Chapter 524: The Devil Fortress in the Way

Disguising herself was no trouble at all for Milena. All it took was a sealed helmet and a quick application of Shapeshifting.

All that mattered was that no one recognized her true face. It didn't matter if they noticed the disguise itself.

According to the cambion, hiding one's identity in Hell was the most natural thing imaginable. Every devil was drowning in debt of one kind or another, owing something to another devil, who in turn owed something to a greater devil, so disguises and false identities were simply a way of life.

There was a certain morbid saying in Hell: a devil who doesn't charge interest on loans isn't a successful devil; a devil who doesn't know how to dodge his creditors is a dead devil.

Once Milena transformed into a drow, she found herself slipping fully into the role. Even her way of looking at the cambions shifted to match.

"Hmph! Lowly males, lead the way. Our destination is Blood River!"

Milena summoned a whisperwood warhorse and galloped off across the endless wasteland.

She trampled countless wandering ghosts stranded across the wilderness without a second thought. The cambions had no choice but to spread their wings and race to keep up, not daring to lag behind for even a moment.

Of the original thirteen cambions, only eleven were still alive. Two had already become zombies.

At first, only that one liar had been zombified.

But to guarantee Milena's safety, Black Rose had made every cambion send over a strand of their hair, then publicly demonstrated her legendary boon in front of the whole group.

One unlucky cambion, who'd done absolutely nothing wrong, had been turned into a zombie on the spot.

No matter what that cambion tried, there was nothing he could do. He was forced to watch as his own body turned ashen gray piece by piece, his soul slowly corroding away, trapped forever inside his own undead husk.

"If anything happens to Milena, you'll all become zombies. If the communication between us is ever disrupted, you'll all become zombies. If I so much as suspect any of you of anything, you'll all become zombies."

That was the warning Black Rose delivered to the remaining cambions.

The terrifying threat left the surviving cambions shaken. They could do nothing but tremble like hellworms.

What kind of mistress had they stumbled into? How could anyone be so terrifying?

The first cambion finally understood that Milena wasn't some foolish girl who'd merely stumbled onto an artifact. She was clearly a noble scion granted an artifact by her family elders, sent to Hell to gain experience while her powerful relatives watched her back from the shadows.

Nothing left to do but obey, then.

The cambions flapped their wings hard just to keep pace behind Milena. Flying was faster than running, but the dark magic coursing through Milena's body far outstripped their own—and as long as Milena's dark magic reserves held out, fatigue simply wasn't a factor for her.

Milena's mount was conjured entirely from magic, and it didn't tire at all. After half a day of racing across the wasteland, the first cambion finally cried out, "Mistress! Please, wait! If we keep going like this, we'll drop dead on the road!"

Milena finally slowed to a stop, unimpressed. "You're tired from just flying?"

The cambion didn't know what to say. The undead really did lack basic human decency.

Grumbling aside, Milena did stop, allowing the cambions to catch their breath for a while.

The first cambion quickly pulled out a stack of flatbread-like rations, found a spot to sit, and dug in without ceremony.

The other cambions did much the same, each producing their own oddly-shaped provisions and cramming them into their mouths to restore their strength.

Curious, Milena asked, "What's that you're eating?"

"Bonemeal cakes," the cambion replied.

"Devils need to eat bones?" Milena asked, surprised.

The cambion managed a wry smile. "Not the bones themselves, but the soul residue clinging to them. We cambions only really need souls to survive, but souls are precious currency down here in Hell. You've seen those scattered wisps of soulfire along the road, haven't you? Those are our everyday food. The trouble is that soul fragments don't keep well on their own, so we need to store them in some kind of remains."

The cambion held up his grayish-white "cake." "This is made from crushed skull fragments, and can hold a certain amount of soul residue. The others are eating something similar. Bone or rotted flesh—anything that can hold soul fragments works, but..."

Before the cambion could finish, the cake in his hand suddenly cracked apart. A few firefly-like motes of light spilled out; the cambion lunged and gulped them down in a panic before they could escape.

