A Deal with the Devil

In the Gospel Realm, along Route 47 leading toward Azura, a hovercar crackling with electrical discharge tore across the pavement. Its smoking, sputtering undercarriage made it abundantly clear that its anti-gravity module had completely failed. In the back, the taillights were flashing rapidly in a relentless cycle of red, orange, and yellow, signaling that the vehicle's autopilot had broken down entirely. A manic driver had floored the accelerator, hurtling well past the speed limit. A streak of ethereal light flitted across the night sky, landing on the roof and condensing into an extraordinarily emaciated, diminutive goblin. Barely ninety centimeters tall, he wore nothing but a tattered rag wrapped around his waist, yet in his grip was a spring-steel spike longer than his own height—practically a spear in his hands. Lining up with the driver's seat below, he savagely drove the steel spike down through the roof! Yet the strike met no yielding flesh. Instead, a straight sword thrust upward from within the vehicle, slicing with brutal precision to shear off half the goblin's foot! Even so, the severed limb drew not the slightest grimace of pain from him. Before setting out tonight, he had received the miracle "Pain Block." The cost was the disabling of all his reflexive nerves. The vast majority of underworld melee sorcerers despised using Pain Block; pain could be endured and overcome, whereas the dulled reflexes that came with total numbness meant the difference between life and death in a lightning-fast clash. But this goblin was one of the rare melee sorcerers who didn't rely on martial arts, as proven by his movement miracle, "Rainbow Light." As the most renowned and potent miracle of the light sorcery faction, Rainbow Light allowed a sorcerer to transform into a beam of light moving at blinding speed—unstoppable, uninterruptible, and invulnerable. The drawback, however, was its staggering mana consumption; under ordinary circumstances, it could only be used for short-range repositioning. The sole method of reducing Rainbow Light's cost was reducing the sorcerer's own weight. Normal Gospel goblins were far taller than ninety centimeters. This goblin light sorcerer had deliberately shaved away his own bone and carved off his flesh, paring his weight down to the point where a gust of wind could send him floating. In return, he could employ Rainbow Light practically as a regular sorcery art, earning himself the terrifying moniker of "Piercing Light." As for his real name, no one even remembered it. Yet with a body lighter than a child's, Piercing Light was doomed to never match an ordinary sorcerer in physical combat. He couldn't even wield a dagger freely, since any extra ounce of muscle would drastically increase the cost of Rainbow Light. Incidentally, the size and weight of a weapon also increased the miracle's drain, which was why Piercing Light favored such a peculiar weapon as a steel spike. Like his body and his fighting style, it was an all-in gamble that left him with no way out! Missing his target didn't matter in the least—the spike had never been meant as a weapon, but as a medium! Sorcery spirit: Iron Blossom! Under the goblin's deliberate direction, the spike inside the cabin detonated into countless needle-sharp barbs, subjecting the occupant to brutal torture within the inescapable space. Piercing Light preferred embedding the spike directly into an enemy's body before unleashing Iron Blossom, letting bloody iron flowers bloom from the inside out, but triggering it inside this enclosed cabin to inflict gruesome torment on his foe still offered some small relief from the suffocating depression pent up in his heart. The endocrine havoc wrought by prolonged, forced starvation had long since driven Piercing Light into clinical, physiological depression. He even had an online consultation scheduled with a Blood Moon psychiatrist for three o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Nowadays, only a therapy session every three days could keep Piercing Light from drowning in his own life, allowing him to surface just long enough to gasp for air. No one would have guessed that the Blood Moon's greatest export to Gospel would turn out to be psychiatrists. Under the educational guidance of the Gospel system, everyone, sorcerers included, knew the exact right path and life direction laid out for them. Invisible societal pressure and a pathological obsession with "rankings" and "status" subconsciously forced everyone to push themselves to the brink, trapped in an exhausting existence they dared not speak of. So when this vast market opened to the Blood Moon, foreign psychiatrists were instantly swarmed by desperate patients. Still, this dogshit life could finally come to an end, Piercing Light thought. If the urban legend was true and Azura really held a devil capable of granting any wish, then pulling off this one job would allow him to leave Gospel behind and retire in the idyllic freedom of the Blood Moon