Demonic Magician

The oppressive heat of the hells turned minutes into hours. Soon enough, hours became days. We fought and killed, always just slightly more powerful than whatever demonic presence Roger dragged us along to. Eventually, we acclimatized. To... some degree.

With the System playing favorites, Wolf also received a skill that gave us heat resistance. Even in this odd place, we found the helping hand of the world itself guiding our purpose.

The Imps hadn’t been too hard to track down. The Shades were a little more difficult, but there were only a handful of those. Having a small army of demons made the process of carving our way through hell relatively painless. I’d hardly had a chance to even crack my head open on any of the jutting rocks that littered the place.

Truly a hellish existence.

Ren had calmed, and we had become used to this battleground. Every day, her scowl lessened until we now had a neutral expression as the default. We’d even found the time and privacy for some acts of passion, an accolade few could claim given our surroundings. No baths or cold water had crossed our path, but we became used to the sweat and stink of each other. Blind to it.

At a basic guess, I determined that every three to five days spent in hell was equal to one on the surface. In keeping touch with Tanya, we knew that three whole days had now passed for them. So for us - despite there being no sun to truly gauge - we must be getting close to two weeks. Of sweating, of murdering demons, and of growing as fighters.

No news from the Eternal Wardens or Candlekeep so far. Neither was a good sign. We hadn’t come across an exit… so there was little we could do. The rest of our Party had held out in place for a day, before I sent them to go meet with Fiona and her lot. They’d be safer as a seven than trying to get by as a duo.

For us down here? We had... changed.

Could see it in our eyes. The way we held ourselves in places of safety. The ruthless efficiency that we made with our kills. Even Roger had now taken a backseat to our battles, not wanting to get in our way. Our outfits had been stripped down to something more commando-esque. Potion bottles lined our belts, scrolls and other useful consumables across makeshift bandoliers.

Survived almost two-dozen ambushes. Almost lost my arm. Ren almost lost her eyes. Wolf sunk through part of the ground and almost vanished from existence entirely. But every cut or bruise just honed us further.

We had looted enough gold to buy a palace. Our equipment had been replaced entirely with better things - my Int alone increasing by almost 20 points, not including the straight up mana and magic damage percentage additions. But it wasn’t just the System-defined gear that had seen an upgrade.

Ren now had jagged blades at the back of her boots, and a longer one at the front of her rifle, like a bayonet. We both had scaled armor shoulder and knee plates. Wolf was a veritable tank of tough bone armor with several long tusks extending from his shoulders. We were molded to our surroundings and took every advantage we could muster.

And the experience? Not quite the waterfall we had hoped, but I had been right - we could surpass the Level 15 restriction from the second area. We were now a couple of battles away from Level 16.

Fourteen had granted me another defensive skill. A party-buff called Shared Hand. It worked in a similar way to Card Fan, but had three uses per Party member, and less damage absorption per card. Much longer cooldown too - but had helped us in our engagements so far.

Fifteen had been the upgrade for my Class ability, Demonic Magician. Now my opponents would gain additional Dazzle stacks depending on how high my Power bar was. Not too engrossing at low levels, but with all the other passives I had under my belt, things could cascade at a terrible rate even when I wasn’t trying to put on quite the performance.

Only downside of being in hell that I personally disliked was the lack of Power Tokens. With the hundreds of monsters we slaughtered every day, we would have a fortress full of the upgrade stones if they could actually drop. Still, couldn’t ask for everything.

Ren gave me a long kiss, savoring my lips as she buttoned her shirt up. My hands held her face as she tried to move away. The ash and sweat had caused streaks like war-paint over us both, but her eyes were as piercing as ever. Pools of bright blue that were as calming as their much desired watery equivalents.

“Get suited up, trickster. I can feel the doom calling to us.”

The elf being holy-adjacent and me being demonic-adjacent had allowed us both to grasp at signals down here in hell. After the eighth ambush, we started to get a feel for when and how we would be attacked. Enough to sleep without one eye open - we’d just awake right before, as if an alarm had been set.

“Hitting Sixteen will be great. I feel hell will soon run out of demons, and Twenty is a pipe dream.”

“The only pipe dreams I have,” she said, pointing the bandolier she had in her hand at me, “all involve clean running water.”

“What we need is like a… bathhouse? With a sauna, a big pool of clear water, a soft breeze… and some privacy.”

