"...Magefoes who practice this meditation method must torment humans over and over, torment souls, to observe despair—that is how they complete the ascension of the soul. The process has to be done by oneself. Ready-made human negative energy is of no use for it; it can only be used to cast spells."
Adam could not understand this method of ascension. Using other people's despair to advance my own soul? Where does the energy conversion in that come in?
Mage Blake was only giving him the briefest outline; he had no interest in explaining in detail. Besides, if an apprentice who practiced this meditation method met a full-fledged Mage, he was certain to be killed on sight, because it struck at the very foundations of the Mage Plane.
But that was another matter entirely.
The two returned to Blan Town. Mage Blake's rescue mission ended here. The apprentices and townsfolk had been struck by the negative energy and fallen into a coma; inevitably, some of the frail-minded among them would not withstand their own self-negation and would die, but Mage Blake was powerless to do anything about it—he was not a Mage who specialized in the power of souls, and casualties on this scale were permitted.
In the end it came down to a breakdown in the relationship between supply and demand. The Mages did not maintain their rule on the support of ordinary people, so naturally they did not care much whether ordinary people lived or died. Whatever the ordinary people's discontent, they had no power to overthrow Mage rule.
Adam did not care whether they lived or died either. First, a soul born of an artificial intelligence did not classify itself under the genus of humanity. Second, ordinary people were of very little use to Adam—neither in strength nor in wisdom could they help him.
Suddenly the balloon floated up out of Adam's hand and began absorbing the residual negative energy on its own. With the balloon at the center, one person after another dazedly climbed to their feet.
The apprentices were the first. After respectfully saluting Mage Blake, Zach and Thomas stood to one side. They had a great many questions they wanted to ask, but they knew this was not the time.
William was the same. Once he found that Riley had not returned to Blan Town, he knew she must have come to a bad end; he just did not know whether Adam had done it or that Magefoe had killed her.
But not everyone was so perceptive. Terry's last thought was still stuck on the instant when Adam's fireball was about to strike Ruili. When he came to, he anxiously searched everywhere for Ruili, and at last found the girl's body lying quietly outside the town. He charged out of the town like a madman, halted a few meters from Ruili's corpse, then walked toward her step by step, very carefully, saying softly, "Ruili, wake up. Don't sleep anymore. The honored Mage is here—we're safe now..."
No one paid any attention to what Terry was doing. Every eye was drawn to the balloon.
In front of Adam the balloon swelled and shrank rapidly. Adam realized the devil was about to be born, and hastily cut his finger and traced the master-servant contract in the air above it.
Mage Blake shook his head and said to Adam, "A devil will not accept a master-servant contract. You need to sign a fair contract with it, otherwise it would rather destroy itself than be born..."
But before he had even finished speaking, he saw the complete master-servant contract spread over the entire sphere. Then the balloon contracted inward to the limit and burst apart.
Among devils, the powerful trade with transcendent beings, and the weak trade with ordinary life. The purpose of such a trade is to obtain souls and every kind of emotion with which to complete their own growth, and its precondition is that the devil be stronger than the one it trades with—otherwise no deal can be struck. And the negative energy left in the minds of those weak townsfolk of Blan Town was exactly the nourishment this devil larva in Adam's hand needed for its final growth.
This, too, was a transaction.
The devil was born.
They have no fixed appearance—or rather, they are not flesh and blood, but a being of will.
They possess wondrous innate skills. On contact with a life, they keenly sense what the other's heart favors, and reshape themselves into the form most approachable and most alluring.
Just so now: the newborn devil looked different in everyone's eyes, though always beautiful, and they could not help drifting toward it.
Terry carried Ruili's corpse back into the town. Ruili was his love; they had once vowed never to part in this life, to walk the path of Mages together, and Adam had destroyed all of it. Terry was resolved to avenge Ruili, even at the cost of his life.
But the instant he raised his head, he found Ruili standing whole and unharmed in front of Adam, smiling sweetly and beckoning to him. Boundless delight bloomed in Terry's eyes: "Ruili! You're not dead—thank goodness, thank goodness!"
He exploded into astonishing speed, flashed up to the devil in an instant, and flung his arms around it.
Mage Blake could have stopped him, but he did not, because a devil will never directly kill any sentient being. Adam could have stopped him too, but he did not, because Adam wanted to see what would happen next.
Just a devil? Not necessarily—after all, it once had an abyssal shell, and it once devoured countless flesh and blood.