Realm... He could even go find his psychiatrist, Annabelle. Though Piercing Light had seen plenty of attractive goblins, he had been completely captivated by Annabelle's pure, adorable innocence. Blood Moon goblins really were better than Gospel's. Yet Piercing Light heard no shrieks of agony, only the clangorous symphony of colliding steel and the uncontrolled drifting of the vehicle as it swerved back and forth. Blocked by a blade? Looking down, he saw the sword tip piercing the roof suddenly split apart, revealing a circular hole on the hilt... No, why did that look like... a gun muzzle? A high-explosive round instantly punched through Piercing Light's skull, blooming into a spray of blood that scattered in the air. His limp body was swept up by the wind, fluttering away like paper. The female orc Kaiwei, pursuing close behind on unfurled wings of gold and silver, veered around Piercing Light's corpse, beat her wings for a burst of speed, and rapidly closed the gap on the hurtling hovercar! Once within range, Kaiwei unslung a rifle and fired toward the rear fuel tank and wheels. The hovercar was a hybrid, so it could explode just the same! But the driver was remarkably skilled, drifting back and forth in continuous evasions, leaving Kaiwei with an empty magazine and little damage to show for it. That was only to be expected. Though Kaiwei was a Two-Wing sorcerer, an orc's thick fingers were naturally ill-suited for firearms. She hadn't counted on dealing major damage with the rifle anyway, only aiming to force the hovercar into evasive maneuvers so she could close the distance! Accelerating with sudden ferocity, Kaiwei gripped the roof with both hands, coiled her legs, and shattered the rear window glass with a powerful kick to dive inside! But within such cramped confines, a razor-sharp glint of steel slashed outward from within, giving the female orc no room to dodge! Nor did she need to! The keen straight sword tore through her camouflage trousers and struck her avocado-green skin with the ringing clang of steel. As a fist-and-claw sorcerer, her body was her ultimate weapon, her most impenetrable armor! Bracing against the roof, Kaiwei lashed out a kick toward the wine-red-haired sorcerer behind the wheel. Even from such an awkward posture that denied her proper leverage, a casual kick from her could easily burst a fire hydrant. More importantly, in such cramped quarters, even a fist-and-claw sorcerer felt constrained, let alone a sword sorcerer who needed distance to fight! The interior of the car rattled with the harsh grinding of vibrating machinery. Raising her right arm, the long-haired sorcerer actually withstood the female orc's kick head-on. The terrifying shockwave completely shredded the sleeve of her right arm, revealing the sleek, cold gleam of solid metal beneath. Clearly, what had stopped Kaiwei was no flesh and blood, but brutal hardcore technology. "'Metal Doll' Cecelia, hand over the sorcery spirit and I'll let you walk away," Kaiwei growled. "No one betrays the Courier Agency!" "Ha," Cecelia scoffed. "If you take it, would you really give it to Painter? We're so close to Azura—don't tell me you wouldn't take it to the devil to exchange for a wish?" "Of course I would give it to Painter! He's right behind us and will catch up any second!" Kaiwei ripped out a car seat and threw it out the broken window. "This is your last chance to run. Once Painter catches up, do you honestly think you can walk away in one piece?!" "If the devil can truly grant any wish, why would I need to fear a mere Painter then?" Though her words were defiant, Cecelia's voice rose sharply into a hysterical shriek. "This is mine! I earned this! I will not let this chance slip away!" "Stubborn fool!" Kaiwei roared and hurled a thunderous punch. Cecelia drew a sword from her canister and slashed back, but it merely left a faint red mark across the female orc's knuckles—without even breaking the skin! Kaiwei rained down blow after blow. Scrambling to steer the hovercar while parrying, Cecelia struggled to keep up; her arms took repeated hits, and her left arm was even dented under the impact. Yet Cecelia's expression never wavered. As the sleeve of her left arm was battered to ribbons, a second all-metal alloy arm was laid bare! Yet Cecelia knew this was nothing more than a dying struggle. Kaiwei was a consummate Two-Wing sorcerer, whereas she was merely a Silver Sorcerer who couldn't even cast miracles fluidly. Kaiwei didn't even need to use spells; her steel body, honed and steeped in miracles day after day for decades, was more than enough to shatter any blade. Were it not for the cramped quarters preventing Kaiwei from exerting her full strength, Cecelia wouldn't have lasted more than a few exchanges! Unlike freaks like "Piercing Light" who relied on eccentric gimmicks, "Iron Fist" Kaiwei was one of the Courier Agency's top fighters, a flight master second only to Painter. Just last month, in a clash with an agency over in Nabistin, she had killed three