The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

In any case, she seemed perfectly content to play ball.

"So, let me summarize." I was starting to realize how much better demon bureaucracy was. The demon explained everything several times and still hadn’t shooed me away yet. "You’re telling me these Absorption Stations will just let me steal a skill or knowledge base from a soul in my possession? And that I’ll perfectly inherit it all, just like that?"

I sounded eager, and I didn’t care.

I could have done so much more if I had the right set of skills. I could have avoided taking wounds. I could have racked up many more souls. I could have… well, okay, I couldn’t have gone up against one of the elite champion defenders to claim their souls, but there were still plenty of other opportunities I missed.

Besides, if the purple-skinned demon with gorgeous golden eyes was right, this convenience didn’t only apply to physical skills like brawling or swordsmanship. This also applied to things like mana manipulation, knowledge of mana training, or even mastery over specific spells.

All I had to do was kill a mage and find a station, and I could be slinging fireballs around!

"Yes, yes, I’ve told you that already, darling. Several times. Though you need to pay in souls to fuel the process. It’s not exactly free. Of course, at the station, you can scan the souls in your possession to find out what skills they possess, with no fees attached. And remember you’ll need to save some souls to fuel your growth."

There was that too. Such a funny way of referring to such a momentous thing. Growth.

Apparently, what they had done to us during our initiation was called ’planting the seed of the Abyss’ within our souls. I was still a human. We all were. But now we each contained a bit of transformative potential, a tiny sliver of what makes a demon a demon. If I fed it, the seed would gradually ’elevate’ my race.

In other words, so long as I kept sacrificing souls at the station, I could strip away my humanity and convert myself into a true demon. There was no guarantee about what level of demonic strength I would start off at, but the demonic teller’s implication was obvious: anything was better than being human.

Honestly, I couldn’t disagree. I noticed the looks other demons were shooting me. Their expressions ranged from utter disdain to the feelings usually reserved for one’s dinner. They clearly thought of me as a lesser creature, and on paper, they were probably correct.

According to the schooling Hayden had received, demons were literally ’higher order’ beings than base mortals. They were basically made of mana. Their bodies could take incredible amounts of punishment without faltering. And their minds could easily withstand the kind of magical research that would drive humans insane.

And, oh yes, they were virtually immortal.

To kill a demon, you would have to kill them on the mortal plane, then hunt them down in the Abyss and kill them there too. The Abyss, or Hell as everyone besides demons called it, is the source and home of all demon kind. Demons were even tougher in the Abyss than on the mortal plane. They were faster, and stronger, and more magically charged. They were just more, in every possible way.

So even if a human managed to kill a demon on the mortal plane, they had almost zero chance of hunting that demon down and achieving another victory on demonic home turf. Because of this, most true demon deaths were caused by… other demons.

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to charge over to the nearest station and throw all my souls in the name of growth. Growth meant demonic power. It meant having actual, legal rights in hell. It meant making myself a mighty immortal nuisance.

That was a remarkably tempting prospect.

But at the moment, I needed to move on.

"Thank you for all the advice. Really, I mean it." I injected as much sincerity as I could into the words, earning myself a coy giggle.

"Oh, don’t mention it, cutie. If you want to pay me back, hit me up when I’m done with my shift here." She batted her eyelashes rather aggressively. "Now, what would you like to do with your money?"

"I’d like to pay the invasion fee. Only that, for now." Digging into my bag, I hurriedly fished out the smallest ten souls I could find.

They all came from humans, so they were all, at a minimum, standard souls. From what she had told me, I would need to hunt down an animal or something similar to get a lesser soul, and even then, the creature would have to be incapable of wielding mana to be classified at such a low class.

Really, my chat with the demoness was enlightening.

And also considerably gross.

"Well, if you’re sure. Do keep my offer in mind," the demon flirted.

I kept the smile on my face, paid off the fees I’d accrued for the ’honor’ of getting shoved into a strange world to die, and tried not to sprint out of the bank.

Out of all of my original memories, I had kept one about my appearance. Before my original body kicked the bucket, I was a healthy man in his late twenties. And average on a good day. But I wasn’t in my original body. And the demoness’ words about my appearance dredged up some truly disquieting memories.

Hayden Hall, on the other hand, was a lean and tall young man, clocking in at an almost unnatural six feet and five inches. His roguishly handsome features paired extremely well with his baby blue eyes and short, velvety brown hair. He also looked like he was in his early twenties, but that was only thanks to whatever magical nonsense the demons used to make their soldiers mature faster.

Thanks to my newly awakened memories, I knew Hayden Hall was barely past the tender age of sixteen.

I shuddered when I thought about the predatory look in the demoness’ eyes, then shuddered again thinking about the likely age of the fellow soldiers I’d killed.

Then again, how did that change anything? Did it really make any difference in what I had done, or how I felt about it? Murder was murder, whether the people losing their lives were a few years older or a few years younger.

I tried to focus on walking and kept my mind as clear as I could manage. Thanks to detailed directions from the bank teller, I reached my destination in a matter of minutes.

I hated it on sight.

