The Ringed City of Zakka - First Circle of Hell Extreme Difficulty

What if you lose the fight? The voice of weakness whispered. What if your preparations are not enough?

He ignored it, yanking the armor off the merchant stall with little trouble. The demon didn't notice at all, unable to. It certainly was able to tell armor had vanished somewhere, pilfered away.

But by the grace of the Old One, he was undetectable to all. So long as he caused no damage and moved through the world like a ghost.

The enemy System had cast him out into the wilderness, far from his target. But he'd overcome that. The infestation and creatures here hadn't seen him either. The Old One watching over his task. So he'd traveled quickly to the nearest city and begun preparations.

Here, he'd walked into every store, taken everything he needed.

Potions, scrolls, enchantments, armor. And he was now searching for one final item.

A weapon.

The demonic smith shop loomed ahead of him, and he walked straight through the doorway, the bell ringing.

The shopkeeper turned, hearing the sound and seeing nothing.

A moment later, the shop was missing a longsword. The finest one that smith had made.

His copied shape's boon finally hummed to life the moment he took hold of the hilt, the Old One whispering in his mind's eye the newly added buffs.

His target would be killed. His inner doubts were nonsense.

Killing things was what his race did best.

He was born for it.

Shaped by the Old One's careful ministrations for centuries.

Preparing for another attempt at their glorious purpose.

Bael observed the necromancer sitting on a rock, tapping away at a flat, thin brick.

He'd seen it glow, so it was an enchanted piece of metal in some way, but how it functioned or what it did, Bael had next to no idea.

He knew he shouldn't be thinking of solving this puzzle either. Everything about this situation screamed danger to him. He had mostly stayed out of the mithril sea by avoiding danger at every turn.

But the weapons display here simply boggled his mind.

He remembered the feeling of that detonation - watching that Blackrotten demoness charge at them. He'd been shifting his essence to solidify into his arm and skin in order to resist the inevitable charge, and then - completely knocked backward by a wave of power.

He was still mending one cut in his lower stomach; some kind of metal fragment was lodged in there. It was taking some time to slowly push it out where he could grab it with a finger.

The other metal weapon the human had used was that L-shaped metal block on a handle.

His best idea thus far was that it focused sound directly into a tiny point, which was an insane concept in the first place. Using sound as a weapon? Who would even think of that?

That kind of esoteric notion about weaponizing the strangest concepts felt like it came straight from the ancients. And of the five ancient civilizations… was this thing a working relic from the old Sun Elves, perhaps?

They were said to wield weapons that tunneled through the mountains down here in hell, powerful enough to take on the other four ancient races. But nothing mentioned sound.

On the other hand, nobody really knew what their weapons looked like in action. Despite their ruins and scriptures being the most common artifacts to find, none of the relics left by the old Solar Empire remained functional anywhere.

None of it could be functional by default.

But if this blade came from that era, it would explain the impossibly advanced metallurgy within that sword. And why it wasn't enchanted in any way he recognized.

It might need an existing sun to power it rather than mana.

He would have expected a high elf or some variation of their kind to be the ones recovering their 'ancestral' weapons. Those snobs all believed themselves to be the pinnacle of creation solely from being descendants of that empire.

They would go into a frenzy at the mere idea of a human, of all species, managing to find an alternate source of power compatible with the solar empire's remnants.

Even more reason to avoid the human the moment he could.

He felt a pulse in the air, the sensation of kin. That shook him out of his thoughts.

It seems their gamble had failed. The prior fight had shown the human's abilities did have limits, and where those limits were on being overwhelmed. The skeleton minion would have helped, but given it had no mass, it wouldn't have made for a strong enough bait.

He'd remained behind despite the infected arm, on the case that Wade got attacked again by a pack. With him already infected, he could take a few more bites and act as a shield. His arm right this moment looked fine and it was far away enough from his head to let him continue moving on his own for a few hours, assuming his luck remained.

But more importantly, he wanted to make certain the demoness coming wasn't going to be trouble to the male human here, and being left alone without supervision was inviting exactly that.

Hopefully he'd reach the base of the city before his arm caused issue. It was much safer to self-terminate right by the base of the mithril sea. The moment he respawned, he could safely walk back up through the fog and mithril without issue.

It wasn't a fully wasted hour at least. He tried to figure out if the human was stalling in hopes of picking up an easy contract, but usually, mortals didn't need to go this far. Plenty within the cities were waiting for the right contract to escape. Why go looking for a specific demon already under the mithril sea?

