The Demon Monarch System

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A wave of energy originating from a position not too far from Apollo burst forth. The surge caused billowing winds which gained Apollo's attention. After Fuhrer dealt with the other Glories in one stroke, Lazaro had reached his breaking point, pretty much losing all reason.

Under normal circumstances, this type of reaction wouldn't be related to much, other than desperation. However, despite his manic screams, Lazaro didn't seem to have completely lost his mind.

On the contrary, two dark swirls shone within Lazaro's eyes, matching the Spirit which was appearing behind his back. As the shadow of the Spirit crept up his figure, a hazy shade concealed Lazaro. It wasn't a normal shadow, it was manipulated by the whims of the Spirit.

"Do you submit now?" The Spirit questioned, peering down at Lazaro with a lofty gaze. Even though Apollo and the others stood right there, the Spirit acknowledge their presence. Instead, it seemed like he was focused on Lazaro alone.

However, Apollo noticed something amiss with this exact Spirit, 'Why does this thing feel so familiar? It's not quite like Destrys, but the feeling of darkness is similar. Could this Spirit be related? Then again, why would a Spirit like that choose Lazaro?'

Although the Spirit wasn't anywhere as strong as Destrys, it used the same type of darkness; extremely pure and potent. Based on this, it was confirmed that this Spirit was something more than a normal Spirit, perhaps it was even a Heroic Spirit!

With the appearance of Destrys, it wasn't too unusual for other Spirits to disobey the Grand Spirit Council's edicts as well. Especially so for Spirits who were wicked and corrupt in nature. Though, for such a Spirit, the Grand Spirit Council usually rescinded control over them, labeling them as rogue existences. 

Nevertheless, since Lazaro felt his fate was sealed regardless, he finally gave in to something his family warned him to never perform. "I know why you chose me… and I submit."

"Very well, you will become my avatar. You will have the power of a Spirit after you sign your life over to me. Don't worry, I take care of all my vessels. Otherwise, eternal life would be outside of my grasp. Now, accept the power of Erebane!" 

A warped orb filled with iniquitous energies encased Lazaro, hiding his body from sight. Before he disappeared completely, a tinge of madness appeared upon his face. Afterward, even the energy signature from within was masked, leaving everyone who bore witness curious.

On the other hand, Lazaro roared in endless pain while within the orb. In truth, he was dreading his birth at this point.

Unlike the other families, the Astarte Family would sometimes give birth to individuals bearing a bizarre constitution. There wasn't much information behind it at first, but as the constitution appeared more often, the Astarte Family compiled an extensive breakdown.

First and foremost, the constitution was named the Saintly Bind Constitution. In other words, some of the Astartes were born with the innate ability to bind with an entity of another race. In this case, it was the Spirits.

Furthermore, there were variations in this constitution. Some of them possessed higher limitations while others possessed more stringent requirements. In this case, Lazaro fell into the latter group. 

Unlike the rest of the Astarte Family, which usually formed contracts with Spirits of the Light attribute, Lazaro was an exception. In fact, he was an anomaly seen only once in a generation. Instead of the Light attribute, his affinity was Darkness; a direct opposition to the family's techniques.

Upon finishing the selection trial, his family thought he would have chosen the Vermillion NIght Academy. When it came to the techniques of darkness, their repertoire was unmatched. Yet, Lazaro decided against it. Instead, he journeyed to the academy his uncle staffed.

Naturally, this was so he could take advantage of some positions and coerce his uncle into delivering biased support. But, never did he believe that after opening his Soul Temple completely, he would chance upon an opportunity that reversed the shortcomings of his decision.

This wasn't the first time Erebane confronted him. When he first appeared before Lazaro, Erebane offered a few enticing techniques to curry Lazaro's favor. With his cunning scheme, Erebane sought to grow closer by indulging in Lazaro's dark desires, even assisting in some gruesome acts on campus.

During that time, Lazaro didn't realize Erebane was doing all this to create a stable platform in Lazaro's mind. And now, it was completed. In fact, it had been completed for quite some time, Erebane was just patiently biding for the moment to capitalize on.

