“Orthrus, what happens if I create something in here and take it outside?” he asked.
The wisp chuckled. “Ah, thinking of crashing the local economy with wagons loaded down with precious metals, are we?”
“Yes, because that won’t attract a fleet full of mages from the continent.” Rys rolled his eyes. “Vallis thinks we can manage with the Labyrinth artifacts. I just don’t want to create weapons or armor, only for them to vanish when we leave.”
A long pause.
“While it is possible, anything created using the castle’s power will be a permanent drain on it.” Orthrus said. “Any created objects will turn back into magical energy without active support from the castle.”
Rys raised an eyebrow. “The castle was still standing when I got here, despite being unpowered.”
“But a power slate was active in the Labyrinth, was it not? As are many others. Plenty to keep the castle running in maintenance mode.”
“So the castle and Labyrinth are connected? That’s interesting. I wish you’d said that earlier,” Rys said. He crossed his arms. “Hmm. But that means the power of the castle isn’t limited to this blueprint.”
He gestured to the glowing image in front of him. When he had built the castle, he hadn’t been able to build farther than a certain distance away from his current location.
Orthrus made a noise. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“The castle’s power runs through me. I had figured that the construction power being limited to a certain radius meant its power was restricted in distance.” Rys smiled. “But if the castle is connected to the Labyrinth, then doesn’t that mean I should be able to project its power across the entire archipelago, at the very least? That means I might be able to use that power to escape this stupid seal. I just need to find a way.”
“Oh? I am exceedingly curious to see what you come up with,” Orthrus said, followed by a hollow chuckle.
For the time being, Rys raided Vallis’s supplies for anything he might be able to use for forging. No dice. It made sense she wouldn’t have brought anything that heavy.
The merchant wandered past him while he poked through her crates. She let out a yawn and stretched her arms.
“After some food?” she asked. “Pretty sure the demons moved those crates somewhere else.”
“More like something I can use to forge some weapons and armor,” he said.
Then something occurred to him.
“You said that artifacts sell to the continent, right?” he asked.
“That’s right. Pretty much everything pulled out of the Labyrinth gets shipped to Tarmouth, then to either Pharos or Gauron,” she said.
“Tarmouth?” He recalled the name from the map. It had been the town furthest to the west on the map, on an island just off the coast of Kavolara.
“It’s the largest port in the archipelago. The ships from the continents hate sailing into the archipelago, so they stop at Tarmouth. Smaller ships ferry everything between ports on the other islands to Tarmouth,” Vallis explained. “Tarmouth is run by a collective of independent trade guilds and mage towers. It’s probably the only place with real influence from Gauron. They don’t want their trade partner to run into issues.”
Rys made a note of that knowledge. Angering Tarmouth might be a bad idea, at least in the foreseeable future. But they could be a great source of wealth.
“So the artifacts leave the archipelago without any trouble? For that matter, what do you even mean by artifacts? We wandered down to the Labyrinth and didn’t see much of interest,” he said.
Vallis scowled. “I knew you went down there. And you didn’t bring anything back. Fara refused to say what happened.” She huffed. “Artifacts are anything interesting that is clearly from the Labyrinth. Stones with strange markings or sigils. Weapons made of odd metals. Pots and vases that glow in the dark. I think a lot of the monsters are fashioned into jewelry as well.”
“So it’s just random crap from there,” Rys said flatly. “But the Labyrinth creates that stuff out of magic. It should…”
He trailed off. Anything made by magic should vanish once it loses its supply of magical energy. If that wasn’t happening to Labyrinth artifacts, didn’t that mean they lasted longer than anything made by the castle’s power?
That damned wisp. While anything the castle created was a permanent drain on its power, the same wasn’t true of the Labyrinth. The two were connected, but one was far more powerful than the other.
Rys had known he couldn’t trust Orthrus, but this reminded him of that fact.
Vallis stared at him, and he waved her away.
Confronting Orthrus wouldn’t help, but Rys knew that he could secure a permanent supply of materials from the Labyrinth. Maybe he could melt down weapons that he found?
For now, he created some steel ingots using the castle. The drain was tiny. He had experimented with creating fancier metals, such as magically active ones, but they drastically increased the burden on the castle. Retrieving those from the Labyrinth was far smarter.
Rys whiled away the morning forging himself a set of equipment and crafting runes into it.
He kept his weapon simple. His Gift of strength converted any weapon he carried into a magical implement of destruction, capable of cleaving through steel and flesh. So he gave himself a simple battle-axe.
His armor was steel plate and heavily enhanced with runes. He removed the shine, as he had always hated the look of new armor. The runes he added made it far more durable and lightweight, as well as resistant to heat. He sewed some protective runes into a padded gambeson that Vallis had brought with her.
Compared with his old equipment, this was rather pathetic. Grigor’s axe and armor was unchanged from the old days, and far better. Rys had forged them himself. But the knowledge and ability to create equipment that powerful were sealed away for now.
Frustrating.
Rys felt ready to head into the Labyrinth now and let everybody know the plan for the day. He ordered Grigor to send the demons to the Labyrinth entrance.
