The Curator
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Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2025-07-12 04:22:22 +0000 UTC“Uh, Mike? Hello? Are you okay?” Raphael’s voice wavered with concern as he stared at his friend, who now clung like a marionette to the magic barrier, his fingers clawing against it as if trapped in a nightmare.
Finally, I thought. Took the brat long enough to notice.
I narrowed my eyes at Mike, studying him with a practiced gaze. No aura, no sense of possession or outside force. That was odd. Manipulating someone within this realm was supposed to be impossible — the whole space was sealed off, isolated from external influence. And yet, someone had brought that boy here. Someone powerful. Powerful enough to bypass cosmic safeguards. At least an archangel… or worse.
While I pondered the mystery and the silent war being waged behind the scenes, the boy’s voice suddenly cut through the tension — sharp, accusatory.
“You… You’re the one controlling his mind! You’re doing this to torture me!” Raphael spat, pointing a trembling finger in my direction.
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Seriously? If I were mind-controlling your friend, trust me, I’d make him do something much funnier. Okay, maybe being this dumb isn’t far off, but deep mental manipulation isn’t my thing, kid,” I replied, feigning disinterest.
A half-truth, really. Full mind control was beyond me, but subtle influence? That was a different story. Angels and demons alike often laced their auras with persuasive undertones — coaxing trust, amplifying fear. I never bothered learning those tricks; power, raw and unfiltered, was always more my style. Not that it mattered — the amulet around his neck blocked that kind of influence anyway.
“Then if it’s not you… who is it?” the boy asked, voice cracking, desperation bleeding through his words.
“Good question,” I said, already annoyed. “I can’t even feel the influence on him. That’s what’s bothering me.”
As we spoke, the angel who’d been shattered earlier began to stir again. Without wasting a second, I teleported to her side and grabbed another of her stone statues — slamming it down onto her head. A satisfying crunch echoed through the chamber as her skull cracked, sending splinters of marble and divine ichor across the floor. My mood lifted.
It was time to get answers elsewhere. I blinked across the room and appeared before the elves, my posture commanding — embodying once more the role of the mad emperor they feared.
“Alright, your turn. I overheard something about a portal. Where does it lead, and who’s coming through it?” I asked, voice calm but laced with menace.
The male elf stepped forward, bowing slightly. “We opened a portal to the Grand Palace. The King and Queen will be arriving shortly, along with an army. A few dragons and elite warriors have already crossed.”
My expression didn’t shift, but inside, I raised an eyebrow. Dragons and royals? This was escalating faster than I liked.
“And how did you even find this place?” I asked, this time with genuine curiosity. Mortals stumbling into this realm was rare enough. Elves and humans doing it simultaneously? That was practically unheard of.
“One of our eldest foresaw it,” the elf replied. “He saw these two humans in a vision and claimed they would lead us to this place. So we searched... and we found them.”
“Well then,” I said with a cold smile. “Thank you for your honesty.”
With a flick of my fingers, I unleashed a pulse of shadow magic. Every elf in the chamber collapsed instantly — lifeless — except the highborn pair, the male and female who still knelt before me. I spared them… for now. Killing them might cause more problems than it solved. Information, after all, was a currency more valuable than gold at the moment.
Still, I noticed the brat glaring at me, his eyes filled with something between horror and confusion. He’d tried to speak to Mike earlier, but the poor fool was long gone. To save time — and because I was running low on patience — I disintegrated Mike’s body with a streak of black lightning. A quick, clean end.
Of course, that only made things worse.
“No, Mike! What have you done?!” Raphael cried, collapsing to his knees, anguish pouring from him like rain. The elf nobles didn’t hear — the soundproofing barrier I’d maintained made sure of that. It was better that way. Things would get messy soon.
“Time’s up,” I said coolly, stepping toward him. “Get your shit together. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through to get here? I’m not letting the amulet fall into the hands of the bastard who twisted your friend’s mind.”
He stared at me, eyes wide with grief, tears trembling on his lashes.
“Besides,” I added, more softly, “your friend was already dead. He made a contract — and I think whoever was on the other end got tired of him. Pushed him until he broke.”
To my surprise, the boy didn’t scream, didn’t lash out. He simply… stopped. His breathing slowed. The tears didn’t fall. He calmed himself.
That was unexpected.
“Then why didn’t you kill those two?” he asked after a beat, his voice quieter now, more measured. He nodded toward the two elven nobles, still bowed with stiff backs and blank expressions.
“They’re highborn and I liked their praise,” I said with a shrug. “Besides, letting them live sends a message. Also the elves would have tried to get a bloody revenge.”
I gave him a sideways glance and smiled.
“Now then… ready to see what happens when royalty walks into a warzone?”
