Yonaas

In a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by war with demonic forces, civilization as it once existed is all but gone. 

In its place, a new order had emerged, with humans developing magical abilities as each generation passed.

 To ensure the survival of their species, society had been divided into Circles, with each member guaranteed a specific job once they reached the age of eighteen.


Xylon Sinclair was an orphan with a limited affinity for magic, and he had been reincarnated as a punishment for his past deeds.

 In a former life, he was Zephyr, a powerful demon who served the mighty Balthyrov, the Lord of Demons, until he became a perceived threat. 
He got killed mercilessly and got forced to reincarnate as a fragile human being as a punishment. 


Upon reaching the age of eighteen, Xylon was told that he will become a Soul Keeper, a role that he knew nothing about. Despite his confusion, he had no choice but to accept this position. 


However, rather than following the status quo, Xylon experimented with the system, using his formal knowledge about the demon realm to resurrect demons from thousands of years ago.


 What had started as a mere curiosity soon turned into an obsession for Xylon. 


He was fascinated by the power that he could wield by bringing the ancient demons back from the dead. 

It was as if he had discovered a new realm of possibilities that he had never imagined before.

And then, he started to dream bigger...

Xylon Sinclair wanted to rule over both realms, human and demon realm...


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For those who wanted to contact me, here is my discord : Yoonaas#3976


p.s: the cover is  purely mine , and it is made solely for this webnovel,  it shows Zephyr.
Well, i don't allow anyone to use it, it is purely made for "i farm demons" .

+ all the art you see in the comments is original and purely made for this book.


my server :https://discord.gg/2X4kTvDUSu

I Farm Demons : Unholy Necromancer In the Apocalypse

The hallucination that had enveloped this demon had been on a grand scale, and it was the only reason that kept Xylon from swiftly dispatching him.

"Alright, I understand," the Incubus Somnia acknowledged, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone.

"If not a dream of that nature, what kind of dream would you desire? I'm more than willing to invest considerable effort to ensure your next dream brings you profound happiness."

Xylon's gaze shifted from the dreamweaver to the now desolate walls of the dungeon.

Once adorned with deceptive mirrors, they now stood as mute witnesses to the shattering of illusions, their surfaces littered with the remnants of what had been.

The floor, too, bore the scars of shattered mirrors, a stark contrast to the realm of deception that had previously held sway.

Over a hundread