Sometimes my creations surprise me. I mused as I watched the scene unfolding before me. It was a lot less violent than I thought it would have been.
The zombies were unorganized and uncoordinated, but they were fast and they had an unstoppable enthusiasm in their movement. They had quickly reached their closest colleagues and knocked them down in a matter of heartbeats. What happened next depended on the devils involved, but the first time it happened the devil who had been made my minion was the first of the devils to strike, and her victim was a male coworker not far from her.
She knocked him to the floor, mounted him, and kissed him lightly, spores traveling from her open mouth into his, and quickly latching themselves to the roof of his mouth. The spores fed on the moisture located there and began to take him over in a matter of moments. Meanwhile, the zombie quickly withdrew from him and jumped to her feet, her eyes spinning quickly as she located used some other sense, perhaps a lesser radar to hone in on her next victim.
At this point the bureaucrats who worked in the office and hadn't been infected had begun to retreat, fleeing away from her and looking at me in terror. But so too had her unusual, monstrous allies begun to move. They dashed after their former friends, their minds overwhelmed by alien instincts and filled with a simple desire: to spread the spores that lingered inside of them.
I wonder how many of them will fall when they retreat back far enough... I thought, as I idly watched the bizarre scene before me. I hadn't been at the other end of the office long, but I was there long enough that my spores infected the air where I had lingered, and the office only had one exit. The zombies who were comrades of my first victim were pushing their victims towards the window where I first appeared. If I could grin, I had no doubt I would have been at this moment.
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When the devils who had retained their individual wills were pushed all the way to the edge of the office, a total of seven panicked devils who were breathing hard from fear and exertion immediately collapsed and began convulsing, the moment they entered where my massive form had once stood. Fools. I thought, chuckling as I watched them.
That moment was the moment the devils who had kept their wills gave up. Even before that, eight of the nineteen devils who weren't originally transformed had fallen and joined my servants as spore-monsters, so when seven of the remaining eleven fell it would have taken seconds for the rest to join them. The four devils merely resigned themselves to their fate, and calmly began to breathe deeply right over their fallen friends. Their transformation didn't take long at all.
While some of them were still being overtaken by my parasitic spores I began to do something akin to a clap, applauding the fun show I had just witnessed. And then I began to speak to the zombies I had created.
"Children... you have done well. But we must make haste. There is much to do." I said, my voice booming across the office, being heard and understood by all of the eerie, shambling monstrosities I had created.
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The projection that was displayed above the city continued to speak. It recounted Angelica's words while displaying her angelic face to all of the people of the city. And when it was done, I allowed there to be a moment of silence. For the sake of dramatic timing.
The city had begun to react to the impossible goings-on that were happening in the skies above them. First the dissolution of the barrier, and then the sudden and abrupt projection of my devilish form, followed shortly by the projection of Angelica's face.
The military of the city, thousands of devils of the lesser, intermediate, and even the greater tiers of the devilish hierarchy was attempting to rally and begin a thorough search of the city for the strange entity responsible for all of this. And they weren't the only things out and about.
The streets were filled with non-militaristic devils who had listened to Angelica's speech. Her words could be heard clearly throughout the city, even underground, but the best audio quality was accessible only by those who were outside and who looked to the skies above the city. And even though they were devils, those who looked at Angelica and heard her speak had to work to not be affected by her beauty.
Her words had moved the hearts of many of the people of the city. And she spoke so magnificently, thanks in part to the illusion and mind magic I had infused the projection with, that those of the devils who had harbored a secret distaste for Paimon were filled with rage and felt as though he had betrayed their kind. Which he had, so that feeling made a lot of sense.
I could vaguely feel the emotions they radiated since the emotions weren't aimed at me but rather they were aimed at Paimon. The few feelings I felt directed towards me were a sort of curiosity and a small inkling of happiness.
Not bad. I thought, and when I readied myself to speak I hoped to increase that inkling many of the city's inhabitants felt towards the idea of me, as a powerful enemy of Paimon. The projected image of me reappeared over the city.
