Forsaken By The Gods, I Made A Contract With the Demon King

The air hung heavy with tension as the portal's last remnants flickered out of existence. Silence swept through the crowd. From the heart of the collapsing vortex, a lone figure staggered forward. Gasps of disbelief rippled through the camps as the assembled factions realized who stood before them.

Levi.

His government-issued uniform, once sturdy, now barely clung to his battered and bloodied body. Torn at the seams, it hung loosely on his thin frame, threatening to fall apart with every step.

His face was smeared with dirt and dried blood, his jaw shadowed by uneven stubble, which was proof of the time he had spent inside the Sanctum. Though malnourished and skeletal, the way he moved—steady and unyielding—told a different story.

A makeshift sack, fashioned from black skin, hung over his back. It wasn't entirely visible, but those around recognized the talons and golden beak it bore—massive unmistakably.

Levi's eyes burned with a fierce, otherworldly light, a far cry from the exhausted, ragged exterior. They held an intensity that silenced even the boldest in the crowd. He had survived something far worse than any of them could imagine.

And now, he was back.

The world around Levi felt strange, disorienting. He had just left the sanctum, having recovered enough to walk, but now, as he stood before thousands of people, his mind struggled to reconcile with reality.

"What...?" His voice was hoarse, barely audible. He took a shaky step forward, his legs threatening to give way beneath him.

The pendant around his neck pulsed wildly—the Shadow Warden ability of the Eternal Vigil going wild, warning him of imminent danger.

Killing intent.

His skin prickled, and every hair stood on end. His vision blurred as he scanned the crowd, recognizing none of the faces near him. Yet, every one of them exuded a killing intent that sent chills down his spine.

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He had no idea why these people had gathered here.

'Do they know I'm a demonic follower?'

That was his first thought. Perhaps someone had seen him use his Demonic Transformation and reported him to the government. But if that were the case, why were there so many non-governmental figures present?

He stood motionless, dropping the sack made from the carcass of the monstrous bird and ready to jump into battle at any second.

By now, people were cautiously closing in, their eyes gleaming with a mix of awe, fear, and greed. Levi could feel it—their hunger for whatever treasure or power he had claimed within the sanctum. They were waiting, watching, assessing the right moment to strike.

"Stay back," he muttered coldly, struggling to control his breath. He was nervous and his voice was lost in the growing murmur of the crowd. No one even seemed to have the intention of hearing it out.

'Fuck! Why are these people after me?'

Levi thought genuinely confused.

Then, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, he saw her—Roze.

She was the government official who had helped him when he first returned from Paradise. For a brief moment, the hardened look in her eyes softened as she met his gaze. Relief flickered across her face, but it quickly faded, replaced by the same calculating expression everyone else wore.

Beside Roze, members of the Mercenary Federation stood in tight formation. Their leader, a tall man with a chiseled jaw, eyed Levi like a valuable asset being appraised. Levi recognized their insignia—they were technically his comrades now, at least on paper. Yet their presence only heightened the tension in the air. There was no sense of camaraderie, only suspicion and anticipation.

And then there were the others. Faces Levi didn't recognize—members of elite families, rogue operatives, and more than a few who appeared to be government agents from rival factions. All eyes were fixed on him, predatory and waiting for their moment.

Levi clenched his fists.

He hated it—the way they looked at him as if he were an insect beneath their feet. Their greed was overwhelming! They hungered for what he had acquired inside the Sanctum, the Artifacts, the Key of Lunacy, the Inheritance of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Even if he didn't fully understand their desires, one thing was clear - what he had gained was his, and he had no intention of giving it up.

The crowd edged closer, their movements slow but undeniably menacing. Levi stepped back, his mind racing for a way out.

Escape seemed impossible. The encirclement was too tight, and without revealing his Demonic transformation, there was no way he could break free. Even if he did transform, he could feel that there were people among them—powerful individuals—who could crush him with ease.

So he waited. And when they were close enough, he spoke.

"What is happening?" Levi muttered, his voice rough as he scanned the faces around him. He wasn't prepared for this, he had no idea what had transpired outside the Sanctum during his time inside.

It had felt like weeks, maybe a month, but there was no way of knowing for sure. The world outside had moved on without him, and now it seemed as if everyone had gathered, awaiting his return.

"Levias Drake!" a voice called out, cutting through the tension. It was Roze.

Levi turned toward her, blinking through the haze of exhaustion. She was pushing her way through the crowd, her eyes locking onto his. She stopped a few feet away, her expression neutral, though something deeper flickered in her eyes—concern, perhaps, or calculation.

"You've been gone for nearly a month," Roze said, her voice steady but kept low, careful not to draw too much attention. "Do you have any idea what's happening?"

Levi shook his head, trying to piece together the events.

Roze stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You need to come with me now. I'll explain everything. The government will take responsibility for you. This is getting out of hand."

Her words made Levi frown. What was getting out of hand? And why should he trust her?

But before he could respond, movement from the other side caught his attention.

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