Isabelle! Go get the Madam! The Patriarch is back!"
The shout tore through the silence of the estate.
Hearing this, Isabelle, with little Damien clutched securely in her arms, bolted toward the nearest window.
When she looked down at the courtyard, her lower lip began to quiver uncontrollably.
Who was her master?
Theron Voss. The World's Strongest Man. The King of Darkness.
But looking at the scene below, she struggled to connect those titles to the broken figure she saw.
Surrounded by a swarm of family doctors, Theron was being rushed inward on a stretcher. His condition was nothing short of horrific.
Two broken greatswords were still impaled through his abdomen, and nearly every inch of his skin was swathed in blood-soaked bandages.
If she hadn't seen the expression on his face, she would have assumed he was a corpse.
But he wasn't dead.
Despite the swords, despite the blood loss, despite the sheer carnage etched into his flesh, Theron Voss was smiling.
It was a maniacal, carefree grin, as if he had just returned from a pleasant stroll rather than death's door.
Why was he smiling? Perhaps only a madman like him knew the answer.
However, the infant in Isabelle's arms paid no mind to his half-dead father.
Damien's attention was completely hijacked by the translucent blue screen hovering before his eyes.
Ever since the messenger arrived, a cascade of mechanical chimes had been battering his mind, leaving him stunned.
[Ding! Detecting deviation from the Original Plot…]
[Character 'Theron Voss' fate has been altered.]
[Character 'Theron Voss' now possesses an increased probability of breaking through to the 9th Order.]
[Alert: Detected the death of two 8th Order entities.]
[Warning: Character 'Theron Voss' has been marked by the Void Demon God.]
[Warning: Multiple Gods and Demons have taken an interest in the House of Voss.]
[Calculating subsequent Butterfly Effect…]
Reading the wall of text, a drop of cold sweat rolled down Damien's chubby neck.
'That damn, crazy old man! What the hell happened in that battle?!'
Damien's thoughts raced, cursing inwardly.
'Okay, analyze. Thanks to the Immortality Buff I bought, Dad didn't just survive. He managed to turn the tables and slaughter two of his opponents.'
'In an era where the 8th Order is the peak and the 9th Order is a myth, killing two equals in a 1v3 scenario is impossible. It defies logic.'
Damien rubbed his temples, or tried to, with his clumsy baby hands. Truthfully, he was relieved. His father had survived. He had come home to him and his mother.
He recalled the original novel's timeline: the anguish on his mother Elizabeth's face, her eventual imprisonment, and the collapse of the Voss family.
He had prevented that.
'But… what is the rest of this trash?!'
'Marked by the Void Demon God?!'
'Multiple Gods and Demons watching us?!'
'I can ignore the Void Demon God for now, that bastard was the mastermind behind the ambush anyway.
But being watched by a gallery of other Deities? In this wretched world, that is a death sentence!'
Frustrated, Damien grabbed a fistful of his own baby hair. He racked his brain, trying to recall the lore of 'The Hero Returns.'
'In this universe, Gods and Demons are two sides of the same coin. A God might commit genocide for faith points, while a Demon might save a village on a whim.
The only reason they have different labels is because of the Great Divine War millennia ago.'
'The victors took the Heavens and called themselves Gods. The losers were cast into the Abyss and branded Demons.'
'History is written by the winners. And right now, both sides are staring at my house.'
Just as his anxiety peaked, a new chime echoed in his mind.
[Calculation Complete!]
[Impact Assessment: Major Plot Deviation.]
[Reward: 1,000 Destiny Points (DP).]
Damien's eyes went wide.
'One… one thousand?'
'Haha! So that's how it works!'
The fear evaporated, replaced by a surge of greed.
'If I change the major plot points, if I twist the narrative away from the original tragedy, I get paid. And I get paid well.'
With 1,000 DP, he had not only recovered the cost of the Immortality Buff but profited tenfold. This was the key. This was how he would survive until the finale.
'But I need to test the limits. Do minor characters count? Can I edit an event twice? Are there side effects to spamming DP?'
He forced himself to calm down. Those were questions for later.
Right now, the reality was grim. Theron had won, but the Voss family was crippled. The high-end combat power was decimated.
The Patriarch was a mummy. And the cosmic entities of the universe were watching them like hawks.
'Dad has 24 hours left on the Immortality Buff. That should be enough for him to stabilize. If not, I'll burn more DP to extend it.'
Damien clenched his tiny fists.
'More importantly… I can't let this infant body hold me back anymore.'
'I need strength. Enough strength to face the challenges rushing toward us.'
'Enough strength that no God, Demon, or Protagonist dares to look in my direction!'
In his previous life, the character Damien Voss was destined to become the "King of Ten Thousand Monsters", a mid-tier villain meant to be farmed by the hero for experience points.
'Screw that,' Damien thought, his eyes burning with determination.
'With this System, who cares about being a King of Monsters? I'm going to be the King of Ten Thousand Worlds!'
"Aaaah! Baaa!"
He yelled his ambition to the heavens!
…Or at least, he tried to. It came out as an incoherent baby shriek.
Before he could attempt a second war cry, a wave of crushing fatigue washed over him. His eyelids felt like lead weights.
'Damn… baby… body…' Damien mentally groaned, his consciousness fading. 'I really… can't wait… to grow up…'
Isabelle, noticing the young master's sudden lack of energy, smiled warmly.
She gently rocked him, completely unaware that she was holding a transmigrator plotting world domination.
"Oh, Young Master, look at you. It's time for your nap," she cooed, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
"Don't you worry. I'll take care of the Master and Madam. They'll be so happy to see you when you wake up."
She lowered him gently into his crib, the soft bedding swallowing him up, and quietly stepped out of the room.