Chapter 31

  - Hold up, Aiden, we need to talk alone.

  - No time. Dozens of demons need my help.

  - That can wait. This is more important.

  - More important than my friends’ lives?

  - Yup.

  - Fuck… Fine, but make it quick. Sounds serious.

  - You gotta regrow my pinky.

  - What?!

  - Too long to explain why it’s a big deal. But it’s about my dad. Needs to happen ASAP. Trust me, my dad’ll be pissed if you don’t help me now.

  - Alright… – Aiden gritted his teeth and started casting around my hand. A few minutes later, my finger was back. That’s what you get with a healer who’s got mad skills and a big-shot dad in power.

  - Who’s running the siege? – I asked after.

  - Nobody, really. But the demons listen to me. You could say I’m the senior here.

  - Perfect. How do I sneak into the city?

  - You don’t. Every approach is heavily guarded.

  - Got it… I’ve got an idea. It’s risky as hell, but if it works, you gotta promise me something.

  - What?

  - Nobody can know who I really am. We don’t know who else is in on the plot, so this stays between us. We don’t even tell Kserox when he’s general. (No way I’m spreading that idiocy further.)

  - Ksafraks?

  - Yeah, him. It’s hard to keep a secret with two people, but with three, it’s damn near impossible. (Best case, only one knows. Ideally, me.)

  - Wait… Two? Where’s Nimus?

  For a second, my face darkened. Nimus… My good friend. I had to play this perfectly, channel all the fake grief and sorrow I cooked up. Gotta recall those good times we had together. That should bring tears to my tired eyes. Fuck… Not working. Time for the heavy artillery: Paralyzed Hachiko waiting outside the prison for John Coffey, sentenced to death on false murder charges for Maximus’s family while he drowned on the Titanic.

  - He… He’s gone… (Shit, overdid it. Bit too dramatic.)

  - What…? – Aiden staggered.

  - We walked into a trap. I think Ksiron saw our move coming. Only thanks to Nimus’s courage did I escape. I’ll never forget what he did. (Yeah, right… That epic fuck-up will haunt me till I die.)

  - He was a good guy… He didn’t deserve that.

  - Agreed. We gotta make Ksiron pay. He’ll feel our wrath full force!

  My plan was borderline insane. On one side, it bordered insanity. Not the side with rational, measured decisions, but the one with suicidal ravings of a schizophrenic orangutan. But no one would expect this.

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  - Here, we’ll need this armor. – I showed Aiden the cart’s contents.

  - Stunning work. This armor’s fit for kings. You wanna give it to our strongest demon? With that protection, they wouldn’t fear any physical attacks.

  - Not exactly…

  I pulled out the plates, surprisingly light, and tossed them into a lava stream. Aiden’s face froze in shock. But when I borrowed a sledgehammer and smashed the precious metal a few times, the healer finally opened his mouth:

  - What… the fuck… did you do?

  - Don’t piss yourself. It’s part of the plan. There we go. – When I was left with a shapeless, useless hunk of something, I stopped, satisfied.

  - I hope you know what you’re doing. – Aiden whispered.

  - By the way, tell me more about Ksiron. What’s his specialty?

  - He’s a close-combat mage.

  - What’s that mean?

  - You born yesterday?

  - I’m seventeen.

  - Fine… He’s got unique magic. Creates chains and wields them like a pro. His class leans toward melee. High strength stats.

  - Hmm… Cool. How do I beat him?

  - You don’t. Zero chance.

  - Optimistic…

  But I’m not planning to fight him. I need this cart, kitty, and this pile of scrap. If luck’s on my side, my gamble might pay off. Never once has anything gone wrong for me. Probably ‘cause I never had a plan. But now I’ve got one! Damn, it feels good to say: I’ve got a plan… Oh, yeah… I’m pumped. What’s at stake? Just my life…

  A few hours later, a battered kitty, dragging his load toward the city, looked like he’d just landed in Normandy. Dead. Only divine spirit kept him upright, but he kept going. He was utterly alone. When he finally reached the destination, the defending demons just exchanged confused looks. One approached to check the mysterious visitor. Within minutes, Ksiron himself stood nearby.

  - Your Majesty, this kitty wandered in from those idiots’ side.

  - What? Gary? I sent that kitty with Lilia to the surface. What’d they do to him? Sick bastards… Wait… No way… Show me what’s in the cart, now!

  - Your Radiance, you don’t wanna see this.

  - What’s in the cart?!

  - Your Magnificence, you shouldn’t…

  - WHAT’S IN THE FUCKING CART?!!

  Finally, a demon yanked off the rough tarp, revealing true horror.

  - This… This is my armor? My custom order… – Ksiron’s majestic voice trembled like leaves in the wind. – My black, exquisite plates of enchanted high-strength dwarven steel, adorned with masterful engravings by the renowned elven craftsman Ravos Liron in late-demonic style, with inlays of ultra-rare red draconic mithril and fire-breathing black gold of the ancient Rok Rus Ram Ul Des dynasty?

  - Your Unrestrained Mightiness?

  - Your Unmatched Splendor?

  - Your Cross-Wavy Greatness?

  Ksiron lost touch with reality. He cradled the shapeless metal lump, once worth a city. He barely moved, as if the slightest motion would turn it to ash. His demon heart split in two, and from that crack surged a torrent of uncontrollable rage, swallowing everything like an avalanche.

  - I’LL KIIIIILL!!!

  Dozens of long chains erupted from his hands, tearing everyone apart. Only Garik seemed to sense the storm coming and bolted. Those lucky enough to survive the chaos of demonic fury watched the destruction. Like an octopus’s tentacles, the chains smashed houses and their occupants like they were cardboard.

  - I’LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE!!!

  - Master, snap out of it!

  - Your Lethal Slaughtership, there’s too many!

  - If Your Unrivaled Unrivaledness attacks now, we risk losing!

  At the cost of dozens of corpses, the demons calmed their master. Oddly, their loyalty outweighed common sense, and almost none renounced their general. Those who grumbled about Ksiron’s actions were later found dead. And later still, not found at all. The city had about five hundred demons, nearly half the number waiting outside. They might’ve had a shot at victory with a Napoleon or Hannibal in charge, but in this primitive society, few knew the words “tactics” or “strategy.” At least, I hadn’t met any. Trapped in hell, they lacked real war experience.

  Well, whatever. The general turned out smarter than I thought and didn’t take my bait. It could’ve ended so simply with one piece of metal if Ksiron had gone on a sortie. Then again, if I’d known how much that metal was worth, I’d have thought twice. But… What do I need money for in hell?

  So, when things calmed down and everyone scattered, lone Gary, clumsily shuffling, found a quiet spot and collapsed like a sack of potatoes. This is too much… I’ve got more focus than a neurosurgeon. I need a break. Leveling up magic control is always draining. I pulled out my dagger and carefully cut the stitches. Good thing demons don’t read ancient literature. I poked my head out of the monster’s body and took a deep breath. Can’t believe it worked. The virus successfully infiltrated!