Demon Tribe."

He frowned.

"Hmm... Is it from the Demon Tribe? No. They may share the sa aura, but this is far more potent. The Demon Tribe is weaker… unless the rumors about their origin are true."

Azerak's eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Long ago, it was whispered that the Demon Tribe was a castaway race, banished and forgotten in the vast multiverse. No one knew their true origin. They were said to co from a burning world—unknown even to them.

Even so, they were strong enough to dominate a section of the multiverse.

To understand the scale—a single universe is vast and ever-expanding, nearing infinity. Yet a multiverse is beyond that, a place where spaceti is denser, laws are more absolute, and terrifying rules govern everything. Still, this race claid a foothold within it.

That was terrifying in itself.

So claid the Demon Tribe wasn't even the original bloodline, but beasts who inherited fragnts of demon ancestry. And yet, they were still incredibly powerful.

So then… what of the true demon bloodline?

Azerak's gaze darkened.

As he studied the bloodline flowing through Dared, he felt sothing—fear. It wasn't his own. It ca from the bloodline itself. It tolerated being observed, but he instinctively knew that if he tried to forcibly extract or rge it, a dreadful presence would descend and annihilate him instantly.

"This must be part of the boy's luck," he muttered. "To wake up in this era and end up in such an organization…"

He reflected further.

"How many factions do the humans have now? Who leads them? What's their goal?"

Although he had access to Dared's mories and was aware of the Human Federation and its many organizations—this Dreadborne one being a new and dangerous outlier—he wasn't naïve enough to trust what he saw completely.

You don't see truth. You see the truth they want you to see.

For all he knew, everything—the organizations, the events, the Federation—could be a grand design. Perhaps humanity had already been conquered by a parasitic race.

But Azerak didn't mind.

The more destruction, the better.

*******

Outside...

Dared reverted to his normal form and was surprised at how easily he could switch between the two. While the transformation was unsettling, he was glad to know he had control over it.

Yet, as he stood there, he couldn't ignore the sensation of weakness. In his transford state, he had felt overflowing power—like a balloon filled to bursting. Now, he felt deflated, like a once-fat man suddenly shriveled and weak.

Still, he looked forward.

The space before him rippled and twisted as multiple figures poured through—and they just kept coming.

Nephem set his wine aside and stepped forward.

He repeated the exact words he had spoken to Dared.

One by one, they nodded and entered the blood pool in batches. Their eyes occasionally drifted toward Dared, unsure of who he was. After all, none of them had seen him during the trial—this was their first ti laying eyes on him.

It made sense. The ring had been vast, and participants were far apart. Their curiosity was natural.

Out of every batch of fourteen, only one or two typically survived. If the batch was exceptionally strong, maybe four.

It was tragic.

But it was reality.

Only a few could endure the overwhelming power and devouring nature of the Aeron blood in that pool. The demon bloodline alone was tyrannical—let alone primordial Aeron blood fused with a chaotic demon strain.

It rewrote their very being—and twisted their minds.

Like Dared, the survivors were shocked, puzzled, and thrilled by the power they had gained. Their gamble had paid off. Joining the organization had cost them dearly, but the reward was undeniable.

They, too, transford back to their original forms and stood beside Dared.

Nephem received each of them with the sa eerie smile, repeating the sa words with tireless grace—no signs of boredom, no annoyance.

Just a smile.

And anticipation.

******

Dared's thoughts wandered.

"I wonder if they survived… Turk, Raiden, the Celestial Prince… and Liya, the Duke's daughter."

Not that he truly cared—but curiosity lingered.

They were the only nas he rembered.

The rest? Completely unknown to him.

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