“Can you hold them as hostages until we’re out of this pyramid?” the brat asked, his voice tense but steady.
I tilted my head, mulling it over. “Easiest thing in the world. But once the demon shows up, things might get... complicated. Splitting my attention between keeping them contained and fending him off isn’t ideal. Better to let them run through — easier to manage one front at a time.”
A darker thought crept into my mind, one as casual as it was cruel: breaking their arms and legs would neutralize them as a threat without killing them. But no — even I wasn’t in the mood for that kind of mess. For now, I’d let them live. The real problem was the demon.
“You had no trouble with the angel. Why would a demon be any different?” the brat asked, still a little unsteady on his feet, the color barely returning to his face.
I glanced at him, mildly annoyed by the question. “Because my body’s made from Aether, and the demon is blessed by the Voidgod. Makes him nearly immune to magic, and most of my tricks won’t scratch him.” I paused, cracking my neck as if shaking off the irritation. “I’ll win, don’t worry. It’ll just get a little... louder.”
The brat blinked, struggling to process it all. “What’s a Voidgod?”
“Later,” I cut him off, already turning toward the corridor. “First we get out of here.”
“Wait — what’s your range? How far back should I stay?” he called after me.
I slowed my pace, glancing over my shoulder. “Good thinking. I don’t have the widest reach, but close enough is fine. Just don’t wander too far.”
As he hurried to catch up, I added, “And stay away from the elves. The amulet won't stop their spells even a little bit. Physically, they’re stronger and faster than you — and if you slip, they won’t hesitate.”
His expression tensed, but he nodded. I let the corner of my mouth curl into something like approval.
“One more thing. I’m about to drop the sound isolation barrier — so don’t go blabbering about what I’ve told you. And try to act like I’m in full control, alright? Makes things easier.”
That was when something clicked. The elves didn’t know I couldn’t physically harm the brat — but Mike had. That knowledge wasn’t supposed to be possible. Another riddle for later. For now, at least the brat wasn’t complaining about pretending I had power over him. That was progress. Something I could work with.
But the real challenge was still ahead. Destroying the demon’s body with this crippled form and no proper material weapons would be hell. The stone and metals used to build this ancient prison were woven with enough power to resist even my manipulation. That left me with little more than raw magic — and my own, practically indestructible body.
At least there was one upside: the demon couldn’t kill me either, no matter how hard he tried.
My gaze drifted across the chamber, catching on the statues — still intact, still perfectly still.
Ah. One of the angel’s precious stone effigies might do the trick. If I couldn’t tear the demon apart, perhaps I could crush his skull the old-fashioned way. Even so, a demon touched by the Voidgod would be far more dangerous than any angel.
Once the others had moved into the corridor, I shifted position — teleporting directly into the center of the chamber. Without delay, I unleashed an infernal storm. Fire twisted and howled around me, licking at every surface, melting the statues and blackening the angel’s painstakingly carved murals. Her body — what remained of it — was consumed in a blaze of cleansing agony.
She’d reform, eventually. But for now, the flames would leave her nothing but pain.
When the storm died down, I blinked back to the corridor, appearing between the brat and the elves. I motioned for the elves to lead the way.
Their steps faltered when they reached the edge of the demon’s lair. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, thick and metallic. Their eyes locked onto the broken corpse of a dragon lying near the far wall — its scales blackened, throat ripped open.
So much for the elven plan. I could almost hear their thoughts shatter. They’d placed their faith in those dragons, foolishly believing no one would die with such beasts guarding them.
A slow, wet chuckle echoed from the shadows.
“Oh, look who’s wandered back,” the demon crooned, sauntering out from behind the dragon’s carcass. Blood caked his face and jaw — a grisly reminder of his meal.
“The mice have returned to the maze,” he sneered, licking the crimson from his lips. His eyes flicked from me to the brat’s amulet. “So you passed the angel’s little test after all. I thought you’d be weaker.”
I didn’t bother replying.
In the blink of an eye, I was in front of him, fist driving into his face with enough force to shatter stone. It wouldn’t kill him, or even leave a mark for long — but pain was still pain.
As the demon staggered backward, I raised my hand, crackling black lightning arcing between my fingers, and let it loose. The bolt tore through the chamber, slamming into his chest and wrenching a scream from deep within his corrupted lungs.
The walls groaned as the demon’s body crashed into them, the stone webbing with cracks from the impact. I turned sharply to the elves and the brat, gesturing once.
“Run.”
I didn’t have to repeat myself. The elves bolted first, their bodies shimmering as they infused themselves with Aether, streaking through the chamber like living lightning. The human trailed behind them, slower but desperate.
I turned back to the demon, my mind already spinning with the next move. I only needed to hold his attention a little longer. Just a little longer.
