Rearing Demons
Chapter 40: Jisvruul

Chapter 40: Jisvruul

[Congratulations: Gralith Demon Created!]

[Shrieking Eye!]

Although Yur had lost his vision, the notifications came through in a mental clarity beyond physical sight.

I...created a Gralith? The realization startled him. He had never expected to form such a powerful demon—perhaps a demi-Gralith at best.

In response, Zul displayed his profile, revealing the latest changes.

|—————————————|

Name: Yur Ashkavaal

Age: 10

Title: Lord of Zulmasharr, Shepherd of Demons

Demon Cultivation: Vashra

Human Cultivation: Nascent Orb

Bloodline: Severed Ashkavaal

Orb: Cinerath; Severed Ashe

Demons: 1

Demon Points: 2512 (+100/Day)

Human Points: 631 (+100/Day)

Sanity: 2/100 (>50 = Insanity!)

Map

Shop (New!)

Memories (New!)

Demons (New!)

Quests (New!)

|—————————————|

Seeing his Demon Points jump so high was surprising, but one detail stood out even more: under Demons, a new number now appeared—a solid one.

[First Official Demon!]

[Reward: +1000 Demon Points!]

[Gralith Demon Slave!]

[Reward: +500 Demon Points!]

[Demon Points: 4012]

With these extra rewards, his demon point total surged, opening up far more possibilities in the shop. Normally, that would have been anyone’s main focus: over four thousand Demon Points could buy an array of powerful items or rituals.

Yet Yur, even in his ragged state, was wholly fixated on the demon he had just created. The presence of that one demon in his profile meant far more than an influx of points—it marked the successful birth of a Gralith under his command. Even if his body was battered, if his eyes were blind and his hearing gone, the data told him everything he needed: the Ritual had worked!

|—————————————|

Name: N/A

Age: 0

Demon Cultivation: Gralith

Rank Up: 0/10000

Bloodline: Shrieking Eye

|—————————————|

Zul, what do you mean by ’first official’? Yur’s mind returned to a previous notification about a Tharok demon he’d briefly formed. Didn’t I get an alert for a Tharok as my first demon? Did you get it wrong?

[The Tharok was killed soon after birth. It was never fully assimilated into the Host’s control!]

I see, Yur mused inwardly. Though not entirely clear, he supposed it didn’t matter. He’d received the rewards then, and that was all that mattered. But how did I create a Gralith? Usually, I should’ve ended up with something weaker, right?

[Because the Host’s limbs and lifeblood were used, the demon was empowered. The Host is advised not to repeat such actions—it may have severe long-term consequences!]

Though the explanation made some sense, it still surprised him. Yet another problem soon arose: How was he supposed to leave and heal? Ris had gone elsewhere—no pills were left—and Bahiraths were all the way back at the Barren Canyon, which was quite far.

His wings, arms, and senses were gone. He couldn’t see or hear.

Zul, what do I do? Ever since the Ritual of the Successor, Zul was his only reliable guide. But that ritual no longer existed to save him.

[Host’s body is too heavily damaged for normal healing methods. Pills, Bahirath, rituals...none can restore Host’s body to normal!]

Huh? Is this a longterm issue? Yur wondered, recalling how he’d only just gained freedom and power, yet suddenly found himself plunged into permanent darkness.

[There is only one way for the Host to recover!]

What is it? He pressed calmly, despite the flicker of alarm in his mind.

[Rank up!]

[Upon evolution, Host will unlock true Ashkavaal abilities!]

No alternative? That was never part of his plan. How could he do anything, crippled and blind?

[Unless the Host has a million Demon or Human Points to purchase the ’Ritual of Flesh Steal,’ or obtains a high-grade miracle medicine, the only option is to rank up!]

Obviously, neither of those were feasible. Then what could he do until then?

[The Gralith demon is now the Host’s slave. It will obey the Host completely!]

But I can’t speak. My throat’s destroyed too. During that battle, his body had sustained unimaginable trauma—sheer overconfidence had cost him dearly.

[Name the Gralith. Once it’s named, it will be fully linked to the Host!]