Gold Sorcerers in head-on combat! The moment Cecelia realized Kaiwei had caught up, she knew the odds of her desperate gamble were razor-thin. But giving up now was something she could never accept! Chaos was a ladder. The unprecedented Divine Lord of Stars now reigned over the land, and four never-before-seen countries had merged with Gospel. The tides of this grand epoch swallowed everyone whole, bringing an endless rush of dangers and opportunities... And the devil of Azura was the only opportunity Cecelia could grasp! Right then, Cecelia noticed the highway ahead intersected a railroad. Not far off, a train was clattering along at breakneck speed. Due to technology spreading from Stars, Paradise, the Abyss, and the Blood Moon, coupled with countless orders pouring in, factories across Gospel were running at maximum capacity, and the railways operated at full load transporting raw materials and freight. Consequently, the train was not only laden to the brim, but barreling along at top speed. Cecelia's mind whirred. Suddenly, she whipped out a box and threw it out the car. "Take it!" Kaiwei couldn't help glancing after it. Seizing that split second, Cecelia flicked the mechanism on her sword, aiming the gun muzzle directly at Kaiwei's head! Bang! Kaiwei snapped her head back on pure reflex. The high-explosive round grazed the female orc's flying dreadlocks, blowing away nearly half of the already battered roof. A gunblade from Stars... Kaiwei recognized the specialized weapon at a glance. Weapons were always the fastest technology to spread; when gunblades from Stars trickled into Gospel's underground market, by the third day every weapons shop had stocked models from various armories. However, both firearms and swordsmanship demanded years of arduous practice, so few people could wield such a specialized hybrid weapon, and it had caused little ripple in the broader market. Back at the Courier Agency, Cecelia had always wielded conventional swords; who would have thought she was keeping this trick up her sleeve? But if she thought a little marksmanship could defeat "Iron Fist," she was sorely underestimating her! Kaiwei sneered inwardly. But when she looked up, she saw Cecelia grabbing her sword canister, smashing through the window, and leaping out. Boom! The speeding hovercar slammed headfirst into a train carriage. The train remained unscathed, while the hovercar flipped violently into the air, cleared the train, and crashed onto the hillside on the other side, erupting in a fiery explosion like fireworks against the night. Cecelia's long metal legs deployed blades in the nick of time, biting into the train carriage with a screech of bright sparks, barely catching the ride. Her steel left hand clutched the sword canister while her metal right hand gripped the edge of the roof. Long wine-red hair whipped in the wind, making her look like a sharp, metallic rose. Reaching into her coat, she produced the real box and flipped open the lid. Inside lay a dull, lusterless "Black Diamond." A Black Diamond was the highest-grade sealing container for sorcery spirits, yet resting inside this black crystal was merely a two-winged sorcery spirit. Sunseeker. Two weeks ago, an urban legend had surfaced out of nowhere in Azura: anyone who brought a Sunseeker sorcery spirit to Azura could trade it with the devil for a single wish. At first, Cecelia hadn't paid it any mind. But after several sorcerers emerged one after another, having obtained power from the devil, she gradually grew restless. Once the Courier Agency began deploying en masse to scour for Sunseeker spirits while the net was flooded with confusing rumors and official denials, Cecelia knew the devil was no myth—it was real. Stowing the box away, she looked ahead toward the bustling, brightly lit two-tiered city of Azura, as radiant as day. Rumor had it that the "First Witch," Annan, had risen from Azura, advancing to Sanctuary and stepping into legend at unimaginable speed while holding supreme authority over Gospel, with even the current Yisu Empress acting as her puppet. Her personal might and worldly achievements had both reached the pinnacle... Could she have traded with the devil back then to attain everything she had today? While Cecelia let her imagination run wild, the train rapidly entered Azura's urban district. Cecelia had originally planned to wait until it reached the station, but catching sight of winged figures flying toward the station in the distance set alarm bells ringing in her head. Without hesitation, she leapt from the train, rolled over a dozen times across the ground, and sprinted toward the city center with her canister in tow! Running into a parking lot, she spotted a Crowflight motorcycle and straddled it without hesitation. Her metallic fingers split open to reveal an electromagnetic skeleton key. Jamming it into the ignition and twisting a few times, she started the engine just before the Two-Wing sorcerers flew into range. The engine roared like a monstrous beast, exhaust