Demonic Magician

Click.

A satisfying sound. Just as Rolo attempted to hold me away while I loomed menacingly toward him, I had snapped the Nullifying cuff on the outstretched arm. The surprise in his eye was only second to our own, as I pulled back his hood.

Ruddy skin, two small horns, sharp teeth on an otherwise featureless face beneath the bright eye. The hand-print of red was barely visible.

“You’re a demon.” I said. More of a statement than a question. Context clues aside, part of me knew already. A reason why I had been able to sense him despite his abilities.

“And part of the Crimson Shadows,” Ren added from beside me.

I suppose that part was important too. Might explain why the scout wasn’t able to get a lot of useful information from the side he actually controlled. Maybe even assisted in the campground apathy by making going forward seem impossible.

“You can talk, right?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Fuck you, unbelievers.” He hissed back, disdain starting to build behind facial expressions.

I raised my head up to look at the elf. “It is more of a cult here, huh?”

Her brow was furrowed. “Your eyes are… do you need me to take over?”

Hmm. I didn’t feel particularly emotional or full of power, so it was odd that my eyes were reacting. Just looking at the demon, though… He needed to die, and I was willing to do it right now. No hesitation or need for further questions. “Yeah, please do.”

I stood slowly, and walked backward, unable to keep my eyes off him. Warmth behind me as I bumped into Wolf, so I leaned back into his side and crossed my arms.

“Weird demon, boss.” Roger was resting against the large mace as he watched proceedings. “All should obey you and follow your commands ‘n’ shit.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d get them to do that, but he had a point. This insolent demon should learn his place. A card flickered into my hand and then faded away. He needed sending back to Hell, but it was Ren’s turn and I wasn't rude enough to interrupt her.

Wolf nudged me. “Focus yourself.”

My eyes blinked, and I looked away from the abomination to regard the bear and his earnest amber orbs. He was right, this wasn’t the normal me thinking. Or even the abnormal me. I opened up my Health Report, and it was all clear. Just an average psychotic break, perhaps.

“Thanks, bud.” I gave him a pat on the side, partially to wipe some of the blood from my hands. The ploy was short lived after I realized I was just getting Wildfolk blood on me from his fur. How the tables turned.

Ren deflated and held a knife towards the neck of the scout. The vines had slowly sunk away now, so he was only held in place by the insinuation of violence.

“I don’t have much energy for this today,” she began. “So play nice and I won’t let Max…” she leaned in closer and whispered to him. His eye widened and looked over toward me.

“Sick fuck,” he murmured.

Unsure as to what I was being signed up for, for some reason I decided grinning and licking my lips was the appropriate nail to hammer into the coffin Ren was promising. He paled and looked as though he might throw up.

Roger hopped over a little closer to me, more because of his awkwardness in moving the puppet-person than because he was a rabbit-analogue. “Oh shit, oh shit, boss. If you kill him, can I be him? Be the demon?”

I shrugged. “Sure thing…” I didn’t get to finish my sentence as he blew away in the breeze straight after hearing the affirmative. The mace topped over to the floor, the thick handle almost landing on my toes. Maybe I wouldn't do it, actually. I wasn't currently sure if I could view the demon as a friend even with Roger in there.

“So…” Ren continued. “We’re going to do this easy way, okay? Just a couple of questions and then we won’t kill you.”

Not even a lie, I could tell from her voice. We’d hand him over to the camp and he’d be their problem. If they wanted to outsource the executioner, though… I knew someone with freshly licked lips. No, that didn’t sound right. I brought up my Inventory, sorting through my items to try to keep my brain on track. Oh, maybe I could open those Chance Boxes—I had three of them now.

I played a drumroll in my head, ready for disappointment.

[Ring of Critical] [+2% Melee Critical Chance]

[Belt of the Trickster] [+3 Int, +2 Dex]

[Necklace of the Quick] [+2 Agi, +5% Movement Speed]

Not the worst haul in the world. I paused in deliberating who could use the items, equipping the belt myself, before something felt strange. My jaw clenched in anticipation.

