Reborn to Devour: A Demonic LitRPG

It felt like we had been walking for an hour since Squealer’s proclamation and no cabal of new demonic humans had offered us a welcome party. Each and every intersection was crossed without even a hint of hesitation. An air of confidence and focus wafted the quilled demon who no longer seemed tortured by recent events.

It wasn’t until we reached the final intersection that I also began to detect the same scents that Squealer did. It smelled like a trip to the barnyard; unwashed fur filled my nose. A tuft of fur clung to the rocky surface to advertise the overpowering odors to any that wandered by. I wondered if it was a marker, a mistake, or a lure.

A slightly brighter light awaited us at the end of the tunnel. Before crossing into the new place, Squealer froze. He sniffed more, surprised by whatever he whiffed.

“Wait,” Squealer hissed. “If they are anything like you-“

“Like us,” I corrected and moved towards the opening.

Intrigued by that potential, I stuck my head out of the tunnel to observe the interior. A large, atrium-like void in the rock awaited me. This tunnel was quite high in the opening, with most of the activity occurring far below. Numerous demons walked, plodded, crawled, slithered, scuttled and hovered along the rocky floor. They clambered in and out of various tunnels that lined the walls, likely using more complete maps to guide them.

And they all reeked. It was no wonder that Squealer’s more sensitive nose was able to detect them from such a long distance.

For the first time, the map had the label on it. In large letters, the void on the map read “Tainaronopolis”.

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want to know how a city operated by the damned works,” Squealer remarked apprehensively.

“They seem to be entering and leaving easily enough,” I commented, appraising the visible strength of those below. Outside of a handful of hulking forms, I was not impressed. “Maybe we’ll learn something. Or do you want to go back and wander the tunnels more?”

Squealer sighed. “At least, there appears to be numerous places to escape to.”

“That’s the spirit,” I encouraged, sticking an arm out of the opening.

In order to reach the settlement below, we would have to scale about thirty feet of jagged rock wall. The coarse texture of the surface made securing hand and foot holds far easier for a rock climbing novice like myself.

The rock climbing fad had only started after my lifelong imprisonment. Trevor talked about gaining a membership at a new rock climbing gym with a few of his college friends to get in shape. It was one of those things that I felt stupid for missing out on. That, if I just managed to clench my teeth and ignore those urges, I might have found enjoyment in something more constructive. But, I knew that I had failed despite my efforts to rein myself in. My current state was almost preordained.

While I tested my weight upon the rocks and pressed my claws into the porous stone, Squealer looked apprehensively down at the potential plummet to the rocks below. He grabbed a rock close to him and tried to jostle it with his weight. It did not budge, however, a few pebbles were dislodged and went tumbling down the wall, clattering against all the rocks that it met.

“Do you think a fall from this height is survivable?” Squealer wondered aloud.

“Even if it isn’t, you won’t stay dead,” I answered, taking a few more steps down the side. As long as I kept a steady pace, I would reach the bottom without difficulty.

“I just don’t want to lose stats,” Squealer whined, defending his cowardice with logic. He looked around once more, then back into the cave.

Finally, he clambered down the rocks. His lighter body and short claws made him far more adept than I was, descending at over twice the speed of my weighty reptile body. Once he realized his ability, he scurried down at an even faster rate of speed, leaving me still far up in the air.

As the quilled rodent got closer to the bottom, we were finally noticed by the demons loitering around on the ground. They didn’t call out to us newcomers. Instead, they watched and spoke quietly to themselves. But, they weren’t immediately hostile, which I saw as a promising sign of civility.

I could see Squealer freeze once he reached the bottom, the realization that he was unsupported finally striking him. I was still twenty or so feet up and I would need a few more moments to safely reach the bottom.

I thought about delaying my descent to make the rat sweat and face the welcome party on his own. However, I decided against it. I’d much rather make an impactful first impression than feel brief amusement at Squealer’s expense.

I looked down at the distance to the ground. Feeling confident that a fall from this height wouldn’t be fatal, I rotated my body to face the open air and jumped off from the wall. I fell for a couple seconds before my legs landed sturdily on the rocks below. I bent my knees with the impact to diffuse as much of the energy as I could. Regardless of my beautiful landing, pain shot up my legs and my health bar dropped by over a third before it steadily began to climb back up to normal. In a few minutes, the pain would subside, but the awe I would create through my arrival would last far longer.

I looked upwards towards the mouth of the tunnel. A jump from the top would have cut it closely. Hostile demons might have torn me apart if they saw that it wounded me. Squealer wouldn’t have survived at all.

The impact of the landing made Squealer and the other observers flinch in surprise. But, upon seeing that I was uninjured, they started to murmur and gossip amongst themselves. They cast looks of suspicion with inhuman eyes towards the both of us.

