Chapter 18
“I feel this is becoming a habit,” Maria said as she greeted Rys in front of the manor. “Perhaps I should move in after this is over.”
She arrived in her carriage this time, but Barul was still absent. No nonsense about going off on a ride and running into Rys. She had simply left her fiance behind and come here.
The increase in her confidence was an improvement. If Maria had still been unwilling to push back against Barul, it might make Rys question his choices.
They stepped inside the manor. The guards joined them, but were led to a break room by one of the Ashen. Same guards as last time, Rys noted. They accepted cigarettes from the Ashen and made small talk as they walked away.
Rys led Maria to the war room this time. They spoke on the way.
“I knew you worked fast, but this is beyond all of my expectations,” she said. “I’m receiving word that most of Compagnon’s holdings east of Anceston have been freed. And there is panic to the west, although they never held much there in the first place.”
“They never had much reason to control Port Mayfield, so we’re lucky there,” Rys said. “But they still have a lot of territory remaining. This is only the beginning. We’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest, so to speak.”
Maria shrugged and beamed at him. “They are still the greatest victories since Compagnon arrived. And the rumors certainly emphasize their greatness. An enormous magical inferno consumed a manor fortified by former adventurers. Hulking beasts have torn apart Compagnon’s caravans. Shadows stalk those loyal to Compagnon and cut them down when they’re alone.”
Her eyes bore into Rys, but he ignored her. Those stories were true.
But it spoke volumes about Compagnon’s control that he needed to go this far. He had thought that the region was a tiny one, and he was right. But even a small region had dozens of towns, forts, and important villages. Every time he sent somebody to strike down one of Compagnon’s lackeys, they found another.
“I am curious where you found the strength to do so much damage to Compagnon so quickly,” she continued. “I had assumed you had your own elite company of soldiers, but the speed that you strike at suggests something far more powerful.”
She was fishing. Her eyes glittered as she waited for a response.
Well, Rys decided to give her one. He reached out to Tyrisa using mindspeak and asked her to take care of something.
Then he took Maria on a small detour. If she noticed, she didn’t let on.
When they finally reached the war room, Rys opened the door. “Ladies first.”
After giving him a look, she stepped inside. Then froze in the doorway.
“I knew it,” she whispered.
She what?
Rys checked that everything had gone to plan. Terry stood next to Grigor in the war room. While Grigor was in his human form, Terry was not. Vallis and Fara lounged on a sofa, ignoring the glare that Tyrisa gave them. The knowledge devil’s bat wings had returned, although they vanished in a burst of light after a glare from Rys.
“Heh. Letting her in on the secret, boss?” Terry asked. “Should I head back down?”
“No, you’re the head of security. Stay,” Rys said. He turned to Maria. “You don’t seem surprised.”
Maria regained her composure and stepped inside. Rys closed the door behind her and walked up to the table.
“What little Barul told me about the castle’s past was that the original master was a creator of monsters—namely the Labyrinth’s,” Maria said. “You built this mansion so quickly and Barul hated you so much that I knew you were special. You’re connected to the Creator of this mansion, aren’t you? Was he some sort of archdevil?”
Rys stared at her. She’d become suspicious of him for an entirely unrelated reason?
On the plus side, her gaze filled with awe as she looked up at him. That was nice.
“No,” he said. She blinked in surprise. “I don’t even think infernals have ever been here before the continents discovered the archipelago a century ago.”
“Then… who are you? What are you?” Maria asked, blinking rapidly in confusion.
“A fossil,” Fara said from the far side of the room.
“Thank you, Fara,” Rys said. “But she’s right. I’m from the Infernal Empire and was sealed away here. Summoning a demon prince like Grigor is trivial for me, and the same goes for using infernal sorcery.”
Maria’s eyes widen and she stares at Grigor. “Oh.”
“That’s right. Rys was one of the most powerful officials in the Infernal Empire,” Tyrisa said, puffing out her chest as if she was talking about her own accomplishments. “He even fought in the Cataclysm.”
Several minutes passed as they got Maria up to speed and calmed her down. The contract prevented her from telling others about this, so the secret was safe. But he hadn’t been sure she would react positively until she teased him about his victories against Compagnon.
With that dealt with, Rys drew everybody to the table.
“Our initial push has gone well,” Rys explained. “Most of Compagnon’s allies are either dead or fleeing. They’ve expended a lot of resources trying to hold on to their territory. The artifact trade is also in turmoil, as we’ve stopped every caravan going to Aretiers. But our next three steps are more complicated.”
Grigor folded his arms and nodded. “Indeed. We must capitalize on their weakness and strike at their heart when the time is right. But they still have considerable resources. Their next bastion is a large town called Harpiscon. Most of their mercenaries are massing there.”
“That’s a problem, but only one issue,” Rys said. “The other two steps are to establish a proper nation and to deal with the Kinadain elders.”
