It hit me in the same moment. I stood, raised a hand, shouted:
“Hey, everyone!” My allies looked at me. “I’m going to call out some names. If you hear your name, walk over to me…” I went through the raid list, shouting off names: “Anna… Meister… Koba…”
Those named moved to stand next to me and the ones who were with me during Youlang’s attack — Quetzal, Hellfish and Destiny.
Watching my actions in confusion, they exchanged glances, then figured it out.
“You think someone ratted us out?” the titan asked in a whisper.
“We have a mole from Marcus in our midst. There’s no other explanation.”
“He got knocked out!” Destiny exclaimed. “Didn’t he?”
“He did, but one of his people is still with us,” I answered.
“Youlang must have been in a raid with the mole and seen their marker on the map!” Hellfish nodded. “It has to be one of Meister’s people! We know all our guys, but he had over a hundred. Some of them must have been outside the group…”
A quick headcount and a comparison with the current raid list showed that one of those present wasn’t in our raid. It was the tailor Hox, the one who had tried to stab me with the knife.
The gnome rolled up into a ball beneath Quetzal’s harsh gaze. The titan asked in a friendly tone:
“Hey, buddy, how is it that you’re not in the group?”
“Well, uhh…” the tailor floundered. “Wasn’t invited!”
“Sure, sure… And what stopped you piping up to ask for an invite?”
“Don’t kill me! This is a misunderstanding! Send me an invite! I’ll accept it!”
“He’s lying!” Meister said through gritted teeth. “I sent him an invite personally! I just forgot to check the damn list! I’m such an idiot!”
“You couldn’t have known,” Bloomer reassured him.
Those two had only just finished crying over their friend Roman. The curser had been one of the first to fall at Youlang’s hand after attacking her with his legendary “Hope you die!” curse. Now, having found the one responsible for his death, the jeweler and the poet perked up. Meister jumped up and shook his fists:
“Bastard! How could you, Hox?”
“Traitor! Scumbag!” The poet shoved Hox away. “Where’s the shame on your face?”
The tailor stopped trying to act. Realizing he was caught, he blurted out:
“What could I do? Marcus’s clan Warsong is my main customer! They promised not to kill me if I collaborated, they said I’d be at the top of the leaderboard!”
“They had over a hundred people themselves, moron!” Hellfish snapped. “They would never have let you into the top 10%! Hey, what’s that you have there?”
Hox was spinning his rusty shank in his hands. The sniper grabbed it and looked closer.
“This is no simple knife! Now I see why this idiot was trying to cut you, Scyth! Take a look!”
Caustic Shank of Confusion
Rare dagger.
Damage: 1-2.
Each hit dealt by this knife has a very low chance of causing the victim to suffer an attack of confusion, making them perceive friends as foes and foes as friends.
+1 agility.
+1% chance of causing instant death.
Attention! Deals no damage to demons.
Only for the Demonic Games!
Sell price: 75 demonic gold coins.
Chance of loss after death lowered by 50%.
Hellfish put the knife away in his inventory, but I extended a demanding hand:
“Give it to me.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Go ahead and tell me why you need it. I definitely don’t need it, I can take out anyone without it. It doesn’t work against mobs, so what am I supposed to think?”
The werewolf stared at me hard, saying nothing. I tensed, but he flipped the knife over and handed it back to me. I put it straight into my inventory.
Quetzal cut the tension:
“Now that’d be funny!” The titan broke out in laughter. He slapped himself on the knee, bending double. “Ahaha! Everyone tries to kill him and he survives! Ha-ha! They throw him into the Pitfall — he survives! Ha-ha! They throw him in again as a statue — he survives! Ha-ha! They almost kill him dozens of times, but he slips away every time! Then he nearly died to a level 1 tailor with a rusty knife! Hahaha! The great class-A Threat! Level 101! And he could have fallen down dead… Ahahaha!”
The titan was in hysterics, he couldn’t stop.
“The chance was only 1%!”
“Lucky son of a bitch!” Hellfish shouted, also unable to hold back the laughter. “How much luck you got there, kid?”
Listening to them, the others broke out into laughter too. Even Meister cheered up. All at once, they started recalling my apparently random, but suspiciously consistent good luck. There were rational explanations for all the coincidences, but altogether, the only thing that could explain them all was luck!
Distracted, I nearly missed the moment when Joker decided to quietly start killing Hox. At first I noticed the tailor twitching unnaturally, then saw his health bar falling and rushed to protect him.
“Stop! Don’t kill him!”
“Why not?” came the question from several angry voices at once. It turned out there were several in favor of a lynching, including Bloomer. “He’s a traitor! A scumbag!”
Quetzal, Hellfish and Kara, who were used to discipline, helped me protect the traitor, who was curled up into a ball on the ground.