He caught a whiff of desire coming from the human, but it oddly had nothing to do with lust. Instead, it was greed. Not an emotion Bael would have expected, although it did taste quite good and he was starving a bit after all this time under the mithril sea.

So he remained silent and slowly ate at the greed radiating off the human, while curious about why it was there in the first place.

What would a demoness have to offer besides lust?

Simple survival wouldn't have triggered outright greed from the human. But clearly Wade saw something else of interest in this, and the human believed it would benefit his personal goals in some way.

Bael snorted. This part would get tricky. The demoness was humanoid, which meant she was right in her element when put up against Wade. He couldn't blame her for what happened next, if he weren't a Satyr, he'd have tried the same.

He stood up from his quiet meditation, grabbing a discarded piece of strange clothing.

With his new theories in mind about the solar empire, he looked down at the fabric with a more critical eye.

Certainly human-sized, so perhaps this was what the sun elves once wore? It didn't match any of the drawings, scrolls, or statues they had found still intact.

Also rather short for elves. Very short. He put it back in the bag and grabbed a much longer shirt, one that would still be rather small for his stature but would serve more as a cape if Wade wore it.

A pulse came again, one Bael was very familiar with. It carried the stench of shackles and divine magic. An ancient pact, drawn up by gods far stronger than their current pitiful descendants.

The demoness appeared, taking on a physical shape. Pale blue skin, patterns of black all over, and yellow golden eyes that gleamed with intelligence. She also had a pair of very thin and dainty hooves, a long prehensile tail ending in a spade, and somewhat straight horns.

That wasn't all too uncommon. All demons had some splashes of others within. Bael himself had plenty of Fiend features despite being mostly Satyr.

She landed on the ground, stumbling as her legs and hooves failed to adjust. It reminded him of a newborn foal, the mortal kind. But demons came into existence fully knowing how to shape and move their essence by instinct. She would recover her old muscle memories rapidly, just as he had.

And she was going through the same process he had, already sensing there was a mortal here to work around, tasting the greed in the air, and instinctively recognizing the mortal was a human. A perfect target for her kind.

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Curves began to appear in all the right places, ethereal features mimicking the mortal's skin tone, the prettiest shade of color for her hair, and all the general checkmarks for the convoluted amount of things Fiends had to think through on what humans in particular were known to be drawn to.

Bael had it rather easy in comparison.

As a Satyr, all he needed to do was keep his hooves well-trimmed with a dark shade of black, ensure a copious amount of musk filled the air, waggle a tail with a bushy end in a circle, make his horns enormous, and give himself a large physique. He could even shape the horns however he wished; they only cared that the horns grew larger than his head and remained sturdy. Minotaur women didn't need anything more than that; the rest was all about butting their horns with his. The harder he could rattle their heads, the more smitten they would become. Males required slight adjustments in preferences, but mostly the same things.

He had spent a few years in a brothel, but ultimately his skills in smithing improved enough to be valued more. After all these years, he had finally admitted to himself that he rather liked smithing compared to the typical demonic interests of combat and mortals. Sure, he couldn't eat Lust as often, but there were other emotions in the air he could generally feed on with his clients nearby.

However, those years before his trade had taught him how to spot quality and skill in a demon's appearance, and he was well-versed in what human males were generally after from secondhand gossip among past Fiend colleagues.

She changed like a chameleon, and Bael found it... completely uninspired.

It was bog standard mirroring; the demoness either didn't have much creativity, lacked practice, or wasn't taking chances and was doing everything by the book.

Given the situation, Bael would bet on the last option. In fact, she hit the most average possible combination she could. All the crowd favorites, nothing really unique. Even down to choosing blond hair. No multiple shades in there either, not even a single highlight. He felt almost annoyed watching.

The only bit of actual flair she had was freckles - a little smattering across her cheek and nose. That and hiding most of her jet-black skin patterns, with the exception of those that lined her eyes. Strategic use of her unchangeable aspects as pseudo-makeup

It was working too; the mortal was staring, slack-jawed. Mostly stunned right now rather than anything else.

She turned her gaze directly to him and opened her mouth, probably to say something sultry. "My rescu-"

Bael slapped the shirt over her head like he was about to kidnap her. "Absolutely not."

"Wai-!"

He threw a pair of pants next at her before she could even fumble around with the shirt. "No."

Unlike his own legs and size, those pants should fit her just fine. Little loose on her, but a belt or some of the excessive amounts of rope the human had would fix that.

A good thing too, if she'd had to tie a shirt like a skirt around her waist, she'd probably be more dangerous than less.