“Do we really want to get involved with the Kinadain?” Vallis asked. She tapped on the mountains. “They have a lot of warriors. Once we take back the artifact trade, they won’t be a threat. We can bully them about the shit they pulled, but I don’t know why we’d pick a fight with them. Er, with respect.” She blushed at the looks she received.
“No, you’re right to question me,” Rys said. Maria and Tyrisa looked at him in surprise. “The reason is that I have a plan to deal with the elders without pissing off the Kinadain themselves.”
He briefly explained his plan to duel Barul.
Fara scowled. “Forget respect, have you gone insane? Barul’s far more powerful than you know. The Slayers are genuine monsters themselves. He can’t take Grigor, but I’d need another tail before I even thought about fighting him.”
“Then I’ll become more powerful,” Rys said. He crossed his arms. “Luckily for me, my adviser has found something that will help me in the Labyrinth.”
Maria stared at him in confusion. She clicked her tongue when she noticed everybody else knew what he was talking about.
“So, we’re going deeper?” Grigor rumbled.
“Yes,” Rys said. “That’s our immediate plan for the Kinadain. Preparing to go as deep in the Labyrinth as we can.”
Grigor, Terry, and Fara nodded, although the latter’s expression remained thunderous.
“I have an idea for establishing a nation,” Vallis said, taking control of the discussion. She stroked her chin. “Now that Compagnon’s pulling out, a lot of their land goes back to the villagers. But for how long? Many of them were driven into the ground by Compagnon. They’re poor. Lots of nobles and merchants in Tarmouth, Anceston, or even Avolar will buy the land.”
“It’s their land,” Maria said. Fara nodded, her face troubled by Vallis’s words.
“I know. But given the choice between starving or selling their land, they’ll sell,” Vallis said. “Or maybe they get greedy in the future and sell to an enemy. We’re flush with cash. Why don’t we give them a good price, instead of the fire-sale prices they’ll get from others? That’ll make it easier to claim that we have a right to rule the region, too. We’ll already own a ton of land.”
Maria’s face became thoughtful. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do we really have that much money?”
“Not on hand, but we have a secure source of income and our great lord and master Talarys backing us,” Vallis said with a wink. “I’ve been approached by some big lenders from Tarmouth with some very good deals.”
“Vallis…” Fara warned.
“This is different,” Vallis said. “For one thing, I had Tyrisa go over all the paperwork. None of this is tied to me personally. I’m not loading myself up with debt. The other thing is that this isn’t a normal loan.”
“Tarmouth is backing us,” Rys said, a smirk rising to his face.
“Yeah. I don’t know why and nobody will tell me, but some major players are pissed at Compagnon,” Vallis said. “I’ll keep an ear to the ground and let you know what’s going on.”
“Do it then. I’m not refusing an ally,” Rys said. “Especially one with more money than Compagnon probably has.”
After a short discussion, the meeting ended. Vallis and Grigor led Maria out of the castle. Tyrisa slipped out, but not before telling Rys that she’d drop a copy of the meeting notes on his desk. Naturally, Terry returned to the sub-levels.
Once only Rys and Fara remained, the fox winced. She collapsed onto the sofa she had been lounging on when he entered.
“Do you think anybody noticed?” she asked.
“I doubt it. Is it still that bad?” He approached her and sat on the arm of the sofa.
Her hands pulled her robe open, allowing him to see the bindings she wrapped her chest in. Actual bandages covered a bloody bruise on her right side. She winced when she touched it.
When Fara attacked a caravan, the mage in command had injured her. Only the day after the battle had any of them realized how bad the injury was.
“It feels like everything beneath the skin was torn apart, and is still in pieces,” she said. “I thought I was a decent healer, but I can’t do a damn thing about this.”
“Your healing is regeneration-based. Most likely the spell that the mage hit you with counters regeneration,” Rys explained.
“I know. You said that before,” she said. “I just… I’ve never scarred before. Up in the mountains, none of the Pride Clan foxes carried scars. It’s a sign of incompetence to be scarred. It means you were injured so badly in battle that you can’t heal it.”
He didn’t know what the Pride Clan was, but he assumed they were another of the mystic fox clans in Pharos.
“Can’t say I’ve heard that take before,” Rys said. “For most, they become badges of honor. Surviving an injury bad enough that magic can’t heal means that you were strong enough to overcome whatever tried to kill you.”
Fara frowned. “Or I was weak enough to let it nearly kill me.”
“Then become strong enough that it can’t kill you in the future,” Rys said. He sighed and flicked one of her ears. She yelped and stared up at him, her tails curling around her in panic. “If your scars aren’t a badge of honor, then they are a reminder of what you’ve overcome. Lots of things beat the shit out of me in the past. Then I got stronger, and they were the ones who cowered in terror.”
“As if you ever cowered in terror in the first place,” Fara muttered.
