My fists itched to test themselves against a demon of such power, but common sense won out – why bother? With luck, tomorrow I’d be fighting for Belial’s Dominion against Diablo, Lucius and Azmodan.
“May the selection commence!” the recruiter declared. “Glory to the Dominion! Glory to the Thirteenth Legion!”
“The worst legion in the Dominion,” someone in the back row crowed. A devil, judging by the bleating voice.
Dead silence descended. I mentally said goodbye to the daring devil, but, against all expectations, the recruiter didn’t take it as an insult.
“The last in score, but not the worst,” Sargatanas argued. “There have been times when our legion rightfully carried the title of first!”
“A thousand years ago?” an imp from the first row cackled. “Wooow…”
“Quiet!” Sargatanas barked. “The strong legions do not send recruiters to this shithole! Be thankful that at least the Thirteenth still remembers you! Otherwise you’d rot away in solitude! Now not another sound during selection!”
He raised a hand and slowly ran it through the air, turning all the way around. A red cage flashed up around us, each cell in its walls a hexagon. It grew, twisted, formed a dome above our heads. Why had the recruiter created it? To protect the crowd? Or to keep us from escaping?
As if reading my thoughts, Kerass cast an appraising glance at me:
“Looks like we’re fighting a beast, Hakkar. That means now is the time to forget any grudges and fight shoulder to shoulder. You get what I’m saying?”
“Kind of.”
“We won’t survive unless we stick together…”
Sargatanas returned, barked:
“Do not listen to him, tiefling. He will stab you in the back, and rightfully. Naive and trusting fools have no place in the legion!”
I nodded. The recruiter chuckled and addressed both of us. He spoke quietly; the crowd froze and pricked up its ears to hear better.
“In ordinary circumstances, I perform a more thorough selection process,” he murmured. “But that requires at least four candidates.”
“What’s he saying?” I heard from the back rows.
The same devil that dropped the unflattering comment about the Thirteenth Legion piped up again, relaying Sargatanas’ speech back to those who didn’t hear it, and then the recruiter took off into the air and growled:
“Shut up! You pathetic demons, you mildew on the land of the Dominion! You barely scraped together two single-star weaklings, and now you dare interrupt me and disturb the selection process! You!” he pointed a finger at the misbehaving devil. “You brought this on yourself! I warned you!”
The devil who had earned the recruiter’s attention crouched down, pulled his head into his shoulders and tried to hide in the crowd, pushing his way backwards. It didn’t help – Sargatanas crooked a finger and the troublemaker flew out of the crowd as if magnetized. The devil’s legs bent, his hooves dragging on the dusty ground. He span his head in search of protection.
“Have mercy! I’ll be quiet!” he bleated. “All my life I’ll be… Ahh-hh-hhhh!”
An unseen power raised the devil above us, twisted him like a ram’s horn and tied him into a knot. The agonized bleating cut off in a spatter of blood and a crunch of bones. Kerass and I were covered from head to toe. The elder’s son licked his lips and snarled, absorbing the fallen specks of chao.
Sargatanas didn’t bat an eyelid, just continued talking, this time emotionless and even a little tired, as if the ritual bored him. Maybe it did; the demon might have performed it a hundred thousand times before.
“Today, the selection is simple. I will summon an imprisoned fighting beast from one of Prince Azmodan’s legions. Considering the pathetic weakness of our fresh meat, the opponent will be matched to their strength. There are no one-star beasts in the legions, so tiefling Hakkar and demon Kerass will fight an ordinary ass with three white stars, used in Azmodan’s army as a beast of burden. Recruits, the rules are: the selection ends when there is only one demon left alive of the three of you, including the ass. You can use any weapons or chaotic abilities you have. May the selection commence!”
A flickering crimson rift sprang up in the center of the circle and a ‘common ass’ fell out of it, braying. The creature could have terrified even Flaygray and Nega in a nightmare. Sargatanas himself, after summoning the creature, flew up above the dome. The crowd instinctively moved a couple of steps back from the protective cage. A two-handed sword materialized at Kerass’s back, and he drew it, holding it before him and taking a defensive stance.
I stayed where I was. I knew I had to be careful. Very careful. What did I know about tieflings? The race was unavailable to players, and I couldn’t remember ever seeing a tiefling in Dis, but from what I knew, they were skilled spellcasters, not fighters. If there were tieflings in the legions of the Inferno, then I’d have to watch them closely and figure out how to act like one. But right now, I had to improvise; I didn’t even have any weapons.
The hellish ass was half again the size of an ordinary one, and was covered all over in a segmented gray shell. Thick smoke belched from the chinks in its armor. The monster’s eyes were anthracite-black, with no pupils, and its crocodile mouth could have snapped my tiefling body in half.
Chaotic Ass, Tier 5 Demonic Beast
Battle Beast of the Eighth Legion, Dominion of Azmodan (imprisoned by Sargatanas)
White stars: ✩✩✩
“Go on, Kerass!” said a voice ringing loud above the heads of the crowd. I glanced to the side and saw a mighty demon, his face crisscrossed with scars: Elder Shverk. “Kill it, son!”