The demons murmured excitedly as they gathered, talking about their first battle in Harrium.
First battle, huh?
Rys pulled Grigor aside. They watched the other demons head downstairs. Fara and Vallis were down there already.
“These demons are green, aren’t they?” Rys said.
“They are veteran warriors by the current standards of Hell,” Grigor replied. “But that says very little. Very few infernals remember the Empire. Many of us have been lost to either machinations in Hell or wars here. Even my oldest comrades have fought beside me for mere decades.”
“The noble demons?”
Grigor nodded.
Rys bumped a fist against Grigor’s massive arm. The demon prince looked down at him in return.
“Comrades are comrades. I guess I was surprised at how they reacted to the idea of their first time fighting here,” Rys said. “I still remember when you first rocked up here. All of six years old. A tiny little Kashlovian, all eager to serve the glorious Empire.”
“Tiny,” Grigor said, his eyes receding to tiny dots. “I recall towering over you even back then.”
“You were like half your size back then,” Rys said with a grin. “Relatively tiny.”
Grigor shook his head and returned the grin. “Do not tell the others that story.”
The two of them headed down the stairs and joined everybody at the Labyrinth entrance. The noble demons stood shoulder-to-shoulder in front of the repaired steel door, bodily blocking entrance to the Labyrinth. The other demons glared at them.
“Such troublemakers,” Grigor muttered and wandered into the mass of demons to keep order.
Vallis and Fara stood to one side. A conversation took place between Vallis and one of the demons, so Rys joined them.
“I’m not going in there, Terry,” Vallis told the demon. “But it is interesting to see all of you together.”
The demon grunted a
nd crossed his arms. He had a birdlike appearance, deep violet skin, and wore bulky iron armor. His eyes shot over to Rys for a moment, before returning to Vallis’s and pretending his summoner wasn’t standing next to him.
“Didn’t think you were,” the demon grunted. Vallis had called him Terry, but Rys knew his proper name was Terrailin. “But you shouldn’t stay here alone.”
Vallis scowled. “The little demons are here.”
“Imps aren’t demons. I wouldn’t trust them to fight off a baby throwing a tantrum,” Terry said. “You mentioned something about people trying to kill you over breakfast. Doesn’t seem safe to leave you alone.”
Rys raised an eyebrow. Terry was a greater demon and from one of dozens of bird strains, which put his intelligence well above most demons. But this was surprisingly astute for a demon.
“Is there a problem?” Rys asked.
The muscles in Terry’s arms and legs strained as the demon held in his panic. He looked down at Rys, his beady black eyes blinking in surprise. The demon stood at some eight or nine feet tall, but his terror showed in his body.
“Uh,” Terry tried to say.
“The demons bitched about breakfast after those… imps, I think they’re called?” Vallis said, giving Rys a questioning look. He nodded, and she continued, “The imps burned breakfast, so I was going to hunt down a chef in the closest town, Anceston. Figured it would be a great opportunity to find some contacts to sell artifacts to.”
Terry remained silent but his expression spoke volumes.
Rys sighed. “And what’s your opinion, Terrailin.”
The demon coughed. “Uh, I think she needs guards. I want to try some of this human food out, but not if she gets herself killed. Dunno if we can take her into town, though.”
Vallis opened her mouth to say something, only to let out a cough as Fara jabbed her in the ribs.
“You’re right,” Rys told Terry. “And not just about protecting her. We need to leave guards behind here. From now on, you’re in charge of castle security and report directly to Grigor. Talk to Grigor and work out how many demons you think you need.”
Terry’s beak fell open. He snapped it shut a moment later. “I… Thank you, boss!”
The demon slammed his fist into his chest, but then paused and looked at Vallis.
Rys wasn’t finished. “Vallis, wait until we’re back before heading into Anceston. Like it or not, you nearly died yesterday. You need guards, and I’ll need to organize some that can blend in.”
“Alright,” Vallis said, a small pout on her lips. “But bring back some artifacts. If I have some merchandise, it’ll be easy to find some contacts.”
That dealt with that matter. Terry spoke with Grigor, his hands moving excitedly while Grigor rubbed his maw. Fara and Vallis remained in the corner, watching the antics of the demons.
When Rys approached the Labyrinth entrance, the noble demons separated to let him through. The other demons cleared a path around him, careful that their roughhousing didn’t get in his way.
“I can sense the power conduits below us,” Orthrus said, suddenly emerging from the other side of the door.
Rys grimaced and held back his annoyance at the wisp. “Multiple conduits?” he asked. The noble demons would hear him, but he didn’t care about that.
“Yes. The design of the Labyrinth makes it difficult to know where they are for certain, or how far away they are.”
Lovely. “What about the slates?”
“Those are easier to detect. One isn’t too far in, and I can sense more even deeper,” Orthrus said.
That worked for Rys.
He turned around and raised his axe in the air.
The demons fell silent. All of them stopped whatever they were doing or saying and turned to face Rys.
“Gather your weapons,” Rys said. “It’s time to loot this place and kill everything that gets in our way.”
Chapter 8
“What exactly are we searching for?” Fara asked Rys.