The newborn devil was still muddled. In its mind, Adam was its master, Mage Blake a powerful being not to be provoked, and everyone else nothing but food. Two wills tangled inside its head: one belonged to the devil, telling it that it must not eat people like this; the other belonged to the abyssal creature, telling it that it was hungry, so hungry—eat, eat.
The devil looked at its master and timidly asked Adam, "What should I do?"
Adam gave no sign. The choice the devil made next was exactly what he had been indulging it to see.
The devil's reason overcame the abyssal creature's chaotic thinking. The newborn devil chose to spare Terry—and in its heart it decided that if there was a next time...
Terry's lunge caught only air. Unwilling to accept it, he murmured to himself, "Ruili? You're being naughty again. Don't move—come back to the academy with me." And he lunged at "Ruili" once more. This time Terry succeeded; he embraced "Ruili," and the warm, soft feel of her was just as it had always been. He said, intoxicated, "You're alive. That's so good."
Then something terrible happened. In the perception of Adam and Mage Blake, the devil had no concrete form at all—it was a mass of chaos. The instant Terry touched it the second time, the chaos opened a huge mouth and swallowed Terry down in one bite.
The two of them clearly watched Terry being chewed to pulp and digested. At that same moment the devil's innate skill paused, and everyone woke from the illusion and saw the same thing; they all turned to look at Adam in utter horror.
The devil ate fast—a few chews and it had swallowed everything. Then, like a small animal that knew it had done something wrong, it came to Adam's side and crouched low, as though waiting for Adam to punish it.
Adam bowed slightly to Mage Blake and said, "Honored Mage Blake, I am very sorry. I am willing to pay the academy compensation for this."
Mage Blake only waved his hand lightly and said, "This is not your fault. Anyone must pay the price for his own stupidity. But compensation is still needed—you can work that out with the enforcers yourself once you are back at the academy."
Compared with the life of an insignificant apprentice, what made Mage Blake curious was Adam's contracted creature. Blake had never seen the offspring of a devil mating with an abyssal creature, because in theory it simply could not happen—how could a being of will mate with a flesh-and-blood life?
Mage Blake said abruptly, "Adam, would you be willing to transfer this devil to me? I will pay a price that makes your heart stir."
Adam was slightly taken aback; he had not expected the Mage to make such a request. He considered for a moment, then replied, "Forgive me, sir. For the time being I have no such intention."
Mage Blake did not take offense; it had been nothing more than a moment's curiosity. In the end he was an orthodox air elemental Mage, not deeply versed in other-plane life and souls, and it did not matter if he did not get it.
Seeing Adam converse so calmly with a full-fledged Mage, Zach and Thomas felt their wariness of him deepen. Never had they seen any apprentice whom a full-fledged Mage regarded so highly, and they silently counted themselves lucky never to have offended Adam.
William once again felt a chill that sank into his bones. He still brooded over the deaths of Terry and Ruili; less than a year of apprenticeship had done nothing to change the notions he had carried in with him.
A few days later they were back at the academy. Mage Blake left straight away; William bade Adam farewell and went to the mission hall to settle the reward. Adam had no interest in the few magic stones that came with it—after paying a meager compensation, he returned alone to his laboratory.
In the academy the rookies were bustling about, all preparing for the trial. The disappearance of two apprentices raised not a ripple; in fact, people had been dying continuously over this stretch of time.
The jungle law of the survival of the fittest, even gilded over by civilization, could not have its standing shaken.
In the laboratory, James and Frank were still constructing their meditation method. They were probably the hardest-working people in the academy apart from the rookies—after all, they were no longer young.
The two had not expected Adam to be back so soon from his mission, and greeted him in surprise: "Adam, you finished the mission already?" Word of the Magefoe's appearance had never reached their ears, and Adam had no interest in explaining; he only nodded to them and turned back into his own room.
The two were used to Adam's coldness and did not disturb him further, each going about his own business.
Adam sat down in his chair and released the devil he had bound inside a single thread. The devil was most displeased with that cramped little space; the moment it appeared it complained to Adam, "Master, I hate that place. It's too small—I can't even turn over."
Adam blinked. A few days ago the devil could only emit a vague will—and now: "You've learned our language?"
The devil said smugly, "Of course. Language is only the shallowest way a race expresses its will. I was born able to receive every kind of information and desire; learning one language is no difficulty for me at all."