The Damned Demon - Chapter 833

Chapter 833: To Never Be Helpless Again
Deep within the ruins, shrouded in dark green light, Asher remained in deep meditation, unaware of time’s relentless passage.

Every breath he took was rhythmic, slow, and deliberate as he embraced the chilling embrace of death that lingered in the air. He felt each tendril of darkness coiling around his form like ancient serpents, filling his bones with mana long forgotten and lost to time.

Yet something else clung to the air—echoes of souls. Tens of thousands, perhaps even more. They lingered in twisted agony, suspended in the veil between realms, their cries too faint to be heard by ordinary ears.

But Asher heard them clearly.

They were humans—he could sense whatever was left of them. The anguished remnants of Skully’s forgotten civilization. Souls scarred and broken by whatever tragedy took place, forever trapped in this forsaken place.

“Asher…”

Asher shuddered inwardly, suddenly feeling a weight upon his heart.

His entire body stiffened. A whisper—soft and sorrowful, laced with regret. His heartbeat accelerated instantly, thundering like a war drum in his chest.

“You…” he whispered, disbelief and confusion mixing into a volatile cocktail. He knew this voice. Even faded, even distorted by distance and pain, he could never forget her voice despite it sounding weary and weak.

The woman who had betrayed him, the woman who had let him perish, taking with her his heart, his legacy, and the people he cared about.

Why was he hearing her now? How could her voice, tinged with such sorrow, find him here amidst ruins and lost souls?

“I am sorry…I failed again…”

Her voice cracked with genuine sadness, trembling softly into silence. Asher felt his soul quivering uncontrollably. Confusion and anger surged through him—why was she apologizing? What did she fail to do?

But before he could even begin to piece together the fragments of her plea, another voice pierced his consciousness, filled with unspeakable anguish.

“Father…”

It was a man’s voice Asher did not recognize, yet its profound pain seemed to grip his soul and wrench it in half. The sheer torment woven into that single word made his breath catch.

He didn’t recognize this voice, yet every syllable filled him with visceral dread, an inexplicable agony blooming in his chest, as though a dagger had been thrust directly through his heart.

“Please…you have to do this…it’s the only way to release you from this curse…”

Each word echoed in his mind, a haunting melody of desperation and grief. He felt hot tears sting his closed eyes, confusion deepening into something darker—raw fury.

His mind screamed questions that his voice could not form. “W-Wait,” he finally choked out, his voice strained and shaking, “who are you…?”

But the voice faded away like smoke caught by the wind, leaving behind nothing but silence and a cavernous emptiness within his heart.

Yet the tempest inside him had not faded. On the contrary, it surged violently—a torrent of emotions overwhelming his senses.

Rage, sorrow, pain, helplessness—all magnified beyond anything he’d ever felt, even at the moment of betrayal that had shattered his previous life.

His fists tightened fiercely, bones cracking audibly beneath the pressure, but he felt no pain—only the overwhelming desire to eradicate the helplessness gnawing at his soul.

“No more…” Asher growled deeply, his voice dripping with absolute resolve, his mana circuit pulsing with fierce intent.

He didn’t know or understand why he heard these voices or why his emotions were left in shambles after listening to them.

But what he knew was that he never again wanted to feel helpless again.

As if answering his call, the surrounding darkness surged toward him, dark-green tendrils erupting in a violent tempest. His mana circuit blazed to life, veins of dark green mana glowing brilliantly, illuminating his skeletal form beneath his flesh.

His consciousness expanded rapidly, brushing against the seemingly infinite darkness. It felt natural, innate, as if he had always belonged here among shadows and despair.

A message resonated deeply within his mind,

[ New Passive Ability Gained ]

[ Night Trance – You were born to dominate and control the darkness that permeates across space and time. Meditating in total darkness will bestow you with certain advantages ]

The power continued building, his aura erupting in dazzling waves of dark green energy.

[ New Talent Gained ]

[ Night’s Revelation – For every hour under Night Trance, you will gain 0.1% increase across all stats. These stats will last based on the time spent under Night Trance ]

Yet, Asher did not pause or revel in these newfound abilities. His drive for strength had evolved into something primal, something fierce and untamable.

He continued to pull upon the mana from the ruins, and the very fabric of darkness itself. His strength began rising at an astonishing pace, shattering past barriers previously thought unbreakable. His aura expanded, intensifying exponentially.

Level 31…32…33…

His body trembled violently from the influx of raw, unchecked mana, yet he held firm, dominating the darkness with sheer willpower.

Level 34…35…36…

The sheer magnitude of power threatened to tear apart reality itself, the ground beneath him cracking with dark green veins spread like corruption across stone, soil, and rubble, bathing the ruins in sinister luminescence.

–

Outside, just a minute ago, Rebecca was busy staring at Valeria, her fingers itching anxiously as she contemplated another spar.

But remembering the way she bashed her face in was forcing her to think twice. Why did she have to go for the face? She didn’t expect her to fight so dirty despite dressing up in such a noble way.

