Akashic Records of the Bastard Child Engaged to a Goddess



Isadora Interlude Arc

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(POV: Akashic Records)

After what felt like an eternity, the arduous process of soul fusion finally reached its climax. Vyndariel poured every ounce of his power into the ritual, drawing upon the strength of over a hundred demon spirits. Each spirit coalesced, their essence blending together in a swirling vortex of energy.

As the final spirit merged, the raw energy coalesced into a humanoid shape, gradually solidifying into the delicate form of a young girl.

She appeared no older than thirteen, yet within her eyes burned a crimson glow. Her long, obsidian tresses cascaded down her back, a stark contrast against her impossibly pale complexion.

All his hard work and sacrifice had come to fruition.

A wide, maniacal grin adorned his face as he extended his trembling arms, reveling in the culmination of power hunger and frustration.

"It... It worked!" he cried out.

Turning his attention to Ashia, his loyal wife who stood by his side throughout this ambitious endeavor, Vyndariel could hardly contain his excitement.

He approached her.

"Can you believe it, Ashia? It truly worked!" he exclaimed.

There was unrestrained joy in his trembling voice.

Ashia, her head bowed in deference, smiled warmly at Vyndariel.

Her eyes glistened, she was happy.

"I'm genuinely happy for you, my lord," she replied.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Vyndariel reached out, his hand caressing Ashia's soft cheek. "And I'm grateful for your unwavering dedication," he murmured. "I apologize for the sharpness of my words earlier."

Ashia shook her head gently, a forgiving smile playing on her lips.

"No apologies are necessary. I know how deeply your ambitions drive you."

She was understanding.

"Eistel was never as selfless as you," he confessed softly, his gaze never left Ashia. That's why I'll always love you more than her..."

"R... Really...? My lord..."

"Of course."

Ashia's cheeks flushed deep red as Vyndariel leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a long-awaited kiss. She closed her eyes and surrendered herself to the intoxicating rhythm.

A little after, they finally broke the embrace, a thin strand of saliva connecting their lips for a brief moment before it snapped.

"Hm?"

Vyndariel's gaze shifted from Ashia to the dormant demon spirits.

One by one, the spirits stirred from their slumber, their somber eyes flickering with confusion as they tried to comprehend their newfound existence. Among them, the most crucial spirit emerged from her slumber with a soft groan.

Her red eyes scanned the unfamiliar surroundings.

Vyndariel knelt down beside Isadora, his eyes locked onto hers.

He could sense the immense power resonating from deep within her, the seed of a potential demon lord.

Truly, he was ecstatic.

"Awaken, child," Vyndariel commanded.

"Hnnnnnn..." the little girl uttered.

"You are now under my dominion. I am your master."

Confusion and vulnerability colored the girl's voice as she replied, "Y-you are my... Master?"

Vyndariel nodded, his grip on her shoulders tightening.

"Indeed. I am the creator of your very existence. You belong to me and no one else."

The little girl's voice trembled as she repeated his words, "I... belong to you... and no one else."

Feeling a surge of paternal affection, Vyndariel gently placed his hand on her head, his touch both soothing and possessive.

"Fear not, my dear. I shall grant you a name."

She managed a weak, grateful smile. "Thank you..." her voice was low like a whisper.

But before Vyndariel could bestow upon her a name, her body convulsed with agony. A sharp pain pierced through her back, causing her to shriek in anguish. Energy rippled through her small form, intensifying the torment.

With wide eyes, Vyndariel watched as another demon spirit emerged from the little girl's back, slightly older in appearance and possessing pointy ears and lifeless eyes.

An unexpected development that left him shocked.

"Who's she?" Ashia asked, her gaze fixed upon the girl who had sprouted out from Isadora.

Vyndariel took a moment to study both the two little girls, his eyes tracing their features. He was concerned, but it wasn't anything so big that he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"Hmm..."

Finally, he spoke.

"She must be a conscious remnant, left behind after the souls were fused to create the perfect demon spirit."

"A conscious remnant?" Ashia questioned, her brows furrowing in confusion.

Vyndariel stood, his eyes never left Isadora once.

She was the key to his evolution. The most precious "thing" he owned now.

With immense care, he lifted her fragile form into his arms, his grip steady and protective.

"It's a nice way of saying she's a waste product, easily discardable in the future."

Ashia's voice trembled with disbelief. "Isn't that a bit too harsh, my lord?"

Vyndariel turned to face her, his expression soft but resolute.

"My love, it isn't a matter of being harsh or not. In general, the truth can be bitter and diluting it to make one feel better is worthless. Because in the end, the truth still remains the same. So what reason do I have not to speak the truth as I see it...?"

He justified himself. His logic was vivid and easy to grasp.

As such, Ashia had no answer to his question.

Ashia's gaze shifted back to the girl termed a --- "conscious remnant", who sat motionless, her face devoid of any emotion.

Although Ashia showed care to the emotionless little girl, Vyndariel wasn't the same. He didn't care about the other demon spirits, the only thing they were useful for, was serving under the supreme demon spirit who would then serve under him.

"Look at her. Her magic power is the lowest of them all. She can't even express herself; the literal definition of an empty shell. Quite frankly a waste of our time..."

As if in response to their conversation, the emotionless little girl slowly extended her small right arm toward Vyndariel. In hopes that he would reciprocate the gesture of love he showed the perfect demon spirit.

"...Pa...Pa..."

The little girl finally spoke.

"Sh... She spoke," Ashia looked genuinely happy.

But Vyndariel turned away.

With the perfect demon spirit still cradled in his arms, he walked away, towards the exit of the main hall.

Turning back to Ashia, he spoke with calmness.

"Take care of the other demon spirits in my absence. I shall return once I have attended to everything else."

Ashia bowed her head in acknowledgment.

"Of course, my lord. I shall ensure their well-being."

The abandoned little girl remained there in silence. She withdrew the arm she once held up and then looked at her small palm. One could only imagine what she thought of herself that day.

She was too young to understand the pain of rejection.

Even after getting rejected by her own creator.

Gently, Ashia placed her hands on the little girl's cheeks and lifted her head up a bit before smiling at her.

"My lord may not see you and her as equals, but I don't believe that's important in any way, because you're both something else... Sisters..."

"...Sister..."

"Yes, you're both sisters, uh, hmm." Ashia rubbed her chin.

When the little girl saw her do this, she did the same thing, mirroring Ashiaʼs movements and almost immediately, Ashia giggled.

What had Ashia thinking was the fact that this little girl needed a name. She was sure Vyndariel had zero interests in naming her, as such, it was her duty to do that. If she had at least a name, that would count as an importance of some sort.

"Since you need a name... How about I call you..."

"..."

"Aha!" Ashia gently balled her fist. "What about Lirien?!"

"...Li...Rien..." her dull voice uttered. "I... Like..."

And on that day, two sisters were born.