"I swear I wasn't staring," Wade stared like a fish from the rock he sat on, all attention away from that metal tablet of his.

"Wait, what?! You aren't?!" The demoness squawked, still fumbling with the clothing piled over her. "What did I do wrong?! Should I go larger? Or was it the tail that isn't right?"

"None of that." Bael said, making sure he stood between the demoness and the mortal, and blocked the sight. "Get dressed."

"I didn't-" She protested, and went instantly silent a moment after.

Bael had drawn the longsword, then tapped the flat edge on top of her horns a few times, warning her.

The girl held the shirt and pants in hand, then stared up at him wide-eyed. Tearing up. As if he'd been bullying her.

"Really?" His tone was flat. "Clothes. Now."

The tears immediately ended and she gave him a moody tongue click. Upset that he was ruining her plans. "Well, at least allow me to offer my thanks to the both of you for rescuing me."

He rolled his eyes at that. "Quit trying. You don't even know if he'll offer a good contract or here looking for fresh slaves for the mines."

She quickly tapped her chest, "These say otherwis-"

He tapped the flat of his blade on her horns again. "Less preening, more clothing. Now." Frankly he wasn't even certain he was following his contract to protect Wade, or accidentally protecting her from Wade. "You've got the wrong mark. He's not going to lead you back to a mortal city where you'll land a cushy job in a brothel. This one's the kind that ends up under the mithril sea on purpose. Or accident. Hard to tell which is worse." He tapped the sword against her horns again. "Either way, the dangerous kind. Think with the head between your horns, not the one you're trying to grab."

She gulped and seemed to get the message. Then she looked down and actually paid attention to what was in her hand.

"Uh, what is this?"

"A shirt." His longsword tapped down like a teacher's ruler. "And these are pants. You know how they come off, do that in reverse."

"I know what pants are!" She huffed. "I mean, what is this fabric? Where's this come from? It's really nice." She stretched it out a bit, actually looking interested.

"…Is this really a question to ask while we're under the mithril sea?" Bael asked.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She asked, now sounding confused. "I've never seen this kind of fabric before," She brought it up to her face and sniffed it full on. "Oh, it even has an interesting scent. Flowers?" She took another smell of the shirt. "Bergamot? Citrus? A bit of Rose in there. Violets too?" A third deep smell. "Wood? Wait, Sandalwood? No, there's something more in there."

She really buried her entire face into that fabric and Bael was no longer certain it was an attempt to show cleavage to the human or if she was generally this scatterbrained.

He considered and then came to a conclusion, turning his attention back to Wade, "There's something wrong with this one. I suggest we kill her again and move on."

"Uhh… what?" Wade asked, still staring.

"For hell's sake." Bael took one step between the mortal and the still-not-yet-dressed demoness. "Decide if you want her to travel with us, or if we kill her here and buy ourselves another hour to make distance. We can't sit here for longer."

She perked her head up at that. "I would prefer to travel with you two! I'm good for it, I can pull my weight!"

Bael growled.

"I'll behave! I swear, I'm not going to be trouble!" She insisted, now throwing the shirt on and pulling the pants up - without any attempts at making it look more than utilitarian. "I only want to ask a few questions about where the scents came from, if he knows the alchemist who made it. That's all!" She paused, then grabbed the hem of the oversized shirt and stretched it again. "Oh and the fabric too. This is the first time I've seen this material before, and I've seen a lot."

"Kill, or contract?" Bael said, looking over to Wade while tapping the sword a few times at her heart. The mortal was the one with the weapons and power here.

She frowned, then pinched the tip of the blade and brought it up to her neck. "I prefer a slice here if you could, loss of consciousness is quick and mostly painless in my experience. Never liked getting stabbed, couldn't get used to it yet."

Bael nodded. "As you wish."

He personally even agreed with her, a slashed throat felt more like a bad papercut and would knock him unconscious within a few seconds. To demons this was as banal a preference as there was. No reason not to assist the other with a more pleasant way out.

But Wade was a human, and had human sensibilities. "Uh, wait. Why do we need to kill her to part ways? That seems excessive. Like, extremely excessive."

"You've got equipment worth killing for. And if I thought it, so will she." He said with a sigh.

"Is he… new down here?" She asked, tilting her head at him. "I'm not complaining or judging of course, I keep ending back here all the time so I'm a little used to it now. But there's always a first time!"

"He's a mortal." Bael said. "You see them often down here?"

He couldn't expect mortals to know much of the common sense for surviving under the mithril sea, they didn't need to ever worry about that possibility and thus had no need to learn about how to handle it.

