Chapter 1053: 1052: Nourishment
Simon sat cross-legged on the carpet beside his bed.
Orange light entered through the tall windows, reaching across the floor toward the closed door. He had activated the room’s privacy formations and checked them twice.
A few hours had passed since Sonya and Akaza survived their tribulations.
After making sure they were alright and leaving their registration arrangements to Enigma, Simon had returned home. The two new Royal Daemons had followed him, occupied separate rooms, and begun examining their changed bodies.
They had also refused to leave.
"A house all to myself?" Sonya had said. "How boring. This Honourable is staying here."
Akaza had been no better.
"I don’t need a whole house. The room here is enough for me."
Simon rubbed his forehead.
They were being offered their own residences. Good residences, which they wouldn’t even have to pay for.
Yet somehow, his house remained everyone’s house. Including Virella and Ammor.
They were demons, so they were not given houses of their own.
And demons rarely owned houses in the Abyss.
A vein stood out on his forehead.
Fortunately, they were all out now.
Sonya had decided that becoming a member meant she needed a proper tour. She wanted to see the interesting places, find something entertaining, and learn where she could beat people up without being punished.
Naturally, she had chosen Enigma as her guide.
Simon still remembered the way the Fourth Lord’s face had changed and became ugly.
"You know where everything is," Sonya had told him. "Who else should this Honourable ask?"
Akaza had gone with them. Virella and Ammor had followed.
Simon shook his head and exhaled.
At least the house was quiet.
He rested his hands on his knees and examined his condition.
His demonic energy had recovered considerably, but his heartbeat still felt weaker than usual. The blood essence spent on the awakenings hadn’t returned simply because he had absorbed more Hell Stones.
He could probably force himself through Virella’s and Ammor’s evolutions.
Then someone would have to carry him to this bed.
Even without that concern, he wasn’t ready to use his remaining opportunities on them. He needed to know them better. Their usefulness and loyalty had to justify something he could offer only a limited number of times.
For now, he wanted to sleep.
A faint movement within his body reminded him why he couldn’t.
The cursed energy taken from Joren remained enclosed within his own power. A loose strand pressed against the boundary, and Simon folded it back into the rest.
He had been maintaining that enclosure throughout everything that followed the duel.
If his control slipped while he slept, the energy could spread through his body.
Simon closed his eyes.
"Let’s deal with you first."
When he devoured Joren, he had considered acquiring an ability related to cursed spirits.
He had decided against it.
Four of the seven stars in his blessing were already occupied. He had only three remaining, and controlling cursed spirits didn’t seem worth one.
It wasn’t enough to only possess the ability. He would need spirits to command.
Powerful ones. Preferably spirits that could grow rather than become useless as he advanced.
Where was he supposed to find them?
They weren’t beasts he could hunt in almost any forest.
House Voss probably possessed suitable spirits. The Abyss might have some too. But neither was likely to hand over its best ones merely because he asked.
He could already imagine how much time he would spend finding them, acquiring them, and learning to control them.
No.
He had other uses for those three stars.
Instead, he had taken Joren’s physical essence, demonic energy, cursed energy, and artificial Seed of Pride.
The demonic energy and physic essence had already strengthened him. The other two remained together inside the enclosure.
Joren’s artificial seed was deeply entangled with the cursed energy. Simon had kept it there deliberately rather than immediately feeding it to his own Seed of Pride.
He wanted to understand what he had taken.
His mental energy approached the trapped mass.
It shifted in response.
Simon separated a thin strand, keeping another layer of his power around it.
There.
That same reaction again.
His Seeds of Sin stirred.
He had noticed it after draining Joren, but Severin had hardly given him time to sit down and investigate.
Simon slowly examined the strand of cursed energy.
Beneath its hostility, he sensed something resembling anger. It persisted even when he stopped moving the energy, pressing against his restraint as though it wanted to hurt whatever contained it.
