You Core
You Core
“Swallow my familiar, Mapheltan. O Thirteenth End.”
Illea knelt on one knee, a serene smile on her face.
Mapheltan’s expression was steeped in confusion.
He wasn’t sure how to take this.
Her action was too sudden—what was he supposed to say? His mind wasn’t keeping up.
Regaining his composure, he spoke.
“I’ve no idea what’s going through your head.”
Normally, she was playful, but this felt different.
It didn’t seem like a joke.
If she was serious… a witch serving a god? That was unthinkable. Any reader of The Chronicle of Man and Demon would agree with him.
“I told you before,” she said, “I might accept you as the god of witches. I meant it exactly as I said.”
“Witches do not serve gods,” Mapheltan replied. “In fact, it’s more accurate to say they cannot. Your kind instinctively rejects being bound to anything.”
She didn’t deny it.
“That’s right. Even this world feels like a prison to me.”
All witches shared a single desire—To uncover the secrets of this world and ascend to a higher one.
They dreamed of Transcending the Heavens.
To surpass even the gods and set sail into the boundless cosmos.
“Your ancestors were the same,” he said. “They’d use anything as a tool if it meant reaching Transcendence. And now you say you’ll serve me? I find that hard to believe.”
Illea let out a soft sigh, smiling faintly.
“Transcendence… You really do know everything, Mapheltan. Probably more than I do about this world. I envy that. If I form a subjugation contract with you, your memories and information will be shared with me. That’s why I’d accept you as my god.”
A witch could peer into the memories of any being bound to her.
Every demon she’d contracted with before had added to her store of experiences.
Mapheltan frowned.
“For that, you’d have to make me your familiar, not your god.”
She shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter who’s the master—as long as the contract is formed, I can access your mind.”
That had never come up in the original story—because no witch had ever served under another being.
“I see,” he said. “Since I’d never be your familiar, you’re suggesting you enter my service instead.”
“Exactly,” she smiled. “It’s not such a bad deal for you either.”
Mapheltan chuckled dryly.
How deep must her obsession with Transcendence run, that she’d reject her own instincts and submit herself?
He didn’t quite understand—but from a pragmatic standpoint, the offer was tempting.
Having a witch as his subordinate would be an enormous advantage in his future plans.
It was hard not to be intrigued.
Though something still felt off.
“Then let me ask a few more things. First—what do you mean by ‘swallow the World Tree’?”
“As you know, a witch can break down her familiar into pure demonic essence. The core made from that—You Core—is the finest elixir for demons. If you take the World Tree’s core, your growth will skyrocket. Consider it my gift to you.”
That gave him pause.
The World Tree was far too valuable to reduce to a mere You Core.
It had far greater potential uses.
In fact, Illea had her own plans for it.
“It’s too much of a waste to make a core out of the World Tree,” he said. “You know that. Is there another motive here?”
She replied calmly,
“Calling it a motive might be too grand—let’s just say it’s my ultimate goal.”
“And that is?”
“I want to offer you all evils. Devour every demon in existence and become the Mother of All Evil, Mapheltan.”
In the original story, Illea gathered countless demons into one mass of pure malice—The Mother of All Evil, the primordial darkness, blind and malignant.
It granted her power on par with a god, a foundation for Transcendence.
Mapheltan gave a short laugh.
“So in short—you need a tool disguised as a god.”
The Mother of All Evil was just a means to an end, discarded when no longer useful.
For the first time, her smile faded.
“A tool? No, I—”
“I refuse. Use the World Tree as you originally planned.”
In the original, Illea sacrificed the World Tree to open the gates to the underworld—
to find a vessel for the Mother of All Evil.
That vessel had been the imp Nahagrem.
Illea lowered her head slightly.
“I don’t understand. This benefits us both—why refuse so quickly?”
“If I devour all evils, I’ll lose myself and humanity. Only blind malice will remain. I don’t want that ending.”
“I could be there to help you hold on—to keep ‘Johan’ from fading.”
“Also, I don’t like the idea of you seeing all my memories.”
How far would that reading go? Possibly even into his life before possession.
