A Demon’s Imaginary Space is usually closely related to its master.
So are lavish and magnificent palaces; so are sacred, grand mountain peaks; and so are solemn, deadly fighting arenas...
But this post-apocalyptic scene before him was sothing Westheid had never seen before.
The deeper he went, the more he could feel a thick sense of sorrow and lancholy, as if he were wandering before a giant tombstone.
After an unknown amount of ti, Westheid heard singing. The voice was very faint, but in this world filled only with the mournful howl of the wind, it was exceptionally clear.
Westheid imdiately followed the sound.
Then he saw the candelabras.
Brass candelabras held a varying number of white jade candles, burning with a dim yellow light. This candlelight made him feel quite warm.
The cold, damp air was washed away, and even the lancholy in his heart dissipated significantly. It was so comfortable that Westheid couldn’t help but shiver. As he drew closer to the source, he could also make out the lyrics of the song.
"Drink the madness, from turbid to clear."
"Weaving weariness and passion, life dissolves into motes of dust, never to find peace..."
"No one is hard by this. Is that sothing to be praised?"
"Heeding the folly of all expectations. Does that make it right?"
"The night sky twinkles, the Star Sea sways."
"The shimring lights dim, falling in a vibrant cascade."
"Reaching for the heavens, reaching for the heavens."
"Heh, reaching for the heavens indeed."
"And yet, I only wish..."
"..."
The song was ethereal and clear, as if sung by strumming the strings of a fragile soul. It captivated Westheid, compelling him to quicken his pace.
He followed the path of candlelight. The candles around him grew more nurous until their dim yellow glow overpowered the gloomy sky. And at the end of this path of light...
...sat a young woman in a red dress, at the highest point, surrounded by candelabras.
Her long, cherry-white hair flowed down her smooth back like a waterfall, a fantastical color stripped of all impurities. It was so thick and long that it extended past her own height.
Woven into this beautiful hair were jet-black thorns, interspersed throughout the cherry-white cascade.
Her black and red dress was off-the-shoulder with flared sleeves, adorned with the sa jet-black thorn pattern as her hair. The hem barely covered her thighs, leaving large swathes of fair skin exposed. With her long, shapely legs curled up slightly, the young woman rested her face gently on her knees.
She had a sweet, pretty face like an exquisite doll, with a small, delicate nose and lips. Her aura was as tiless and tranquil as a painted scroll. Strands of cherry-white hair hung down from her temples, swaying gently.
Her eyes were like the settling of crimson embers. Though they were nearly the color of blood, they were filled with an inorganic softness and tranquility.
The otherworldly young woman exuded a sense of delicate beauty, utterly out of place with her surroundings. It created a broken, aesthetic charm. If this were a scene from a fairy tale painting, it would surely be a breathtaking masterpiece.
However, Westheid felt no sense of ease. The mont he saw her, an imnse presence filled everything, rendering all his surroundings insignificant. The entire world held only a single being, a single will, making itself known.
This was not an unfamiliar feeling.
Westheid had experienced sothing similar when he faced the will of the Radiant Holy Tree.
Clearly, this young woman with long, cherry-white hair was the master of this Imaginary World, the Celestial God’s Shadow, the Master of Extinction.
The mont Westheid arrived from the path of candlelight, the Master of Extinction stopped her soft singing and looked at him with her crimson eyes.
Her eyes were filled with a deep sense of nostalgia and sorrow as she gazed quietly at Westheid.
Then, the Master of Extinction extended a hand. Her small lips did not move, yet a clear, cold voice surfaced in Westheid’s mind.
’That’s it, that’s it. This must be a display of Divine Power.’
However, what the Master of Extinction said left Westheid sowhat bewildered.
"My love..."
"Co closer. Take my hand."
"..."
’Huh?’
’So Demons do enjoy experiencing all that mortals have to offer, and might even develop unusually intimate relationships with their contractors... but isn’t calling "my love" on our first eting crossing a line?’
’Or is this just the Master of Extinction’s unique way of greeting soone? What is she trying to say? How should I respond?’
Westheid didn’t let his guard down in the slightest just because the Master of Extinction had the appearance of a sweet young woman. Instead, he rapidly pondered the possible deeper aning behind her words.
’Demons or Celestial Gods, Ascenders are fundantally different from mortals. They are ineffable beings.’
Seeing Westheid remain silent, the Master of Extinction lowered her eyes slightly and continued:
"Hold my hand tight. Don’t let go."
"My love, do you want to bear this heartbreaking loneliness all by myself?"
"When we... are accomplices."
’Seriously? We just t, and you’re dropping these heavy lines on ?’
"My apologies, esteed Master of Extinction."
After careful consideration, Westheid bowed to the young woman in the red dress with cherry-colored hair, who was seated on the throne of candlelight.
"May I ask if we... have signed a contract before? One that I might not rember?"
One possibility Westheid could think of was that he had already made a contract with the Master of Extinction but had forgotten the experience as part of the price.
As soon as he finished speaking, the Master of Extinction’s crimson eyes widened slightly. She then sized Westheid up again with a serious gaze. He felt an imnse, profound will sweep through his body, prying into him from the inside out until nothing was hidden.
But since he had already resolved to embrace Demon Power, Westheid naturally didn’t mind his privacy being exposed.
"I see."
After withdrawing her gaze, the Master of Extinction nodded slowly.
"My love, I have waited for so, so long. I forgot the node where our fates intertwined. Has the ti not yet co...?"
The Celestial God’s Shadow seed to be muttering to herself, even closing her eyes completely. Westheid remained where he was, waiting for a long, long ti, until the Master of Extinction opened her eyes again and looked at him with a gentle and affectionate gaze:
"Then, my love, what have you co here for?"
Westheid imdiately replied, "You just read my mories, so you should know the trouble I’m facing. I want to make a contract with you in exchange for the power to awaken Mivana from her berserk status. For that, I am willing to pay any price you ask."
If it were any other Demon, Westheid would not have been so decisive. Although the personalities of the Celestial God’s Shadows varied and couldn’t be simply summarized as evil and cruel, they weren’t much better.
Celestial Gods required an elent of "goodness," but Demons had no such need. Every single one of them was a being of pure passion and impulse.
To put it less delicately, they were all wanton and reckless, without a care in the world.
It was precisely because he trusted the Master of Extinction that Westheid dared to face this great existence and propose a deal.
’Surely the terms proposed by this friendly Demon won’t be too harsh... right?’
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