Rise of The Demon General 2 Chapter 2

Amon's immediate thought was that he had landed in inescapable hell. His soul, thrust into the fragile form of an infant, was now subjected to supposed punishments for his past transgressions. However, fear was a stranger to him. Having endured and inflicted countless torments throughout his existence, he found himself anticipating the inventive cruelties his new tormentors might devise.

Yet, no torture materialized. Instead, he received meticulous care, a form of torment in itself for a once-feared general who had instilled terror across the globe. Now, reduced to a helpless baby, he was tended to, fed, and even cleaned. He mused it was the devil's own creative stroke of genius in designing his eternal suffering.

Days bled into weeks, and Amon gradually relinquished the notion of hell. He could sense his body developing, and those around him engaged in activities beyond merely attending to his needs. The reality of his situation began to sink in.

Still, he remained convinced this wasn't Earth, or at least not the Earth he knew. The primary divergence was the language. It bore no resemblance to any tongue he had encountered. While he possessed fluency in numerous Earth languages and could identify many others, this new dialect was utterly alien.

His second clue was their technology. The lamps, books, and writing tools were unlike anything he had ever seen. Lamps, for instance, weren't illuminated by electricity. Upon opening their books, runes would float, and some even conjured moving images.

A third peculiar aspect was his caretaker – the individual he designated as such. Amon noticed no parental figures, no couples displaying affection toward him. Instead, a collective of men and women exhibited a palpable curiosity about his presence.

These individuals shared the responsibility of his care, but a certain elder consistently watched over him each evening. This elder resembled a grandfather more than a father. Amon saw no one he could identify as his mother or father, though it mattered little. The elder who kept vigil was the one he came to regard as his caretaker.

The caretaker's nightly ritual solidified Amon's conviction that this realm differed from his homeland. After ensuring Amon was asleep, the elder would assume a cross-legged meditation posture. Amon, feigning sleep, would observe the man as vibrant lights coalesced and swirled around him, resembling a display of pure magic.

This spectacle ignited Amon's curiosity, illuminating the realization that this world operated under entirely different principles than his former one.

His caretakers began instructing him in their strange tongue. Even before their lessons, Amon had been absorbing their conversations, gradually piecing together the local language. While not yet fluent, he grasped fragments of their speech.

During these lessons, he feigned a lack of understanding, opting to play the part of a normal infant while he continued his observations. He was still uncertain about the true nature of this world and believed it prudent to maintain his facade.

When unobserved, Amon diligently practiced standing and walking, a challenging endeavor given his infant limbs. Approximately four months into his new existence, he achieved unaided locomotion. Naturally, in the presence of others, he reverted to his helpless state in the crib.

Once mobile within his room, he turned his attention to the intriguing magical books. Opening them revealed letters that seemed to dance, forming intricate patterns. Though he couldn't decipher the script, as his caretakers hadn't taught him to read their writing, this didn't deter his efforts to comprehend them.

Gradually, he began associating certain runes with the words he had learned. When his caretaker eventually commenced teaching him their written language, his comprehension accelerated exponentially. Despite this rapid progress, he maintained his pretense of being an ordinary baby.

By eight months of age, Amon could read books with a reasonable degree of understanding, though some nuances still eluded him. He grasped the majority of the written content.

Through the sparse books available and overheard conversations from his caretakers, he began to grasp the fundamental structure of this new reality. This world, known as Aetheria, operated not on the principles of logic and science that had governed his previous existence, but on a mystical energy source referred to by its inhabitants as Aether. The world itself derived its name from this pervasive, enigmatic force.

Aether permeated everything, capable of being manipulated to manifest creations or achieve extraordinary feats. One particular text he studied detailed Aether’s ability to command the elements, such as fire and lightning, allowing those who mastered its use to perform acts akin to what his old world called magic.

Upon learning of this wondrous phenomenon, Amon couldn't suppress a thrill of excitement, viewing it as a novel and intriguing plaything.

He also discovered that the nightly 'light shows' performed by his caretaker were a process known as cultivation – the absorption and refinement of surrounding Aether to nourish an internal energy core. This core, the books explained, began to form around the age of five and strengthened with appropriate cultivation techniques, with the potential to evolve to higher stages upon reaching the limits of its current one.

While the concept was captivating, the prospect of waiting until he was five years old seemed tediously long. Nevertheless, with no other recourse, he resolved to continue his learning through books until his energy core manifested.

By the age of one, Amon ceased concealing his reading habits. He would simply fetch a book, find a quiet corner, and read diligently while the others went about their routines. Most perceived him as merely a quiet, bookish child and paid him little mind.

The dwelling, or rather the sprawling mansion he inhabited, comprised a series of connected structures. By his old-world standards, it was quite substantial, yet its inhabitants numbered only fourteen – nine men and five women.

From their intermittent, casual discussions that Amon would selectively overhear, he inferred they were once part of a significant clan. Their association with a cult that trafficked in forbidden knowledge had apparently led to severe repercussions from the city lord, and they had been in a state of decline ever since.

Their primary means of sustenance derived from performing tasks for other clans and from the medicinal concoctions prepared by the eldest woman residing in the mansion.

At two years of age, Amon had begun exploring the mansion with greater freedom. The residents, largely viewing him as simply an inquisitive youngster, allowed him to wander. He frequently observed the elderly woman as she prepared her remedies. It was during these observations that he discerned some of her concoctions were, in fact, potent poisons. His keen eye noted that she seemed to market more of these deadly substances than actual cures.

He paid close attention to the locations where she stored her ingredients and the records of her recipes. Crucially, she maintained a notebook within her workroom. When she was absent, Amon would retrieve this notebook and study its contents. While not an alchemical master, he possessed some prior knowledge from his previous life, having dealt extensively with toxins.

Initially, the notebook's entries proved baffling, filled with unfamiliar terms and ingredients entirely alien to him. Yet, he pored over them patiently, cross-referencing with the physical components and recipes present in the workroom. Gradually, a coherent understanding began to dawn.

He refrained from any practical experimentation, recognizing that such an action would likely be detected. For the time being, he resolved to inwardly digest and retain all this newfound knowledge.

During his third year of life, Amon sensed a peculiar change stirring within his own body.