After all, after committing a number of atrocious deeds, it was only a matter of time before those affected rose up and sought revenge. When the numbers swelled to unimaginable heights, only then would the fruits of Erebane's labor ripen.

Meanwhile, Apollo was going to react right as Lazaro's body was being encased, but Fuhrer stepped in. "Don't; allow him to change. I want to test something. Perhaps this will be worthwhile because I've noticed something—only strong beings allow you to grow. So, let's see the results of this union."

"Mm, if you say so," Apollo nodded, glancing in Fuhrer's direction with surprise. Although he never mentioned the operations of the system, it appeared Fuhrer had pieced together the information to form a rudimentary understanding of Apollo's progression. 

At the same time, Typhir tossed Aeon and Ains towards Apollo, looking at him with a suggestive look, "Do you wish to do anything special with them, my Lord?"

"Not at all, you can deal with them as you see fit," Apollo responded, waving his hand without care. Typhir nodded, producing another series of razor-sharp yet destructive tendrils.

Without another word, Typhir slaughtered them, decapitating them where they stood. After this happened, Apollo shifted his attention towards Valak and the others. As always, Valak was toying with his prey, tossing them around like a ragdoll while laughing hysterically.

Furcas, on the other hand, barely moved; always finding himself in the correct position. His opponent couldn't understand it! This guy was barely moving, yet somehow always managed to be in the right place. It was inexplicable.

"You seemed frustrated young man, what is the issue? Surely, you haven't given up, right?" Furcas chuckled, waving his pipe around in a taunting manner. His opponent grunted and dashed towards him yet again.

However, this time, Furcas stepped aside and smashed the underside of his pipe against his skull. "Tsk tsk, such trivial beings actually thinking to go against our Lord, how laughable. Well, this is boring enough. Why don't you disappear."

Suddenly, Furcas turned his pipe upside down, emptying the ash-like contents onto the dazed individual. The moment the ash touched their body, a flame was birthed but it emanated ghastly fluctuations instead of heat. Rather than being burned, it seemed as if the individual was decaying in the embrace of the flames.

"Ah, the one who peers through time understands its offsprings," Furcas said, issuing a quick bow before returning to Apollo's side. "It is done, my Lord."

"Good, you've done well," Apollo praised, turnings towards Jorgun and Zarkath. Both of them were returning to his side as a pile of deformed corpses remained where their respective fights took place. 

On the Glories' side. Only three people remained—the frozen Vellaria, stiffened by fear produced from witnessing the heartless display of ruthlessness. Then, there was Claire who was being toyed with by Valak. 

None of the techniques she employed posed any effect on Valak, laughing it off.

After witnessing this, Apollo grew bored. "Valak, bring her here."

Under the command of the Absolute Order, Valak was forced to oblige, eventually bringing Claire to Apollo with a disgruntled appearance.

"W-what are you doing? Please don't kill me. I don't want to die like the others," Claire pleaded, dropping to her knees with a pale expression. Yet, Apollo didn't even flinch at this display. On the contrary, Apollo smiled faintly. 

"Typhir, I believe you want to deal with this thing?" Apollo questioned, turning towards Typhir with a dull expression.

"Gladly," Typhir agreed. Before he walked towards her, he returned Brynhildr to Fuhrer. At the same time, he returned his greatsword to his back.

Claire's expression blanched further when Apollo advanced closer. She recalled their encounters as well as the feelings Typhir expressed for her. Of course, with her eyes set on Aeon and Lazaro, Claire ignored Typhir and even sometimes berated him alongside the others.

As a result, she opened with an apology, "T-Typhir...I'm sorry."

"Mm," Typhir grunted lightly, disregarding her apologetic pleas.

"Please don't kill me. I swear to be loyal to you!" Claire continued.

Unfortunately, Typhir's menacing smile scared her, "I don't need it, nor do I need you. Why don't you accompany your suitors in death."

Typhir reached out his hand to grab her neck, except his body froze in place outside of his own control.

"Ahhh, it's been a while since I've had a body. How enjoyable this is!"