A little power

Congratulations, you're now at mana level five hundred. Five hundred away from unlocking the first sigil," Anya said as his stats window popped up.

Title; Demon Lord Surrdon

Level; 1

Mana; 500

Skills; ice

Pet; Ice Phoenix

Weapons; devil Excalibur

He frowned studying the window. The pills had added only two hundred? If he was to depend on them, then he'd need at least-

"A normal practitioner would be at mana level seven hundred." The stats window vanished and Anya appeared in its stead. "But you're the demon lord, the laws work differently for you."

Surrdon gritted his teeth frustrated at the system. At the damned laws. "Why? How long am I supposed to stay in this sect?"

Anya drifted through the air till she reached a sleeping Bluey. Seeing the bird reminded him of the pet section. "And when did it become my pet? I don't recall singing any contract-"

"It chose you, idiot. Do you know how special one needs to be to be chosen by such a beast?" Anya poked it out of pure mischief before looking back at Surrdon. "Your first mission has been assigned."

     "Mission?"

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"Wrong answer. Do you accept it or not? If you reject the mission, a deduction of two hundred points of mana will be the price."

  Surrdon's frown deepened even further.

Such a loss was too much of a price. Besides, what kind of mission could the being behind Anya give him? Earn money? Sell his lungs?

    "I accept."

Anya flashed him a naughty smile before flying to his shoulder. "Go to sleep early dear Demon Lord, for tomorrow you're supposed to take your first step towards being...a core disciple. You have only one week. Failure means deduction."

   "A core disciple?" He threw Anya a horrified stare. "One week to go from an outer disciple to a core disciple?"

  Anya nodded, still smiling.

"Only, a week."

Surrdon heaved a sigh that carried with it all his will. He faced the sky, at the moon, and wondered how life was back on Earth. Did they miss him? Did they even care that he was dead?

   Maybe once he was done fulfilling the Demon Lord's wishes, he could find a way to go back, but in his current body.

_____

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

The loud ringing of the bell rippled through the entire sect. It was their alarm, meant to wake all the disciples from their slumber and start their day.

It had been a month, yet it still bothered Surrdon how loud it was. Why weren't there any quieter alarms in this world?

He stirred from his sleep, only to see the open window glaring at him. A chilly breeze was streaming in, straight for his bed.

Ever since the fight with Shanteng, most of the outer disciples in the shabby room where he slept had turned hostile against him. Nobody wanted to offend the son of one of the fourteen war generals of Ozath. Thus, they made life difficult for him at every turn, from leaving the window ajar, to gossiping, to serving him smaller meal potions and denying him the little monthly resources meant for all disciples.

Power dictated everything; from the food a disciple ate to the level and number of pills he received.

An inner disciple had access to the best techniques, the best pills, the best weapons, and the best sleeping areas, unlike the rundown courtyard Surrdon was residing.

Truly, nobody could ever respect the weak.

If it were up to the strong disciples, there would be no need for outer disciples. They were considered a waste of space, resources, and air. Their only use was being the servants, there to slave away for the strong.

But not Surrdon.

He only had a week to join the inner court.

Han slipped into Surrdon's vision, as usual, he shut the window for his sake and then looked back at him. Surrdon quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep to avoid an awkward conversation and Han didn't bother him. He simply walked away.

Why was such a kind heart in such a cruel sect? If he had the ability, he would have appointed Han as the chief. The sect would soar to great heights, surpassing any other in Agrerea.

Han had a strong will. A solid foundation. And a welcoming heart.

But, such people never ended well in any story. Surrdon definitely wasn't planning on being a saint here. He had witnessed the cruelty of both worlds. So why should he choose to be the savior?

Today, he would sign up for the monthly duels between outer and inner disciples. If he-no, he had to win at least four of the five duels in order to be promoted.

----

"Disqualified!" A young woman shouted throwing Surrdon's sheet off the table. It floated till it fell on his feet.

Her black eyes burrowed into his soul, disgust painting them ugly.

The yell attracted other disciples in the admission hall. And once more, the stares and murmurs rose to demean his name.

He ignored them all as usual but this time, he would not accept being sent away like a dog.

With anger burning in his chest, Surrdon slapped the desk and the girl gasped afraid. "There's no rule stating that I can't participate. Now write down my information and match me up with other disciples."

"You...you... I'll report your absurd behavior to the elder. See how your weak-"

"Let the boy have his taste of the duel," a familiar voice spoke up from somewhere nearby.

Surrdon tilted his head to the side slightly and caught a glimpse of Shanteng walking towards them in the company of four other inner disciples.

The murmurs died almost suddenly at the sight of Shanteng and more eyes offered their attention to them, anticipating another fight.

"My dear brother, why do you look unhappy seeing me?"

Surrdon instead shifted his eyes down at the seated girl. He was not in the mood for any stupid disputes. He knew too well that all the blame would be pushed on him.

"What is this?" Shanteng faked a gasp as he poked the boy to his right, nudging him to collect the paper lying on the floor.

The boy obeyed and handed it to Shanteng.

"Oh little brother, how powerful you are. Level five?" He then burst out in a mocking laugh, and so did the disciples he had brought along. "He says he's a level five. Are you trying to be funny?"

'Keep it together. No need to jump into a senseless fight.'

But there was so much one's ears could tolerate... He summoned his mana and manipulated it using the ice technique. A cold string crawled from Surrdon's hand and down to his feet before rushing along the floor undetected. It moved straight for Shanteng who was still mocking him. And without anyone seeing or feeling the attack, the string curled around his ankle before tightening itself.

"Aah!" Shanteng cried out and raised his right leg to hop on his left. Intense pain started gnawing his ankle, spreading to the rest of his leg. "Aah! What is happening?" He cried out, forgetting his arrogance and submitting to the pain.

The other disciples spectated in shock before murmuring to each other. The ones close to Shanteng quickly raised their hands and began transferring healing mana, their faces riddled with questions.

Surrdon smiled to himself, enjoying the show from a distance. His technique was not something a normal human practitioner could detect or fight. And he had perfected using it to attack over the three weeks since he learned it.

"Congratulations on learning how to use the heavenly ice technique." The little red snake materialized with her back to Surrdon disrespectfully. "Level up to mana level one thousand and you can learn the second volume."

"Second volume?"

She faced him, and he immediately saw the grease covering her lips. "We're you...eating?"

Anya ignored his second question and answered his first, "Learning the second volume allows you to do more than attack or defend. It allows you to bring down snow, and control the weather."

'That is like, creating winter.'

He smiled and quickly wiped it off.

"I will definitely make myself strong enough to learn that."