pipes spitting flames as she blasted straight through the parking gate in a howl of speed! "Don't let her get away!" "She has the Sunseeker spirit!" "Block her, quick!" Cecelia sped through the unfamiliar city on her bike. Before her eyes flashed neon signs and holographic billboard ads, yet she felt as though she were navigating the deadliest, most predatory jungle. Street corners, the sky, the roadways—predatory sorcerers seemed ready to pounce from every direction. The eyes of every passerby seemed to gleam with covetous glares. Shouts ringing out across the streets acted like alarm clocks jolting the restless city awake, while interlocking signals propagated across the night airwaves. She had thought herself a lucky soul holding the key to a treasure vault, but now she felt far more like a sheep wandering willingly into a pack of wolves. "Hand over the Sunseeker spirit!" With the crack of a gunshot, the Crowflight exploded into fragments. Clinging tightly to her sword canister, Cecelia was thrown clear. No sooner had she scrambled to her feet than an elf on a motorcycle charged straight at her, popping a high wheelie with the intent to crush her beneath the front tire! Stepping forward, Cecelia whipped a straight sword from the canister and held it high. Her slender frame tensed to the limit. Scalding steam vented from her mechanical arms as she let out a shrill, cracking roar and brought the blade down in a vicious cleave. A crescent of blade light sheared the elf and his bike clean in half; mangled steel and flesh crashed into the adjacent storefronts, shattering the display windows along the street! The straight sword snapped from the impact as well. While her modified metal arms could erupt with terrifying burst power, ordinary blades couldn't withstand such brutal force. That was why what she desired most was a spatial ring, so she wouldn't have to lug a heavy canister around everywhere... Tossing the broken blade aside, Cecelia ducked into the nearest alley in an attempt to lose her pursuers, but shouts, curses, and footsteps echoed from every direction. She was already surrounded. These bastards are actually spending merits to track me with the Gospel Book... Cecelia realized what was happening. Painter wouldn't have leaked her information to local agencies in Azura; the only explanation was that local Azura sorcerers were burning contribution merits with their Gospel Books to pinpoint any Sunseeker spirit entering Azura's borders. Yet doing so cost an exorbitant amount of merits and wasn't even guaranteed to succeed. Were they truly willing to pay such an exorbitant price beforehand, just for a wish from the devil? According to the urban legend, the devil haunted Azura's Liwan District. As long as one reached Liwan District, they could trade with the devil. And she was only... six hundred meters away. Seeing the sorcerers blocking the alley ahead, Cecelia took a deep breath. She drew another straight sword from the canister, her bare metal legs treading across the pitted, puddle-filled ground. A light drizzle began to fall from the sky. The cool summer breeze brushed across the city, where countless wonderful stories were about to unfold—delicacies, dates, fireworks, romance... But none of that had anything to do with her. From the moment her limbs were replaced with metal prosthetics, from the moment phantom limb pain and neuralgia tormented her day and night, from the moment she had to exert manifold more effort with a body far frailer than ordinary people just to step into the Void Realm, she was doomed never to live a mundane, ordinary life. When her life was already so painful, if it couldn't be dazzling and magnificent, wouldn't it be nothing more than a tragedy? "Hand it over, or die." Her steel legs stomped heavily into the murky water. The wine-red-haired metal doll glided silently through the rain curtain, swinging her straight sword to cut down the first sorcerer blocking her path. The second, the third... By the time she hacked her way out of the alley, only five swords remained in her canister, and she was five hundred and fifty meters from Liwan District. On the main street outside the alley, dozens of sorcerers stood in a wall-like row blocking her path, firearms trained directly on her. "All Sunseeker spirits in Azura must be handed over to our Voodoo Agency," the leader said. "Surrender it obediently, and not only will your life be spared, but you'll receive a generous reward." Rain trickled into the seams of her mechanical arms, producing a bizarre itching sensation. Resisting the urge to scratch, Cecelia glanced around and asked, "There are so many of you, but doesn't the devil only grant one wish?" The leader shook his head. "Don't bother trying to drive a wedge between us. We aren't qualified to deal with the devil anyway; a truly great figure is on his way. Hand it over now, and perhaps you'll earn his favor." Cecelia pondered for a moment, set down the sword canister, and took out the box. She deliberately flipped