"Hah!" The person gasped as they raised their head, their eyes snapping open instantly.
He looked around, taking in the details of the room calmly. Red paintings with faint golden sheens.
Silver orbs that floated as if gravity had no command over them.
He looked down, seeing the bed he sat on. A bed that was the size of three king sized beds, and a room the size of a mini stadium.
"Where am I?" The person muttered quietly as they tried to assess the situation calmly. "If I am here, does that an I did not die from the gunshot?" He wondered aloud, his lips curling into a smile.
"I knew my body would hold till I got treatnt," he added with excitent. "I can get my revenge on the person who shot ."
But his excitent was cut short when he felt a sting in his head. Before he could even process the pain fully, it flared like a truck had hit his head.
He convulsed, falling back to the bed limply. He could not even move a single part of his body; he could only endure the pain, without being able to scream or hold anything.
A minute passed with no sign of the pain easing. It felt like his head was being broken and remade at the sa ti. Then ca thirty minutes. It stretched into an hour, until signs showed. He could now control his body, weakly and slowly, but that did not stop the pain. The pain only reduced a little.
After another hour, the pain finally stopped.
The person sat upright again, their eyes red, holding back tears of pain.
"What are these mories?"
Flashes of a boy who had always been called a loser, and mories about demons and angels. Visions of cores and bloodline powers.
"What is going on here?"
[Ding! The Ultimate Demon System has initialised.]
"Now this is just pure illusion. Maybe I am dreaming at the hospital," he tried to convince himself.
He pinched himself in the cheek, but there was no reaction.
[Congratulations, host, you have transmigrated to Omnis, a world with an infinite number of dinsions.]
"Does that an all the mories were true? Return to my world, I would rather die from a bullet than try to survive in this world."
[The host cannot return to his world as he has died there. But if he gets strong enough, he can cross dinsions and even create a new body for himself.]
"You snatch my soul without my permission, dump in this ruthless world, and now you are telling to beco strong myself. If I beco strong, why would I need to go back?"
[The host is not alone; the system will assist the host.]
"In what way?" He asked.
Before the system could reply, a soft knock ca from the door.
"What do you want?" He asked.
"Master Azrael, the third awakening ceremony is about to start," the voice ca from behind the door, soft and smooth.
Azrael’s eyes widened in shock. From the mory he had, he knew what the awakening ceremony was, but did not expect it to be today.
’No wonder he chose to kill himself, he was scared of failing again,’ he thought.
No matter how much he checked, he could not find the cause of Azrael’s death in his mory, so he ca to that conclusion.
"I will be there shortly," Azrael said, leaving the bed in a smooth motion.
He entered the bathroom, which was just a few feet away from his bed. The sound of water clashing against tile reverberated through the room.
Minutes slipped by before Azrael ca outside again. His face was clearer now, a human like face with a sharp jawline. His red hair curled atop his head beneath the two short, crimson horns that protruded from both sides of his head.
He walked to the mirror, admiring the beauty. But he did not like the horns.
"I will get used to it with ti," he sighed.
He picked up a white suit from his wardrobe. He wore it with white shoes, too.
"Why does he only have white suits here?" Azrael could not help but complain as he fit the shoe in perfectly.
For a demon that had red hair, eyes, and even horns, wearing white was a stark difference.
"But it looks kinda cool," he admitted.
He looked at himself in the mirror once more before walking out of the room.
In front of his door was a maid, dressed in a white gown and a silver jacket.
As she saw Azrael leave the room, she knelt slightly in respect. Even though he was weak and had no affinity, she did not have the right to disrespect a heir of the Malvorin clan, a direct descendant no less.
"Let’s go," Azrael said, assuming a commanding tone.
But he could not help but burst into laughter almost imdiately.
The maid looked at him, but she did not say anything.
’That was really stupid,’ Azrael thought as he stepped forward, walking towards the main hall under the guidance of his mory.
The maid trailed behind him, keeping a distance between them.
The hallway was painted black. A crimson carpet spread through every corner.
Maids were positioned after every pillar, making it easy for any person passing to call for one at any ti.
As Azrael passed them, they bowed to him.
To their surprise, Azrael replied with a gentle smile.
"Did a direct heir just smile?" One of the maids asked another who was positioned at an opposite pillar.
"I thought I was hallucinating, but even you saw it. It is probably because he is scared of the execution that cos with failing to awaken an affinity for the third ti," the maid replied.
They ended the discussion there.
Azrael reached the door to the main hall, double doors. They were huge and imposing. Even Azrael, who stood at an imposing 6’4, was easily dwarfed by the height.
He exhaled slightly, then pushed the door.
Pressure. His face twisted into discomfort as he felt it crush down on him.
On a high seat was Vorath, the patriarch of the Malvorin clan. To his right were three seats; each of the great elders, siblings of the previous patriarch, sat calmly. Their eyes were closed. They paid the entire hall no heed as if they were only here due to obligation.
On his left were seven seats, occupied by the elders of the Malvorin clan, the siblings of the current patriarch.
Then, before him were nine seats. Azrael’s siblings and the direct descendants of the Malvorin clan.
Scattered around were the children of the other elders, disciples, the knights, soldiers, butlers, and knight trainees of the Malvorin clan.
Everyone in the entire Malvorin clan, except the maids, had gathered here for just one thing: to witness the last awakening of the last child, Azrael Malvorin.
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