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Chapter 17 - Villain's Origin

Day Four through Six followed similar patterns across three more villages.

A village headwoman whose ambition outweighed her loyalty to the Duke – corrupted through promotion and authority.

A blacksmith whose struggling business needed capital – corrupted through generous loans with favorable terms and subtle obligation.

A minor noble managing a border fort – corrupted through exclusive trade partnerships and promises of political support.

Each one a small victory. Each one a person turned from their original path toward service to Damien's interests.

Each one bringing him closer to the power he needed.

[Day 4: +18 CP - Current Total: 486/500]

[Day 5: +22 CP - Current Total: 508/500]

The notification on Day Five made him stop.

He'd done it. Exceeded the requirement. He had enough.

Damien sat in his study that evening, staring at the System interface with his finger hovering over the purchase button.

DEMONIC MAGIC CORE (CORRUPTION TYPE): 500 CP

WARNING: This purchase is irreversible. Demonic corruption will begin immediately upon integration. Personality alteration is gradual but inevitable without strong emotional anchors. You will become more ruthless, more power-hungry, more willing to sacrifice others for personal gain.

Current Emotional Anchors: 1 (Elara Lightbringer - Moderate strength)

Recommended Minimum Anchors: 3 (for stable personality preservation)

Purchase? YES / NO

His hand hovered over "YES."

This was what he'd been working toward. Real power. The ability to protect himself, to handle threats his manipulation skills couldn't solve. The strength to matter when demons escalated and the hero's plot armor started overwhelming everything.

But the cost...

You will become more ruthless.

He'd already felt it this week. Looking at people as resources. Calculating their pressure points. Turning their virtues into vectors for corruption. It had been easy. Disturbingly easy.

And that was before demonic energy started actively changing him.

Elara's face flashed in his mind – her shy smile when she'd kissed his cheek, her vulnerable confession that she felt real around him, her hand finding his despite Sister Catherine's disapproval.

She trusted him. Believed he saw her as a person.

What would she think when the corruption started changing him? When ruthlessness became default instead of strategy?

[CLARIFICATION: The core amplifies existing tendencies, does not create new ones. You are already calculating and manipulative. The core will make those traits stronger and harder to moderate.]

"That's supposed to be reassuring?" Damien muttered.

[It is accurate assessment. The choice remains yours.]

He thought about Elara facing demons in the eastern territories with only the hero and Church guards as protection. Aldric was powerful but inexperienced. The Church was bureaucratic and slow to adapt.

If something went wrong – and everything in his experience said things would go wrong – she'd be vulnerable.

He could either stay weak and hope for the best, or become powerful enough to actually help if needed.

After all if she died, he fails his goal and gets locked in the original plot, damned to die to Aldric eventually. He couldn't let that happen.

The choice was obvious when framed that way.

Damien selected YES before he could reconsider.

The System interface flared with dark red light.

[PURCHASE CONFIRMED: DEMONIC MAGIC CORE]

[CP REMAINING: 8]

[INTEGRATING...]

Pain hit him like a physical blow.

Not surface pain – deep, fundamental wrongness as something foreign invaded his essence. He felt the core manifest in his chest, a seed of darkness taking root where his heart should be.

Then came the power.

It flooded through him in waves – cold, hungry, eager. His senses sharpened. His physical strength increased noticeably. And beneath it all, a whisper of alien thoughts that weren't quite his own but weren't quite foreign either.

Power. More power. Take what's yours. Crush those who oppose you. Make them kneel.

Damien gasped, gripping his desk as the integration completed.

[DEMONIC MAGIC CORE: INTEGRATED]

[NEW ABILITIES UNLOCKED:]

[- Shadow Manipulation (Rank F): Control darkness and shadow]

[- Fear Aura (Rank F): Project intimidation supernaturally]

[- Corruption Touch (Rank F): Drain energy and vitality through contact]

[- Demonic Regeneration (Passive): Accelerated healing]

[PERSONALITY BASELINE RECORDED]

[CORRUPTION PROGRESS: 0.1%]

[WARNING: Corruption increases with power usage and immoral actions]

[Current Anchors: Insufficient for long-term stability]

The whispers faded but didn't disappear entirely. They settled into the background of his thoughts, a constant presence urging dominance and acquisition.

Damien stood slowly, testing his new strength. His body felt different – more capable, more dangerous. He could feel shadows in the corners of the room responding to his attention, eager to be shaped and used.

This was real power.

And it terrified him how good it felt.

He spent the next hour experimenting carefully. Shadow manipulation was intuitive – darkness bent to his will, forming simple shapes and tools. The fear aura was harder to control, flickering on and off as emotions shifted.

Corruption touch he didn't test. The description was clear enough – it would drain life energy from living things. That was a line he wasn't ready to cross yet.

Yet.

The word hung in his mind uncomfortably.

A knock at his door made him dismiss the shadows instantly.

"Young master?" Margaret's voice. "There's a messenger from the eastern territories. Says it's urgent."

Damien's blood went cold. "Send them in."

The messenger was a young Church courier, travel-stained and exhausted. He bowed quickly.

"Lord Valcrest. I was instructed to inform you – the Saintess's investigation team was attacked. Demons in organized force. Casualties among the guards." He paused, swallowing hard. "The Saintess and her remaining escort have fortified in Rothval village ruins. They're requesting immediate reinforcement from your mercenaries."

Everything else became background noise.

Elara was in danger.

Real danger, not theoretical timeline correction or political maneuvering. Demons had attacked specifically targeting the investigation team.

"How long ago?" Damien demanded.

"Two days. I rode straight through – "

"Prepare my horse. Full riding gear." Damien was already moving, grabbing weapons, traveling supplies. "I leave in ten minutes."

"My lord, the demons – you can't go alone – "

"I'm not asking permission." He met the courier's eyes, and something in his expression made the young man step back. "The Saintess is in danger. I'm going. Now tell me everything about the attack."

As the courier described demon numbers, attack patterns, casualties, Damien felt the core pulsing in his chest.

'Good. Combat. Power.'

He pushed the thoughts down, focusing on strategy. Rothval was three days' hard ride. With his new physical enhancements, he could make it in two if he didn't stop.

Elara needed help.

Everything else was secondary.

"Young master," Margaret appeared with travel provisions. "You're certain about this?"

"Completely." He checked his sword – the old one would have to do, no time to purchase better. "If my father asks, tell him I'm handling estate business in the south."

"He'll know that's a lie."

"Let him." Damien headed for the door. "I'll deal with consequences when I return."

'If you return,' the demonic whispers suggested. 'But you're stronger now. Fast. Dangerous. Show them.'

He mounted his horse as staff assembled in confused concern. A noble didn't ride alone into demon-infested territory. It was suicide.

But he wasn't just a noble anymore.

He was something new. Something dangerous.

Something that would reach Elara before she fell.

Damien kicked his horse into a gallop and rode east into gathering darkness, the demonic core burning cold in his chest and shadow magic flickering at the edges of his vision.

Behind him, the estate faded into night.

Ahead, demons waited.

And somewhere between the two, a saintess held her ground against overwhelming odds, unaware that salvation was coming.

Wearing a face she trusted, powered by darkness she didn't know existed.

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