“Kerass! Kerass!” the crowd chanted.
The ass seemed disoriented, shook its head. In Kerass’s place I would have already taken advantage and attacked. I didn’t know what he was waiting for, still in his defensive stance.
Sticking to the legend of the magical abilities of tieflings, I stepped back, trying to keep out of sight of the hellish beast. Kerass noticed my movement, took a barely noticeable step backwards himself. The demon’s grip on his sword was so tight that his knuckles were white. And… his hands were shaking! What, was he scared?
“Fight, Kerass!” Shverk shouted, displeased with his son’s behavior. “Do not dishonor me!”
Roaring, Kerass charged at the donkey, swinging his sword as he went. The beast backed off, crouched down and…
The ass fundamentally changed my perceptions of my fellow demons – an instant before Kerass’s strike, the creature transformed: the front became the back and the back became the front! Pressing down on its front hooves, it clenched its back legs and then kicked out sharply, smashing into the demon’s chest! Crunch! Kerass gasped mutely, widened his eyes and flew back-first into the wall of the cage. Grunting, he slid to the ground and went limp. The sword fell from his hands. His health was in the red.
An ordinary ass might have stopped there, but this one roared and ran for the demon, inclined to finish him off.
“Prefect Sargatanas!” Shverk howled. “Stop the selection! Tiefling! Coward! Don’t just stand there! Fight! Distract the ass!”
The elder stalked the edge of the cage, but the recruiter ignored his shrieks. Meanwhile, I kept up my act of weak tiefling newly bestowed with his first star, and that by accident.
Kerass tried to stand, but the ass closed his crocodile mouth around his neck. The demon croaked and stamped his hooves. His life drained away along with a stream of blood from his neck: 11%… 10%… 9%… Pressing Kerass down with a hoof, the creature bit still deeper, growling and tearing off scraps of flesh.
“Hakkar, I beg you!” The elder had already run around the circle and now stood right before me. “Save Kerass! Distract the ass!” Then he roared with all his might at Sargatanas: “Stop the selection! My son refuses to serve in the Legion! I use my veto!”
“Too late, Shverk,” the recruiter answered indifferently. “You have lost your right to veto.”
&n
bsp; 6%… 5%… The donkey bit off half of Kerass’s face.
The Inferno with these guys, I was going to do something. I ran for the donkey, grabbed its spiky tail tipped with a heavy club and pulled as gently as I could while making a face as if strained to my limit.
“Hhhrraa! Hhhhraaa!” the hellish donkey bleated, trying in vain to reach the sweet flesh now just out of its grasp.
Its demonic screams sounded furious. Pulling the donkey a few feet away from Kerass, I rushed forward and put myself between them. Going into Clarity for an instant, I picked up Kerass’s dropped sword, pointed it at the creature’s fire-breathing mouth and sped the world back up.
“Hhhrrr…” the ass choked as the blade sheathed itself in its throat.
“Oh, way to go, handsome Hakk!” a woman’s voice rang out.
The hellbeast kept striving toward the fresh meat, but only sank down deeper onto the blade. My Two-handed Swords skill was as low as can be, but my base damage was high enough that it didn’t matter. The creature’s legs bent and it fell down dead. The flesh collapsed into ash, which dispersed and floated away into the aether.
Chao particles: +94,725.
Glancing back, I assessed Kerass’s condition. The demon was on his last breath. Several debuffs at once, such as Profuse Bleeding and Chao Leak, were finishing off the elder’s son.
“Finish him, recruit Hakkar!” Sargatanas ordered. “For the glory of the Dominion!”
Casting a glance at Shverk’s stony face, I swung the sword down and took off Kerass’s head. That same second, the defensive cage disappeared and the recruiter descended toward me.
The crowd rumbled and I heard cries of triumph. Kerass had slighted the townsfolk, and it was clear they were no fans of his.
“Pick up the loser’s chao, little one,” the recruiter rumbled.
A little over fifty thousand particles went into my inventory. It seemed the proportion of chao that dropped as loot was higher for NPCs than for ordinary mobs, but less than for rares. After the four million I’d spent – some absorbed, some given to Teland, – I had around twelve million left.
At that moment, Hakkar’s father ran out of the crowd toward me. He beamed, as did the fresh star on his horn – he must have absorbed a million and kept the rest.
Teland reached me and embraced me tightly, saying nothing. Only then did I realize that his false leg was gone. Teland had two legs again!
“Your leg..?” I whispered. “But how?”
“I hope your memory comes back, Hakk,” he muttered in disappointment. “Each new star completely heals a demon! But… I’m so proud of you, son!” He stroked my back and I felt his tears on my neck. “Your brothers would be so proud of you! And mom!”
Sargatanas, who had been watching tactfully, butted in:
“You have raised an excellent fighter, tiefling!” The recruiter clapped Teland on the shoulder, nearly sending him to the ground, then turned to the crowd: “Denizens of the Nest! For the first time in all my visits to this pit, I have not come in vain. This little tiefling,” he pointed at me, “has demonstrated excellent restraint, speed and tactical skill. Tieflings rarely make good soldiers, but when they do, they are just like this one! Quick, agile, cunning and treacherous! Did you see how he used the dumb beast’s own inertia against it, using lightning swiftness to take up the sword uselessly dropped by the failure Kerass? That is the courage and bravery of a soldier!”
