I Can Copy Curses

Kane appeared before them in that moment, his sword resting on his shoulder as he looked at the Ten Seats and the Seven Demon Kings with impatience.

"What's with the offended looks?" he asked, noticing the serious expressions on the faces of the Ten Seats as they took in his arrival. "I'm human, you know." He laughed it off, but his attempt at levity didn't seem to have the desired effect. Their expressions remained unchanged.

"Humph, even though I don't like you, I'm pleased that you came," Morkel remarked with a slight smile.

Kane smiled back. "Heh, of course I'd come. How could I miss the chance to play with these demons, angels, and celestials?" His sword gleamed with a blood-red light as he spoke, as if the weapon itself were eager to taste the blood of the other races.

"I think we've stalled long enough. It's time we do what we're here for," Darwin said as his hands began to manifest a red divine bow. He was one of the Ten Seats—Seat of Artemis.

"HAHAHAH!" The Demon Kings started laughing madly at that moment. "You fools. You will lose this war and you will lose this domain. Humans will leave everything in this war."

As he spoke, his four fists punched forward, tearing four holes into the fabric of space itself. Each one moved swiftly toward the Ten Seats.

"Let me handle it," Kane stepped forward, raising his sword with calm confidence. With a light, seemingly effortless swing, his blade descended.

A radiant flash of swordlight cleaved through the air, striking each of the spatial rifts. In an instant, the four holes in space disintegrated into nothingness, obliterated into the depths of oblivion.

"Humph, the strongest genius of the human race. This title seems to have some value," the demon sneered, seeing his attack blocked so easily.

"Looking at your ability, you must be Azryth, the Lord of Desolation," Kane said, eyeing the four-armed demon, whose hair reached down to his shoulders. He had a circular face.

He added with a smirk, "Why don't you use your ability, Void Dominion?"

Azryth's face darkened at the mention of his name. "Kane, was it?" he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Although you are the number one genius of this universe, your strength isn't enough for me to use my ability. I can kill you just with the laws of space itself."

Kane chuckled. "Not strong enough?" He smiled, his sword radiating with red aura. "Your information is outdated, my friend. I'm no longer the number one genius of this universe," he said with a smirk. "But I am currently the strongest being in the entire universe."

Each of the Ten Seats was shocked upon hearing him. They knew that Kane was bold and arrogant, but what he had just said still left them stunned.

The title of "The Strongest Being in the Universe" belonged to whoever possessed the crown—a legendary artifact that manifested once every thousand years in the Montreux Universe. Each time the crown appeared, it brought with it the promise of ultimate power, and the being who claimed it would earn the revered title, commanding respect and awe throughout the cosmos.

However, with the crown's manifestation came more than just the lure of power—it heralded war, bloodshed, and chaos across the universe. Every race, every powerful faction, and every ancient being sought the crown, sparking fierce conflicts that tore through worlds and civilizations. Battles of unimaginable scale raged, alliances crumbled, and once-peaceful realms became battlegrounds as the universe descended into anarchy.

Despite the crown's fearsome legacy, no one within the Montreux Universe had ever successfully claimed it—or so it was believed. Stories of past bearers, those who had once wielded the crown's terrifying power, were recorded and passed down through generations. These tales, safeguarded within the ancestral grounds of each race, served both as inspiration and warning—a reminder of the crown's elusive power and the untold trials awaiting anyone who dared seek it.

"I know why you're so eager for the war to start early," Kane sneered. "You three races are after the Crown, but you fear the geniuses of the human race. You fear that the Crown will come to me, that it will come to Orion Darkwood in the coming years, that it will go to Jack. Right? All this war is just a facade to fuel the conflict."

Morkel frowned as he listened to Kane. Though he had vaguely considered this possibility, he hadn't given it as much weight as Kane had. The Crown was known to manifest every millennium, and by his calculations, there were still five to ten years before its next appearance. This was why he had dismissed the Crown as a possible cause for the war.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

But now, hearing Kane's insight, doubt began to creep into his mind. Could it really be that the looming manifestation of the Crown had driven the other races to such desperation? Desperation so intense that they would even ally with some humans to incite a war?

