Chapter 20: The Demonic Familiar

" Who are you? " the young woman murmured, convinced she was alone.

You can call me Phoenix. I am your demonic familiar.

I hear everything you hear, I see everything you see.

To speak to me, you must do it out loud — otherwise, I won’t hear you.

"So… you can’t read my mind?"

You learn quickly.

You are my mistress, I am your subordinate. You may give me orders.

If you level up, I will be able to access your mind, but only at its highest tier — to help you even if you’re gagged.

For now, I only feel your emotions. And know this: even if you’re afraid… nothing obliges me to help you.

Charming. Absolutely charming.

The idea of being bound somewhere one day, relying solely on a sarcastic demon for survival, was not exactly reassuring.

"Do you have a form? Or do you exist only in my head?"

I am here.

A sharp noise immediately rang out.

Something was scratching at the window.

Blanche turned to the large glass doors overlooking the garden: a black cat was staring at her, perched on the frame, its gray eyes glowing in the dim light. Its gaze pierced her.

A cat.

Her demonic familiar was a cat.

Seriously? Cliché or not, she felt her heart tighten.

She hurried to open the door, softened despite herself. The door barely creaked under her hurried hand, letting in a breath of cooler air, carrying a presence she recognized instantly.

On the threshold, the cat waited. Of a deep, absolute black—almost unreal—it seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Its fur, sleek and dense, allowed no glimmer through, like a fragment of night resting there, perfectly still. Its eyes, however, sharply contrasted with that total darkness—bright, alert, aware—fixed on her with a calm, almost unsettling intensity.

Blanche had always had a weakness for felines—and she would have gladly slapped herself for it. The simple grace of the animal, the way it held itself, perfectly in control, stirred that instinctive tenderness in her that she refused to acknowledge.

She must not forget that it was a demon.

And yet, nothing in its demeanor suggested immediate danger. It didn’t hiss, didn’t bare its fangs. It simply waited. Its tail moved in a slow, almost lazy rhythm, while it tilted its head slightly, as if assessing her reaction, as if it already understood the conflict within her.

But deep down… maybe that word didn’t mean what she thought it did. After all, she had only just learned that gods, djinns, and drakions existed. Maybe all of this had nothing to do with human legends.

The thought settled in gently, cracking her certainties. The word “demon” lost, for a moment, some of its harshness, its weight of fear and prohibition. In front of her was not a creature from a nightmare… but a living being, tangible, almost familiar in the way it occupied space.

The cat took a step forward, silent, gliding rather than walking. And despite herself, Blanche felt her resistance falter just a little more.

A cold breath snapped her back to reality.

Epsilon’s winter had entered the room.

She quickly closed the doors, while the cat approached and gracefully leapt onto her lap.

"And… how do I make you evolve?"

The demon practically purred with satisfaction. Without warning, it climbed onto her legs and curled up against her. Blanche wobbled, straightened, then held it close without quite knowing why.

You can improve one of your four special skills at your fifth mission.

If you want to strengthen me, simply choose me.

"At the expense of the others, I imagine…"

Beautiful and smart. I like it.

"I would’ve hated to be bound to someone ugly and stupid, "she said with a smile.

The demon’s laughter echoed in her head before it vanished. Yet she still felt its weight in her arms.

Great.

It was playing Cheshire Cat now.

"And if I choose you, what happens?"

I will take increasingly useful forms, according to your needs.

"Very precise… " she murmured.

At that moment, a blue window appeared in front of her eyes: a familiar interface, typical of Epsilon. Her stats, normal skills, special abilities. Only the last one had changed.

Shadows — Level 1

Flame — Level 1

Time — Level 1

Familiar — Level 1

"Time, " she whispered.

A dial appeared in the corner of her vision. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight…

All around her, the world froze. The wind halted mid-course, the frozen branches remained motionless.

When the countdown reached zero, time resumed its flow.

"So cool!"

What?

"Didn’t you see?"

No answer. She tried again… but a red message blinked before her:

Estimated cooldown: 23:59:40

One use per day, then. And unlike other skills, it could only be upgraded every five levels.

She calculated quickly: five days per tier, ten levels… fifty days.

Too simple. She let him know.

Nice try, Phoenix sneered, darkly.

No, no. It takes five missions to reach the next level. And the higher you go, the more missions are required.

"So it works like a normal skill? Say… ten percent at level three?"

Well, now I understand why I’m here.

"How so?"

Let’s say He gave you an ally worthy of you.

The more powerful a being is at base, the more their potential multiplies.

"So you’re not a demon picked at random?"

I’m far from it, little mouse.

She let the remark slide, too busy estimating the time it would take to max everything.

"It would take me centuries! "she exclaimed, discouraged.

Why do you think you’re immortal?

The gods realized long ago that to entertain themselves for long, they needed toys that last…

"Champions in their arena, " Blanche murmured, suddenly chilled.

The time allotted to me has expired. Later, little mouse.

Silence fell. The cat had disappeared, leaving only a light emptiness in her arms.

By the doors, Blanche stared at the frozen garden, the grass whitened by frost. The snow here never held.

She crossed her arms, feeling her body tenser, more alive than before.

Then, just behind her, a familiar presence made the air shiver.