Enemy of the Inferno (Disgardium Book #8): LitRPG Series

by Dan Sugralinov

  “It wasn’t hard,” I smiled, watching the high-ranking demons swarming around the spire. “What’s happening up there?”

  “Probably a drill. The Prince testing the rubites,” Lerra suggested.

  “Rubites?”

  “Yeah, that’s we call the people who live here.”

  But that alarm wasn’t a drill. It was real as they come! I wanted to hurry and move on. What if there were checks, investigations, or whatever the demonic equivalent was? Anything could happen.

  I turned to Abdu:

  “You said there’s somewhere to eat and drink around here…”

  “That way,” the demon waved to the left.

  Lerra rubbed her hands together and danced on the spot:

  “Great, that takes us down the parkway! I always wanted to see Belial’s Park with my own eyes!”

  Chapter 21. The Cursed Inquisition

  THE GREAT PRINCE’S PARK surprised me. It was as if from another reality: ornately shaped stone statues emitting green, blue or white shimmering light. Lava fountains that spat out sparkling foam before they erupted, a mix of children from the various demonic races frolicking in it, and a young doomtank around the size of Abdu from whom the other children ran, not recognizing him as their own.

  “Hail!” shouted an unfamiliar bald and powerful demon with three orange stars. He was barechested and digging around in his teeth with a six-foot blade. “Hey, runts, what’s your legion?! Name yourselves!”

  “Thirteenth Legion, Thirteenth Cohort!” we answered in unison.

  “Oh, fresh meat! I heard you have some fighter who stole Azmodan’s Wager right out from under the enemy’s nose and carried it all the way home! Is that true?”

  “He’s right here!” Lerra squeaked joyfully, pushing me toward the huge musclehead. “Tiefling Hakkar! The fastest instiga in the whole Inferno!”

  “Glory to the Dominion!” the bald demon grinned. “Come here, kid, I wanna kiss ya! I thought there weren’t no more good soldiers since I left the service!”

  I walked hesitatingly toward the mountain of muscles crisscrossed with scars. The demon sheathed the sword behind his back, belched flames and embraced me. Had the real Hakkar been in my place, the demon would have crushed him. I just made my peace and waited for the veteran to vent his feelings and finish kissing my forehead. He slobbered all over my face!

  “Strong, brother, strong!” He touched my shoulders with respect, felt my muscles. “Solid, even if you are a stinkling!”

  “Hey!” Abdu bristled behind me. “Watch your tongue, mister!”

  “Simmer down. So what if he stinks? I remember I had one buddy whose hooves smelled even worse, and we still served a hundred years together. His bed was next to mine in the barracks!” He took my head in his calloused hands, looked into my eyes and asked: “What’s your name and rank, little guy?”

  “Hakkar, Decanus in the Thirteenth Cohort of the Thirteenth Legion!”

  “Let me tell you something, Decanus Hakkar. I’d give half my chao to watch what you did with my own eyes! Ain’t the same when you watch it on the chaovision, you know… But you know what? Centurion of the Ninth Cohort of the First Legion Za’Vedevu has connections even in Belial’s palace, and some of my friends still serve for the Dominion’s glory. I’ll put in a good word so they don’t give you a hard time, because you know… Nobody likes tieflings around here, they think you guys are dirty… That’s wrong! If your kind are all like you, then I… I…”

  Za’Vedevu the demon released his hands, finding no more words.

  “Farewell,” he murmured quietly and headed for the fountain.

  Shrugging, we moved on. We passed a lava lake, startling a pack of bone lizards splashing in the magma, their scarlet-eyed faces sticking out.

  “This is amazing, guys,” I said. The park was far closer to what I’d imagined the Inferno to be like.

  “Sure is!” Abducius answered, as if he’d built it himself.

  I stopped by an overturned helmet standing on a pedestal with black arms stretching out of it.

