The Bird Claw’s Legacy

Wawalde gazed at Haelana VII’s corpse beneath the black velvet cloth, then slowly began to speak:

“A human? That’s not entirely surprising, though; many demons were once humans or elves, and far too many have walked the path of depravity.”

‘Depravity? No, ascension! Only the fear of the Highest Heavens’ power, felt by weak humans, could lead them to use such a derogatory term.’

“According to legend,” Sovenia lowered her legs from the chair, her toes barely touching the ground, “he came from another world—though which world, no one knows. He ended up in the Demon Realm and was promptly tossed into a mine by a local demon warlord, forced to work alongside other captured humans.”

Finding her toes barely touching the ground too uncomfortable, she stood up to continue speaking:

“Within the mine, he met a human female named Haelana. Later, legend has it that for reasons unknown, he acquired a bird claw and made a wish upon it. Let me see, perhaps it’s here in this bedchamber?”

Wawalde’s brows furrowed. “A bird claw? What kind of bird claw?”

Sovenia offered no reply, instead moving towards a wall in the bedchamber. After tapping the surface a few times, a small cabinet door became visible.

Her slender fingers traced lightly over the cabinet door, causing dark golden demonic runes to glow beneath her touch, emitting a low hum.

Recognizing its master, the cabinet’s demonic runes pulsed three times before springing open with a soft click.

Sovenia reached deep into the cabinet, fumbled for a moment, then turned around, holding the object aloft.

That was a withered claw, its three toe bones curled tightly into a fist, with sharp nails that gleamed with an eerie, dark red luster.

Wawalde remained rooted to the spot, his emerald eyes fixed intently on the claw as he slowly uttered:

“That… that thing… it looks like a leftover chicken foot?”

Sovenia cast her gaze down at the bird claw in her hand, thinking, ‘Indeed, it really does resemble a chicken foot.’

She then looked at Wawalde, stating impassively, “It is said to grant wishes, but at a price.”

Returning to the dining table, she placed the bird claw upon its surface. Under the candlelight, the withered claw cast a distorted shadow that writhed on the wall, as if alive.

“At that time, Jimi made a wish, received the gaze of an evil god, and was blessed. From then on, he carved a bloody path, advanced to become a stronger demon, rising step by step until he ultimately became the First Heavenly King. And by his side, there was also a human servant named Haelana.”

As Sovenia spoke these words, her mind involuntarily drifted back to that initial scene.

It was in a disused tunnel, deep within the mine. She—no, back then she was ‘he’, that human mine s*ave, covered in wounds, clutching this bird claw tightly in his hand.

Haelana stood before him. “Don’t… don’t touch that thing! It must be an evil artifact of the demons!”

Yet, he no longer cared for such warnings. The mine supervisor had beaten three more people to death that day, five had starved, and he was next. He refused to die; he would live, he would seek revenge, and he would become strong.

Thus, he made his first wish.

“I want to become a powerful being, two meters and ten centimeters tall, with two hearts, three lungs, and a black carapace beneath my skin… scientifically named Astarte.”

The bird claw remained silent for a moment, then detached itself from his grip, sketching a line of text on the ground: [Word limit: fifteen characters.]

Simultaneously, one of the bird claw’s fingers extended downwards, signifying that he had already used one wish.

Anxiously, he declared, “I want to ascend! I want to cultivate immortality!”

Something awakened in the darkness. A ‘being’ from the Highest Heavens turned its gaze upon him.

Sovenia remembered; that was the beginning of the ascension.

The immense power from the Highest Heavens manifested as a sudden burst of red light from the darkness, pouring like a torrent into his seven orifices, tearing through his flesh and blood. He embraced this power, allowing it to purge and reshape his very being.

Amidst the agony of that ascension, he howled loudly, his body beginning to ‘ascend,’ his bones emitting a grating, shattering sound.

When the light dissipated.

Haelana screamed, stumbling backward and falling to the ground, watching his metamorphosis in horror.

When it was all over, he was no longer human… no, he had ascended into an entirely new species. He turned and departed, returning by evening, dragging the supervisor’s corpse.

That day, having acquired a starting fund, he was finally able to use his ‘golden finger’ to gradually strengthen himself.

But from that day on, Haelana never looked at him with the same eyes again.

Sovenia lowered her eyelids, her long lashes pressing the memory back into her heart. Lifting her head, she looked at Wawalde and calmly added:

“You see, all three of its claws are now clenched into a fist. This signifies that Jimi the Cruel has already used it to make all three of her wishes.”

Wawalde stared at the bird claw, the vigilance in his eyes undiminished. Instead of approaching, he took half a step back.

“That thing… it’s definitely an evil artifact. I can feel the malevolence emanating from it.”

“It’s fine,” Sovenia said. “You see how all three of its claws are clenched? That means Jimi the Cruel has already made all three of her wishes with it. It’s merely a souvenir now.”