“Hox will be punished!” I declared. “But first I need to check something.”
Grabbing the tailor by the collar, I dragged him to the graveyard. He had less than a quarter health left. The others followed behind. Destiny walked proudly beside me.
At the edge of the cemetery, I looked around:
“Despot!”
My demonic ally separated from the shadows, his bony spines clattering. He came closer.
I spoke to the demon:
“Hey, Horns, tell me — who is this mortal to me?”
“Pff…” the demon snorted out a great gush of steam. “An enemy. Will you give him to me?”
“Take him!” I said, pushing Hox toward him.
Despot launched the tailor into the air, threw back his head and opened his mouth. The gnome’s body began to char before he even landed. The jaws clamped shut, the demon chewed on Hox a moment, bones crunched, then he swallowed. I could see the flesh melting inside him through his exoskeleton.
The people behind me stirred. There were cries of disgust. Close up, the sight was sickening. Destiny gripped my arm hard, driving her nails in and unable to tear her eyes away as the demon licked his lips and belched out flame.
I nodded at the girl:
“What about her, ally?”
“The elf girl? An enemy also,” Despot flamed. Destiny reeled back. “Formerly. Now she considers herself your ally, but she will betray you if the opportunity presents itself.”
“He’s a demon, he’s trying to get in your head!” Destiny whispered furiously. “Don’t trust him, Scyth!”
“Correction…” Despot continued. “Something is happening in the elf girl’s soul, something is changing. Her old values are reforming, but what it will lead to, I cannot say. There is much murk. After it subsides, then all will be clear.”
Meister moved forward and shouted desperately:
“Check me! I have nothing to hide!”
“Not an enemy,” the demon shook his head. “Shame. But not a friend either. The old gnome has a special interest in you. Financial.”
“What about me?” sculptor Anna asked.
“You, mortal, are out for yourself. But you will not betray my ally, even if it is in your interests. You are committed!”
Far from everyone wanted to be checked. Many moved back as soon as Meister called them for the loyalty test. It was easy to understand them. I was no longer the naive schoolboy from the sandbox. I k
new that some had become my allies not out of free will, but out of necessity.
“I’ll say it straight, kid — I don’t like you,” Hellfish muttered while Despot was evaluating him.
“The changeling isn’t lying, he truly dislikes you,” the demon confirmed. “But he does not see you as an enemy.”
“Quetzal?” I pointed at the titan. He reluctantly stepped forward.
“This child of Uranus and Gaia is no enemy to you. He will not betray you. He is not a friend, but could become one,” Despot answered. “But you know what? Friendship, love, family… You mortals give too much meaning to that which is worthless. You believe us demons evil. Why? Because we refused to bow to the New Gods? You bowed to them, so why are we evil, we who rejected the enslavement of our souls and lost them up to keep our freedom? And why are you so good, you slaves of Nergal, Marduk and the other New Gods? Who decided it so? There is neither good nor evil…”
I tensed — if Abaddon had seen the marks of the Sleepers in my soul, then no doubt Despot had too.
“Worry not, ally,” the demon continued. “I will not reveal your secret. But I speak not of you! Mortals believe us evil, but if there is evil in the world, then it is no horned demon, it is the three-headed beast that eats your souls alive. And those heads are cowardice, greed and treachery. If one sinks its teeth into your soul, then the other two will swallow it up.”
“Oh, we’re onto philosophy now,” Meister said, rolling his eyes. “And no Roman here to debate with.”
The demon cast an appraising glance at the jeweler:
“Surprise, surprise, the gnome is not hopeless!” He looked at me. “I am sick of this, ally. Weak souls, small spirits. Not to mention those hiding behind your back — pathetic and wretched in their substance. I do not know why you need them. You should give them to me to eat, and be done with them!”
The game day would end in a few minutes. Finding Youlang now was a hopeless task. We decided to spend the night in the tavern for the rested buff, which would give us a boost to experience tomorrow.
When they saw us, the villagers suddenly screamed in panic and hid in their houses.
“What’s up with them?” Meister asked, looking up and down the emptying street.
“Something to do with Scyth’s pet, I think,” Hellfish said, chuckling.
I ordered Despot to hide in the shadows. Laughing, the demon disappeared from view.
We were nearly at the tavern when a familiar face poked out of the blacksmith. Looking this way and that, the man walked out and shouted joyfully:
“You’re alive! I’ve been here. The local blacksmith let me hide.”
It was Infect, level 1 bard. His reappearance impressed nobody.
“Good job… hiding…” Quetzal said dryly.
My other allies stared hard at the boy. He looked between them desperately.
“Well, what was I supposed to do? I was on my last life, and the Markers were all over…” Suddenly, he saw me standing behind the broad backs of the titan and the werewolf. He perked up. “Scyth!” he shouted. “Is that you? God, how lucky!”
