But nobody was thinking about that back then. The demons thirsted for vengeance and the destruction of the aggressors. And they got both.
Usually, after repelling an assault from barbarians, the legions would return home. But not this time. The demonic army exploded outwards to take vengeance, crashing through the continent like a tidal wave. The New Gods panicked – their temples were being torn down to their foundations, their followers sacrificed, their supply of Faith strangled.
But the demons, too, were exhausted. Their melding with Chaos had its downsides; now they needed chao, which they couldn’t find in Disgardium.
The demons retreated to Andara. The New Gods licked their wounds, encouraged their followers to multiply, created a cult around motherhood and fertility. Half a century later, Nergal’s new army marched on Andara…
Strangely, the book didn’t mention the Departed at all.
For all these years, Diablo has been searching for a way out. The demons couldn’t throw off the yoke of Chaos, so all they could do was relocate to a place where nothing limited its influence – the great nothing. During his first banishment, Diablo had seen a piece of land there from who knows where. Perhaps it was thrown out of some other dimension, or maybe the Sleepers created it, so that the future prince of the Inferno would have a place in which to languish in exile. The three princes decided to move their people there… along with all the land of Andara.
But Belial the Treacherous wouldn’t have earned his nickname if he hadn’t come up with a way to return. That was when the demons created the new version of the Demonic Games, and the Old Gods agreed to the Demonic Pact, witnessed by the Celestial Arbitration. According to the pact, the demons not only had the right to return, but also maintained their claim to the spirits of those mortals who did not belong to any of the gods of Disgardium.
I learned why the princes needed that while reading a separate chapter on Diablo’s experiments. Of all the three gods, he was the most concerned that his followers had lost their souls, which meant they generated no Faith. The prince hoped that, by studying the souls of mortals who fall down to the Inferno, he could figure out how to return what his adepts had lost.
The name Inferno came from Disgardium. The demons themselves at first continued to think of themselves as Andaran people, but newly arriving spirits insisted that they had fallen through the ground into Inferno, and the name stuck.
After resettling there, the demons tried to go back to their old peaceful lives, but their Chaos-corrupted nature demanded blood. There was nobody to fight, so the princes thought of a way to kill two birds with one stone: give the people what they wanted and strengthen the legions. The first steps in the conquering of chao were taken, and it became clear that through war, the Inferno could forge an army against which the New Gods would have no chance – after all, when a warrior died, he gave his chao to the winner, strengthening him, which meant that every death made the legions stronger. Like how fallen minions of the Destroying Plague strengthened those left standing.
And so the princes began the Great Game. They split the Inferno into three equal dominions as if cutting a cake into three pieces. Each day, the legions of two sides met in deadly combat, while the third rested. The winner gained a hundred ells of the losing dominion’s land, then fought again the next day. If the winner defeated the next opponent, it put its next legion forward – again against the second…
I heard snoring from the bench - old man Teland had fallen asleep. I closed the book and logged out of Dis. Tomorrow was going to be a very big day.
* * *
Blood pulsated in my temples, the back of my neck ached, my mouth was dry, and my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest, but on the whole I felt a lot better than I had after leaving the Nether. All the same, the signs of exhaustion were clear. That meant the capsule had put far more stress on my brain than usual, and maybe time flowed faster in the Inferno.
The interactive panel told me that my last game session had lasted four hours and twenty-three minutes, which had included my time on Kharinza, my training with Oyama, our search for Rion Staffa… and several hours in the Inferno!
Now it was clear what that warning meant, the one telling me I’d be playing in a subjective timestream – time went by faster in the Inferno. To calculate how much faster, I had to figure out how long ago I’d parted ways with the boys.
I nearly collapsed when I climbed out – my legs wobbled. But as soon as I walked out into the lounge, I started to feel better. Now I had to figure out how long I’d spent in hell.
Roj sat in the lounge in a seat facing the door of my bedroom and side-on to the exit, a tablet in his hand. The hologram display showed him the feeds from the CCTV cameras all over this floor and the roof.
“Alex,” he nodded. “How’s tricks?”
“Not bad. Have the boys logged out of Dis? Hung, Ed, Tomoshi?”
“Not yet. Hungry? Maria cooked, but it’s cold already. Want some heated up?”
“It’s alright, I’ll grab something, thanks. Have they picked up Tobias?”
“Sure have. Willy says they’re on their way to the base.”
“I need to contact Toby.”
Roj tapped his comm and Willy’s face came up.
“What’s up, Roj?” Willy was concentrating on controlling the flyer and not looking at the camera. “If it’s not urgent, I’ll call you back. Got two citizenship districts coming up, can’t risk scraping the borders.”
“Alex wants to talk to Tobias.”
