A thick beam of light fell from the Black Star containing the skill, Devour, and the moment Simon was baptized by this black light, he instantly lost consciousness.
He didn’t know it, but both his body and spirit were undergoing a transformation that would begin his path toward becoming the Demon God.
He slept for three whole days, and a lot happened in these three days.
The first was his mother’s concern and worry for his life. At first, she thought that the absorption of the blood essence would only take six hours at most. Because her knowledge was very limited and because she had never encountered or seen somebody absorbing a higher-grade bloodline before, she didn’t know what to expect.
She could only hope that Simon was alright.
But after twenty-four hours, she had no choice but to check up on Simon, and when she saw him lying on the ground without making a single movement, she feared the worst.
Fortunately, she saw that he was still breathing, although very faintly, or she would have asked for help and this would have increased the chances of people figuring out that Simon had stolen the vial of Devourer’s blood essence.
Seeing that Simon was unconscious but still alive, she decided to wait and have faith. She took care of his body, bathed him, and massaged his body so that he would not end up stiff.
She did all she could as a mother, but she was still worried and scared that Simon would not wake up.
Meanwhile, another frightening scene was going on in another part of the Duskfang Tribe.
Inside the Tribal Chief’s house was a demon who was chained upside down. His hands were spread apart, chained to two pillars that were in the room, and his legs were spread far apart while also being chained to the pillars in the room.
The demon was bloodied all over with cuts, bruises, and burns covering his body and face. One of his eyes was missing, and he was missing three fingers and three toes on each hand and leg. On his back was a series of marks caused by excessive whipping.
This demon was the thief that had stolen the Devourer’s blood essence, and he had been in this position for three days now.
Seated a few meters in front of the demon was the Merchant, Zaglur, who was holding a book in his hand with an indifferent expression. His ever-present smile was nowhere to be seen, and although he did not have an expression of anger, his current indifferent expression was terrifying to behold.
Kneeling beside the merchant was the Tribal Chief, Varkamon.
Immense sweat along with an expression filled with dread could be seen on his face as he bowed before the merchant’s feet.
"Lord Zaglur, please give us more time. I’m sure we’ll be able to make him talk very soon. He’ll definitely tell us where he hid the blood essence or who he gave it to. So please, please, just give us a little bit more time."
Zaglur slowly turned over to the next page of the book, and he continued reading for ten slow and arduous minutes in front of Varkamon.
However, Varkamon did not dare look up, move, or say a word. He remained in his position without saying a word.
Zaglur finally looked away from the book and looked at Varkamon, but he didn’t say anything at first. He looked at the chained and bloodied demon, and then he shook his head.
"He doesn’t know where the blood essence is. You’ve been torturing him for days now, and he’s not the type of demon that has the mental fortitude to withhold information when he’s being tortured. He wasn’t brought up or trained like that. If he knew where the blood essence was, he would have said so."
Varkamon trembled when he heard this, and although he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that the merchant was right.
He and his guards had been torturing the demon in the most brutal manner they knew without caring for his life, and this had been going on for days.
In fact, Varkamon would confidently say that the most creative and vicious methods of torture appeared in his mind these past three days, but despite trying so much, the demon never told them where the vial of blood essence was.
He admitted stealing the blood essence, and he also admitted wanting to escape the tribe as quickly as possible so that he could absorb it. He planned on abandoning his wife and two daughters since he knew that every second wasted increased his chances of being caught, but never did he know that from the moment he took the vial, Zaglur knew he was the thief.
The demon had even admitted crimes he had committed in the past, crimes neither of them cared about. The demon had begged so much, admitting every single detail about his entire life without hesitation, and he continuously said that he didn’t know where the Devourer’s blood essence was.
According to him, he thought he had it, but when he left the tribe, he realized that he did not. He believed that it was either stolen from him or it fell from his clothes when he was attempting to escape.
The demon had told them everything he knew, and Varkamon knew that the demon was not withholding any information about the blood essence.
But this was what terrified Varkamon, because if the demon was not with the blood essence...
Who was with it?
Was the person still in the tribe?
Or had the person escaped with the blood essence?
If at the end of the day they could not find the blood essence, Varkamon knew that his life and that of the entire tribe would be over.
The Merchant would wipe out the entire tribe, and his life as he knew it would be over.
He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die, especially when he had suffered so much at the hands of those above him.
"Please, Lord—"
Zaglur cut him off. "Enough. You can’t expect me to remain here until he spills out something he doesn’t know, right?"
To Varkamon’s horror, Zaglur stood.
"If you want something done, you better do it yourself."
"Please, Lord Zaglur. Please wait. Please have mercy on us. I beg of you." Varkamon stumbled as he pleaded while stretching out his hands in fear.
Zaglur looked at Varkamon with contempt and total indifference.
"A demon shows no mercy. You disgust me."
Zaglur waved his hand, and Varkamon combusted into flames.
His screams of terror and pain echoed throughout the entire tribe as Zaglur calmly and indifferently walked out of the building.