  “That’s the memorial to mortal sin,” Lerra explained and whispered in rapture: “May the font of impurity in mortal souls never run dry!”

  Passing through the park, we skirted some skyscrapers and headed for the tavern Abdu had mentioned.

  Behind an unassuming door was a long, dirty corridor, and beyond that – a room akin to an orc tavern on Shak, all in brown-green tones, stylized as wood, the ceiling painted a venomous blue with a black sun at its center, symbolizing Marduk the Sombre. On the walls were mounted monstrous beasts distantly reminiscent of elves, humans, orcs, trolls, gnomes, hobbits, a minotaur and two centaurs. Almost all the tables were taken.

  “Here we are, The Limping Maralith. Horrifying, ain’t it?” Abdu smiled in satisfaction. “They say Disgardium has taverns just like this!”

  “Yeah,” I nodded happily. “Probably, anyway. Who knows, nobody’s been there.”

  “The familiars of the mortal warlocks have, I’ve heard their tales. One of them opened this tavern!”

  Nervously twitching her tail, Lerra looked around and said:

  “Kinda gross. Makes you wonder why we wanna go there. Disgardium can keep this stuff. Things are just fine here in the Inferno.”

  “Only the worst lowlifes come here!” Abdu bragged, advancing on one of the few free tables in a corner and laughing. “Like us!”

  We took our seats. Lerra picked up the sparse menu on the table and read aloud:

  “Man Liver Tartare… Elf Eyes Marinaded in Lava Vinegar… Dried Hobbit Leg… What’s all this? Where do they get the meat?”

  “They’re just names,” Abdu said in disappointment. “It’s actually just ordinary hellboar and pitbeef.”

  “Alright, that’s one thing,” the succubus chuckled. “But the prices?! They made me want to marinade my eyes!”

  “Well, we didn’t come here to eat!” the demon shrugged. “We’ll sit like rich dark demons and drink some nice booze. We’ll get some snacks too… What’ll you have, Decanus?”

  “I trust your tastes, Abdu,” I said. “Order me whatever you get.”

  “Fine, same for me,” Lerra grimaced.

  “Now this is tasty!” Abducius jabbed a finger at the menu. “Loose-Lipped Goblin Tongue! In a spicy sauce. As for drink, I recommend Sacrificial Youngling Blood.” He raised a hand. “Hey, waitress!”

  A young succubus appeared at our table, wearing a mask that was meant to be an elf: a nose like Pinocchio’s, sharp ears and a hood. Abdu relayed our order, and I asked:

  “When we left, there was a crowd of strong demons around Belial’s residence. Did someone attack him? Who would want to do that? Doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Sure doesn’t,” the demon nodded. “Nobody in the Inferno can ever get into the Prince’s residence without an invitation. I heard they take tours round the first floor, but…”

  “Hold on!” I butted in. “You mean it’s possible to get into the residence itself? On a tour?”

  “Sure,” Lerra said. “Tourists come from all over the Dominion, and from the others too. But we don’t have that kind of money!” She stroked my arm sympathetically. “I’ve seen adverts – two hundred gold per demon! A pleasure for the rich.”

  I whistled, thinking of how to get two hundred gold, but Abdu suggested an alternative:

  “We can go for free, and get higher up,” the demon whispered excitedly. “We can…”

  He cut off while the waitress served our snacks, along with a pitcher of red liquid and some mugs that looked like they could hold three pints.

  After waiting for her to go, Lerra picked up where Abdu left off:

  “Don’t worry, Hakkar, a cart full of gifts from cursed Kh’Raus will crash on our street any day now! We’ll make the money and go on a tour!”

  “Wait, I think Abdu wanted to suggest something else.”

  I looked at the demon sitting there biting his lips. He burst out:

  “
Yes, I did! But don’t laugh!”

  “Come on, spit it out!” the succubus demanded.

