by Oliver Mayes
Lillian swished Excalibur over the body, discarding the blood, and slotted the naked blade back onto her belt. Andrew listlessly stared at the corpse Lillian had created. Having pursued this goal for so long, Lillian had thought she’d be pleased once it was accomplished, to put it mildly. She was usually happy and relieved to have dealt with a powerful adversary. Andrew’s talk, which he’d purposefully publicized, put the whole thing into perspective. This wasn’t a victory for him. He’d accomplished a deeply unpleasant task. She knew, because she’d been in that position herself not too long ago.
Lillian decided the rest of this conversation was not for other people’s ears, assuming any of it ever had been.
“Magnitude is dead. I’ll be back shortly to help secure the wall. Thank you for your service. The Empire owes those who participated a great debt, which will be paid in full.”
She closed the group down. Then carefully walked over to Andrew, examining him to make sure he didn’t reject her approach. He was still staring at the body. She gently put the palm of her hand between his shoulder blades, and when he didn’t reject that either she settled it there and rubbed his back as platonically as she could.
“You did the right thing.”
“I don’t know. What if I’d—”
“No ‘what if’s. You can’t fix other people. They can only choose to fix themselves. That’s a lot harder when they’re being rewarded for terrible behavior.”
Andrew snorted, his eyes still not leaving the headless corpse she’d created.
“Is that why you came after me with Damien? Because you wanted to ‘fix’ me?”
“Nope. I was filled with rage and misery and wanted to completely destroy your life. My actions had zero moral bearing. Redeeming you came later, but that had nothing to do with me: you did it all by yourself. Maybe, in time, Richard will understand as well. Like you did.”
“Or maybe he’ll be the same manipulative turd for all eternity.”
“Maybe. That’s on him. Not you.”
She patted him a couple of times and dropped her hand back down. The situation was already uncomfortable without inadvertently signaling she wanted to hook up. Change of subject.
“Sorry I killed him. I know you said we wouldn’t—”
“I never said that. I said I wouldn’t kill him. I was very careful with my wording, since I knew you’d probably do it when I didn’t. Just don’t loot the body. We don’t need anything from him.”
Fair enough. Lillian turned and stared at the body with him. Magnitude had constituted such a huge threat for such a long time. Now it just looked sad. So much for an epic final battle. They couldn’t just leave it there, though. It wasn’t that far from the wall and an enterprising player might swing by and loot him after they’d left.
“Andrew? Do you want to bury the body?”
“Seems appropriate.”
The first thing Damien noticed was the heat. It smothered him as soon as he passed through the portal. Then he was smothered by Archimonde, which was considerably worse.
Damien knew just how quickly portals closed after their casters passed through them, hence his haste. He’d just about made it through, but his landing had been less than controlled: he couldn’t see where he was going until he’d arrived. In this case, his “arrival” consisted of whapping into Archimonde’s front with a slick slap. He was wrapped around a sweaty, turgid ball of flesh, and it was biting him.
He’d twisted the kunai to break free when Archimonde had executed a pro-gamer move: rather than supporting Damien’s weight or trying to push him off, the demon had collapsed on top of him. Before Damien could break free, it pointed at the floor next to Damien’s head and a Circle of Hell formed around them. Damien was being cooked and eaten, both of which were healing Archimonde, and he was pinned by Archimonde’s bulk from above and the root of the circle from below.
Damien’s elbows and the back of his head were among the extremities that were now locked to the ground. This was a situation where brute force would not work. He cast his eyes around, looking for what he needed. They’d passed through Archimonde’s portal. They were in Archimonde’s base. Bases have—
You’re mine. Come here.
Demon Gate was still on cooldown, but any extra help was welcome at that moment. A consumer was the closest. The tongue lashed around Archimonde’s neck and drew it backward. Archimonde was seven levels higher than him and the consumer was as strong as it could be under Damien’s control, yet it wasn’t anywhere near strong enough to pull Archimonde off him. It was strong enough to lever its former master’s head up, prompting Archimonde’s hands to reach for its own neck instead of keeping Damien’s arms pinned down. Just as Damien’s Narcissistic Rage activated and the root ended.