I returned their lack of greeting with a bored expression. I started to assess which forms might pose the greatest challenge to him. A bat with large fangs and undersized wings, a man with compound eyes and the scythe arms of a praying mantis, and a gorilla-looking creature appeared to be the most imposing of the bunch. At least, they were the only things that stirred emotion within me, the only things that seemed entertaining.

However, it was none of those demons that extended the first greetings. A goat-headed creature was the first to depart from the onlookers and approach us. It walked with an awkward gait on its hooved two legs. It appeared to have chosen to defy its modified anatomy in preference of the upright posture of the person that it once was. It clasped its hands together and grinned in welcome.

“Welcome, lost souls, to Tainaronopolis,” it bleated in a high pitch at the pair. “My name is Pakara. I have lived in this place for a very long time. Tell me, are you new souls or old? Do either of you have names yet?”

“I’m Ishmael,” I greeted. I reached out my hand to shake Pakara’s, but the goat reflexively took a step away from me. I chose to not take it personally.

“I’m…I’m Squealer,” the rodent said in defeat, unable to think up a more suitable name for himself on the fly. Seeing how Pakara reacted to me, Squealer did not try to shake the goat’s hand. “I believe that we have died only recently. It has not felt like long since we’ve been in the tunnels. I was starting to wonder if anyone else was down here.”

“Yes,” Pakara chuckled, reminiscing about days long gone by. “I wandered the tunnels for a very long time before I found this refuge. Come with me, I’ll introduce you to Pýlicles. He’s the one in charge of this place.”

Squealer offered a look of worry towards me, but I just shrugged and moved to follow the goat. Even if I also didn’t trust this place, I wasn’t particularly interested in stumbling through the tunnels aimlessly after finding such a large gathering of demons. This Pýlicles sounded like someone who would actually know something about the portal out. Worst comes to worst, I had a perfect sacrifice to ensure my escape.

Now that the onlookers dispersed, I could see that stone hovels lined the floor of the cavern. The diverse forms of horrors seemed to flitter in and out of the buildings. Without the need to sleep, I could only wonder what they would do in the hovels. Sit?

Heaven forbid anything more than that.

Behind the hollowed-stone abodes sat a commons area. Glowing moss and mushrooms were arranged in various patterns to create narrow paths of rock that wove through the multicolored vegetation. Demons spoke to each other with ugly smiles and relaxed postures, only tensing up when we invaded their peaceful space.

In the center of these gardens, an arch made of smooth marble stood like an alien monolith. A large red crystal sat in the keystone of the structure, looking down upon the demons like an infernal eye.

“Yes, that is the Portal,” Pakara stated in answer before I could form the words. “We must tolerate its presence in our refuge. Such a terrible thing cannot be destroyed.”

“Why would you want to break it?” Squealer asked curiously. “How else would you progress?”

Pakara bleated a bemused laugh. She covered her mouth with both hands to self-consciously hide her mouth from us. Then, once she realized that neither of us shared in her mirth, tilted her head in surprise.

“Progress?” She asked in a concerned tone. “Why would you wish to progress?”

Another boring answer, but not one that I did not understand. There was no inherent purpose that had been revealed to entice me to go further. Only an assumption that more interesting battles awaited me higher up motivated me to do so.

What I did know was that I was not going to exist for the rest of time in this rocky armpit.

“Because it’s an endless labyrinth of narrow tunnels with no natural light,” Squealer answered, echoing my dissatisfaction with the locale. “Why would I want to stay in a place like this?”

“Because, this is the best place,” Pakara answered with a voice stressed by Squealer’s lack of immediate agreement. Her large eyes watched the guests with wariness. “This is an endless punishment. Progressing will only take you to more horrific places, to worse places at the mercy of worse creatures. Please, abandon those thoughts of moving on. If Pýlicles approves of you, then you will be able to stay here in peace. We only fight the stray monster or hostile demon. Otherwise, it is perfectly safe. In fact, most of us haven’t even reach-”

“That is enough, Pakara,” a voice interrupted from an unknown origin.

The goat demon immediately snapped to attention, looking straight ahead. I unsuccessfully looked around to locate the origin of the sound while Squealer lowered himself in preparation of whatever terrible thing sprouted within his mind.

Instead, all we received was a dulcet chuckle.

Long-limbed shadows sprouted forth from every angle, the lack of a single source of light obscuring the direction of the voice’s approach. I could see Squealer cowering in nervous fear near my scaled legs.

From a perch on high, the hairy legs of a spider gripped the surface of the rocks and clambered effortlessly down the side of the cave walls. Atop the massive arachnid was the upper half of a man with a large curly beard. He piloted his unnatural lower half as a centaur would. His arms were spread in magnanimous welcome.

“Hail, newcomers, I am Pýlicles,” the spider centaur greeted. “Welcome to Tainaronopolis.”