He approached the elder, who didn’t know where to turn in shame. The grief of losing his son, disgraced in front of the whole town… I wouldn’t have wanted to be in Shverk’s shoes.
The old demon stood with his back straight, staring hatefully at the spot where his son had disincarnated. Sargatanas handed him something, probably the compensation that was mentioned, then turned back to me.
“Enough farewells, tieflings. The legion’s business will not wait! I must perform another selection at the other end of the Dominion, and in the meantime, deliver Hakkar to the new recruit zone.”
Teland grabbed me in a hug again and whispered that he was proud of me, interspersed with tips on how to behave in the legion. Pulling back, I looked him in the eye and said:
“I’ll handle it, dad. But you be careful. Look after… you know what.”
Teland nodded, wiped away a tear.
“Is Shverk going to give you trouble?” I nodded toward the elder.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. The parents of those who serve the glory of the Dominion have a special place in the town. Shverk won’t be able to so much as look at me askance now.”
“Recruit Hakkar!” Sargatanas barked. I stood to attention. “Follow me!” Teland stroked the back of my head and walked away.
The recruiter quickly drew a flaming pentagram in the air, and while it burned, he placed one hand on my shoulder and touched the symbol with the other. The world distorted, disappeared and reappeared anew.
* * *
The town and its denizens were gone. The recruiter and I stood on a hill, and beneath us stretched rows and rows of strange low structures like brown tents with sloping roofs.
Sargatanas pointed to a building with a sharp-peaked red roof. It towered over the others.
“Go there and report your arrival to Prefect Nisrok. He commands the Legion’s Thirteenth Cohort. Do you know what we call the Thirteenth Cohort?”
“Uhm… No, Prefect Sargatanas!”
“Fresh meat. It’s the new recruits’ cohort. What are you standing there for? Move out!”
The order was given in such a tone that my legs started taking me down the hill of their own accord.
“Welcome to the Thirteenth Legion, tiefling Hakkar!” he said as I went. “Welcome to the furnace!”
I was already in the Inferno, but what was happening around me really was like a furnace squared. I hadn’t seen so much disorder and bustle even at the Kinema Bazaar – this was far from military discipline. Beasts roared and howled, demons careered chaotically to and fro, swearing. Nobody walked, everyone ran!
I unwillingly broke into a light trot and moved on, soon finding the building I needed. But I found no Prefect Nisrok in the building Sargatanas had pointed out. Two devils with six yellow stars each barred my entry, told me that fresh meat had no business there and to get lost. I could have swept them aside with ease, but there was no sense in starting my service with conflict. I doubted even the Sleeper knew how far it was from here to the Ruby City.
Apart from devils, imps and demons, in my search for Prefect Nisrok I saw the legion’s succubi and satyrs, infernals and incubi, many-armed rakshasas and snakelike mariliths. I spotted a couple of ashmakers that looked like ordinary demons, but burned with green fire.
No wonder they looked at me like an idiot when I asked where to find Prefect Nisrok. It didn’t help that tieflings weren’t held in the highest esteem here, to put it mildly. Hakkar smelled of ‘dead rotting flesh’ – rotten eggs. I didn’t smell it on myself, but maybe my full imitation didn’t get rid of it, just altered my tiefling senses so that I perceived the smell as ordinary. But the noses and snouts of the other demons twisted as soon as I showed up.
I was ignored or pushed away. Nobody wanted to listen to me, and more than one demon tried to send me on my way with a kick in the ass. I dodged the strikes, trying determinedly to find out where that damn Nisrok was, but persistence didn’t help – an enraged rakshasa struck me with four fists at once. There was no way I could turn off Resilience and Reflection, so the rakshasa flew back and howled. Imitation masked it as a Dirty Dodge, a supposed tiefling ability.
The rakshasa’s friends laughed. “Hey, the little one can stand up for himself!”
The creature turned his angry eyes on me and rose to his feet, holding his chest and jaw at the same time.
He pointed at me with a third arm. “Tiefling Hakkar, I will remember you!”
“I doubt that’ll help you, Karakapanka,” said a broad-shouldered succubus standing in the group. “You may remember hi
m, but you won’t survive today’s challenges if one hit from that little guy can fold you up!”
The demons began to floridly discuss the rakshasa’s shame, and I got the impression from their words that these were new recruits. Some had arrived yesterday, some today, but they were all waiting for some kind of challenge.
The succubus was called Lerra. She wore a chainmail skirt and nothing else. My eyes widened and I felt my ears getting hot. She approached and tapped my head with the tip of her tail:
“Are you lost, stinking tiefling? What’re you doing here?”
A new recruit, like me? But she had a whole four white stars. I kept playing the greenhorn, standing to attention and reporting:
“Recruit Lerra! I am recruit Hakkar. I just arrived after passing selection under Prefect Sargatanas! I’m looking for Prefect Nisrok!”
Enemy of the Inferno (Disgardium Book #8): LitRPG Series Page 29