It seemed the demon still hadn’t managed, even after all this time, to fully bypass the restrictions on teleportation within this chamber. The barriers woven into these walls were ancient and meticulous — but I’d had centuries to prepare countermeasures of my own. His attempts were clever, yet flawed, and in the end, brute force wouldn’t rewrite the rules.
He raised a clawed hand, and with a guttural snarl, unleashed a torrent of black flames. The fire erupted with terrifying speed, stretching across the room like a tidal wave of void-tainted destruction. Only the blessed of the Voidgod could conjure such flames — well, aside from me, though my path had been long and fraught with failure before I’d come close to mastering the void’s touch. Even now, the process was far from perfect. I could apply the void’s effects to my spells and aether manipulation, but this body — this patchwork shell of inferior aether — lacked the strength to truly harm the demon.
And the demon was stronger than I’d expected.
Just being near him strained the fibers of my body, like reality itself recoiling from his presence. Dodging the flames would’ve been simple enough — for me, at least — but there was a far more pressing problem: the brat was still sprinting behind me, unknowingly in the line of fire.
The flames expanded outward, wide as a dragon’s breath and infinitely more lethal. I raised my hand, summoning a black shield, a flickering barrier forged from raw aether and void threads. It would hold — but not for long.
In the same moment, I teleported beside the demon, my elbow driving into his face with brutal efficiency. My free hand snatched at his arm, wrenching it sideways, forcing the roaring stream of flames away from the boy. The air howled under the pressure, heat bending the aether and warping the very walls of the chamber — though neither the elves nor the brat would have noticed. They couldn’t see the reality cracks forming.
The demon, of course, was enjoying every second. His claws elongated with a wet, organic snap, and black wings burst from his back in a plume of ash and sinew. He wanted to play. I gave him no time for games. Another strike, a sharp, focused shock through his ribcage, sent him hurtling across the chamber, slamming against the far wall with a satisfying crack.
Distance. That’s all I needed — keep him away from the kid.
I teleported once more, materializing behind the demon and seizing him by the throat. My fingers tightened like iron around his neck as I slammed him into the stone wall with enough force to make the chamber quake. The demon’s answer came swiftly: a pulse of black flames erupted in a shockwave, shredding the barrier I had barely managed to conjure, the remnants flickering away like dying embers.
My body was ripped apart by the blast, but I barely registered the damage. A single thought was all it took to knit the wounds closed. Immortality came with certain perks.
Void magic remained the perfect counter to most conventional spells, tearing through even the most sophisticated enchantments with ease. Against living matter, against magic, against constructs — it excelled. But against raw materials? There, aether was still king.
Unfortunately, this chamber offered me no such advantage. The stones were too old, too fortified, woven deep with wards beyond my influence. Manipulating the water in the air had crossed my mind, but even that wouldn't carry enough weight to stall a creature like him. Wind tricks, like the ones I’d used against the angel, were equally useless. You needed solid, heavy, enchanted matter to make any real difference against something tainted by the Void.
Still, I only needed to hold on a little longer.
The elves had already sprinted through to the far side and, predictably, hadn't looked back. Doubtless, they were racing straight toward the army waiting for them outside. I couldn’t help but imagine their faces once they realized the amulet hadn’t come with them — that the brat still had it. That would bruise their pride more deeply than any blade ever could.
Elves and their endless superiority complexes. Most of them couldn’t tell the difference between humans and apes. At least, that was the way of things before I changed the world. Let’s see if I could manage it again.
But until then? I still had a demon to deal with.
Demons were powerful, no question. But skilled fighters? Not so much. Infighting wasn’t in their nature. Most of their strength came from sheer magical dominance and brute force. They rarely needed technique — mortals couldn’t harm them, and they never expected a real fight.
That was my advantage.
I’d been forged in battle, long before all this — long before my ascension. Vampires, elves, creatures of far greater age and strength — I’d faced them all, cut them down when others cowered. Elves spent their centuries lounging in libraries or meditating beneath trees; I’d spent mine learning how to survive. When the day came, I had the edge not because I was older, but because I’d bled more often.
The demon’s claws flailed wildly, slicing through air, stone, and sometimes my body — but always to little effect. My wounds closed as fast as they formed, and with every clash, the frustration behind his void-lit eyes grew. His pride demanded proof of superiority, and that pride had blinded him. He stopped using void magic, relying instead on brute strength.
Big mistake.
There were few things in this existence as satisfying as beating down an immortal. The demon couldn’t kill me, and I couldn’t kill him — not here, not like this. But I could still make him bleed. And for now, that was enough.
Just a few more moments. The brat was almost clear of the chamber. Once he was safe, I could leave the demon here, wallowing in the scraps of his shattered pride.