  The demon poured the smoking liquor into our mugs, frowned, then threatened:

  “If either of you laugh, I won’t drink with you again! Here’s the thought: the Great Prince pays attention to the martial accomplishments of the legions, to their outstanding fighters. Remember when the First Legion got three victories in a row? The Prince invited all the centurions to the tower and gave them each a billion chao from his personal supplies.”

  “What are you trying to say, fool?” Lerra asked laughingly. “Our legion, which was already the worst, has just lost two thirds of its troops. Once we recruit more, most of the legion will be fresh meat! ‘Three victories in a row,’ come on. Get real!”

  “I believe in Hakkar!” the demon said stubbornly. “Why the orc not? Our decanus is a tiefling with surprises. Even a tricksy elf couldn’t get the better of him!”

  “He’s gone mad,” Lerra complained to me, although I saw laughter in her eyes. “Hades knows why I got mixed up with you two! Settle down, I’m just kidding. I believe in you too, Hakkar! Come on, let’s drink before it goes cold. To our legion becoming the greatest!”

  “May all see it as an honor to serve the glory of the Dominion alongside us!” Abducius added.

  “Glory to the Dominion!” I exclaimed and raised my own glass.

  It seemed the safest way to the Coals was to advance my military career in Belial’s army.

  As long as Abaddon didn’t recognize me.

  * * *

  Something imperceptible changed. I felt cold, my heart started to beat faster. The hair on the back of my tiefling’s neck stood on end and fiery goosebumps ran along my forearms. The Limping Marilith was as if plunged into a shadowy swamp: Abdu kept opening his mouth, saying something, but his voice steadily faded away. Lerra’s laughter and the noise of the tavern dimmed, the colors paled. I thought for a moment that it must be Divine Revelation, because the effects looked similar…

  Only it didn’t seem like the spontaneous activation of my class skill. Crack! Suddenly the roof seemed to split, falling away in two halves, baring the tavern to the open sky! An unknown force had simply dissolved the part of the building above us, cutting it away at the walls just beneath the ceiling! The huge chandelier that had hung in the center of the room crashed down, crushing an open-mouthed satyr not fast enough to get out of the way. My comrades’ jaws dropped, their eyes widened. Lerra shouted something, but there was still no sound.

  “In the name of Great Prince Belial!” a booming bass resounded in the silence. “This is a special operation of the Cursed Inquisition! All remain calm and stay in your seats!”

  The voice’s owner wouldn’t have fit under the roof even thrice folded – he was huge, bigger even than the doomtank Nisrok. His lower jaw bristled with fangs so huge that they could have pierced right through any one of us. He stepped forward. His ogrish inside-out nostrils snorted out fire, horny brown plates gleamed on his forehead and a mane of bone ran down his spine.

  That must have been why they decapitated the building – whether for good or just for now, I didn’t know. The demon simply wouldn’t have fit inside.

  He leaned down over us, allowing me to read his characteristics:

  Dantalian, Demon

  Cursed Inquisitor, Dominion of Belial

  Red stars: ✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

  Orange stars: ★★★★

  Yellow stars: ✫✫✫

  White stars: ✩✩✩✩✩✩

  His somewhat smaller fellow inquisitors stood beside him, still much taller than Despot and carrying at least six red stars each. One of them, an imp, had grown as large as a demon. Mantles of fire served as their clothes – tongues of flame flowed from the tips of their horns down their backs, acting as a cloak.

  The only thing that could explain what was going on was my attempt to fly to the Coal of Hellflame. And that meant these demons were there for me!

  I tried to jump up from the chair, but couldn’t. Without any warning, it turned out I’d been placed under Cursed Inquisitor’s Decision, which not only paralyzed me, but also dropped all my stats down to close to zero. A terrible debuff, but I’d been a rag doll before.

  Flight! Clarity!

  I tensed my muscles, shot up… but didn’t. Nothing happened. My body wasn’t moving. Even with all my millions of bugged stat points, I couldn’t so much as sneeze while bound by the Decision.