“I spent a lot of my life avoiding punishment from very powerful beings,” Rys said. “Remember: my first infernal master was one of Malusian’s generals. If she wanted to, she could have burned my mind out and turned me into a husk in an instant. Or splattered me all over the walls. Or told somebody else to murder me horribly.”
Fara grimaced.
Eventually, she asked, “How? How do I become more powerful?”
“More tails. More experience. I can probably come up with other ways over time. But that means you need to stay with me and not go back to your clan. That’s your decision, not mine,” he answered.
She smiled. “Ha. And here I make fun of you for lusting for power. It’s all I’m thinking about right now. The things I’d do to get my fifth tail right now and never have to worry about being hurt like this again…”
Rys let her be. While he might be able to heal the wound with his infernal sorcery, the pain might be even worse than keeping the scar. Not to mention that he had no way to know how his sorcery might interact with her strange physiology.
But, speaking of healing, he had a simpler solution to this problem. Because it had become a problem. Many infernals were being injured during the attacks. Only a few demons had been banished, plus a single Ashen, but the war had only begun.
Why take avoidable losses when there was an alternative?
Rys descended to the sub-levels and drew up a summoning circle. He was using the last of his summoning power from the castle’s power slate. This needed to count.
Shadow and light signaled the success of the ritual. Eight beautiful women stood within the circle. Each had long, dark pink hair, pale skin, and wore an identical pink leotard and patterned pantyhose that matched their hair. At a glance, the women looked almost like sisters, but their faces and physiques differed in subtle ways. But every one of them were short, lithe, and modestly endowed.
These women were Lilim, a strain of succubi that specialized in healing.
Healing with sex, specifically. They were succubi, after all.
Lewd grins rose on the faces of the Lilim. They tried to cross the circle and quickly found it impassable. Their chattering and cooing noises as they tried to convince Rys to strip and join them for an orgy threatened to deafen him.
“Be quiet for five seconds,” Rys snapped, rubbing his temples. “I’m not letting you blow my brains out. At least not literally.”
The Lilim shut up, eyes wide.
“Right. Which one of you is the chief nurse? Or whatever you call yourselves these days? I never kept up with whatever lewd title you gave yourselves each week,” Rys said.
Giggles erupted amongst the Lilim. One of them stepped forward, her spaded tail swishing behind her. She placed a hand on one hip and cocked her head to one side.
“I’m Mary. I’m not actually the Chief Demonrider,” she said.
How amazingly blunt of a title.
“But you’re close enough?” Rys asked.
“I’m the deputy.” She shrugged. “Amelia’s the chief, but she’s not here. I think she was busy with an important prince who insisted he see the best.”
Rys blinked.
“Amelia?” he asked. “As in, that Amelia?” His tone said something special about Amelia that anybody who knew her recognized.
The eyes of every Lilim widened.
Mary let out a whistle. “Never met a human who knew Amelia. She’s old, but I didn’t know she’d ever been to Harrium.”
Rys felt that he’d dodged an arrow. No, not an arrow. A storm of arrows. He’d nearly summoned Amelia. That could only have ended badly, for many reasons.
“I’m Talarys,” he said. “I knew Amelia a while ago.”
A hush fell over the giggling Lilim. Their wide eyes spoke volumes.
Mary licked her lips. “Ah. That explains why you feel so odd. It’s an honor, sir.” A pause. “What you said earlier—you didn’t mean you weren’t going to let us blow you at all, right? Because we’d really like to do that.”
Seven other heads nodded enthusiastically.
When Rys dragged them out of the room an hour later, it was with a much emptier feeling in the bottom half of his body. The Lilim giggled and clung to him, attracting stares from the demons. Although many of them grinned knowingly.
The sexual healing service had arrived. The downside was that the Lilim were thirsty, thirsty girls.
Rys didn’t intend to pay too much attention to the Lilim. Like most succubi, they were man-eaters. In Hell, they got their fill by fucking infernals for “health check-ups” and other nonsense reasons. They were some of the best healing infernals there were.
So long as the patient didn’t mind losing their dignity and sometimes their chastity. For many soldiers in the Infernal Empire, getting their cock sucked to survive a lethal wound wasn’t a story they told their grandkids.
Or at least, Rys hoped it wasn’t.
Regardless, he planned to keep them away from Fara. While her injury gave him the idea in the first place, he didn’t want the Lilim near her given her current state of mind.
“I’ll organize things with them,” Grigor said when Rys introduced Mary to him. “But I’d prefer not to rely on them. We’ll need to keep them safe in the Labyrinth, given they’re non-combatants.”
“Realistically, we’ll need a few more days to prepare,” Rys said, thinking of Fara’s wound. “But assume we’ll head into the Labyrinth any day now.”
Grigor nodded.
Rys tried not to dwell on the Labyrinth. Finally, the time to regain some of his lost power had arrived.