"Oh. That does make sense in hindsight." She nodded, the blade still at her throat.

"I still don't understand." Wade said, rubbing his eyes. Bael could sense the temptations over his mortal had mostly lifted now that the demoness was both dressed and no longer trying to make a mess of things. But the confusion was still there.

"An hour gives you distance. Time to disappear." Bael said. "I thought you were being smart about it when we first met. Wait for me to come back, use that time to prepare and reset yourself, then contract or finish it clean and move on with a full hour headstart away."

"Ah." Wade said. "I'm just… having a little hard time wrapping my head around dying down here."

"He really does sound innocent." The demoness said. "Starting to think all that talk about him being dangerous was talk. I haven't sensed anything darker than mild greed and what feels more like curiosity than anything to do with lust. I'm a tad bit worried about that, I thought I had this shape down right."

Bael snorted. "Dangerous people and people that attract that danger are one and the same." He turned back to Wade. "Get used to it. You'll need to kill me at some point. Or I'll do it myself."

"What? Hold on, I thought we had a deal to protect each other? Why would I kill you?"

"You are protecting me." Bael withdrew the blade and then tapped the flat edge to his forearm. The one infected with Blackrot from that wolfbite. It had only begun, but in probably a few hours he'd need to reset his essence. He already couldn't feel if it was spreading or not yet, Blackrot did the opposite of pain, even masking it fully. He wouldn't notice how bad it got until it was too late. "You're protecting me from this. I'll need to rid myself of this hitchhiker eventually. Preferably when we're somewhere safe enough we can wait out another hour."

If he hadn't come back to life so recently, he would have reset right after this demoness would, but right now it would take him two hours to restore himself. His essence hadn't completely solidified yet. Not to mention his earlier fear at Wade being attacked from a pack. Or from whatever this girl would pull on him, though given her lack of imagination with her current shape, he equally hadn't had to fear this outcome.

Done with the demonstration, he lifted the blade back up. But he felt the gesture was mostly theater at this point. Deep down, Bael already knew what Wade would say.

He was simultaneously the most dangerous mortal he'd met thus far, and also strangely devoid of cruelty. Not even a whiff of it. He truly didn't consider demons expendable yet. A very rare trait among mortals.

"I vote we let her in." Wade said.

"So be it." Bael answered, then turned to the demon and repeated their current bargain.

"Well that doesn't sound dangerous at all." She said after hearing the simple terms, hands now on her hips as if she were about to scold him. "Didn't even feel itchy. Was expecting something that would make me nauseous for a few minutes. I think you were lying to me about him being bad."

It was indeed a good deal for them. Wade had far more leverage with his weapons and Blackrot immune skeleton minion. He could have asked for far more.

"Accept or reject?" He asked, ignoring her earlier needling, wanting to get this over so they could start leaving instead. Blackrot creatures in the area weren't stupid enough to come charging after the same creatures that had killed so many of their kind just an hour prior, but they also had short memories. The longer life stayed in one area, the more appeared.

"Oh no, I absolutely accept!" She started bouncing on her hooves, going through the normal motions to build up her old muscle memory. He made sure he was between her and the human, so Wade wouldn't get distracted from the bouncing. But this demoness at least didn't seem to be doing that intentionally. Something was odd about her.

Done with one stretch, she held a hand out to him. "Medy. Apothecary."

"Bael. Forgesmith." He answered back, then stepped backwards to allow her to walk up to Wade, hoping that wouldn't be a mistake.

"Oh, uh, Wade. Businessman." He said, shaking her hand next, then froze up, eyes scanning something but Bael could tell it wasn't her chest. Still no lust coming out of the human.

"Businessmen?" The demoness clearly hadn't noticed the searching eyes, more rambling off about other things now. "No wonder you have such exotic goods here! Are you part of the production for this fabric, or the perfume used? I'd love to see what other items you might be trading! Where are your sources, how many cities do you have dealings with to get something like this? Are you selling them by chance? I don't have much money on me right now, but if we get to my old cities, I might have some funds. I really like the smell and feel of these, they're cozy."

But Wade hadn't been quite listening to all that.

Because, unknown to Bael or Medy, Wade had gotten a quest over his system. Exactly at the same time he'd reached out to shake her hand.

He looked up to Medy, then back down at his quests, then back up.

New Personal Quest: The Alchemist - Convince Xan'Phane'Malrano'Yettith'Medea'Vee to follow you back to Earth and work as your retainer. Rewards: One storefront coin.

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