“Lots of things,” he answered. “More of the power slates from yesterday. Loot for Vallis to sell. I’m also on the lookout for something special.”
Fara raised an eyebrow. The two of them led the group into the Labyrinth. Well, almost. Orthrus hovered ahead, sometimes pausing for a few moments. Grigor took up the rearguard. Fortunately, the Labyrinth’s ceilings were massive enough that he didn’t need to stoop despite his height.
This was only the third floor of the Labyrinth and not much had changed. Rooms of gray granite blended together. Water flooded some rooms, forcing them to wade through it. Other times they crossed bridges. Huge halls full of strange traps slowed their passage occasionally.
Despite the obstacles, their path had been a straight line, only broken up by the stairs down. Rys felt like they weren’t getting anywhere, but he had no choice but to rely on Orthrus here.
Most of Rys’s demons were with him. Grigor had given Terry a dozen lesser demons to use as guards and kept the rest. That gave Terry enough strength to beat up any locals, while keeping the best fighters with the Labyrinth group.
Not that Rys felt there was much difference between the greater and lesser demons. The difference between the two was that a greater demon had a Gift of some sort, but demons relied almost entirely on physical strength and skill. Lesser demons often gained Gifts as they grew older, or they purchased them from devils.
And the noble demons could mop the floor with every other demon anyway. But Rys wouldn’t turn away fighters right now.
Given Fara’s reaction to them, every demon was worth their weight in the skulls of future enemies. If he gave them a chance to improve their combat skills, they’d be an elite fighting force that could wipe out whatever threats lurked outside the castle.
“I take it you won’t tell me what that ‘something special’ is?” Fara asked, pulling Rys back into the conversation.
“You’ll know it when you see it,” Rys said. Maybe she wouldn’t, but it seemed like a good guess.
“Is your adviser guiding us?” she asked.
“Yes.” He paused. “I may need to talk aloud with them from time to time. The Labyrinth seems to make it difficult to contact them.”
Fara raised her eyebrow again. “I’m surprised you can talk with them at all. I don’t know of any method of communication that works down here. Both sendings and teleportation are impossible.”
Well, wasn’t that convenient? Nobody could teleport in or out of the Labyrinth.
“Sendings?” Rys asked, unsure about what those were.
“How do you not know about those?” Fara asked. “They’re the primary method of communication for human mages. They use evocation to instantly communicate with one another mentally.”
“In case you forgot, I predate the invention of evocation,” Rys said drily.
Instant mental communication, huh? Devils had a method of doing that, but it was a racial thing. Maybe Rys should take Darus’s advice and learn evocation after all.
Unearthly screams interrupted them. Instantly, the demons charged forth. Labyrinth monsters met demons in a bloody melee. Rys stood back and watched.
Grigor joined the two of them, hefting his axe over his shoulder. His eyes glowed dimly as he surveyed the battle.
Although the Labyrinth hadn’t changed in appearance, the monster had. Shark-beasts continued to burst from within whatever water was nearby. In this room, there was a large pool in one corner from which a dozen sharks leaped out from.
But six-armed lizard monsters had joined the fray. They showed genuine intelligence and tactics, unlike the misshapen goblins. Each of their arms carried either a bronze weapon or buckler. Their surprising ability to attack with six arms at once would have made them deadly to humans, particularly as they always attacked from multiple directions and in large numbers.
For the demons, the lizards made great punching bags. The bronze weapons of the lizards bounced off the armored hides of the demons. But the demons cut t
hrough two or even three lizards with a single blow, sending rainbow scales clattering everywhere.
The noble demons didn’t even use their runic axes. They instead made sport out of the lizards and beat them to death with their bare hands. Every time a noble demon punched a lizard’s head off, the demon shouted out a number. They were keeping count of how many lizards they each killed.
Fara watched with a dull gaze, her tails curled up close around her.
“Dangerous place, huh?” Rys said.
“Don’t start,” Fara muttered.
“it is good practice for them,” Grigor said. “And good fun. I believe Lady Vallis will be pleased with our haul.”
A few handcarts were loaded up with whatever loot looked valuable. The bronze weapons of the lizards sometimes carried interesting inscriptions, and some rooms had some interesting pottery. But a lot of the “artifacts” were junk. Vallis could use them to guide the demons on what was valuable and what wasn’t for future reference.
After the current group of enemies was defeated and their corpses picked clean of anything valuable, the group continued on.
On the fifth floor, they came to a crossroads. An enormous hall stood at the bottom of a long balcony staircase, shrouded in darkness. Two other staircases stood in the far corners. In the center, four pillars rose up to the ceiling, each the width of a small house. The ceiling rose two or three times the height of the previous rooms.
“Can you make out what’s down there?” Fara asked.
“No. The darkness is magical,” Rys said.
“A trap. The moment we walk down into the hall, the foe will descend on us,” Grigor said.
The demons looked over the edge of the staircase, murmuring to each other.
Orthrus hovered down there. After a few minutes, he returned.
“There is a power slate here,” he said. “But it’s a trap.”
“Of course it is,” Rys said, ignoring the looks he received. “The moment we take the slate, enemies will attack us, right?”
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