With the flash of yellow light, a wave of warmth washed over us. My eyes adjusted to see what now lay before us. The green grass and soft dirt had now been replaced by dry sand, almost endless, until it reached the horizon in all directions. The other thing to note was the large sun in the dull sky, pelting everything with continuous waves of heat.

As Ren got her bearings, briefly as confused as Wolf and I, Rolo sank down into the sand where he lay as if it was just water.

I stepped up closer to her, card in hand, as she drew an arrow.

“The fuck is this?” she said through clenched teeth, eyes darting around the empty surroundings.

“Demons of a certain power are able to cast a Domain, like a pocket dimension. Usually gives them certain powers or advantages. I would guess that this is his Class ability, since he can’t use active skills with the cuff on.”

She turned to me, confusion across her face. “How do you… shit, Max? Your eyes are practically on fire.”

Strange, because I felt pretty calm. As to where the knowledge came from… it was the Other Max, of course. He had dealt with other demons—killed them, in fact—as a matter of priority, usually. Drawing on the memories of that side of me, I hadn’t been inside more than a couple Domains in my time.

“I don’t like sand,” Wolf grumbled from behind us. “Get us out of here, Max.”

“I’ll… try.”

The card in my hand empowered brighter, but in truth, I didn’t know where to begin. The idea of a Domain was to give the demon a home-turf advantage. If anything, it just made me wander to other questions. Could I, or Roger, receive a Domain in time? I already knew what mine would look like, and I licked my dry lips. Not that I was a demon, I was quick to remind myself.

Not in the technical sense.

“Vibrations,” Wolf said, lowering his head.

“Direct me.”

He sniffed at the air and then sharply turned his glare towards the left.

My card went out, twirling through the air and then carving through the sand. A trail burned through in a line before the card ran out of energy.

“He moved away, but you were close.” Wolf turned slowly as he tried to track the vibrations circling behind us now.

The demon appeared to be swimming through the sand as it was water, too. A simple trick that probably worked out fine against System-created or confused Players. I knew too much though, and I was molded into the killer of demons. If anything, he was delaying the inevitable.

“Ren, apex,” I commanded, throwing a card straight up above me before a second was already glowing in my hand. Her bow drew back, not needing to question my request or thought process.

Wolf began to growl at the sand as he focused. The arrow was let loose. I removed my hat into my left hand, feeling the approaching attack just as well as the bear could.

A mound appeared in the sand a few dozen feet away from us, and as we readied to attack, it zipped forward and burst out from the ground. Awash with falling sand was a giant snake, a ruddy color and with a singular white eye. The ridges of their hooded head caught the odd sunlight, illuminating the tough-looking scales that covered their body. Without hesitation, they burst forward toward the bear, large fangs dripping with venom in a wide open maw.

Then a large fireball struck the sand it was trying to move through, the intense heat turning it to glass. My card was out and sliced straight down the middle, turning it into two sharp edges that Rolo was pushing his body between. Imp+ landed from above into my hat as I sent him away.

The sharp glass panels opened up darker crimson lines down his body as he squirmed and slowed his assault. Briefly, I wondered if my ability to push Deception also worked on physics, as that whole charade worked conveniently well. I didn't know the correct heat fire needed to be to melt sand into glass, but it seemed that neither did Rolo's Domain. The show continued despite our shared ignorance, not wanting to let a good plan go to waste.

Wolf leaped forward and clobbered the giant snake to the ground. Ren had her Smite shot ready for when he gave her an opening.

I looked around. There really was nothing except heat and dried rock. Reminded me of Hell, and I wasn’t sure if that was some comforting nostalgia or age-old nausea rolling around inside me. Deal enough damage to the demon and the Domain would shatter away. I had no doubts Wolf was about to achieve that, even without Ren’s help. It had been a last-ditch attempt to gain the upper hand, but without his abilities still, he was far outmatched.

There was a cracking tear noise from behind me, and then everything washed away in a cool breeze, as if I had been staring at a painting that suddenly shredded before becoming ash. The bright greens made me wince as I turned to see the scout in the bear's mouth.

“Dead?” I asked.

Wolf shook his head, which just elicited sharp groans of pain from the demon.