“So talk, the kid’s here.”
“Hey, Alex!” Willy’s face disappeared and Asser’s tired one replaced it. “Did it work?”
“Hey! Yeah, I’m there. But having trouble figuring out the local time – I didn’t mark the time when I got there. How long ago did we split up?”
“Uh…” Tobias looked at his comm, frowned. “Around forty minutes ago. I logged out of Dis right away, Willy was already waiting for me. Hey, I’m worried about the party. You think I should shave my head?”
I wanted to tell him that a crew cut was better than shaving it, but didn’t have time to answer. There was a beep and the connection cut off.
“Someone started trying to track the line,” Roj explained. “Try again?”
“No need, I got what I wanted. Thanks.”
So time in the Inferno flowed roughly ten times faster, which meant… Damn, Nether! I had half an hour at the most to sort myself out and eat if I wanted to make it back before Teland woke up and go see the legion’s recruiter.
I wolfed down my food, took a shower and went back to the capsule. Still five or six hours left before the party for the newcomers to the base: Rita, Tobias and Tissa. And that meant I had two days in the Inferno.
With those thoughts, I went back to hell.
* * *
The torch had already gone out. It was pitch black in the tieflings’ house. My character was still sitting at the table over The Great Exodus.
I stared into the darkness for some time. Less than an hour passed, I think, before my Night Vision hit level 93. Another level might have come in handy in the Inferno, but Teland woke up. He grunted and groaned a while, tied on his false leg, then hobbled over to the hearth and spat something into it. It blazed back to life. Only then did Teland see me.
“Hakk?” he yawned in surprise. “Haven’t you slept?”
I shook my head:
“I’ve been reading. Good morning, dad!”
The tiefling froze, staring hard at me. His eyes gleamed in the darkness, reflecting the flame splashing in the hearth. I held his gaze. He chewed his lips, then said:
“Hakkar, we don’t wish each other good morning or good night. There’s no sun in the Inferno, which means there’s no time of day. Hah, for a moment there I thought you might not be you, but a mortal spirit in my son’s body!”
“Sorry, dad. My memory is all scrambled. But then, what should I say?”
He grunted, started coughing. I
pricked up my ears in alarm, but sighed with relief when I realized he was laughing:
“Wish me eternal coal, endless chao or a constellation upon my horn. People say all sorts of things, but in our family we usually mention chao. A demon might wish you fire beneath your enemy’s feet, for example. I’m sure it’ll all come back to you. Now eat!” He nodded to my bowl uncompromisingly. Its contents had covered over with a crust. “The recruiter has no doubt already arrived. We can’t miss selection…”
Teland and I were lucky enough to be one of the first to arrive. Soon, all the inhabitants were gathered in the square by the town gates.
They all spoke excitedly, and Teland explained the reason for the stir:
“Great Prince Belial takes the best sons and daughters of the Dominion’s settlements, but compensates them generously for it. For every white star on the horn of a new recruit, the recruiter gives the elder a hundred thousand particles of chao. For all the years until now, Shverk has kept it all to help his son, but today Kerass is going to the legion, which means the compensation will be shared among all!”
I looked across the crowd… At least two or three thousand townspeople. Demons filled the square. Children sat on tree branches and the roofs of nearby houses, some climbing up and sitting on the wall, swinging their legs. The adjoining three streets were full to bursting.
Soon the din subsided, and the only noise was the howl of the kolkars at the other end of town – those demonic hyenas with spines and two tails.
I didn’t quite see where the gigantic demon came from. He had powerful halberd horns and black wings behind his back that flapped evenly, holding his giant body thirty feet above the crowd.
“Clear a circle!” he rumbled.
Right beneath him, an unseen power pushed the crowd apart, freeing up a space roughly ten yards in diameter. Those hit by the pressure howled and jostled to get back.
Ignoring the turmoil, the demon spoke:
“Many stars to you, demons of the Nest! I am Prefect Sargatanas, recruiter of the Thirteenth Legion.”
“Glory to the Dominion!” the crowd roared, even those that had just been groaning in pain with broken ribs.
“I will be brief, since the Legion’s business will not wait. In the name of Great Prince Belial and Legatus Philotanus, I have the authority to take on new recruits. My legion requires soldiers!”
“For the Dominion!”
“Precisely! The requirements are simple: at least one white star and a will to fight! Any who qualify, step forward. Are there any such here?”
“Yes, sir!” came Kerass’s voice above the crowd.
Cuffing the other townsfolk aside as he went, the elder’s son emerged from the crowd and stood beneath Sargatanas. He thumped his chest, dropped down on one knee, bowed his head:
“Demon Kerass, one white star, Thirteenth Legion Prefect Sargatanas sir!”