  Dantalian’s foot carried above the hall and he lowered it on the other side, standing there with his arms crossed. One after another, he looked at the tavern’s customers with a piercing gaze. Lerra, hit by the debuff with her head thrown back, was looking at the part of the Cursed Inquisitor hanging directly above us and nervously licking her lips.

  “He’s here, Dantalian, you’re looking in the wrong place,” an imp inquisitor standing nearby said lazily and indifferently. He was out of my field of view, but the voice sounded tired, like a demon who had seen it all, and thereby lost all interest in life. “The miscreant is right beneath you. The stinking tiefling left a smudge when he touched…”

  “I know, Rofokal!” Dantalian snapped before looking at me. “It was the particles of palladium falling off him that led us here…” The Cursed Inquisitor grinned, released a cloud of smoke and heat, pointed a finger at me: “You! Tiefling Hakkar, you are accused of an attempt to infiltrate the residence of the Great Prince! Sentence: final disincarnation! To be carried out immediately!”

  “Dantalian, you missed something out…” Rofokal noted.

  “And what did I miss?”

  Without answering, Rofokal began to get smaller. Once grown to the size of an average ogre, he approached, leaned down and carefully looked at me, allowing me to examine him. I saw something that I hadn’t noticed before – his eyes didn’t flicker with fire, didn’t look like burning coals, but were an unusual bright green.

  “Look at his essence, colleagues,” Rofokal advised and frowned, those eyes seeming to pierce into my very soul.

  Dantalian and the other inquisitors also turned smaller, stretched out their necks, flared their inside-out nostrils, sniffing me. I held my breath. Even Hakkar’s nose caught the disgusting smell rising from these demons, making my stomach turn and threaten to return everything I’d eaten and drunk.

  “See the pale outline?” Rofokal jabbed a claw into my chest, dug around in the wound. Blood and particles of chao flowed into his finger. “There is something beneath the flesh that would make any true demon forget all else in thirst for the tiefling’s blood. He did not gain enough chao to hide the mark of Enemy. I think if we give the surface a good scratch, we will find that he is no tiefling, but a…”

  He made a pause, which stretched out. Dantalian spoke up in annoyance:

  “My dear Rofokal! Your experience is invaluable, as is your intuition. But I remind you – I lead this operation! If you have something to say, then say it!”

  “Oh, believe me, young Dantalian, my silence was not to create an intriguing pause. I was thinking about how this sorry excuse for a tiefling obtained a particle of the Enemy. You do see it, don’t you?”

  “I see it… Now,” the bigger demon admitted. “But what are you getting at?”

  “According to the Demonic Pact, no demon may set foot in Disgardium in his own flesh. But we still go there, incarnating there at the behest of mortal warlocks or those who wish to sell their souls. There is no chao there, and creation, in trying to summon the demon, uses whichever materials are to hand. No matter how much Chaos and Order oppose each other, they are merely reflections of one another, so creation uses particles of the Enemy in the crafting of a new demon form.”

  “The tiefling’s incarnation was in Disgardium and somehow got through to the Inferno? But where did the original go?”

  “No, no, it isn’t a tiefling,” Rofokal said, perking up. “It’s a mortal… I dare say it’s a mortal beast hiding behind a tiefling
mask. He killed the incarnation of a summoned higher demon and took a shard of his essence. He might have used it to create armor or an artifact. That’s happened before, but…” The old demon fell silent, flickered with flame. “A spirit preserving the characteristics of the body… Incredible! I think Belial will take an interest in this mortal and how he got here.”

  “No, he will not!” Dantalian barked, stretching a monstrous hand out towards me. “Be this creature tiefling or no tiefling, he is a violator of the law, trespasser on the property of the Great Prince himself! My sentence has been declared and will be carried out at once!” He grabbed me in his fist, lifted me up before him. “The decisions of the Cursed Inquisition are final! Glory to the Dominion!”