the Malvados

Servus raised his palm into the air, his voice cold as he spoke:

"A slave's power is its master's possession… Let me see the drop of power those souls might have... Vinculum Servitutis."

His peers might not have noticed, but nine chains beyond the spiritual plane flew out from the broken ends of the chains tied around his wrists. They soared, ripping themselves into the core of each soul. If Servus had wanted to, he could have killed them on the spot, but they were oblivious to that fact.

He then turned his gaze to Parasitus Mortuorum, his tone still cold:

"Malvado de la Novena... the parasite Malvado... Parasitus Mortuorum."

arasitus, dumbfounded and in shock, spoke:

"I am the weakest?"

Immemorvis looked at him, confused, and responded:

"Wait... is it that surprising to you that you're the weakest?"

Frustrated, Parasitus snapped:

"Shut up, you!"

Then, something strange happened. Nine small black circles appeared, perfectly aligned from smallest to largest, forming a tattoo on the center of his chest. At the very center, in delicate script almost too small to read, was the inscription: Noveno Malvado.

Parasitus, now even more shocked, exclaimed:

"What the hell is that?"

Servus paid no attention to Parasitus and instead turned his gaze to Duae Monetae Mortis.

"Malvado de la Octava… the Divided Self, Duae Monetae Mortis."

She simply shrugged, letting out a chuckle.

"Mortis didn't expect anything else anyway."

Once again, the same phenomenon occurred. On the forehead of her mask, eight small black circles appeared, perfectly aligned from smallest to largest. In delicate, elegant script, a name was inscribed: Octavo Malvado.

Servus sighed, then turned his cold gaze toward Cupida Inamabilis.

"Malvado de la Séptima… the Lustful One, Cupida Inamabilis."

She flashed a wicked smile, her tone dripping with malice.

"I think I'm already fond of this name… it carries such elegance and charm."

Though hidden beneath her clothing, seven circles materialized on the left side of her chest, and at the center, written in intricate script: Séptimo Malvado.

Servus's golden eyes briefly flickered toward El Devorator before he spoke in his usual firm tone.

"Malvado de la Sexta… the Devourer, El Devorator."

Though unseen by the others, six circles manifested on the middle of his tongue, and at their center, inscribed in elegant script: Sexto Malvado.

Devorator clicked his tongue in frustration.

"Tch. I expected to be way higher!"

Servus, unfazed, turned to Immemorvis, his voice carrying a weight as if reality itself bent to his will.

"Malvado de la Quinta… the Void, Immemorvis Obscuritas."

Five circles emerged on the left side of his neck, and within them, a name written in fine script: Quinto Malvado.

Immemorvis let out a lazy sigh.

"I'll take it."

Yet, as he processed the ranking, his thoughts grew more serious.

These numbers may quantify spiritual energy, but in the end, raw power alone doesn't decide a fight. Strategy, versatility, and how one wields their abilities matter far more…

But for those in the top three, he mused, that's an entirely different matter…

Servus turned fully to face Hephaestus, his gaze sharp and unyielding. His voice carried no warmth—only cold judgment.

"Malvado de la Cuarta… the Wildfire, Hephaestus."

Hephaestus glared back with pure hatred, his body trembling with barely restrained fury.

Then, in the middle of his right hand, four circles manifested, their dark presence etching themselves into his very being. At their center, written in fine, elegant script: Cuarto Malvado.

Servus took a slow glance at William Jame, his golden eyes hollow and unreadable.

"Malvado de la Tercera… the Living Avarice, William Jame."

At the back of William's head, three circles manifested, dark symbols burned into existence. At their center, in elegant script: Tercer Malvado.

William exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigar, then let out an amused chuckle. "Didn't expect to rank that high!"

Servus then turned his piercing gaze toward the man in the beaked mask. His voice remained as cold as ever.

"Malvado de la Segunda… the Killer, Bala Afilada Cortante."

Beneath the mask, two circles tattooed themselves onto the skin of his face. Inscribed between them, barely visible: Segundo Malvado.

Afilada said nothing. He merely crossed his arms, his silent gaze locked onto Servus.

Then, without a single word, a single circle tattooed itself onto Servus's right eye—too small for most to read, yet undeniable in its mark.

"Primer Malvado."

Lowering his hand, Servus slid it into his pocket. His posture was casual, yet his presence weighed heavy upon the room. Then, he jumped onto the table, exhaling a slow breath before speaking again, his voice carrying finality.

"From this moment on… the entire spiritual world will know us as the Malvados."

Servus grasped his voodoo necklace, his fingers tightening around it. His golden eyes flickered toward William before he spoke, his voice firm and unwavering.

"Now, this meeting is over."

At that moment, history shifted.

On this day, an event unfolded that would shake not only the spiritual world but the human world as well.

The Ten Low Corrupted Spirits were no more.

From this day forward, they would be known as the Malvados.

A chain of events had been set into motion—one that no one could have foreseen.

chapter seventy-five end...