Yur gave a mental nod. Thinking of a simple name, he drew a blank.

[Host should craft a name using the ’Kha’Zaruun’ Ashkavaal ritual language. Doing so will further strengthen the Gralith!]

I can’t speak that language, though. He felt a brief pang of annoyance. If he’d been able to learn it properly, he would’ve done so already.

[Shall I suggest a suitable name?]

Yes, do it. He inwardly braced himself, waiting for the system’s next lines—aware that a single name might shape the new demon’s identity and power.

[⨒⨐⨤⨪⨢⨨⨨⩀]

[Jisvruul]

Jisvruul...? He tested the name silently. Despite his severed senses, he found it strangely resonant, a fittingly eerie choice.

He still couldn’t see what Jisvruul looked like—the world lay in unbroken darkness for him—but the name itself pulsed with a power he recognized immediately. He had no doubt it suited a Gralith of the Ashkavaal bloodline.

[Gralith Named: ⨒⨐⨤⨪⨢⨨⨨⩀ ; Jisvruul!]

|—————————————|

True Name: ⨒⨐⨤⨪⨢⨨⨨⩀

Demon Name: Jisvruul

Age: 0

Demon Cultivation: Gralith

Rank Up: 0/10000

Bloodline: Shrieking Eye

Abilities

Blind Wail

Fractured Howl

Weeping Eyes

|—————————————|

At last, he completed that step, sensing a new bond between himself and Jisvruul.

So I can have him actually live inside my Cyralim? The discovery was startling. Unlike most demons, it appeared Yur’s creations could reside in his Cyralim, ready to be summoned at will. Potentially, he could collect countless demons there, then unleash them to devastate foes.

For now, Jisvruul—the newly born Gralith—was strong enough, even if inexperienced. Yur needed it to handle everything while he remained too crippled to move. He had lost precious time already, and the Mother of Pus awaited.

At this point, his body was little more than a battered shell. Though not dying, he was incapable of action. It all depended on Jisvruul now.

[Host is recommended to reside in Jisvruul’s stomach.]

Yur felt mild distaste at the suggestion, but had no better option.

Jisvruul, swallow me and protect me, he commanded silently.

Instantly, he felt multiple bony hands grasp him. His ruined limbs offered no resistance as his whole frame slid into a slimy cavity. The space around him tightened with slick warmth, a liquid press enclosing him from all sides.

He had taken refuge inside Jisvruul’s stomach—a disturbing yet necessary measure if he hoped to reach the Mother of Pus alive.

————————————————————————

"To think Olmi would die in such a manner..." In Afloria, two elderly men hovered in midair, gazing down at a vast, abysmal crater. The sky around the rupture was in ruins—cracks splintered through the heavens, lightning crackled randomly, and green flames burst sporadically from the ground.

"He did what was necessary." The second old man spoke with a solemn tone, hand raised in salute to the destruction below. "His sacrifice claimed a Demon King, and that’s no small feat."

Facing down a Demon King was typically impossible for mortals unless a rank-nine cultivator or a Human Lord stepped in. Yet Olmi, a regular rank-eight, had somehow made it happen—at the cost of his life.

"A tale for the younger generation," the first elder mused, voice heavy with respect. "A man of humble beginnings, reaching such heights...and departing in a blaze of glory."

Their eyes shifted to the ground, where a lone figure stood amid the chaos. Dark energy rippled around him, yet he stood motionless, fists clenched tightly. Despite the raging fires and storming lightning, he remained unscathed.

"Sect Leader Olmi..." the man’s whisper carried an undercurrent of grief. "It’s my fault you died this way—laying down your life to save the rest of us...to save me." Tears streaked his face, shining against the lightning. Anguish and anger contorted his features as he gazed at the ruins.

He lifted both hands and slammed them into the earth with a thunderous impact, carving a deep fissure into the scorched ground. Flames danced around his form, but they made no move to harm him.

"I promise, I’ll kill every last demon!" The vow tore from his throat, raw with sorrow and rage. Black lightning sparked around his body, crackling in the smoky air.

Without a backward glance, he turned and walked away, the deadly arcs of lightning flickering with each determined step.

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