Damien swung his weapons round, skewering Archimonde’s head between them. He was pretty sure he felt the blades scrape against each other, inside Archimonde’s head. That’s a lot of damage. Yet not enough: Archimonde still had two-thirds of its health.
Since when did stabbing something in the head, twice, not even bring it below half health? It was ridiculous even without considering Might Makes Right and the resulting carnage. Each critical strike had inflicted over 2,500 damage, over 5,000 damage together. Archimonde had something in the region of 15,000 hit points. Which were continuing to go up as Damien’s went down.
The root was gone from his arms but the fire hadn’t stopped burning and the teeth hadn’t stopped churning. A damage race, then. Archimonde was already being laid into by a flock of newly winged imps at its back, the consumer’s tongue wrapped around its neck and two succubi, all forcibly donated into Damien’s Soul Summon Limit fund. Between them and him, one way or another this battle would be over in seconds. Either the increasing damage of Archimonde’s Circle of Hell and the teeth being raked across the front of Damien’s torso would overtake him, or Damien would finish this in the next couple of blows.
He twisted the kunai and was drawing them back when the minions broke off their engagement with Archimonde. They were fleeing to the back of the cave. They’d left Damien’s Soul Summon Limit and were no longer under his control. A gnarled, immaculately manicured hand seized Archimonde by the top of its head and yanked it out of range before Damien’s kunai could swing back into its temples. The second hand seized one of Damien’s horns and discarded him outside the circle.
“Why can’t they ever play nicely without adult supervision?”
Lucifer may have been wearing his permanent unskinned grin, but he did not sound happy. Enraged Damien was tank-sized, larger and more impressive than Lucifer physically, if not quite so terrifying to behold. Looks can be deceiving. Lucifer had manhandled both him and Archimonde with ease.
“Archie baby, you know how this works. Fights between Sins in Hell have strict rules. Give me one good reason not to revoke your standing.”
Damien was still balking at ‘Archie baby’ when Archimonde pointed a finger into his face. Damien swatted it away, earning a growl from Lucifer for each of them, as Archimonde scapegoated his problems away.
“I had to defend myself from this noob. He followed me through my portal, took control of my minions and tried to kill me.”
Damien stared at the creature. Archimonde sounded pretty normal when it wasn’t doing its dodgy weaboo speak. Lucifer nodded sagely, then turned his attention to Damien.
“Damien. As the first Sin, I expected better from you. That’s not how we do things here.”
“How am I supposed to know something I’ve never been—”
“Always with the tiresome excuses. Your mistakes never have anything to do with you, do they?”
Complete shutdown. A line composed of utter tripe that was impossible to defend against. Archimonde continued slathering its tongue up and down its savior’s backside.
“Thank you for setting him straight, my lord. As you can see, Daemien has encroached on my base in Hell’s Hunting Grounds and attacked a fellow Sin in your domain without going th
rough the proper channels. I demand punishment.”
Hell’s Hunting Grounds? This was Hell? It was hard to tell in this cave, but that at least explained the heat. Damien lacked the capacity to be both curious and angry at the same time. He fell into the latter.
“I have no idea what the rules are here. Archimonde killed me first, I’m returning the favor. It’s that simple, what’s not—”
“Not knowing the rules is not a defense against following them, and no one is obligated to tell you what they are. Be quiet.”
“So where can I find the rules? Are they written down somewhe—”
“I make them up as I go along! This is my domain! Silence!”
Damien couldn’t believe it. What point was there in being the Embodiment of Pride when the very entity who’d granted him it wouldn’t let him accomplish his goal? Every fiber in his being wanted to erase Archimonde from existence, yet Lucifer had prevented him from exacting his revenge and was now apparently about to punish him for attempting to do so. It didn’t seem very satanic from where Damien was standing, but Lucifer dressed it up well enough.
