The enemy legion rippled, exploded in a cry of triumph.
“For the record, friends, we’re all in deep shit,” Rupert said, earning him a clout around the ear from Abducius.
The imp squeaked in protest, but a boom from our legatus drowned out his little voice:
“Second Instiga of Belial’s Thirteenth Legion! Ibitz’hor the demon!”
There was no point in watching further; even our first instiga, the strongest, had lost without a hope.
The second instiga Ibitz’hor, a demon with three orange stars, just managed to reach the infernal, but his pike bounced away and the demon was stunned. The infernal laughed, threw the spear aside. His hands formed into two hammers, which he brought together to meet in the middle of our demon’s head. Ibitz’hor flickered green, then disintegrated.
“Third Instiga of Belial’s Thirteenth Legion! Frith the devil!”
The third instiga emerged, shuffling along apparently in resignation, but as it turned out, that was a tactical trick. The infernal relaxed at the sight of him, but Frith wove his way around, feinting. At first his strategy worked and he even managed to deal some damage… But the enemy grew brighter, blurred – and the next moment, he was towering above the defeated devil. I rubbed my eyes – how? In a single instant, Frith had gone from full health to disincarnation. I didn’t even see how exactly the infernal struck.
The foe exulted. Someone behind me whistled piercingly. Others took it up and I had to press my hands over my ears. Then the whistle cut off – I felt a heavy gaze on the back of my neck, threw my head back and watched, this time through the eyes of an observer, as the fabric of spacetime tore to bring forth a protodemon: at first the sky seemed to harden, then cracks spread across it, widening with a sound of tearing silk that seemed to make my brain itch on the inside. The edges of the rift unfolded like the petals of an opening flower, pushing out something fast and amorphous.
Seerakaarbasverdielet, Wave 3 Protodemon
Emissary of Chaos.
Something clicked – the protodemon I’d killed was fifth-wave, this one – third. This Seerakaarbasverdielet must be stronger than Djubbuk… Whatever the first one was called. Not important, the point is: the lower the wave number, the stronger the protodemon.
It hovered above the battlefield, changing shape like a glitching hologram: it grew tentacles, transformed them into insect legs, then those became hands with many fingers and a fan of claws. Noses turned into beaks, beaks into open maws of teeth.
The Emissary of Chaos burst and regrew a hundred eyes one after another, clinging and… dangerous. Something sticky touched my heart, scratched at my brain, stuck slimy tentacles down my throat. It was like I was being studied, but I knew that the beast wasn’t of this world, knew that each of the protodemon’s eyes could fire out something so acrid that it would atomize all it touched like antimatter.
“Belial’s member impale me!” Lerra muttered in fright and excitement, nervously waving her tail. “It’s huge!”
“That instiga’s done for,” Abdu the demon muttered. “That protodemon could swallow up both legions! At least that’s some justice. It’ll take vengeance for our boys!”
“That’s it, show’s over,” Rupert quipped. He was shaking, but trying desperately to seem cooler than he was.
“Nah,” Motif the demon argued. “The main clown is still in the ring! You’ll see, he…”
The protodemon’s shriek drowned out his words. Even my blood froze in my veins.
The infernal span on his own axis, shining brighter and brighter, his spear at the ready. I remembered that protodemons can speed up, and wasn’t surprised when it blinked to its foe, but then the infernal sped up too, blurring and moving to the side, then counterattacking with the spear. The Emissary of Chaos was slowed down – it tumbled in flight and crashed to the ground, breaking all three pairs of wings. The infernal got hit too; smoldering emerald blood leaked from his torn side.
When the protodemon and infernal clashed again, I called over my squad, said:
“Alright, listen up. The legion has no chance, we don’t need an oracle to tell us that, so our only hope is…”
“Capturing their Wager?” Lerra guessed. “Like back in the trial?”
“Exactly. If the Legion has a plan to capture the Wager already, then they didn’t share it with us fresh meat. So I came up with my own. Hopefully I’m fast enough to get away, otherwise…”
“You’re screwed,” Abducius nodded. “You’ll get wiped out with one hit.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged uncertainly. “As soon as the battle starts, we head to the right. It’ll be easier to get through there. Don’t engage…”
My fighters listened to the plan. Abdu and Lerra added a couple of useful corrections, giving me more information on the enemy’s capabilities. Their comments made it clear that I’d have to make maximum use of Clarity.
The main problem was that I couldn’t leave my platoon, or abandon it to the mercy of the enemy. What commander would do that? Losing troops wouldn’t change my initial plan – to get the Coals of Hellflame, – but inside, something objected to the thought; either my newly attained nature was standing up for the demons, or just my new character. I didn’t want to abandon my own, and these twelve fanged, horned and tailed creatures were now as much my own as anyone else.
“Aiaiai!” Azmodan’s legion trilled in fury.
Looking over the battlefield, I saw that their instiga had defeated the protodemon and almost reached his first red star – twelve orange stars! Uh-oh. Our legion was going to have a tough time against an enemy strengthened with Chaotic Frenzy.