“That is one,” the recruiter nodded. “Any more?”
“There are no more!” a bass voice rumbled from the back rows. “Take Kerass, Prefect, and give us the compensation! You have a lot to do, why drag it out?”
“Just… one?” Sargatanas asked with a grimace.
I absorbed a million particles of chao and a notification popped up:
Attention!
According to the hierarchy of the Inferno, the body you have imitated will change when you absorb a certain amount of chao.
Imitate positive effect?
Without thinking, I agreed. Another notification sprang up:
First white star earned!
+100% to all base stats!
With no idea what was happening to my body, I still felt the white star cut into my left horn and light up. I already felt pretty confident, but with my insanely high stats now doubled, I felt like superman! Hulk smash! My body trembled. My newfound chaotic power yearned for release!
In the meantime, the recruiter roared: “Tiefling Nest! You pathetic parasites who have nurtured only one suitable warrior in a year! You are useless to the Dominion! I ask for the last time! Is there nobody else?”
And then I raised my hand.
Sargatanas noticed at once and chuckled:
“There we are! Come here, tiefling!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Teland’s jaw drop as he stared at my horn.
“Give me your hand, dad!” I whispered. He obeyed, his mouth still open, and I handed him three million chao. “Save it!”
“You found more chao after all,” he whispered, stunned. “Good luck, son! Good luck, little Hakk!”
Those last words he said to my back. Pushing aside the stunned demons, I forced my way out into the circle.
“Present yourself!” the recruiter barked.
I dropped to one knee, saluted with my fist to my chest:
“Tiefling Hakkar, one white star, Thirteenth Legion Prefect Sargatanas!”
The recruiter rubbed his hands and smiled widely:
“Wonderful!
He landed between me and Kerass, who was staring daggers at me, embraced us both and pulled us in so tight that our ribs crunched. Pulling away, he touched our horns and chuckled:
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, Thirteenth Legion Prefect Sargatanas!” we answered in unison.
“Then may the selection begin! Glory to the Dominion!”
Chapter 15. Fresh Meat
IT WAS AS IF ALL THE TOWNSPEOPLE lost the gift of speech after I, or rather the tiefling Hakkar, decided to sign up. Everyone froze. Even those spiky hyena-like kolkars stopped howling and yelping, as if someone had put the world on pause. And then it sped back up with a gallop, a cry of astonishment rolling across the crowd.
I kept my cool, looked around. Some particularly sharp-elbowed devils had made their way to front row and were bleating in whispers. Unable to restrain the excitement, an imp jumped from foot to foot and screeched until he got a slap from a succubus. The children, if they could be called that, chattered joyfully – little implings, devilkids and incubi boys. One of them waved his arms so hard he fell out of his tree branch. Even the infernal towering in the crowd seemed to be shining brighter than usual.
It seemed as if the heavy shroud of the sky was also colored by the town’s surprise, turning livelier, friendlier. The spiky hyenas cackled ignorantly in the distance, but most of the noise came from people happy for the young tiefling – he represented a miracle and gave hope that anyone could get away from this pathetic excuse for an existence.
“I ask for the first and last time!” the recruiter said. “Demon Kerass! Tiefling Hakkar! If you wish to refuse selection, you may do so only now. Later, you will be recruits of the legion and must do all that I order. Your decision, Demon Kerass?”
“I do not refuse, Prefect Sargatanas! Glory to the Dominion!”
“Tiefling Hakkar?”
“No, I don’t refuse. Glory to the Dominion, Prefect Sargatanas!”
“Good.” The recruiter looked at the townspeople. “Relatives of Kerass and Hakkar! I give you one last chance. You have the right to veto the entry of these two boys! Speak now or remain silent until the selection ends!”
Both Teland and Elder Shverk, Kerass’s father, remained silent.
Then Sargatanas floated back, jabbed a claw into the air and drew a circle. The crowd that surrounded us was pushed back another couple of yards, causing a ripple of fresh groans and cries of pain.
It occurred to me that if the townspeople all attacked the demon at once, he’d still take down every last one of them. I looked Sargatanas up and down again.
The book said that all the demons had been orcs, elves and so on, then Chaos corrupted them and they interbred for a long time before the modern species emerged. One look at Sargatanas gave me the strong impression that his ancestors had been dwarves. The monumental demon was built like one, stocky and musclebound, with a fiery beard and mighty horns. At the same time, he was ten times the height of any dwarf.
Sargatanas, demon
Prefect of the Thirteenth Legion, Dominion of Belial
Orange stars: ★★★
Yellow stars: ✫✫✫✫✫✫✫
White stars: ✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩
Enemy of the Inferno (Disgardium Book #8): LitRPG Series Page 28