AN: It's a confusing cliff at the end, folks, but next chapter reveals the race of the "demons", and it's not what you'd think.

Would also like to know what everyone would like to see/read when the MC gets knocked down a peg or two. Having a bit of difficulty coming up with it, now that it's progressed thus far. Should he be knocked down a peg? Should he just mellow out, then go crazy at another point before finally being knocked down a peg? I would rather like to have an idea or two before writing, please.

As always, thank you for reading thus far. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, let me know down below.

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Death and Child appeared within a few days, and had an odd procession behind them. As it turns out, this procession of beings were the ones taking up residence inside the tomb, and had been invited to stay within near my cathedral. I had found out, via bird, these beings were cultists, and worshiped a long dead god. Of whom was personally slain by the humans' god and armies.

This god, who went by the name of "Conquest", was one of four beings who caused death, destruction, and the end of all things good and pure, lawful and chaotic. Their main goal in life, was to find a way to resurrect their god, and bring an end to the humans' reign once and for all. Although their passion was there, and I commended them for it, the revival of a deity was not something mere mortals could do. No, they would need the help of another god.

However, many, who had clearly lost their minds, believed their god called "Conquest" was already among the living, and had been seen multiple times within the castle next to my home. They were fanatical about such things, and desired to meet and worship it. Unfortunately, their little cult was on a list of people, groups, and organisations that must be killed off as soon as they are found. Thus, they did not appear before my skeletal person until now.

My skeletal form sat upon a gilded throne of enchanted iron, as I was opposed to it being of any precious metals. Even though I dislike the attention and title of "god", I did relent in a few items. Such as the throne for which my body sat upon. The enchantments laid upon it were to strengthen it as much as possible, and I had to take care not to sink my claws into the armrests, nor allow my ribs to touch it. You would ask me 'Why?', it is because they were coated in my acidic poisons, and I desired not to go through the process of having the throne retrofitted once more.

There were around thirty, or so, individuals wearing tattered and faded dark, hooded robes. Although a few had claw-like hands and feet, it did not shed light upon who they were. Well, it wasn't until one of them tripped and fell, did those nearest see what race did the individual belong to.

"Demon," shouted one of the newest Undying, who unsheathed their swords, and charged towards the fallen being. However, before that one could swing down, something fell from above, slicing the young Undying vertically in half. The two pieces of the bodies fell, as a look of horror was seen upon the corpse's face.

The one who slew the young Undying was none other than Death. However, there was something strange about his appearance. You see, the day before the procession was to come, he was given a vial of my viscous mana to drink. Once he removed his mask, and before he reverently drank from the vial, I noticed that he was naught, but a boy of maybe fourteen cycles old. How he became an assassin would have been a wondrous tale, but alas, I would not hear of it.

No, but once he drank from the vial, his entire form began to shake and convulse. The boy then began to scream in pain, as the flesh of his back began to stretch and tear. This was so, because a pair of beautiful, white wings had grown from his shoulder blades. However, the magicks contained within the vial was not done, and a shroud of violet and crimson lightning enveloped his body. Once again, he screamed in pain and anguish, as the magicks began to tear apart his flesh, organs, bones, and blood.

Even though all could see his body being torn asunder, not a drop of blood, a shred of flesh or organ, nor a shard of bone fell upon the earth at our feet. The magicks did consume it all, and from it all, it began to remake his body. He now stood as tall as Child, who was nearly two metres in height, and was as much a skeleton as he. What is more, Death had a boney pair of wings, and this allowed him to take flight for a time.

For now, though, he stood tall, wearing only a non-hooded white robe, and clutched a now blood smeared scythe in his bone-clawed hands. Crouching down, he leapt forward, gliding to the right side of my throne, just as Child appeared to the left. He also wore a non-hooded robe, but the colour was of darkest night, as was his own scythe. "Those who are invited to my house and home," my own voice shook the cathedral, and I extended a clawed finger towards the fallen "demon", "are protected by my own hands."

Above us came a melodiously haunting voice that caused the earth beneath the "demon" to shake and rise up. The being squawked in fear, as it was lifted and set down upon its own clawed feet. This was followed by a short battle among the Undying, but I do believe it could be considered as a slaughter. This was because many of those who had just joined wished to end the "demons" that had appeared within the cathedral. The rest, of whom were four-armed and my own thralls, began cutting them down before our eyes.

