Plague Lord

Finally, the condensed demonic energy orb returned to Dobroslav. With a sly smile that spoke volumes, he seized the orb and bit into it. But this was no ordinary bite―it was a devouring, a ritualistic consumption that went beyond mere sustenance. It was as if he were savouring the most exquisite delicacy, feasting on the very essence that held the power of countless demons. His face portrayed greed, arrogance, and eyes ablaze with newfound power.

Each bite sent ripples of energy through his being, intertwining with the remnants of the demonic essence within the orb. The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of darkness that resonated with the deepest recesses of his soul. As he chewed, the air seemed to thicken with the otherworldly energy that emanated from the consumed demonic essence.

After finishing his feast on the orb, he erupted into maniacal laughter that echoed through the cavernous dungeon. "Ahaha, the power! It's surging!" The transformative energy surged through him, propelling him from rank 18 to 19 and then from 19 to 20. In that moment, he felt the chains that had bound him for so long loosen, the lock upon his soul finally giving way.

With arrogance, he shouted, "Shadow Demon! Manifest!" The proclamation reverberated through the dungeon, a declaration of the newfound strength coursing through his veins. The shadows responded to his call, coalescing around him like an obedient ally. A dark aura enveloped Dobroslav as the manifestation of his martial spirit took shape.

The Shadow Demon materialised beside him, a looming silhouette that mirrored his own malevolence. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly intensity, mirroring the arrogance that radiated from Dobroslav. The dungeon, once a realm of demonic terror, now bore witness to the ascension of a cultivator empowered by the very shadows that danced within his soul.

With the manifestation of the Shadow Demon, Dobroslav gained an array of formidable abilities. He could wield shadow magic to create bolts of darkness that lashed out at his command. Lesser demons answered his beck and call, summoned from the abyss to serve their newfound master. The power to control minds became a sinister tool in his arsenal, and the ability to teleport into the shadow realm granted him unparalleled mobility.

The dungeon trembled with the unleashed might of Dobroslav's newfound strength. As he stood amidst the shadows, the triumphant cultivator revealed in the dominion he now held over the darkness itself. The journey through the dungeon had transformed into a testament of his ascent into the echelons of power.

However, this wasn't the end. As his martial spirit stabilised, his cultivation kept soaring, progressing from rank 20 to 21 and then from 21 to 22. The ascent continued relentlessly until finally reaching its peak at rank 28. This dungeon proved to be a veritable treasure trove for Dobroslav, propelling him through an unprecedented leap of 10 ranks in one fell swoop. It was already considered remarkable to advance more than two ranks at once, but achieving a monumental jump of 10 ranks marked him as an utter genius among cultivators.

"The shadows are surging through my veins!" he exclaimed, elated with his newfound power. Dobroslav concentrated, adopting a summoning pose. A pentagram appeared beneath his feet, twisting and moving in circles around him. "Come, my minion! Come and serve your master!" Dobroslav summoned his demonic minion, or so he thought.

"Hmm, that's weird. Why is it not working?" Dobroslav was perplexed by the unexpected turn of events. "I guess my cultivation needs to stabilise first. That must be it," he reasoned. Undeterred by the temporary setback, Dobroslav decided to move forward. If this were a blessing, then it was a fortuitous turn of events. If it were a curse, there was no way to avoid it anyway.

Dobroslav continued to traverse the dimly lit corridors, his anticipation tinged with impatience. Hours passed, and the oppressive silence of the seemingly endless dungeon began to wear on him. No signs of other cultivators, no exits, nothing but the monotonous labyrinthine pathways. Doubt crept in, and a sense of hopelessness began to settle. "Will it ever end? This bloody dungeon is huge!" he muttered in frustration.

As he meandered through the shadowy halls, Dobroslav found massive gates adorned with runic words. The runic language, the tongue of demon clans, held a certain mystery that eluded most humans. Humans, in their loathing of demons, seldom delved into the study of runes. However, Dobroslav was different. With the help of his martial spirit, he naturally possessed the ability to read and write runic words.

The words inscribed on the doors revealed a tantalising secret. "This is where the Plague Lord lies in his eternal rest." An evil grin spread across Dobroslav's face as he pushed the doors open. "Found it!"