Solam knew that once he shed his demon body, he would definitely lose most of his power. But he had never expected to lose this much. After growing accustomed to the world-shaking, storm-commanding power he possessed as a demon, returning to the "pathetically weak" state of a mortal body left Solam somewhat unaccustomed.
Honestly, Solam felt rather dejected. But after a while, he put it aside. Solam rarely regretted anything. Since it had been his own choice, no matter how difficult it was to accept, he would face it. Besides, this was nothing to Solam.
Solam did not particularly care about the power his demon body possessed, because he could clearly sense that none of that power belonged to him at all. It belonged to the Abyss. Solam was clearheaded. He knew that the reason he had gained such immense power in so short a time was inseparable from the favor of the Will of the Abyss. From a very young age, Solam's grandfather had taught him a simple truth: things easily obtained were never good things.
That principle was especially true of power. You were just some young upstart who had spent only a few years in the Abyss, yet your strength could rival those titans who had lived for countless years—and there were no side effects? What were you thinking? How could the world possibly offer such a good deal? Solam knew very well that his power was too great, so great that even he could not control it. If he became immersed in it, he would certainly lose himself and eventually turn into an idiot he no longer recognized.
The gifts of the Abyss were not so easily accepted. The Abyss craved chaos and evil. It wanted more of the universe to fold back toward its ultimate