‘However, that’s only true for Jimi the Cruel…’

Wawalde moved towards Haelana VII’s corpse in the corner. “So that’s how it is… she actually followed Jimi the Cruel for so long?”

“No,” Sovenia shook her head. “This is the seventh.”

“The seventh?” Wawalde was stunned. “You mean…”

“Haelana the Seventh,” Sovenia emphasized the number. “After each Haelana died, he would find a new human female and give her the same name.”

Wawalde’s expression grew even grimmer. “How did the first one die, then?”

Sovenia fell silent for a moment, then slowly began, “She loathed Jimi the Cruel as he was back then. When he transformed into a demon, she saw him and called him a monster, even though he had brought her out of the mine and provided her with a safe life free from worry.”

“That sounds,” Wawalde frowned, “as if Jimi the Cruel might have been somewhat excusable? I mean, if he was only reviled because of a change in race…”

Sovenia interrupted him. “Perhaps it was because she saw him performing ‘energy recycling’.”

“What do you mean by ‘energy recycling’?”

“It means consuming the corpses of his demon supervisor compatriots to recover energy and heal injuries.” Sovenia’s tone remained calm, as if describing the most normal thing imaginable. “Haelana saw it and felt he was no longer the man she knew, calling him a monster.”

She remembered how he, wounded and scarred from battling the supervisor, had found a corner to perform ‘energy recycling’ after bringing Haelana food.

Wawalde drew a deep breath. “Then Haelana was perfectly normal. Any normal person seeing that sight would… In short, Jimi the Cruel got what he deserved. Was that woman important to him?”

“They supported each other when they were both mine slaves,” Sovenia said, a strange emotion stirring within her. She wanted to say something in her own defense, to explain to her sworn enemy who had beheaded her. “Even though he performed ‘energy recycling,’ Haelana was still holding the food Jimi the Cruel had given her when she called him a monster.”

“But Haelana wasn’t wrong,” Wawalde’s voice hardened. “Jimi the Cruel had already resorted to cannibalism… he had become a monster, just as he is now. Thankfully, he’s dead.”

Sovenia sharply interjected, “It was ‘energy recycling’!”

Wawalde asked in surprise, “Is there a difference?”

“Yes.”

Wawalde stared at her for a few seconds, then shook his head. “Alright, whatever you call it, he couldn’t have killed Haelana, could he?”

“He didn’t kill her.”

“I thought he had killed Haelana.”

“He found Haelana a job in the Demon Realm.”

“A personal maid?”

“Precisely,” Sovenia nodded. “She tasted poison for him, and then she died.”

Wawalde opened his mouth, as if to speak, but ultimately only sighed. His gaze lingered on Sovenia’s face for a moment, his tone tinged with confusion:

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me about a deceased Jimi the Cruel? He’s already dead; I personally severed his head.”

Sovenia’s heart clenched abruptly. She lowered her eyelashes, masking her gaze, and replied in as light a tone as possible, “Just idle chatter. What do you think of it all?”

“All who walk the path of depravity end up the same, unremarkable,” Wawalde said, turning to walk towards the window, his back to her. “Jimi the Cruel may once have been human, but he had long since become a monster. I wish I could chop off his head again.”

Sovenia watched his retreating back, a cold glint flashing in her golden eyes.

‘Good, good, so the foolish dog speaks thus. I’ll just add an extra stab when I backstab him later.’

She picked up the bird claw from the table, walked behind Wawalde, and offered it to him. “Here, take it as a trophy.”

Wawalde turned around, saw the bird claw in her hand, and instinctively recoiled, but Sovenia had already presented it directly before him.

The moment the bird claw neared Wawalde, a strange phenomenon occurred.

The three claws, which had been tightly clenched into a fist, suddenly began to slowly unfurl, emitting a faint, grating sound of bone.

Wawalde’s face paled dramatically, and he abruptly leaped backward, his hand already on his axe hilt. “What in the world is happening?!”

Sovenia gazed at the open bird claw in her hand and calmly stated, “The bird claw seems to have taken a liking to you. Make a wish, and it can grant you three.”

‘No matter what, a foolish dog who is a demon is easier to control than a foolish dog who is human; at least their core values align.’

“What kind of joke is this?!” Wawalde snatched up his battle-axe, its blade reflecting a cold gleam in the candlelight. “I’ll cleave it in two right now! It clearly looks like an evil artifact!”

He stepped forward, raising his battle-axe.

Sovenia immediately tucked the bird claw back into her robes, her body subtly turning to block Wawalde’s line of sight.

“Hand it over, Miss Sovenia.” Wawalde lowered his voice, his tone growing serious. “This thing cannot remain.”

Sovenia shook her head. “No, it must at least be kept as a trump card, something to use in times of dire need…”

“Miss Sovenia!” Wawalde’s voice rose. “You don’t understand how dangerous this thing is! It has already harmed people; we cannot let it harm anyone else!”

Sovenia remained silent, merely staring at him with her indifferent golden eyes.