Mind Demon's Path of Domination

The Armor praised, "A job well done."

Mark had not transformed Yuri back into a Hunter—he had just transformed her body enough to push out the Savage Heart Blood inside her. She was still a Golden Savage, but she no longer had the Heart Blood, which was the catalyst for her species-change, inside her.

He had used Clown’s Circus so that she wouldn’t have to suffer the unbelievable pain. But he didn’t transform her back into her Hunter constitution. That might make the World Will inside her go wild.

If she wanted her Hunter constitution back, she would have to wait till she left this world and the Will inside her dissolved.

"You are getting the knack of it," Reol’ran said.

This transformation that Mark made Yuri go through was not just changing the shape of a body using Alchemic Shapeshifting to match some other body. This was a more masterful use of such a great ability.

This kind of subtle art required a touch of professionalism gained through years of experience.

Unlike copying one body to match another, he had made one existing body push out one major component of itself without breaking down. Since Mark used it on Yuri, it also showed how confident he was in himself.

This was an ability that had immense, unlimited, potential. And now, he had some mastery of it. To Reol’ran’s slight surprise, the Armor’s keen eyes had also noticed the progress.

"This ability," War Slayer said. "Now that I think of it, I’ve seen something like it before."

Mark’s eyes glimmered. "Was it one of your wartime enemies?"

"Enemies..." The Armor shook its head. "It was one of my creators. He had a similar demonic trick which he treasured as one of his..." The creature frowned. "I cannot remember well. As if a veil is in my mind."

After a long time of silence, it sighed and looked at Mark. "Seems like there are mechanisms in my mind, still. Must be meant to make me not remember my creators—their images are a blur in my memories, too."

Mark had a distinct curiosity but Reol’ran squashed it.

"Don’t get nosy. You shouldn’t get involved with the business of creatures who invented this monster—even by just knowing their existence, you will build a small karmic connection with them. We do not want any such connection now."

Nodding inwardly, Mark asked the Armor, "So, what are your plans from now? Staying in this world to act as its savior?"

The Armor coldly stared.

Mark grew defensive. "...What? You want a fight?"

He was also itching inwardly, but he knew not to fight unnecessary battles. He had learned Alchemic Shapeshifting on a deeper level, so he understood his battle style would have some improvement—even though the enemy had Resistance to it.

But the Armor was too mysterious and he just wanted it to remain the good samaritan it seemed to have become after their fight. Yet, why had the vibes changed so quickly, what had made it so cold all of a sudden?

"It’s my luck," it said, lacking any friendliness whatsoever. "I don’t know, but the more I speak with you, the more my luck seems to be dwindling."

"Eh?"

It stood up. "Good luck in all your battles. Your bad luck is infectious, so I shall leave now. I do not want to be mixed into meaningless conflict and battles because of you after all."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Mark flew around to block the man. "What do you mean you are leaving after giving me such vital news?"

"Oh, when did getting my path blocked by anyone become so normal?" It asked and suddenly, an aura that seemed to dwarf the world burst out of it.

It was no longer the aura of a savage war machine that represented cosmic slaughter, it was now the aura of a man who had gone beyond war.

A man who had a sword only to keep it sheathed.

Mark chuckled, his whole body suddenly feeling much heavier.

Aura, it was just a presence. Even mortals had auras. A businessman who was winning it in the game would emanate an aura that was infectious and bustling, a wrestler would emanate the spirit of intimidation.

Mark himself had never cared about the aura. It was just a fleeting sensation with no power. But powerless as it may seem, a truly strong aura could make one understand the difference between a predator and prey.

Now, he understood. This Armor truly could kill him now. It was much, much stronger than before. But it had chosen to let him go, thus let him go it would.

"It’s not that serious, Old Man. Just tell me—what will this infectious luck thing do?"

"Your wife is a Heaven Soul, she should know. I have told you before—I have no intention of entering any battle anymore. To me, my luck is important. It barely counts to anything compared to a creature at my level to begin with, I do not want to lose it for some mutt I liked."

It began vanishing slowly, eyes and movement calm. To War Slayer, if there was no benefit from a relationship with Mark, it was fine. But if there was a loss to happen if he remained friends, leave he shall.

"I can tell you one thing, though," it said, looking calmly above itself. "I’ve never seen the River of Destiny being this cruel. It just means it hates you that much more than usual. I am no fortune teller, but I shall say: All your enemies from this moment will be incredibly lucky, and all your friends will start to suffer incredible misfortune."

Mark felt his heart sink. "What was the luck of my women like?"

War Slayer gazed at him, then sighed.

"In war, true battles happen before the fight begins. The fight is just the result. Beware."

The Armor vanished.

Reol’ran said: "If I am correct, the River of Destiny just started ruining the luck of people related to you. I cannot see ’luck’ since my main body is sealed, but if I am guessing correctly, you leaving for the Demon World now is a very bad idea."

"No!" Mark shook his head, growing calm as ice. "My luck is down? So what would happen if I remained here?"

He would stop growing stronger. He would stagnate. Meanwhile, his enemy would keep growing stronger. With how cautious even the Armor seemed, the concept of Luck seemed way more important than he had given it credit.

"This is a trap," he said with gritted teeth. "Indeed, it feels like I am being checkmated by the very world."

Mark had three choices now and all three were bad.

He had a Portal Key in his hand, but the World that the Key led to could become Tier 3 at any moment. And since his luck was down, he might get a very bad mission in that World and wouldn’t be able to leave before the Suffering begins.

The second option was to leave this World and enter back into the Demon World. But since he was going to be a magnet of bad luck, that was the worst place to enter. Giants might notice how their luck might improve if they became his enemies and would come to kill him.

The Armor hadn’t cared to improve its luck by becoming Mark’s enemy, but that wouldn’t be the same for everyone.

Mark had noticed the Armor’s consideration and he was very grateful, but for now, he ignored that.

The third option he had was to stay in this world till the Suffering begins. But then, he couldn’t grow much stronger and would be in a very passive position when it came to growth. Only new experiences and worlds can make one stronger the fastest.

If he chose the third option, he might as well be a pig waiting for slaughter!

All of it was such an elaborately curated trap that Mark could only think of one thing.

Checkmate.

The world had already trapped him in this choice—a choice without any good one among them. If the Armor hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t have even noticed it and would have just simply fallen for it.

"At first, it gave me a Portal Key that would be the worst of all kinds of Portal Keys, then, it left me with two equally bad decisions. It’s smart," he said.

"If we didn’t have the Violet Mirror," Reol’ran said, rather nervous. "we wouldn’t have noticed that the Portal Key you have is near an evolution of its own.

"You can only know what kind of World you are entering, and what Tier it is, only because you have the Mirror. Others can only guess. It is an even more elaborate scheme if you couldn’t know that—since you would immediately enter that world otherwise. "

Mark felt his heart rate speed up.

A master strategist. The River of Destiny was already preparing the best stage for its assassin to kill Mark!

The only choice in the whole thing for him was where he would face the enemy who would come, but with this simple move, the River of Destiny had possibly limited it to just three!

Who knows what else it could do if he entered the Demon World?

In war, true battles happen before the fight begins. The fight is just the result. Beware.

This was the preparation stage, the battle before the fight, and Mark was already in a bind.