The Absorption Station was a perfect circle of churned up soil, seemingly just plopped down in the middle of the city. At the center of the circle stood a single operating chair. I didn’t need a sign to identify it as such. Tentacles swayed freely around the chair, each tipped by pliers, scalpels, strange spoons like ice cream scoops, and a host of other, more ominous implements.

I couldn’t see anyone within the circle, but that didn’t mean the station wasn’t in use. As I watched, a soldier crossed into the circle’s perimeter and vanished from sight.

The demoness had assured me that the process of getting augmented by the Absorption Station was extremely private. Not even a commander could barge in while I was in the middle of it. This was comforting, but did nothing to assuage my concerns over the operation itself.

Still, I had to do this.

With one final deep breath, I stepped inside the circle, taking the last step that separated me from my future accomplishments.

The world around me was ripped apart, flipped on its head, and then reassembled all wrong. The perfect circle of the Absorption Station was still the same, but looking trying to look outside it revealed only a kaleidoscope of disturbing sights and colors that my mind could not process beyond one ever-shifting splotch.

Once again, I almost lost my most recent meal.

Hayden Hall

Ascension progress: 1%

The words popped up in my vision. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the ’seed’ inside me, the ball of power the demonic recruiter had shoved into the body of Hayden Hall just before I woke up in that body. The seed’s mere presence had made subtle alterations to my being, but it was nowhere near enough to make me part of the demonic species.

Then and there, I realized that if I wanted to progress further down this path, I needed to pay the right price to bolster my advancement.

Feeling more than a little curious, I pulled out a soul from my bag.

Geoffrey

Known Skills:

Swordsmanship, shield mastery, cooking, cleaning, husbandry, sexual prowess

Knowledge Base:

Berlis, Kingdom of Beralion, Fortress City 12…

The knowledge section went on and on, listing every useful information group Geoffrey had absorbed during his life. By focusing on each entry, I found I could roughly gauge his proficiency in every skill. He was a decent shield user, a middling swordsman, and as a lover, well… the less said on that subject, the better. His wife had left him, if the knowledge group ’Local Law (Divorce Proceedings): Beralion’ was any hint.

And then I came along and killed him.

I winced a little at the sharp reminder. The only consolation was that I was pretty miserable myself, getting thrown into a war immediately after rising from the dead. Though I did get to rise from the dead in the first place.

"Okay, well, I’ve got about 148 souls. How hard could it be to find a useful skill or two to pick up?" I muttered, preparing myself for a slog.

As it turned out, finding worthwhile skills was… difficult. I didn’t mean to put myself down or anything, but all my victims had been people unskilled enough to be slain by me, a chump with zero previous fighting experience.

Sure, I had dregs of Hayden’s training left, and his instincts had served me wonderfully. But I must have lost most of his memories related to actual combat with a sword. That was the only explanation for my unimpressive abilities. After all, Hayden Hall was the top prospective recruit for the armies of hell. Whatever skill I had, it was nowhere near star-pupil levels.

This drove me to aim a little higher when searching for suitable souls to absorb. I had plenty of souls that would give me a respectable sword skill, but that was exactly the problem.

They were proficient. Competent. Nothing more.

I wanted actual skills that I could be proud of. Something to give me an edge in the heat of future battles because it didn’t seem like I would be able to avoid combat for very long. Not if I wanted to advance and eventually grasp some safety for myself.

So my search continued, one soul after another.

After what felt like hours, I finally picked out a grand total of two souls, each with one promising skill to absorb.

Mana Manipulation: Body Strengthening (Basic).

Swordsmanship: Dual Style (Greater).

Both names were kind of deceptive.

I wasn’t sure how they could call any level of Body Strengthening as basic. The sheer level of ability required to pull the technique off was entirely beyond me. From the technique’s description, I would need to spin up mana throughout my entire body, and then weave it into my muscles without overwhelming them. If I didn’t use enough power, the technique would tire me out faster without any notable benefits. If I used too much, I stood a real risk of shredding my own body. That meant training in the technique was a painful and arduous process if I wanted to progress quickly, or an excruciatingly slow one if I wanted to stay safe.

Much better to bypass all that work and just absorb this soul’s skill.

The Swordsmanship: Dual Style, on the other hand, didn’t really live up to its title. It wasn’t some heaven-sent, earth-rending technique that would let me wield two swords and sweep away all opposition.

The practice of the style began by forcing the user to develop ambidexterity. The training was a grueling thing, and only made practical by the fact that subtle mana use could speed the process along. After getting over that initial massive hurdle, the user would be able to switch their main sword from hand to hand freely, while also wielding a support weapon like a dagger. At least the greater tag gave me some hope, since it was one of the few skills above the basic level.

I chose this skill mainly because the soul seemed to have mastered it. And a nice added benefit was the prevention of any future disasters like the defenders in the tower situation. I would never have to be stuck, unable to wield my weapon properly, just because someone had designed their architecture to hinder right handed people!

I knew this was taking things a bit too far, and that the example was definitely niche. Maybe paranoia was beginning to put down roots in my mind. It didn’t alter my choice.

Souls selected, I had only one final barrier to overcome: actually forcing myself to sit down in the torture chair.

I looked at the weaving tendrils of sinew-like material and fought the urge to curse.

I lost.