This was a purging of the ranks, and nothing more. For you see, there had been many whispers among the newer Undying. Talks of insurrection had reached my ears, and those responsible were gathered up while placed near my person during this meeting. The group before us was already suspected to have at least one "demon", and it was my desire to know of their reactions when one, or all, were revealed. Those who showed aversion towards them were to die, while all others were to be enthralled.

However, all had perished under the rising and falling of swords and shields of my four-armed Undying. This caused my person to sigh heavily within my mind, then turned my attention towards the thirty, or so, robed beings that came into my home. "I welcome you to my house and home," my voice, once more, shook the building to its core. Pray, tell me, where is the castle's torturer. He was seen among your number, but is not present."

"Our Brother of Blood is no longer among the living, great lord," came the reply of one among their number. This hooded individual stepped forward, and revealed himself to the world. Or perhaps I should say, herself, as she was a human female, albeit a tad old.

Although she was old, her back was not bent towards the earth as many are prone to do. No, her back was straight, but her hair was of iron grey in colour, and I did believe, at that time, that her time to leave this plane of existence would be soon. You may ask how I know of this, and it is because she began to cough greatly after she spoke. Flakes of blood could be seen upon her hand, as she did try to shield it from the world.

"Magister," cried out many among the group, as she fell to the ground. I, on the other hand, simply raised a foreclaw from my right hand, as it was resting upon the armrest of my throne. In mere moments, a naked skeleton was seen carrying a wooden box whose contents clinked with each step. It knelt in front of my person, and I reached into the box to pull out a vial of viscous mana.

"I have heard whisperings of your group," I rumbled slowly, causing all, but the Undying and Undead to stare upon my person. "They say you worship a long dead god, and hope to bring him back to life." The vial was lifted towards my right eye, which caused the Undying to stare at it with hunger in their gazes.

For you see, these Undying were given a vial each, and tasked to drink it. It was thusly because I had desired 'Guinea Pigs' for my experiment. Each then downed the tincture, and each and every one soon fell to the ground whilst screaming in pain and anguish. Various forms of the magicks within the vial then appeared all around them, changing the entirety of their being into something monstrous.

Most became iron-skinned version of the creatures they modeled their armours after, while the rest because miniature versions of my skeletal self. However, those who became liken unto my own form, were not of bone, but of iron. What is more, those few had grown an extra pair of arms, if they hadn't already had a pair grafted onto their person already.

They had stared up at my vial of viscous mana because, in their own minds, it was liken unto an addictive drug, and desired more of it. However, they would be denied more after an incident with one of their number. For you see, I did desire to know what would happen if one were to drink from another vial, and gave it to a random Undying. This Undying then drank from it with great haste and greed, only to scream a great and haunting scream. He had continued to scream, even as his entire body began to melt into a puddle of flesh, bone, and iron. Once he was a puddle, however, the magicks within the second vial began to erupt all around the pool, evaporating it until there was nothing.

Thus, each would hunger for another vial, but each would be denied on pain of a torturous death.

My eyes then turned away from the vial, placing it back into the box, and towards the group of robed individuals who shuddered under my gaze. "What if I told you I would destroy the humans' gods, and all of their followers would perish along with them? What then? Would you forsake your god to follow me?" In my own mind, I grinned down at them, as many began to whisper amongst themselves.

"What if I said, 'If you follow me, then you would no longer need to hide in shadows, and can walk openly in the light'? Would you still cling to your dead god of old; do you miss the days when you were not constantly running and hiding within the shadows?"

A few amongst their numbers stepped forward, expressing their desire to no longer be on the run. This was said, much to the dismay of their "Magister", who began pointing and chanting some sort of spell. ">," I intoned within my mind, as one of my clawed hands shaped itself as though it were choking someone in front of my being.

This "Magister" gasped for breath, and clawed at the invisible hands that squeezed her neck. After a time, she fell to the ground, coughing and spitting out blood onto the ground. What was truly odd about the scene was not the fact that I had attacked what appeared to be their leader, but the fact that many began to strike her repeatedly with fists and feet. "How odd," I mumbled to myself, and looked down upon Death and Child. They were now staring at the scene with heads cocked to one side. It seems they, too, were as confused as I was, and we continued to watch the scene play out.

It continued until a couple were breathing hard, as they had brought over a stone slab from somewhere, and dropped it upon the old woman's head. All present began to shake at what they had done, whilst a few dropped to their knees with elated tears running down their faces.

"Will you be explaining why all participated in the killing of an old woman, or will this be a test to try my patience?"