Fortunately, Asher wasn’t awake to see her in such a pathetic and ugly condition.

Yet her determination to see if she can best Valeria and test her strength won over her less critical concerns.

But before Rebecca could take that first step, the ground beneath her feet shook violently, almost throwing her off balance.

“What the—” Her eyes darted around swiftly, landing on the source of the disturbance.

Asher.

He sat unmoving in the cavern’s depths, enveloped in a vortex of dark green mana, the tendrils coiling around him violently, thrashing like monstrous whips, hungry for destruction.

“What the hell is going on?” Rebecca muttered, anxiety creeping into her voice as she stared helplessly at the swelling energy.

Before she could say more, Asher’s aura expanded exponentially. A powerful force erupted outward, smashing into her like an invisible tidal wave.

Rebecca gasped, feeling a tremendous pressure slam down onto her shoulders. Her knees buckled, shaking uncontrollably beneath the immense, oppressive weight.

“W-What kind of….strength is this….?” she rasped breathlessly, collapsing to her knees. Her eyes widened in disbelief and awe. She had seen and obviously experienced breakthrough to peak Soul Devourer before—but this was something far beyond anything she’d ever imagined. Far beyond even her own breakthrough to Level 35.

Sweat dripped down her brow as she fought to remain conscious, feeling as if a mountain itself pressed upon her back.

Skully stood at a distance, watching silently, his half-charred figure bathed in the eerie glow of Asher’s power increasing.

The crushing weight on Rebecca’s curvy frame only seemed to increase, forcing beads of sweat to trickle down her pale forehead.

Her knees trembled uncontrollably against the iron-like floor beneath her, each breath labored and shallow. Her muscles burned, threatening to collapse under the overwhelming pressure emanating from Asher’s rapidly escalating aura.

Even Valeria seemed to be standing undaunted. How?

“Hey… You…” she rasped weakly, straining with every ounce of her willpower just to turn her head slightly toward Skully, who stood perfectly still, untouched by the maelstrom of mana surging through the chamber, “What… is happening to him…?”

Skully’s charred form shifted ever so slightly. His magma-dripping eye sockets flickered momentarily as he regarded Rebecca’s pained face without a shred of emotion.

“This is the breakthrough of a Soul Tyrant,” he answered coldly, his deep voice resonating like distant thunder amidst the raging tempest of mana, “He has just broken through the lower limits of power attainable within this universe.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened, shock rippling visibly across her expression, disbelief and confusion battling within her dark red irises.

Her voice trembled as she stammered, struggling to comprehend what she’d just heard, “W-Wait… You mean… So I’m not a Soul Tyrant yet? Even after reaching Level 35…?”

Skully’s silence lingered for a fleeting moment, yet it felt eternal beneath the oppressive aura flooding the chamber. When he finally spoke again, his tone held no sympathy, only stark truth.

“To become a Soul Tyrant, one must reach Level 36,” Skully stated calmly, his words cutting through her like an icy dagger. “And the peak of Soul Tyrant strength lies at Level 40.”

Rebecca’s expression darkened, anger and disappointment flaring in her eyes. Just moments ago, she had been overwhelmed with excitement, convinced she had finally transcended the limit set on mortals by the devils—only to have her pride shattered by a single, indifferent remark from Skully.

Skully seemed to notice her turmoil, continuing with a tone devoid of comfort yet carrying pragmatic advice, “You should not obsess over pure strength. Instead, focus on developing the innate powers your bloodline offers. Only then can you hope to achieve true growth.”

Rebecca stared numbly at the floor, the green veins of mana pulsing beneath her knees, her body trembling violently. Her pride had been wounded, her confidence brutally checked, but as her eyes slowly rose again toward the blazing figure of Asher, her heart steeled itself anew.

The dark-green radiance reflected vividly in her deep-red eyes, illuminating the fierce determination gradually replacing her despair. The image of Asher—powerful, unstoppable, transcendent—burned itself into her memory.

A fresh surge of resolve filled her chest, washing away the momentary bitterness. No matter how many times she stumbled, no matter how painful the truth might be, she knew she couldn’t surrender.

She had already broken one limit. She could break another. Skully was right: her bloodline seemed to hold more potential than she gave it credit for, waiting patiently within her veins, ready to be unleashed.

Rebecca exhaled sharply, steadying her breath, and forced herself to rise slowly from the cold floor, gritting her teeth defiantly against the crushing weight of Asher’s still-escalating aura.

“Ugh!” But she crumbled down before she could even lift her knees.

Yet she whispered fiercely under her breath, barely audible yet brimming with conviction, “Fine… If this is how it has to be, I’ll just break through again. And again… until no limit can hold me back.”

Skully observed her silent resolve, neither approving nor condemning. He simply turned his gaze back toward Asher, whose transformation continued unchecked, his power cascading upward without restraint. Rebecca too remained rooted in place, watching silently, learning, waiting—ready to push forward once more.

After all, she had already tasted the impossible, and nothing in this damned world would stop her from tasting it again.