open the lid to let them see what was inside, then said, "Since you take orders from a big shot, that means you dare not damage the Sunseeker spirit. In that case..." "I'll use the Sunseeker spirit as my shield—let's see if you dare shoot at it!" With a fierce swing of her canister, Cecelia hurled the remaining blades hurtling toward the enemy formation. Gripping the box in her left hand and a straight sword in her right, she charged straight in. Just as expected, the people from Voodoo Agency hesitated and scrambled awkwardly, not daring to shoot at the vitals shielded by the box. Meanwhile, with all four limbs being metal prosthetics, gunfire against them posed little threat. Amid the chaos, she actually tore through their line, diving beneath an arcade building and sprinting onward! Below the arcade were streets, above were overhanging structures; Two-Wing sorcerers could not exploit their flight advantage in such terrain! This area seemed to be a late-night food street, lined with bustling eateries on both sides. Panic-stricken pedestrians fled in every direction at the sound of gunfire, and the streets were cluttered with outdoor tables and chairs. Cecelia thrived in the chaos, using the terrain to fend off Voodoo Agency's pursuit again and again, refusing to be caught! Four hundred meters! Three hundred and fifty meters! Three hundred meters! Cecelia fixed her gaze on the end of the food street. She was almost at Liwan District. As long as she reached Liwan District, she could— Thud! A sudden, crushing pressure instantly shattered Cecelia's balance. She crashed heavily onto the pavement like a ragdoll. Her fair face was scraped and bleeding, but the agonizing pain surging from the neural connection nodes in her four limbs made sweat pour down her forehead as her entire body trembled. An elegantly dressed, blonde middle-aged man descended gracefully from the sky. The leader of Voodoo Agency scurried over and bowed respectfully. "My apologies, Lord Gregory. Your subordinates were incompetent, forcing Your Excellency to step in personally..." The blonde middle-aged man glanced at Cecelia and frowned slightly. "You couldn't even subdue a Silver Sorcerer. It seems I have been far too lenient with you. Go back and receive thirty lashes each, no medical treatment allowed." "Yes, sir." The leader lowered his head. By now, Cecelia finally recognized the blonde middle-aged man—the "Monarch" Gregory, an earth sorcerer whose fame had skyrocketed over the past six months. Renowned across Gospel for his gravity field miracle, he was said to make all kneel and bow before him. And what was more, he was a... Sanctuary sorcerer! "Why?" Gregory raised an eyebrow, looking down at the metal doll pinned to the ground, her voice shaking with agony. "You're already a Sanctuary sorcerer! Why do you still have to steal my things?" Cecelia's face was slicked with what could have been rain, sweat, or tears. "You can already have... whatever you want." Gregory snickered, then burst into hearty laughter, shaking his head. "Sanctuary sorcerers aren't as exalted as you imagine, nor can I have whatever I want. At the very least, I have yet to meet the devil." "Besides, even someone like me yearns for the devil's power," he murmured softly. "Perhaps it's some Void Realm installation lost to the mortal world... If I could capture the devil..." "Then go find a Sunseeker spirit yourself!" Cecelia bit her lower lip, struggling to push herself up. "Why take mine?!" Gregory pressed a finger down slightly. At once, an even more crushing gravity weighed down upon Cecelia, causing her metallic limbs to creak under the agonizing strain. "Because you are not worthy," he said deliberately. "How could trash like you, crawling in the mud, ever deserve an opportunity like this?" "Every Sunseeker spirit that enters Azura belongs to me, Gregory! Only I am qualified to make a deal with the devil! You arrogant fools who think you can ascend to the heavens in a single bound and change your lives deserve to become my sacrifices!" Cecelia remained silent, enduring Gregory's humiliation. She had thought she was escaping the Courier Agency's pursuit and seizing her chance amid the surging waves of the era, only to end up doing the work for someone else's benefit. Time and again she tried to shake off the identity of the weak, time and again she tried to seize control of her own destiny, yet time and again she ended up as the exploited underdog. With her cheek pressed against the icy pavement, pain from her neural nodes and internal organs radiating through her entire body, pinned helpless in sheer agony, Cecelia felt as though she truly were dirt beneath their feet. Through her tear-blurred vision, she could vaguely see someone still sitting in the eatery across the street. Just then, a sorcerer from Voodoo Agency walked over and barked, "What the hell are you eating? Get lost, now!" "I'm eating tossed ee-fu noodles with beef brisket and bean paste," the young man replied. "I'm not finished yet."