Path To Godhood Begins With Marrying Wife And Gaining SSS Rank Skill - Chapter 420: Possession

Chapter 420: Possession

The moment the scepter struck the ground, the runes carved along its body began to glow.

A deep crimson light spread outward in slow circles, crawling across the stone floor like living veins. The chamber trembled faintly as the air grew heavier. The faint blue crystals embedded in the walls flickered under the pressure, their light wavering as if struggling to breathe.

The two demons hanging against the wall suddenly jerked awake.

Their bloodshot eyes widened in panic as they sensed something far worse than pain approaching.

“No… no…” one of them rasped, struggling weakly against the enchanted chains that bound his wrists and ankles. “What are you doing…?”

The other demon tried to roar, but it came out as a broken cough. Blood dripped from his lips and stained the floor beneath him.

Ethan stood still, his hand resting lightly on the scepter.

“Mareti,” he repeated softly.

The crimson glow intensified.

From the tip of the scepter, a thin line of dark red mist seeped out and coiled upward. The mist twisted and condensed, slowly forming a vague feminine silhouette in the air. Long strands of shadow flowed like hair around her shape, and two glowing eyes opened within the form.

A darker soul emerged from the scepter, emitting a deadly chill that spread across the chamber. Frost crept faintly along the stone floor.

The temperature dropped sharply.

Hall instinctively lowered his head. The Black Thorns stationed outside the chamber stiffened, their hands tightening on their weapons even though they knew better than to interfere.

The figure’s voice echoed softly, layered and distorted.

“You called.”

Ethan did not look away from the demons.

“Yes,” he replied calmly. “Extract what we need. See which one is to your liking, and also see if you can extract something useful.”

The demons began thrashing violently at those words.

“You promised!” one of them screamed hoarsely, his voice cracking in fear. “You said you would kill us quickly!”

Ethan’s expression did not change.

“I said I would consider it,” he answered coldly. “That depends on your cooperation.”

The shadowy figure drifted closer to the first demon. Thin tendrils of crimson mist extended from her form and pierced into the demon’s chest without breaking the skin.

The demon’s body arched violently.

A scream tore through the chamber, raw and desperate, echoing against the stone walls. The chains rattled loudly as the demon convulsed, his aura flickering uncontrollably as if being peeled apart.

Images began flashing faintly in the air near Mareti’s form.

Fragmented memories surfaced.

Scenes of demonic camps. Symbols carved into banners. Faces of commanders from the Demonic Continent. Maps drawn in blood, showing supply routes and hidden outposts.

Ethan’s eyes sharpened.

“Focus on command structure,” he instructed quietly. “And supply routes.”

Mareti obeyed without hesitation.

More memories surfaced, clearer now.

The second demon watched in absolute horror, trembling uncontrollably as sweat mixed with blood on his face.

“You monster…” he whispered weakly.

Ethan finally turned his gaze toward him.

“Hm… Are you playing the role of a fool?” Ethan asked calmly.

“Don’t you demons believe in the power of the fist?”

His voice carried neither rage nor excitement. It was steady and chilling.

The first demon’s scream slowly weakened, turning into broken sobs. His body went limp, though he still breathed faintly.

Mareti withdrew her tendrils.

“This one will survive,” she murmured. “Barely.”

Ethan nodded once.

“Good.”

He shifted his attention to the second demon.

Mareti’s glowing eyes moved slowly over both captives before stopping on one of them.

“I have looked over both of them,” she said softly. “I find the body of this one from the Sin Clan quite useful.”

His gaze greedily locked onto Damor.

Damor’s eyes widened in horror.

“You can’t!” he shouted hoarsely, struggling violently against the chains. “It is blasphemy!”

“How dare you covet the body of someone from Pride!”

His voice rose into a desperate scream.

“NO! NO! I am from the Pride Clan! You cannot defile me! You cannot touch me!”

The chains clanged loudly as he thrashed.

Mareti ignored his cries and slowly turned his gaze toward Ethan, as if silently asking for permission.

Ethan did not hesitate.

“Carry on,” he said, waving his hand nonchalantly.

Damor’s scream pierced through the chamber once more.

“STOP!”

But Mareti had already moved.

Crimson mist enveloped him.

The deadly chill deepened.

And the labyrinth below Blank City echoed with his screams.

SWOOSH!

The dark mist that surrounded Mareti suddenly flared outward and rushed straight toward Damor’s body under Ethan’s curious gaze.

Ethan narrowed his eyes slightly. He was genuinely curious about how Mareti would occupy the body. He had seen her extract memories and devour fragments of souls before, but fully taking over a living vessel was different.

The dark mist did not hesitate.

It surged forward like a hungry tide and slammed into Damor’s chest. For a brief second, nothing happened.

Then the mist began to tear apart and split into countless thin streams. Those streams forced their way into Damor’s body through every possible opening. They seeped into his mouth, his nostrils, his ears, even the corners of his eyes. Thin strands burrowed beneath his skin and disappeared into his flesh.

Damor’s body jerked violently.

“NO—!” he screamed, his voice breaking into a hoarse roar. “GET OUT! GET OUT OF ME!”

The chains rattled loudly as he thrashed against them with all his remaining strength.

“You filthy spirit! I am Pride! I am from the Sin Clan! You dare—AAARGHHHH!”

His scream rose into a high, desperate pitch as the mist flooded deeper into him.

Veins bulged across his skin. His eyes rolled back as his body arched unnaturally against the wall. Dark lines spread beneath his skin like cracks in glass.

“STOP! STOP THIS!” Damor roared again, his voice filled with raw terror. “KILL ME! JUST KILL ME!”

The mist ignored him.

Inside his body, something was happening.

From Ethan’s perspective, he could faintly perceive the spiritual clash. Through the subtle connection stamped onto Mareti’s soul, he sensed violent turbulence. Two forces were colliding inside that broken vessel.

Damor’s soul manifested faintly above his chest, a twisted dark shape struggling desperately against the engulfing crimson haze. It roared silently, its form flickering as it lashed out.

“I WILL NOT BOW!” Damor’s voice echoed faintly within the chamber, though his lips no longer moved properly.