Once he'd swallowed every last speck of light, the cambion continued, somewhat ruefully, "But these things don't last. A soul crammed into remains that don't match it properly keeps degrading over time. A bonemeal cake like this only stays good for a few days at most."

Milena looked around at the other cambions and confirmed what he was saying. The cambions weren't really eating the rations themselves, but the soul fragments held within.

Milena mused, "So in Hell, souls aren't just strategic resources. They're food, too."

"Strategic resources?" the cambion asked, puzzled. "You can't mean soul fragments. Only complete soul-coins really count as strategic resources. The devils who've been specially modified carry Hell Engines inside them, and those things need soul-coins as fuel to operate. That's way out of reach for lowly hybrids like us."

Milena smiled proudly. Her father used to deal in soul-coins by the tens of millions.

For a moment, she felt every bit the pampered heiress, though she didn't need to flaunt it over a lowly cambion. And the moment she remembered her father was still suffering in Sariel's hands, she couldn't help snapping, "Eat faster, all of you! I'm in a hurry!"

None of the cambions dared complain. They hastily finished off their rations, made one more sweep of the area to scavenge more soul residue, and then pressed onward.

Whatever the cambions claimed about being lowly rabble, they were still among the elite of devilkind. Otherwise, they'd never have been worthy of an artifact gifted by Sariel in the first place.

All thirteen—now eleven—cambions had somehow kept pace with Milena for an entire day. But the moment a dark shadow loomed up out of the ruined wasteland ahead, every one of them slowed down without meaning to.

The first cambion spoke up urgently. "Mistress, that shadow up ahead is a fortress of Hell, another lord's territory. We can't just charge in there. It'll start a war!"

Milena stared at the murky shadow. Sure enough, an enormous fortress seemed to be rising out of the darkness ahead.

"So how do we get past it?" Milena asked.

"That depends on what you'd prefer, Mistress. The fortress won't have access to direct teleportation into Archduchess Sariel's residence, but the larger strongholds nearby should be connected to it. If we could borrow their teleportation array, we'd save ourselves a fair bit of time and go straight to the next lord's territory. If you'd rather not take the risk, we could go the long way around. If we claim we're headed for the Blood River, under normal circumstances, no one would stop us."

Hell welcomed anyone willing to join the war on the Blood River, but that didn't mean the lords of Hell would let anyone cross their territory freely. What if they were using the war as cover for a surprise raid?

No devil in Hell was honest. They all assumed the worst of everyone else, simply as a matter of course.

"How much of a detour would that be?" Milena asked.

"About three days, I'd guess. But once we go around this fortress, we'll have to go around the next lord's territory too, and that time would really add up. If we detour the entire way, it'd take at least two or three months just to reach the Blood River."

Milena frowned. "That's far too long. Isn't there any other way?"

There was no way she could let her father suffer under Sariel for that long. She wanted nothing more than to fly straight to his side this very instant.

The cambion said, reluctant, "Then our only option is to risk negotiating with the lord who controls this fortress. If you're willing to pay enough, borrowing use of the teleportation array isn't out of the question. But you should understand, Mistress, that there are only two kinds of devils in Hell: the greedy, and the extremely greedy. One wrong move, and either of us could end up swallowed whole. Are you sure you want to take that risk?"

Milena nodded. "Yes. Let's at least try it. If it doesn't work, we'll take the long way."

Ever since transforming into a drow, Milena was actually starting to think things through. She was no longer that clueless girl who knew nothing but how to swing a sword.

The cambion let out a breath of relief. Thank goodness this girl wasn't a total blockhead. If she'd insisted on charging straight in, that really might have been dangerous.

Milena reached out and clapped the cambion on the shoulder. "You go talk to the fortress lord up ahead. Explain why we're here, and ask what it'll cost us to borrow their teleportation array."

"Me?!"

The cambion's eyes went wide. He wanted nothing more than to bite off his own tongue right then and there.

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