Chapter 9: The Devil's Whisper
The moon hung low, casting an eerie silver glow across the rugged cliffs of the Vale of Tears—a cursed land steeped in blood and secrets. Few dared cross it, and even fewer returned. It was said to be haunted by the remnants of ancient cultivators, those who had failed their heavenly ascension and become abominations bound to the physical world.
But Ethan walked forward without fear.
The stone beneath his boots cracked slightly under each step. The once-hazy weakness in his limbs had vanished since the incident with the Silverclaw bandits. His body had undergone another transformation—one less visible than his previous evolutions but more profound. His senses sharpened. His perception widened. The whispers of mana in the air bent toward him, as though eager to be commanded.
And still, he was unsatisfied.
"Is this all?" he muttered, flexing his fingers. The veins under his skin pulsed with black-gold light, the manifestation of his mysterious energy coiled tightly like a beast waiting to pounce.
"No," he answered himself, smiling coldly. "Not yet."
The Vale's path eventually led to an abandoned shrine—crumbled columns and shattered idols. Time had stolen its purpose, but not its power. Ethan stepped inside. The air felt heavier here. Older. The energy was... different. Tainted.
His golden eyes shimmered in the dim light.
There was something watching him.
Suddenly, a pulse of energy slammed into him like a fist, not physical but spiritual. His vision blurred. The walls twisted, colors inverted, and his balance vanished. Ethan dropped to one knee.
From the shadows emerged a woman.
Or what once was a woman.
She floated inches above the ground, draped in tattered violet robes, her once-beautiful face now a ghastly mask of rot and ruin. Yet even in decay, she exuded a sensuality that made Ethan's heart stutter. Her form—despite the corruption—retained the curves and grace of someone once adored, once worshipped.
Her voice, when it came, was honey wrapped in death.
"Child of Null. You stink of Aether... yet you walk like a man."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. "You know what I am?"
"I know what you could be."
She circled him, the hem of her robe trailing a mist of decayed petals. "You are the storm and the silence. The end and the seed of a new beginning. You are... temptation."
Ethan smirked. "I'm also impatient. Get to the point."
The woman paused, her half-rotten face twisting into a knowing grin. Her decayed fingers reached out and trailed along his jaw, and despite himself, Ethan shivered.
She leaned close. "There is power in corruption, Ethan Walker. There is growth in ruin. I was once like you—gifted, beloved, feared. I dared to reach the Origin Realm... and failed."
Ethan studied her carefully. "You're a Fallen."
She chuckled, low and haunting. "Not quite. I am... a fragment of what came after. My name is Lilith. I was the High Priestess of the Temple of Stars. Now, I am a whisper in the dark. And I have seen your future."
"Go on."
"You crave power. The world will kneel. Women will open their legs at your command. Kingdoms will fall for your name. But none of that will matter when the Elves come. When the Emerald Lords take notice. They will fear your energy. They will seek to dissect you, destroy you, or..."
"Control me," Ethan said softly.
Lilith smiled. "Exactly. But I can help you evolve. I know how to draw out more of that energy inside you."
Ethan raised a brow. "What do you want in return?"
Lilith's smile turned wicked. "A taste. Just a taste of what you are. A kiss of that forbidden essence."
Ethan took a moment.
She was dangerous. Twisted. Possibly insane.
But his instincts screamed that she was telling the truth.
He stepped closer, gripping her chin with one hand. "Fine. But if you bite me..."
Her smile widened. "Darling, I'll do far worse."
Their lips met. It was not a kiss of passion—it was a ritual, a siphoning. His energy surged forward against his will, swirling into her like molten fire.
Lilith screamed.
Her body convulsed, and Ethan felt it—the pull of something ancient. She wasn't merely drawing power. She was unlocking a seal within herself, one long buried.
She collapsed to her knees, gasping.
"You... fool...!"
The shrine shook.
From the center of the room, a black spire erupted, ancient runes glowing red-hot along its surface. Ethan stepped back, watching as Lilith's form began to stitch itself together—flesh returning to bone, skin smoothing.
She was becoming whole again.
And beautiful.
Curvy, voluptuous, with raven-black hair flowing down her back and eyes like amethyst fire. Her breasts strained against her tight new robes, her ass full and round beneath her ceremonial sash.
Ethan blinked. Hard.
"That... wasn't expected."
She grinned. "You're lucky I'm not hungry enough to devour you right now."
He grinned back. "You're lucky I'm not horny enough to try you right now."
A beat passed.
Then they both burst into laughter.
By nightfall, they sat around a flickering flame in the ruins. Lilith explained that the spire was a conduit—an ancient relic that predated most cultivation methods. It fed off the world's natural energy and stored memories of battles, allowing one to experience them mentally and physically.
"You mean I can train without dying?"
"More or less," she said, sipping from a conjured goblet. "But it's dangerous. The memories can overwhelm you. You're not just watching—you're becoming the one who fought. If they died... you feel it."
Ethan nodded. "Then I need it."
"It'll hurt."
"Good. Pain teaches."
Lilith tilted her head. "You're insane. I like that."
He stood, approaching the spire. "Then teach me."
The moment his hand touched the black stone, the world vanished.
He found himself in a desert.
Two suns burned overhead. In the distance, towers of obsidian clashed with armies made of silver. He wore armor he didn't recognize and held a weapon not forged by human hands. His body moved instinctively.
Memories not his own flooded in.
A name—Kael'thar.
He was a warlord from a Stellar-ranked planet.
His cultivation? Early Origin Realm.
"Shit."
A monstrous being roared toward him, wings of fire, claws like obsidian sickles. Ethan didn't think—Kael'thar did.
They fought.
And Ethan learned.
The battle lasted what felt like hours.
When he returned to his body, he collapsed to the ground, vomiting blood. Lilith was there, catching him.
"You idiot... that was too much for your realm."
He looked up at her, grinning through the blood. "I survived."
She stared at him.
Then she kissed him.
This time, it wasn't a ritual.
It was hunger.
They didn't make love that night. But the tension burned like wildfire.
Lilith had begun as a whisper, a ghost of ambition past. Now, she was whole. Powerful.
And his.
She swore fealty—not through ritual, but through desire. Ethan's energy had restored her, but more than that, it recognized her.
In her presence, his evolution accelerated.
Lilith became his first true companion in this world—lover, mentor, shield.
Together, they would reshape the power structures of this planet.
And this was only the beginning.
Because Ethan Walker was done hiding.
The Supreme Universe had taken his family.
It had taken his world.
Now it would give him everything.
Or burn.