“You have disobeyed the laws of Hell. You have trampled on my authority as sovereign and questioned my judgment in front of my subjects. There is no greater crime.”
This didn’t sound good. Archimonde was grinning broadly, with both mouths. Its stomach looked like a zombified smiley emoji. Lucifer pointed at Damien.
“I shall now pass sentence. Your punishment is—”
His hand swiveled round and suddenly Lucifer was pointing directly at Archimonde instead.
“—to fight Archimonde to the death in ‘Mortal Sin Combat’.”
Damien had to think fast.
“Uuuuh...oh, no. Please. Anything but that.”
Off to his right, Archimonde started to stammer.
“B-but my lord, you sai—”
“B-b-but my lord! You said— SHUT UP, Archimonde. Nobody likes a suck-up, not even me. If you’re so keen on seeing Damien punished you can do it yourself. I’ve already set the stage.”
A portal opened behind Lucifer as he came to the end of his sentence. Either he could manifest them instantly or he’d started ten seconds ago and it took him next to no concentration whatsoever. Lucifer shoved Archimonde through first, before the creature could weasel its way out of it. Damien passed through immediately afterwards of his own accord. Lucifer came through behind them, took one of each of their hands and raised them up to cheers, screams and thunderous applause.
They were standing at the center of a giant coliseum, more than twice the size of the space in which Damien had fought Toutatis. It was large enough for armies to fight in. The only feature was a gigantic skull throne in the very center, which they’d arrived in front of. Damien recognized it. This was where he’d first met Lucifer. Everything beyond the throne had been veiled before, but he could see it all clearly now, illuminated by a blood-red sun that scorched overhead.
No stone columns and no prebattle ceiling in here, but there were other similarities. Once again the floor was densely packed sand and the battlespace was circular, hemmed in by stone walls from atop which the shrieks of the audience rained down upon them. This audience was strange, to say the least: the stands above the walls were filled with thousands of demonic minions of every kind.
This seemed like a good time to be livestreaming. Damien double-checked he was still rolling. Win or lose, this would get a lot of views. It wouldn’t be worth as much to do his good deed, putting Archimonde in his place, if there was no one watching.
Lucifer turned to his combatants.
“Rule one: No enthralling your enemy’s minions. That means you, Damien, since you’re the higher-ranking Sin.”
Damn. That was his biggest advantage over Archimonde gone. He could see why Lucifer required his highest-ranking underlings to settle disputes this way. That didn’t mean he liked it.
“Rule two: Any and all abilities are allowed, with one exception: you may not summon Noigel. Summoning Noigel will result in your immediate disqualification, automatic forfeiture of the match and subsequent execution, by me.”
Now Damien’s second-biggest advantage over Archimonde was gone. He had a Soul Summon Limit of 45, but controlling all of his minions simultaneously would be a difficult prospect without Noigel’s help. He was about to ask why but managed to bite his tongue. Debating it would only result in derision and lost favor, at best.
“Rule three: You have one minute to select your full Soul Summon Limit’s worth of minions from my personal retinue. You may not attack each other, or each other’s minions, until after the minute has passed.”
The four gates at each compass point of the coliseum opened and demons began pouring out of them, gathering around the outer wall. They all had green writing above their heads. There were hundreds of them, all filing around the edges before standing perfectly still at equal distances. Lucifer’s personal retinue was akin to a small rapture. They continued to assemble as Lucifer moved on to the next rule.
“Rule four: When your opponent is on the verge of death, I shall disable them and cry “FINISH HIM”, at which point you must dispatch them in the most brutal way you can imagine. Brutal enough to constitute a Mortal Sin. If it does not please me, both of you will be deemed losers.”
Damien turned and stared at Archimonde. He had no problem with that rule. It didn’t even need to be stated, considering what he was getting Archimonde back for: humiliating and eating him, then using an ability on Lillian that practically broke her. There wouldn’t be much point in Damien going through with this unless he repaid Archimonde in kind.