A horn sounded, the earth shook from the steps of thousands of hooves.
“Join hands,” I commanded, before we were pushed ahead to meet the enemy.
My entire platoon linked arms. Lerra held on to me on one side, Abducius on the other, then Karakapanka held on to him. The rakshasa used all his upper limbs, grabbing our two weakling instigas, Rupert the imp and the skinny demon Motif, along with the two devils, who held on to the infernal. On Lerra’s other side was the ashmaker, who held on to a demon. The final two demons of the platoon had disappeared somewhere. Maybe pushed away to another zone.
“Come on, to the Wager!” I shouted, pushing between the bodies.
The platoon broke through after me. Our entire cohort, spurred on by the legatus at the edge, was behaving crazily; the decani couldn’t handle the panic, and we had to force our way through, kicking aside terrified recruits and handing out bruises.
Clustering together and bristling with weaponry, we started fighting our way to the right flank. The image that unfolded before us was apocalyptic – battle raged all around. Two winged demons clashed above us. Ours was injured, his right arm hanging limp, his left holding a sword, but he wasn’t giving up.
A satyr fell at my feet, his skull crushed. The enemy demon above us cast a glance across us as if looking at bugs. Nine yellow stars gleamed on his horn, and he was the height of a two-story building.
He tried to crush us in passing, but we scampered in different directions. I sped up, hit him in the knee with Hammerfist, crushing a bony plate of armor. I emerged from Clarity and watched as the demon fell, his arms waving and the wings at his back breaking. Without letting him recover, I cracked open his chest and fired a Combo off at the wound. I fell into a frenzy, hammering at the already expiring demon until he disincarnated.
Just over fifteen million chao drew into my inventory. I had another twelve saved for a rainy day… And this looked rainy enough.
Righteous anger within me demanded an exit, burned me from the inside, narrowed my vision…
Stop! Calm down! This was it – the influence of Chaos. An animal fury, a thirst for blood and a desire to rip into the enemy with my teeth. But I needed a cool head. Breathing in and out slowly, I went back into Clarity so I could climb up high and look around. From above, I could see the enemy forcing our legion back, disincarnating our strongest sold
iers one after another. A little more and Belial’s Thirteenth Legion would be destroyed, and even I wouldn’t be able to stand up alone against that mass of demons. Good luck getting back to the Inferno after resurrecting on Kharinza… No, I had to absorb the chao.
Twelfth white star earned!
+5% to all base stats!
Thirteenth white star earned!
Your thirteen white stars have transformed into a yellow star! Your chao grows, Hakkar!
First yellow star earned!
+200% to all base stats!
Then came another thirteen new white stars, each giving 5% to stats, then transforming into a yellow star:
Second yellow star earned!
+10% to all base stats!
So the bonus from yellow stars was twice that of white. Not far to a third: another twelve notifications about new white stars popped up, which gave me another 60% in total to my main stats. The changes to my tiefling form took longer than before, and it was a good thing I was sped up, because for those moments I had no control of my body.
When the metamorphosis ended, I stretched my neck left and right, cracked my knuckles – time to try out this new power…
I went back to where I was standing before I went into Clarity, sped the world back up and imitated a leap upwards, striking the back of an enemy demon who had almost defeated one of ours in mid-air – somersaulting, he fell down onto the fighters below.
I dove down, shouted a command at my platoon, who were standing back to back and not daring to move:
“Break through to the Wager! Stay close!”
The tiefling’s voice sounded harsher than before. My imitated body was as tall as Abducius now, and its shoulders were broader, its horns longer.
“How?” Lerra asked, pointing wide-eyed at my horns.
“Got lucky, finished off a nearly dead yellow-star…” I answered, then checked myself: “Enough talk! Follow me!”
I trotted away and my squad lumbered after me – the yellow stars clearly made an impression and inspired my soldiers.
Luckily, even when the enemy showed up nearby, they considered my squad unworthy of their attention. They focused on cutting down the strongest of Belial’s fighters first and foremost, trying to crush us only in passing, so when we ran in different directions, they didn’t waste time chasing us and searched for meatier targets instead.
The battle shifted to our Wager, and we spotted the enemy’s – a flag fluttering atop a hill next to a black crystal, no doubt the container for the chao reward.
Fighting raged there too. I mentally clapped for the ones trying to capture the enemy Wager; they’d chosen a promising strategy. The assault squad consisted of tank demons who took most of the heat, air support (winged demons and riders on Hell Wyverns), and nimble satyrs.
But the enemy didn’t back down; they mounted a decent defense, showering the winged assaulters with a hail of arrows. The sky lit up with the burning payloads of catapults, leaving smoke trails behind them. One crashed into a wyvern, who careered to the ground, digging a furrow in the earth and killing a succubus rider. Dust and debris rained down on us.
The platoon stopped uncertainly, and Rupert and Motif fell down prone, trying to melt into the earth.
