Chapter 4
Fara spotted Rys heading down to the entrance to the Labyrinth and chased after him. He didn’t tell her what his plans were, but he let her follow him. The space down there gave him plenty of room to do his work.
Drawing up a summoning circle took only a few minutes. Rys didn’t need any magical catalysts. He used raw magic to draw glowing red lines on the ground.
“This looks ominous,” Fara said, her tails curling around her. She remained close to the stairs.
“It’s a summoning ritual,” he said.
“Like I said. Ominous.”
“They’ll be under my control. And I’m sticking to simple demons. Only a few noble demons and their commander,” he explained as he straightened up and admired his handiwork.
Even after 1500 years of stasis, he still had it.
Fara giggled nervously. “A few noble demons, you say? I’m sorry, but you keep doing it.”
He looked at her, this time in genuine confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“Wow. I’ve done demon hunting before. Noble demons are considered the most dangerous of all. One of them can take out an entire company of knights or mages. They’re effectively impervious to non-magical attacks. Their blows go through magical plate like it’s made out of paper. Each of them towers over any man, even one of your height. The worst of them have specially crafted runic weapons,” Fara said, ticking off her fingers as if she were going through a checklist.
“You’re saying that like you can’t fight a noble demon,” Rys said. He placed his hands on his hips.
“I can, but I’m a mystic fox. Spiritualism is the counter to sorcery, and infernals run on it. We’re almost tailormade to slay them.” She frowned. “But we’re also far more powerful than humans. Only the most capable of knights and mages consider themselves the equal of mystic foxes.”
Rys filed away that knowledge, although he wondered if he needed to. The amount he didn’t know about this time period was practically insurmountable. He needed to consult his knowledge Gift, even if it was dangerous.
If noble demons were considered that powerful, it was a good thing he had chosen to keep his initial summon simple. He imagined Fara’s reaction if he summoned a bunch of devils capable of hurling hellfire.
The primary reason he had chosen this particular summoning was simple: risk. Without consulting his knowledge Gift, he didn’t know the state of Hell. Most of his former allies were dead, which meant he needed to summon unfamiliar allies.
But he had two allies whose status he could check on and whose loyalty he could guarantee. The means by which he did this was true name summoning.
An infernal’s true name was their very being. For a demon, it guaranteed their loyalty. For a devil, their true name was so important that many would kill themselves rather than give it out.
Rys knew the true name of two infernals. One was too much trouble right now, as she hated his guts and would actively try to screw him over. A true name guaranteed loyalty, but it still allowed wiggle room with orders. Rys didn’t want to spend half his life sitting on a pouty infernal who tried to disobey him at every turn.
So he had one option. Fortunately, it was a good option. And a quick check of the true name using a spell confirmed that it remained active.
With a flash of red light and shadow, Rys activated the summoning circle. Fara cursed and jumped backward, her tails whirring behind her. A flash of astral energy centered on her, but it vanished just as quickly and she didn’t cast any spells.
When the shadows cleared, roughly thirty demons stood in the summoning circle. Less than he’d hoped for, but still plenty.
Of those thirty, four of them were noble demons. Their massive physiques stood out from the animal-like visages of the mixture of greater and lesser demons around them. Each of the noble demons stood nearly ten feet tall and had solid white skin that looked like bone at a glance.
But none of them mattered. Not really.
The demon who mattered stood in the center of the crowd of unruly, chattering beasts. He remained dead silent as he towered over all of them. While the other demons gibbered excitedly and pointed at Fara, he locked eyes with Rys.
This demon was part of a species known as Kashlovians, and he was a particularly big one. He stood over thirteen feet tall, putting him at twice Rys’s height. His skin was a charcoal black and hidden underneath a thick layer of white bone armor and ash-colored fur. A stone mask in the shape of a dragon’s skull covered his head and four glowing red eyes leered out from underneath it.
In short, Kashlovians were the stuff of nightmares. They were demonic hunters, stronger and faster than other demons and built to slay almost anything in close combat.
The demons began to move forward, leering at Fara. The fox scowled and her tails moved again. That must be how she casts her spiritual techniques, Rys realized.
The Kashlovian demon slammed a gargantuan axe into the ground, hilt-first. The sound reverberated in the chamber and stopped the demons dead. Then he waved in the air with one arm, as if dismissing the other demons to a corner.
They grumbled and wandered off, chatting to each other as they went.
“Rys…” the Kashlovian breathed out, his voice so deep and booming that it shook Rys’s bones. “You’re alive. After all these centuries.”
“It’s been a while, Grigor,” Rys said.
Grigor let out a bark of laughter. After a few moments he threw his head back and it turned into an uproarious peal.
“Yes, it has been. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” Grigor said.
The demon strode forward until he stood in front of Rys.
“As I served you in the past, General, so I shall serve you again. This time, it will be until death separates us,” Grigor said.
He held out one muscly arm, easily as thick as Rys’s body. Realizing Grigor’s intent, Rys grasped Grigor’s open palm with his own.
The two of them gripped each other’s fists with all of their might. Rys’s strength Gift kicked in, but it flailed in short order. Grigor’s hand was like a vice.
No, a vice would probably be more pleasant.
“Well, you certainly kept up your training,” Rys said, shaking feeling back into his hand.
“No, I apologize,” Grigor said, shaking his head and looking back at the demons he brought with him. “If I had known you would return, I would have maintained a position suitable for a demon prince such as myself. You gave me that rank and power for a reason and I let it rot. I could only bring these few demons with me when you called.”
“Demon prince!” Fara squealed, interrupting the conversation.
Rys and Grigor looked over at the fox. Every hair on her body stood on end, including her tails. She stared at Grigor in some strange mix of terror and fascination.