The Seed of Wrath responded more strongly.
He selected another strand.
This one felt different. The response from Wrath weakened, while Greed stirred instead.
Simon’s brows drew together.
Were the differences related to whatever had produced the cursed energy?
Resentment, anger, pain, grief…
Perhaps those emotions could give rise to it when pushed far enough. And if that was true, why not greed, envy, or lust?
Their extremes could become just as ugly.
He didn’t know whether all those feelings produced the same kind of power. What he held already seemed less uniform than he had assumed.
His seeds helped him distinguish parts of it. Even so, his understanding remained based on their reactions and the impressions he received while examining the energy.
He would still need more than this to be certain.
Still, the connection was difficult to ignore.
The Seeds of Sin could be nurtured through powerful desires and emotions. Cursed energy might preserve something of those same feelings in a form his seeds could consume.
Simon brought the first strand toward Gluttony.
The seed stirred eagerly.
He allowed only a little through.
The cursed energy entered it and disappeared.
Simon waited, watching for any sign of the hostility spreading into his heart.
Nothing escaped.
Instead, a refined portion travelled along the connections he had established between his seeds. The Seed of Wrath received it and responded with a stronger pulse.
Simon’s attention sharpened.
He repeated the process with the second strand.
This time, Greed received more of the nourishment.
"So you can use it."
He was still far from understanding cursed energy, but he had found a use for what was inside him.
He opened the enclosure slightly.
A narrow stream flowed toward Gluttony.
The seed consumed it, breaking down what entered before sending the compatible portions toward the others. Simon kept the flow slow, checking that nothing slipped into his ordinary circulation.
The trapped mass of cursed energy gradually thinned.
Its artificial Seed of Pride became easier to distinguish.
Simon’s own Pride responded before he brought it any closer.
He paused.
That was the part he wanted to handle most carefully.
Rather than force the entire artificial seed into his own Seed of Pride, he let Gluttony consume it gradually, together with the cursed energy clinging to it.
The process slowed.
Simon maintained his concentration until the first portion passed through.
Pride absorbed it.
His natural seed grew slightly, its presence becoming more distinct within his heart.
Simon waited.
There was no pain and no loss of control.
He continued.
By the time the last fragment disappeared, Pride had received the largest benefit from the refinement. Wrath followed, with Greed gaining less.
Gluttony had benefited as well.
But its greatest growth had already come from devouring Joren’s corpse. Counting everything he had gained from the Heart Daemon, Gluttony remained ahead.
Simon opened his eyes.
His Will reached toward his bedside table.
It rose immediately.
He tightened his control around it, then eased the pressure. The response was sharper than before, despite his exhaustion.
His ability to impose his Will had strengthened.
Not dramatically, but enough for him to notice.
He returned the table and examined his heart again.
Each seed responded normally.
He checked his Seed of Pride twice, searching for any remnant of Joren’s artificial seed that hadn’t been consumed properly. Then he examined the pathways around the enclosure.
Nothing remained loose inside him.
Simon released a breath.
The tension of containing the cursed energy was finally gone.
A thought followed.
If Joren alone had provided this much nourishment, what could he gain from other members of House Voss?
Severin came to mind.
Simon’s eyes narrowed briefly before he dismissed the thought.
Discovering that their cursed energy was useful wasn’t a good enough reason to start looking for trouble.
As long as House Voss left him alone, he would leave them alone.
He looked toward his bed.
The growth of his seeds hadn’t replaced his lost blood essence. His limbs still felt heavy, and his concentration was beginning to falter now that there was nothing urgent holding it in place.
The five treasures in his ring could wait.
Refining them while exhausted would be an excellent way to waste both the rewards and the effort spent obtaining them.
Simon stood, checked the room’s formations once more, and lay down.
The mattress yielded beneath his weight.
He adjusted himself, let his head sink into the pillow, and closed his eyes.
Before long, his breathing had settled into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.