'I hope whatever Asmodeus is training for, he finishes soon. Otherwise, this war might scale to a much larger level,' he thought solemnly.

A faint, knowing smile curled on Azryth's lips as he finally spoke, "You're both half-right," he began, instantly capturing everyone's attention. "The manifestation of the Crown is near, but there is something neither of you fully understand. This time, the Crown brings not only the usual power struggles but something far graver… a truth hidden across epochs, buried within our history, known only to a few who dare look beyond mere legends."

Morkel and Kane exchanged wary glances. Azryth continued, his voice imbued with an eerie calm. "The Crown's appearance every thousand years is no coincidence, nor is it merely an object of power. It is a force bound by cosmic laws—something that does not simply bestow might upon the bearer, but also tests the very balance of the universe itself. Each manifestation has a purpose… a cycle of reckoning that reshapes the fabric of existence."

He paused, letting his words sink in. "The races you see scrambling for dominance—alliances of strange bedfellows—they act out of fear. For you see, this time, the Crown will not be as it was before. Legends speak of a fractured reality, of the Crown bringing a 'Great Dissolution,' a cataclysm that only the strongest may survive. And those who cannot control it, or worse, those unworthy yet ambitious enough to try… will be consumed by it."

Morkel frowned, looking at Azryth.

"I know everything you're talking about, Azryth," he said. "We have records of our universe stretching back a hundred thousand years, documenting wars, victories, the rise and fall of empires." He paused. "But for all that history, there are gaps—pieces missing. No records of what truly lies behind the Crown's power, or the forces that have shaped our fate."

Azryth's lips curled into a twisted smile, but he said nothing, merely watching Morkel with a look of dark satisfaction, as if pleased to see him unsettled.

"Generations of scholars, wise men, and kings have searched for these answers," Morkel continued. "We know that every thousand years, the Crown appears, bringing with it war, blood, and chaos. But why? Why does this cycle persist, always with the same outcome, always leaving scars and shadows in its wake?"

Kane smiled seeing them arguing.

"Think about it," Morkel continued, looking to the others. "Our ancestors recorded everything in exhaustive detail: every battle, every king, every alliance. Yet, when it comes to the Crown… there are only fragments. Just vague mentions of a struggle, of powers that even the most powerful beings failed to comprehend. What did they hide from us? What did they fear so much that they dared not leave the truth behind?"

Azryth let out a low, mocking chuckle. "So you humans are starting to suspect, after all. Perhaps your ignorance has dulled enough to sense the truth—that your universe, for all its bravado, is but a pawn in forces beyond your comprehension."

Morkel's expression darkened, his jaw clenched, but he pressed on, ignoring Azryth's taunt. "If we're missing something, then the truth isn't just a luxury—it's our only hope. Every record hints at some incomprehensible force tied to the Crown, one that has no allegiance, no sympathy. Yet all our forefathers left us was a history written in blood and ash."

Azryth's mocking smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "If you think that understanding those fragments will protect you, you're more foolish than I thought. The Crown demands submission, Morkel. It doesn't care about your lineage, your history, or your so-called resilience. To wield it is to surrender everything to its will."

"And that's why we started this war," he added. "Before the Crown manifests, we, the Seven Demon Kings, the Five Archangels, and the Six Eternals, will eradicate your race. We know that humans possess the so-called bloodline of the Primal Humans—no matter how faint it may be. This bloodline grants you geniuses in every era, an advantage that no other race has."

His voice grew darker, filled with a bitter resentment. "We, the demon and celestial races, are born strong enough to destroy your kind, yet we were not blessed with the potential you humans possess. Your bloodline gives birth to warriors and cultivators with power and brilliance beyond our reach. While we are powerful, we lack the ability to produce beings with the same boundless potential as yours."

A fierce glint appeared in his eyes as he leaned forward, his words coming like a whisper of doom. "But this time, the Crown is different. If one of the three races—us, the demons, angels, or celestials—claims it, our fate may change. The Crown holds the key to breaking through the limitations we face. It could bestow upon us power beyond anything you can imagine, and finally, we will be the ones who shape the future."