“That’s him, yeah,” Rys said, jabbing a thumb at Grigor. “Demon Prince Grigor. Appointed by the Demon Lord Argran some… fuck, you were like fifty when I bullied him to do it. So, what, nearly 1800 years now?”
“That sounds correct,” Grigor said. “I assume this is one of your new allies, then?”
Fara opened her mouth to say something, presumably some acerbic or witty remark about not being an ally.
Rys beat her to the punch, “Close enough.” He gave her a warning look.
Grigor was many things. One of those was a person who sometimes took things too literally if he didn’t feel like reading between the lines. A mystic fox with mixed feelings about working with Rys might not bring up a strong desire to care.
The glowing red embers within Grigor’s mask bore down on Fara for several long seconds. She straightened her back, her tails flaring up behind her in a signal that she wasn’t backing down.
Then Grigor chuckled and slammed his axe into the ground. Fara jumped at the noise and the other demons looked over in curiosity.
“Any ally of Rys is welcome,” Grigor said. “Especially when he is weakened like this.”
Rys nearly slapped himself in the face. He wanted to slap Grigor, but knew that would only hurt his hand. The huge demon prince didn’t know better and was honest almost to a fault.
Actually, it was a fault given he was an infernal.
Fara said nothing, but her ears twitched as she glanced at Rys.
“I don’t plan to stay like this for long,” Rys grumbled, then changed the topic. “There’s plenty of room for the demons in the sub-levels. I don’t know where they’ve been staying in Hell, but it might be a step up.”
“We wandered the independent wastelands of Hell. A solid roof above our heads is very welcome. And once you…” Grigor paused and his maw twisted. It was the only part of his face visible beneath the mask. “Attract enough succubi, shall we say, they’ll never want to return.”
“It’ll be a while before I summon many succubi. Don’t build expectations.” Rys rubbed his chin.
Succubi came in many variations, but they were all forms of noble devils. Even the weakest of them required substantial power from Rys. And true succubi required a level of power and skill that Rys didn’t have available right now, due to the seals.
Even if he did have the skill, he’d be wary. Succubi excelled at both physical combat and mental influence. While Rys knew how to dominate them, he wasn’t foolish enough to let them into his new home until he had the power to keep them under his thumb. They were a flighty lot.
“I don’t intend to,” Grigor said, his disdain for the sexual proclivities of the succubi oozing from his voice. He sighed. “I shall move them to their quarters and set boundaries. It would be a shame if I had to banish any to Hell so soon. We shall speak soon, Rys.”
Grigor strode off to the other demons and changed languages. He snarled at the demons in a guttural demonic language which Rys spoke natively, allowing his translation gift to remain inert.
Once the demons left the chamber, Rys and Fara were alone. No signs of the summoning circle remained, as it had burned away after serving its purpose.
Fara edged closer to Rys, her tails lowering.
“Weakened?” she asked, sounding doubtful. “You summoned a demon prince while weakened?”
“Do you believe my story now?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to think.” She shook her head, her tails flat against it. “I felt his power. Even brushing against it was like hugging a mountain. Even with every technique I know for slaying monsters, and my specialized anti-sorcery abilities, I don’t know if I’d stand a chance against him.”
“Grigor’s more of a general than a warrior. Kind of unusual for his race,” Rys said. “But he is still a demon prince.”
“And you summoned him. That doesn’t scream ‘weak’ to me.”
“He was a special case. I’m the best infernal summoner there’s ever been. I invented half of the summoning techniques used by the Empire post-Cataclysm. But I can’t use most of them right now.” Rys clenched a fist and glared at it. “So, yes, Grigor is right to say I’m weakened. If you call Grigor a mountain, I’d be the entire mountain range.”
“Oh.”
Fara looked at him uncertainly, as if weighing up something in her mind.
Rys had a pretty good idea what that “something” was. Anyone with an ounce of intelligence would consider killing a potential enemy while they were weak enough.
“You’re helping Vallis. For now, that’s enough for me,” Fara said, her tails hanging low behind her.
For now, she said.
Amusing, Rys thought with a smirk, as he watched her walk up the stairs. His gaze fixed on the shapely ass he saw beneath her black combat robe.
The cute little fox had changed her tune rather quickly. Rys imagined the sort of fun things he might be able to do with her, and the sounds she might make.
But those fantasies could wait. He had time to bring her around, and he knew he had the ability to convince her that he was worth serving. Something complicated lurked behind those piercing blue eyes of hers. There was more to her story.
And besides, Rys preferred his women to enjoy his company. Fara’s sniping was fun, but if he wanted women to insult him, then he could summon devils to do that any time he felt like it. He knew entire strains of succubi that got off on it.
Rys retired to his own bedroom, which consisted of little more than a large wooden bed with a mattress. He planned to spend minimal time here, so elaborate furnishings were unnecessary until he had company.
Which was code for women.
Right now, he needed to take care of something he had put off all day.
It was time for Rys to delve into his one remaining knowledge Gift. He needed to learn more about this world, but without alerting the owner of the Gift that he was alive.
Normally, this was a simple task. Rys mentally tapped into his knowledge Gift as he had thousands of times before.
He should have felt the mental equivalent to an index. Knowledge Gifts weren’t that different to reading a reference book. The user looked through an index, found the “page number” of what they were looking for, then looked up the actual information. This took place effectively instantly, as it was a mental task.
Rys had avoided this so far out of caution, not because he needed time. But now he needed information, and his Gift was the main way to get it.
But instead of receiving the information mentally, Rys felt the knowledge Gift pull at him. Instinctively, he tried to retreat from it. He failed, and the Gift captured him.