“Don’t stop!” I shouted, pulling up the cowardly instigas by the collars and throwing them forward. “Anyone left behind can say goodbye to their chao. I’ll try to cover the rest! Follow me!”
The threat worked. We carried on, and when the unit reached a heap of stones, I ordered them to stack up behind it and not stick their noses out.
“Be careful, Decanus,” Karakapanka the rakshasa advised. “There are serious fighters there, they aren’t like us fresh meat.”
I wanted to remind him that three days ago he had called me a ‘lousy stinking tiefling,’ clearly underestimating me, as he was now, but that kind of confidence would have looked strange. Anyway, there was concern in his voice.
“I’ll be careful,” I said.
Leaving the squad, I ran, and after gaining some distance, went into Clarity – dove, ran ahead – and dove again, imitating Blinks.
I reached the barricade around the Wager, jumped over it. A marilith archer spotted me, whipping her anaconda tail and waving her six arms. Behind me I heard:
“…you do stink!” An arrow flew by my ear.
“Where is he?” someone said, but I was already elsewhere.
Making it look like I was Blinking, I slipped between the legs of a huge demon with a crossbow and couldn’t resist taking him out with two hits.
I kept having to go into Clarity to dodge shells, arrows, blades, spears, hooves and deadly tails. The world paused, then galloped ahead, the sound stopped, then crashed down in a rumble and roar.
The strongest demons of Azmodan’s Sixth Legion, including Legatus Agvares, surrounded the stone structure housing the invitingly glimmering flag. The base of the flagpole was encrusted with the crystal of the Wager. I didn’t count the defenders or their stars, but one look was enough to see that each was as big as Despot.
Six rakshasas stood next to the Wager. They held crossbows the size of ballistae in their upper set of arms, swords in the lower. They stood so close together that there was no way to get through but jumping over them. If it weren’t for my extra speed, they would have quickly detected me and I would have had to fight. As it was, I preferred not to waste time; every second meant the death of one of my comrades.
Going into Stealth and diving out of Clarity for a moment, I jumped, lifting myself with Flight, then sped up again. Before I landed, I slid out of Clarity and grabbed the flagpole…
“Eyes on the prize, blockheads!” the marilith screeched, slithering toward the rakshasas.
Apparently, the six-armed snakewoman had been watching me the whole time, keeping me in her sights. Her sinuous serpentine body was around thirty yards long. Azmodan’s troops turned their heads as one, saw me. By then I’d pulled out the flagpole and got the notification that I couldn’t use my abilities.
I found a solution fast. I threw away the flag, sped up, activated Combo to clear myself a path. The orange-star demons were thrown aside, but not killed. After cutting a path, I picked up the standard again and ran, stabbing side to side with the flagpole. It was longer than me and I used it like a spear.
The voice of Legatus Philotanus carried across the gorge, announcing that the Wager was captured. Only then did our assault team finally spot me.
A devil on a wyvern dove down, grabbed me and sat me down behind him. His partners threw bombs at the Wager’s defenders, then covered us from the sides.
We rushed toward our base, harried by the fearsome shrieks of wyverns, but didn’t get far – an overwhelming enemy aerial force crossed our path, came shooting toward us.
“Take the flag,” I shouted into the devil’s ear.
After handing over the skill-blocking flag, I sped up and jumped from the winged snake at the closest enemy. I couldn’t spend all my time in Clarity without inviting suspicion and questions, so I periodically showed myself.
After taking out the pursuers, I noticed that some crossbowmen had taken down the devil on the wyvern. The wyvern itself, pierced through with a dozen huge arrows, rolled its eyes madly and twitched on the ground. The devil rider crawled, still with a fierce grip on the standard, dragging his legs along, but was on his last breath. Azmodan’s troops surrounded him.
And another wave of fury washed over me. The rage was so strong that I cried out and, coming out of Clarity again, rushed toward the flagbearer surrounded by unfinished enemies, but not in time to help the devil: a hail of swords, sabers and axes sliced down on him. I crashed into the crowd, attacked one demon, then a second. When I hit a third with Hammerfist, I realized he was the last – all the other enemies had fallen to Maiming Wave, my passive ability that projected damage to nearby opponents.
The amount of chao I absorbed was through the roof. I only just went into Clarity in time to speed up the level-up
process. Now a fourth yellow star blazed on my left horn.
Scooping up the Wager flag, I ran as fast as I could for the base – not directly, but through the spot where I’d left my platoon. Either they were just hiding well, or one of them used a skill to camouflage the group. I only spotted them by Karakapanka’s twitching tail.
I drew level with them, commanded:
“Follow me!”
The way back happened in flashes. The fighters fell behind, but fiercely covered my retreat with their bodies. Swearing, I went back, threw the flag to my platoon, switched to defending them. Cut in half, our mighty ashmaker collapsed into dust on the battlefield. Our infernal went down next. Rupert the imp was trampled, the second instiga, Motif the demon, lost his head, and Karakapanka the rakshasa was burnt to a crisp…
Enemy of the Inferno (Disgardium Book #8): LitRPG Series Page 34