"Wicked people of Bastille, lend me your ears and open your hearts. I am here to free you from Paimon and guide you onto the proper path for all devils: one wherein you are governed by a true tyrant." The projected version of me, with a head as big as my ego, told the inhabitants of the city.
"I am asking you, if you are a foe of Paimon, to flee this city." The projection said, its voice loud, clear, and powerful.
"This city is filled with Paimon's enemies, and those enemies are a diverse bunch but the most potent are devils whose heart drives them towards diabolism, the perfect blending of wickedness and tradition." The image above the city declared, attempting to invoke sentiments of nationalism in the people it was speaking too.
"If you are a truly diabolic being, one whose heart is perfectly balanced between lawfulness and evilness, flee this city. Flee this place and head towards the line of forts and walls that extends as far as the eye can see." The projection told the inhabitants of Paimon's home.
"I am going to claim this city, and I will make it into a beautiful capital of diabolism one day, but for now this place houses a dangerous enemy who threatens all devils." The projection told the people of the city with a confident voice and a seemingly heavy heart.
"I am destined to become the overlord of this place, of all nine layers, and I am strong enough to protect you from the wraith of Paimon. It is my duty and my honor to do so, to safeguard your souls from the unfettered, untempered, almost demonic maliciousness of our shared enemy. Please, heed my words, and flee this place. Come to me, join my people, in our half of the layer. No barriers will stop your exodus. You will be protected, by your true overlord." The image declared, arrogantly promising safety to those who seek to flee to the desert.
And that was when people in the streets began to react to the bold declarations of the projection.
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Taking over the entire building didn't take half as long as I would have thought. Each floor fell quicker than the last, and by the time I had reached the bottom of the building I had a veritable army of spore-zombies, well over two-hundred bodies strong, eagerly following my commands. When we poured out onto the street beside the building it took nearly an entire minute for the eager minions I had gathered to flood the street.
Row after row of creatures, all of which were once bureaucratic devils and were now something else, were gathered on the dimly lit street beside the building. I stood in the middle of them, and they pushed and shoved each other to draw closer to me. They were like domesticated dogs, drawing happiness from being close to an attentive and loving master.
"Children... now is our time! We will dash forward into the city, and we will feast on the devils who have betrayed us, who have betrayed our kind. And we shall ignore those fleeing the city. We shall only feast on the soldiers and their chaotic collaborators who seek to keep our kind, us devils, trapped here." I told my servants, causing some of them to react in fury at this injustice. Angered spore zombies roared, filling the air with the scent of mushrooms and rot.
"Our enemies are the soldiers who seek to keep this glorified prison running. While our brethren are subjected to the fickle whims of Paimon, we must be strong and seek to break the chains that bind them to this place. Now let us move, let us charge forward and free our kin!" I shouted, before lifting a single fungal arm in the direction of the city.
And then we charged, taking off as one enormous mass of fungal growths and terrifying parasites. At the same time that we formed a tidal wave of fungal fury, Tremor-Sense informed me that a squadron of enemy soldiers was moving in our general direction. Oh this will be fun. I thought as I urged us on even faster now that I was armed with that knowledge.
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When we drew close enough that I could see the enemies approaching us we were meeting them on a relatively thin street. They were inside two vehicles, two things called called "Humvees" according to Salifinos' light knowledge of the military composition of Paimon's military. They speed down the street right beside each other, forming a single red-wall of metal, speed, and weight, each of which contained four devils who were searching for enemies or devils fleeing the city.
They were sleek, red-painted vehicles, that were quickly approaching us. The things were square, squat vehicles that were designed to accommodate a small number of human-sized devils. They advanced forward on rubber-tiered wheels made of some sort of alloy that was designed to be cheaply produced even in the resource-lite desert we found ourselves in. The devils driving them, pilot devils, had excellent eyesight but they hadn't yet identified the strange swarm of creatures they knew were approaching them and who they were also approaching.