Ren groaned. “I would literally die. Fuck this stupid world and that Lady bitch. The first thing I’m doing as soon as the bullshit is all over is whatever you just said with your filthy mouth.”

“Crass, but sure - it’s a date, then.”

“I’ve seen what you do with that thing, trickster. You deserve to be in hell.” She grinned as she turned her head away to adjust her gear.

“As long as you’re with me.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Naturally. I have my own mouth-crimes to atone for.”

I rolled my eyes and my shirt sleeves up. Had ditched the jacket and top hat for most of the fighting lately. Only kept me warmer than necessary - I hated to admit that we had hardly been putting much flair into our fighting. Didn’t seem necessary, especially after my Class upgrade. Just by the nature of my normal combat ability and the occasional cannon, we’d rack up enough stacks of Dazzle for a Finale stun when needed. Past that… we just killed the demons.

And I loved it.

Stopped having the rage-outs from being too close to the demons, as eventually I just got used to them. Despite their higher intelligence than the usual System-created we were used to, we become accustomed to their mannerisms and ways of fighting.

Stood from the uncomfortable bed and stretched out. Ren gave me a pat on the back as she passed, and I followed her out through the door and down the stairs. Demon homes were few and far between, and the majority unfit for our purposes - but the occasional settlement would have structures with four walls, a roof, and a bed. If we were lucky, some didn’t smell like demonic bodily fluids and we could turn any corpses away from us to stare at the walls rather than our sleeping habits.

I would be the first to admit we had become slightly unhinged.

Two worms wriggling in the filth together, bloodied and sweaty - but in love and happy for it. Closer emotionally and as fighters. Our drop into hell had been something of a trial by fire, but we had emerged as better people - or rather, were working our way to emerging. Still no exit door in sight, but it would be nice to go back to the normal world.

If it could even accept us as we were now.

Down the stairs and into the lower room. Wolf was already in his battle gear, the dark wooden furniture that had been in the space the evening before now thrashed into parts in one corner where he had nested up to sleep. All except for one chair near the glass-less windows, where Roger sat with his large feet up on the windowsill.

“Next village has tall fuckin’ demons with long legs, Boss. Was just telling Wolf that he could probably snap through them like twigs.”

I nodded before giving the bear a pat on the flank. He had been holding up alright. Some days slightly more tired than others, but he hadn’t faltered. One of his new abilities was giving him an energy boost on the regular, so we only watched for other signs of exhaustion.

We double-checked we hadn’t left anything behind before I pushed through the door and stepped out into the street. A horde of Hellhounds on my left, and a squadron of different Imps on my right. The Shades were off in a loose circle at a distance as an early warning system for if we were going to have trouble.

And we were. We could all feel it.

Not just an ordinary ambush… something worse, I was sure. Ten or so days maiming our way through the hells had been a nice holiday, but we were bound to get the attention of someone who cared, eventually. Roger had tried to fill me in on the various titles and structure of those in charge here, but it had slipped right off my brain.

With few words spoken, we traveled until we reached the next killing field. Just as he said, the demons were on tall legs - almost like stilts. They reminded me of giraffes, if only instead of the neck, it was all the other limbs that were way too long.

We had been lucky that many of the demons dropped rations in some way or another. The agreement had been not to eat demonic meat, but we had been saved from that opportunity by a type of random crate that provided food - and drinks. Otherwise, we would have dehydrated by now.

Critical card bloomed into my hand.

We were fast friends with the destiny the System forced upon us, but as each new ‘day’ passed, all I cared for was returning and putting an end to the Crimson Shadow.

Magic card flew out and struck a leg, bursting and severing the limb. Demon cried out and dropped, as Ren put a radiant bullet in the head of the next. Wolf burst forward with incredible speed surrounded by hounds as a throng of Imps started to power up their ranged attacks.

I’d miss this, when we eventually got to return - I couldn’t deny that.

Already onto the third pack as my next card illuminated my face. I held it there as a shadow washed over the battlefield toward us, and my eyes went to the ruddy sky.

A dark figure, wide wings slowing his descent, dropped down and slammed into the dry ground, cracking the rock and causing a wave of disturbed dust to filter out around his landing spot.

I narrowed my eyes as the crown of bright silver upon his head caught the light, flickering the promise of death just as his grin widened.

“Looks like I’ll be dining well tonight,” he growled, a sword of flaming red appearing in his clawed hand.