Archimonde glanced back at him, then quickly set its gaze ahead. The blubbering and stammering were gone, but the anxiety was bubbling just below the surface. Was Archimonde really that scared of a twenty-four-hour death timer? The battle was already done, this was just the fight at the end for the cherry on the cake. Surely for Archimonde, who was seven levels higher than him and obviously had vastly better gear, this was a good prospect. So why was the creature not into it?
Lucifer spoke the final rule and Damien found out.
“Rule five: The loser, or losers, will be stripped of their Sin. Your time starts now.”
Lucifer took his seat and the crowd of demons fell deathly silent. Waiting to be picked. Only now the fight had started did Archimonde’s reluctance make sense. Damien had only just got this form, he hadn’t realized he could lose it this way. He’d wanted to one-up Archimonde, he didn’t think there’d be anything more permanent than death on the line. Now he was at personal risk.
Wait. Never mind the risk for himself. The odds may have been stacked against him, but now he could really hurt Archimonde. If he got this right, Archimonde would never be a threat to anyone again. Only as a regular occultist anyway, which was nothing compared to what the creature was now.
If Damien had been given this as a choice, he’d have probably taken it. It was only because it was being foisted on him at the last moment that he wasn’t sure. This was by design, to throw him off. An advantage for Archimonde, who already knew the rules of this engagement.
He needed minions. What to pick? Know your enemy. Archimonde was a magic-user, so the first pick was easy. Damien glanced at a consumer at the outer wall and it began to trundle toward him. Archimonde wasn’t picking. It was watching. That was part of the game too. Regardless of what Archimonde eventually picked, there were certain things he’d absolutely—
Which was when Damien realized something important: his health wasn’t at full. He’d been regaining it slowly, but it was only at 2,827/4,800. Damien’s health had been low when Lucifer had brought the fight between him and Archimonde to a halt. There hadn’t been enough time to fully regenerate.
The same went for Archimonde, right? Damien quickly turned to look at his competitor and realised the creature had been flicking its wrist while he’d been looking away. Archimonde’s health was rising rapidly. Damien followed Archimonde’s g
aze and found several of the minions at the outer wall on fire, burning from Corruption. Archimonde was using it in combination with its spell-vamp to economically restore its own health.
The rules had stipulated they couldn’t attack each other’s minions, it didn’t say anything about attacking Lucifer’s. The burning minions were just standing there, taking the damage without becoming hostile. Archimonde had tried to do it without Damien noticing to gain a decisive advantage.
What kind of deathmatch starts with the players at less than full health? A deathmatch in Hell, with Lucifer adjudicating. The demons in the stands were whooping and hollering. This was part of the entertainment. Never mind which minions he’d pick for now, Damien needed to get back to full health. His inventory was absent while he was in this form, so potions wouldn’t cut it. If he changed into his normal form to drink potions, he wouldn’t have the soul energy to change back. He’d have to follow Archimonde’s example.
He picked out an incubus off to the side that Archimonde hadn’t selected yet and ran toward it, kunai raised. Thank goodness he’d noticed this problem, otherwise he’d have started with an enormous handicap. He’d nearly reached the incubus when he realized there was another problem. His health was above half and he didn’t have Narcissistic Rage enabled. Archimonde’s spell-vamp appeared to be constant, whereas Damien’s life-steal was only active for ten seconds after dropping below half health.
Desperate times, desperate measures. Damien took his kunai and cut himself, trying to measure it out so he’d remove only as much health as necessary. Down to 2,330/4,800. As soon as he bulked up, he turned on Lucifer’s incubus. Right as he stabbed it, it ignited in black flames. The fire spread to him as he touched it. That was an attack! Archimonde had attacked him! He looked to Lucifer, waiting for the announcement that Archimonde had forfeited the match. Lucifer was sitting quite still, his head propped up on his elbow, staring straight at Damien with that permanent grin. He’d seen it and approved. He was allowing it.