Ren sighed and shook her head. “Never a normal day.” She turned to me. “You want to try this time?”

I pulled a face. “Literally, I cannot. Won’t even make it through the first question before I’ll murder him in cold blood. Colder than usual.”

She nodded. “Your eyes are still bright purple. How do you feel?”

“Prbbly bttrr thn hmm,” Wolf said with a full mouth, to the added pain of his current captive.

“Good, actually.” I frowned. Heath Report was clear. My hands were in decent shape. “It might just be a reaction to him being a demon.”

“You use demons—friendly with them to a fault—and yet any outside your control you detest and must erase?” She raised an eyebrow, but she already knew what the answer would be and had accepted it. As much as it needed acceptance, anyway.

With my shrug being the only response, she sighed. “Well, give me some pointers on what to ask them, trickster.”

“Get info on the necromancer and nearby threats. See if there’s anything actually untoward going on at the camp.”

“Shame we can’t do good-cop, bad-cop.” Her eyes lingered on me as she walked away.

I watched her walk over, mostly unsure of how to process that. In the pragmatic sense, the pair of us could work over a mark pretty well with the carrot and stick approach. The continued eye-contact might give rise to a secondary desire, but then again, perhaps she was just spooked by my glowing eyes. I probably would be, if I could see them. Somehow during my travels I hadn’t procured a mirror.

The camp might wonder where their scout had vanished to if we played a little too rough with him. I winced as he screamed; the bear dropping him to the grass. Without proof of his betrayal, they might assume that we were out of control, and they already weren’t keen on how dirtied our hands were with other Player’s blood. Of course, there was also the possibility that they were in on it, and admitting things would get us in deeper trouble.

There was another crunch and Rolo yelped and started to sob. Ren was talking quietly to him, and I couldn’t hear what was asked or what the replies were. Didn’t really matter—despite the sounds of it, I knew she wasn’t torturing him. She would assure me of such in a moment after she had got all the information she could and then his fate was in my hands. That’s just how this show was going to play out. Written in blood already long dried.

I kept my eyes on the back of us, to make sure he had no way of calling backup or the Monsters didn’t start respawning. The sobbing increased, and then Ren rose to walk back over to me.

“That probably sounded bad, but he did that to himself with squirming on his injuries,” she began. “I wasn’t torturing him. Got what information I could, so what are we going to do with him now?”

A wry smile touched the side of my mouth before I turned my face to her. “He is a Crimson Shadow, yet he was not a brainless murderer. Is he redeemable?”

“You’re asking me?” She blew air from her mouth. “We’re not really well-equipped to be the law enforcement around here, or judge on morality.”

I nodded. If the gang had a few more brain cells and less desire to murder everyone in this area, then we might have to employ a more nuanced take. What the Oathwarden said was true, however. If not killing them outright, what could we even do? Left alone, they might cause further trouble. Return to their gang. Track us down for revenge.

Before I even knew it, I had stepped around to the prone figure. Ren had followed me, and Wolf was still guarding his potential next meal. I kneeled down beside the demon and grabbed him by the bloodied shirt, pulling him up to face me.

His single eye was bloodshot. While on first appearances he didn’t seem to have a pupil, it was actually very light gray, and I could see it move about to regard me as I held him. Blood ran from his mouth, darker than normal humanoid blood, but very familiar to me.

“Do you know what I am? What I was?” Now that I was so close to him, I could see purple light illuminating his large orb, my own eyes full of something that he seemed to recognize.

“Hunter…” he gurgled.

“Yes. It is second nature for me to destroy beings like you. At least… in my old world. I’m willing to make a change here, but you have to meet me halfway.” My jaw clenched as I struggled against the desire to kill him.

“Just… fuckin’ kill… me.” His breath was labored.

He wanted it. Gave me permission. I could be the killer I was trained to be and bathe in his demonic blood. Serve my purpose. Rend another life into the nether. One less demon in Hell.

But that performance was rather played out. Where was the showmanship, the desire to wow and dazzle? I wavered as if my head was weighted by the conflicting thoughts.

I let go and dropped him to the floor. Stood back to my feet.

“Team meeting,” I said, my eyes beginning to ache.