It might be overthinking, but the risk was real.
“Last time you wanted to share with me,” she said quietly.
That had been when he tried to tell her about The Chronicle of Man and Demon, stopped only by a ban.
“This is different. Giving you selected information is not the same as letting you see everything.”
Illea slowly rose to her feet. Her expression was more subdued now.
“I understand.”
“Upset?”
“A little. But I accept it. I guess it’s not the right time yet.”
“Thanks for understanding. Our relationship is best kept equal.”
Then she took something out.
“In that case, think of this as a gift between partners.”
A black sphere glimmered in her hand.
Mapheltan narrowed his eyes.
“Illea… don’t tell me—”
It was a You Core. She had already reduced the World Tree to one.
Malice poured endlessly from the orb.
“I was a bit rash. I should’ve asked first. But please—take it. No strings attached.”
To tell a demon to eat the World Tree raw—how could he not feel the weight of it?
Zal’karin glanced at Mapheltan and stammered,
“If you don’t want it, it's rotten—!”
Raguel sighed.
“Think before you talk, idiot.” He snatched up the little demon.
Illea stepped closer to Mapheltan.
“I’d be truly hurt if you refused this too.”
She thrust the You Core toward him, her expression firm.
It was a troublesome gift—demons would sell their souls for this.
“I’m telling you now, I have nothing to give in return,” he said.
“I told you—it’s a gift. If you feel bad, give me something someday in return.”
He studied the orb.
“I’ll try. But don’t expect too much.”
Nothing could truly match the value of this You Core.
She nodded.
“Then take it. Even reduced to a stump, the World Tree’s core will still be incredibly potent.”
Probably more than massacring an entire city could grant him.
He’d be a fool not to take it.
For the sake of growth, he couldn’t afford to be picky.
Taking the Core, he said,
“Thanks, always. I’ll try to repay you.”
Then he popped it into his mouth without hesitation.
No disgust, no revulsion—his situation was too dire for that.
The effects hit instantly.
His red eyes flashed; black smoke burst from every pore.
Concentrated malice coursed through his body.
Pleasure and pain struck together—he couldn’t keep his mind.
To avoid losing himself, he chose madness.
His body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut, convulsions continuing even on the ground.
***
“Ghh—hhuuuhhh!”
Johan bolted upright in bed.
Soaked in sweat, he looked like he’d had a nightmare.
Breathing heavily, he checked himself over.
The sun was up.
He was in his human body—inside the lord’s manor.
He remembered nothing of what happened in between.
As his head throbbed, a familiar voice spoke.
“Awake sooner than I thought?”
Illea sat at the table beside the bed.
The moment he saw her, the memories of last night came rushing back.
“What happened? Where’s Mapheltan?”
She pretended to think.
“Mm… sturdier than before?”
“What?”
“Congratulations—Mapheltan’s no longer an immature demon.”
He’d evolved to his mature form—seizing years of growth in one leap.
It was good news.
“…Honestly, I’m still dazed.”
“See for yourself later—you’ll be pleased.”
“How long until nightfall?”
“In a hurry, aren’t you? It’s still morning—rest for the day.”
“No,” Johan said, shaking his head. “I still have things to do.”
“If you mean the Abyss entrance, I already tidied it up.”
The church would eventually send an investigation team to Death Gorge.
If they detected changes to the Abyss, it could be troublesome.
Some camouflage was necessary—and it seemed she’d handled it well.
“Well done. Then I’ll meet Count now,” he said.
“Now?” she asked, tilting her head.
“There’s no time to waste. Get ready—you’re coming too.”
She sighed lightly, as if she couldn’t stop him.
“Not even a day’s break…”
“If we dawdle, we might get hit with a counterattack.”
The Count might link the capital attack to the Abyss.
That would be disastrous.
Better to act before that happened.
She rose from her seat.
“No rest for the wicked, I see.”
“You’ll get a vacation later,” he said without thinking—like a superior to a subordinate.
Illea gave him a look somewhere between disbelief and amusement.
“…I thought we were equals,” she murmured softly.
But Johan didn’t hear her.