I didn’t answer him. I flew over to him, grabbed him by the leg and lifted him into the air.
“Despot?” I called to the demon.
“What the hell, Alex?!” Infect shouted, twitching like a worm on a hook. “Let me go! What are you doing?”
Realizing what I intended, Quetzal shouted:
“Leave it, Scyth! Let the kid go! He’s with us! He only just survived!”
“Sure, just one sec… Despot!”
“More food, ally?” the demon growled, separating from the shadows.
“You tell me! Who is he to me?”
“Stop messing around, Scyth!” shouted templar Alison, Bomber’s girlfriend. “It’s Malik, he’s one of us! Don’t hold a grudge. Everyone else fought you from the start too, but still ended up your allies!”
“You don’t get it, Alex…” Infect muttered. At the sight of the demon, he lost the gift of speech for a moment, then continued: “Come on, buddy, Tissa and I will explain everything!”
“Shut up!” I snapped, turning to the others: “Let me deal with this myself!”
The demon chuckled, snorted, blasting us with a wave of heat. But he said nothing.
“Answer me, Despot!”
“This mortal does not himself know who he is,” the demon admitted reluctantly. “Not a friend, not an enemy, but… both. He both loves you and hates you. His soul is filled with black envy, but in his heart of hearts, I see regret for the way he has treated you. He betrayed you, ally, you know that for yourself! His conscience taunts him, but turn back the clock and he would do the same again.”
“You don’t know shit!” the bard burst out in answer.
“Maybe not,” the demon readily agreed. “But I see through you. Well, ally? Will you give him to me? This undying one is out of lives — I will absorb his soul.”
“There’s plenty of time to kill me later, Alex,” Infect said quietly. He didn’t beg or whine, just bit his lower lip. “Let me explain, then decide what to do…”
I looked down at him. “He’s yours, Despot,” I said, releasing my old friend’s ankle.
The bard fell silently into the demon’s open maw.
Chapter 27. “It was all for you, Alex…”
AS USUAL, Kerry met me at my capsule, struggling to hold back a smile. My assistant handed me a towel and turned away. She really was rooting for me, but I didn’t feel like opening up and sharing my joy with her anymore; I had my own team now, united by a shared purpose.
By the time Kerry and I set off for the hall of ceremonies, Marcus was standing in the corridor on the immersion level, waiting for me. He’d already had plenty to drink.
“I just want you to know,” he said. “I don’t hold grudges. Water under the bridge. Everything that happens in the Demonic Games stays here.”
He stretched out a hand, full of alcoholic good cheer, but I still hadn’t forgotten his bullying. There was no need to spit in my face. His hand hung in the air. Barely moving his tongue, he said angrily:
“Wow! What are you, butthurt? Come on, man, it’s just a game!”
“Just a game? So you won’t mind at all when I tear down your clan castle, right? Why would you? It’s just a game…” I shook my head. “No hard feelings, Mr. Jansson, but this isn’t just a game to me.”
“Damn, kid… I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I don’t look for enemies, Mr. Jansson. Don’t worry about your castle,” I said, walking away.
“Don’t think I’m scared, kid!” he shouted at my retreating back. “Don’t get so sharp you cut yourself! You think you can hurt me, punk?! Your days are numbered! We’ll see how you talk after you get eliminated!”
Another unpleasant meeting immediately followed that one. Malik and Melissa intercepted me by the elevators. Now there was a couple I absolutely did not want to see.
“Alex!” the girl said, walking up to me and grabbing me by the shoulders, shaking me. “You have to let us explain!”
“I have to?” I laughed mockingly and calmly continued: “You’re the ones who shouted to the whole world that you didn’t want anything to do with me. Remember what you called me, Melissa: a fame-blind piece of shit. Why the hell should I listen to you?”
Kerry pushed herself between me and the girl, turned to me:
“Should I call security?”
“Alex, I beg you!” Malik said.
“Really? I thought you were sick of my arrogance?”
“You have it all wrong!” he answered, nearly in tears.
“I think I got the message, old friend. You look out for yourself and watch your step. If I see you, I’ll break your guitar. And I will see you, no doubt about it.”
“Alex, come on..!”
I was sick of listening to his whining, especially now that he’d lost everything. That made him look pathetic.
I turned down Kerry’s offer to call sec
urity and silently walked into the elevator as soon as the doors opened, away from my former friends. I burned with the desire to speak to them, hear them out and hash it out, but couldn’t shake the fear that my emotions would get the better of me and make me punch Malik in the face. And then I’d be disqualified for sure, with good reason. Anyway, the couple had hardly chosen the best place to confess something. And what could they even have to tell me?
The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series Page 43