I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

One week.

It had been one week since I woke up from the abyss of unconsciousness.

But it had been six months since I was summoned into this tumultuous reality.

Baaaam!

The sound of my fist colliding with the solid surface reverberated through the air, a testament to the force behind my strike. I stood in a special training room, meticulously designed by the Demons for my rigorous regimen. This place was no ordinary training ground—it was an arena where the very fabric of space conspired against me.

Gravity here was an unforgiving force, bearing down on me with relentless pressure. To add to the challenge, the ambient mana was rendered inert, making it impossible to channel any magical energy.

Sweat cascaded down my dark hair, trailing over my face and dripping onto my bare torso. My body still bore the scars of past battles, the burn marks etched into my skin a constant reminder of my ordeals. Though they had faded somewhat, their presence was still palpable.

My left leg and right arm had miraculously regenerated, a gift from the Demons’ arcane techniques that triggered my second awakening. Watching my own limbs grow back was a disconcerting experience, a surreal blend of awe and horror.

As I continued my relentless push-ups, I caught sight of the inky black marks snaking along my arms—curses that seemed to intertwine with my very essence. They looked sinister, like dark vines wrapping around my flesh. I didn’t fully understand their origin, but I suspected it was linked to the Dark Magic that I had recently awakened. This new power came with a price: my emotions felt distant, muted.

I was no longer the same person, not as attuned to my feelings as I once was.

Perhaps it was the absence of Khione and my other allies that weighed on me. Or maybe the treachery of the Divine Knights had left deeper scars than I realized. Aphrodite had warned me about Poseidon’s obsession with Khione. He was relentless, constantly searching for her. The only reason she remained hidden was because of Aphrodite’s intervention. She had offered to let me see Khione, but I declined.

I needed to deal with Poseidon first and ensure he was no longer a threat.

Only then would I claim Khione as mine, securing her safety and our future.

My thoughts drifted to those I left behind in the Empire of Light—Courtney, Amelia, Aisha, Sienna, and Siara. Each of them held a special place in my heart, and their well-being weighed heavily on my mind.

I had no idea what was happening there now.

They were probably still training, but the details eluded me. A part of me longed to see them, yet that desire was faint. My drive to grow stronger had somehow overshadowed my emotions.

Was that a good thing? I wasn’t sure.

My focus now was entirely on Tenebria. The state of this realm was far more dire than I had imagined, and I began to understand why they had summoned me. The Demon King was conspicuously absent, and the Princess offered no answers to my questions. Whether the Demon King was dead or simply elsewhere, I couldn’t tell. For now, the Demon Princess Azariah was the one ruling the Kingdom.

“Kyaa!”

A sudden, high-pitched cry pierced the air, capturing my attention. I frowned and turned to face the source of the sound.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the intruder in my training room. She was on her knees, struggling to breathe under the oppressive pressure. Her chest heaved, and her cheeks were flushed. Long, blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her red eyes gazed at me with a pleading expression.

I walked over to the control panel and deactivated the room’s gravity settings. Once the environment normalized, the girl looked up at me with a relieved smile.

She was Ameriah Tenebria, the second Princess of the Tenebria Kingdom and the younger sister of Azariah. From the moment I had regained consciousness, she had been a constant presence, relentlessly curious about my world. Despite my cold reactions and outright refusals, she persisted, shadowing my every move. It was puzzling, especially given her apparent illness.

“Lord Samael, thank you,” she said shyly, her gaze averted.

I wiped the sweat from my body with a towel, tossing it aside before slipping on a fresh shirt.

“What are you doing here? I told you not to disturb my training,” I said, my voice cold.

“I… I apologize, Lord Samael,” Ameriah stammered, standing up with difficulty as she straightened her dress.

I stared at her.

In terms of looks, she had nothing to envy in her older sister. Her beauty transcended human standards, just below that of the Goddesses. While her figure wasn’t as voluptuous as her sister’s, she had her own unique charm with a slender waist and a delicate, fragile frame.

Strange.

Previously, I might have already tried to secure her for my own desires, but now I found myself much more patient, not looking at her with such blatant lust. But I couldn’t help but wonder why she continued to approach me despite my constant rejections.

It seemed to be all about her curiosity regarding the outside world. I had heard that because of her health, she wasn’t allowed to leave the palace. Perhaps that was why.

Walking toward her, I grasped her hand forcefully.

“Ha!” she gasped as I pulled her to her feet. I stared at her, my right eye hidden by a cloth while my left, once burned to a crisp, was now healed, bearing a burn mark but transformed into a golden eye with a vertical demonic slit.

That demonic gold eye, uncovered, bore into Ameriah, who gulped and averted her gaze. My hand reached out, caressing her soft, unblemished, yet pale cheek.

“U… Um… Lord Samael?” Ameriah’s voice trembled with nervousness.

The dark desire to taint her flickered within me, yet my gaze remained cold and neutral. I was examining her.

“Aren’t you scared of me?” I asked, my tone as cold as ever since I woke up.

Everyone in the palace was scared of me. Their initial fear only grew after they witnessed my dark magic and my absurd progress rate.

Ameriah’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might flee. But then, she took a deep breath and met my gaze, though she still trembled. “I… I am not scared of you, Lord Samael,” she said softly. “You… you intrigue me.”

I raised an eyebrow, releasing her hand but not stepping back. “Intrigue you? And why is that?”

She hesitated, glancing down at her hands. “Because you are different. You are from another world, yet you have endured so much here. You possess strength and resilience that I admire. And… and I believe you can help us.”

Her words were sincere, and despite my cold exterior, I could sense the genuine concern and hope in her voice.