"Friends! Ready yourselves! Our enemies draw near!" I shouted to my servants, exciting and enraging them which urged them on faster. The vehicles drew nearer still to the vanguard of the swarm I had created, and before the collision would happen I acted by raising my other fungal form up and towards my bravest, most zealous minions. I quietly cast a spell, calling into being a thin but strong sheet of magical force meant to destroy any foes brave enough to drive their vehicle into my forces.
The thin sheet appeared in front of the vanguard, wide enough to encompass the whole street since there were enough spore-zombies for that to be necessary. And the closest of the devilish "Humvees" sped forward, breaking away from the other vehicle once the devils within it realized that we were a living force, a force of enemies to crush and bring to heel.
How curious... I thought, emotionally but not physically grinning as I prepared myself for what was coming.
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[Spell Type: Abjuration
Spell Name: Curtain of force
Spell Effect: This spell conjures a long and thin sheet of force that is by its very nature difficult to lay one's eyes on. This curtain is effectively made of iron for the purpose of determining its hardness. It serves anyone who casts it as a protective, one-way wall through which attacks can be fired and which will protect those behind it from those in front of it.
Spell Costs: 100 magical energy per meter per minute.]
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The devilishly driven "Humvee" drew closer and closer, until it was rather forcibly stopped. It was stopped because it was a very stoppable force that met a wall of ethereal, magical iron.
The crash was fascinating to watch because I could see the rage and ambition hidden within the eyes of the distant pilot devil. He had been determined to weaken my forces and believed that starting things off by driving his vehicle into the fungal mass would be enough to soften us up for his allies and the rest of the military.
The driven devil had driven his comrades to their doom, a fact that didn't escape me. The vehicle had slammed into the wall of force and the resulting crash was both horrendous and fascinating to watch. The instant the four-wheeled thing made contact with the wall it was brought to a sudden, screeching stop and its back wheels were lifted into the air itself.
I watched as the devils within the vehicle were launched forward from their seats, sailing through the windshield of the vehicle if they were seated up front, or brutally slammed into the seats in front of them if they were seated in the backseats. The damages inflicted on the devils was savage and to a mortal would have no doubt been unpleasant to see, but to me, it was amusing since I'd be able to heal them and bring them back from the brink easily.
I'm not going to let them die from this. I thought, aware of the fact that I could heal them, even the ones who flew out of the "humvee" and who shattered bones when they were launched hard at the wall of force that greeted them and destroyed their vehicle. My zombies were unphased by their attack and merely launched themselves forward at their fallen forms, unsympathetic of their plights and the pain they were in. Good. I told myself, not being inclined to feel sympathy towards my enemies.
The metal that made up the vehicle was horrendously damaged by the crash, with the entire front of the thing compressing in on itself like a sort of accordion being played by an expert, and thus drawing the devils within the vehicle closer to their possessed neighbors. The sound the thing produced was explosive and deafening even dozens of meters away from it like I was.
I threw myself forward, pushing and scattering the freakish monsters I had created out of the way so that I could approach the fallen devils more easily. As I did I willed more magical energy into my hands than usual, figuring that their weak forms would require some intensive aid to be brought back from death's door. Weaklings. I thought, almost grinning, not that I could in my current form.
It was at that moment that I felt a powerful presence step into the outermost reaches of my Tremor-sense power, as far from me as it could be while being picked up by my abilities. Almost without thinking I used Identify on it and chuckled at the entry that appeared before me.
[Name: Gugrog Hammersmith
Class: Berserker, Disciplined Duelist, Level 25
Species: Krieg-Devil
Faction: Paimon's order
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Personal Vice: Wrath
Status: Healthy, enraged
Innate Magical Ability: Gugrog possesses incredibly little magical power. On the other hand, he possesses considerable physical power and strength. Because such a weakness as a devil with little magic requires something to balance it out.
Class Suitability: Gugrog is the perfect class for himself: berserker. He's a powerfully built warrior and possesses an incredible rage. His particular specialty allows him to transform his otherwise unfocused rage into something that allows him to hone in on a single opponent and positively devastate that single person.
Magic Suitability: The school of magic that most suits Gugrog is the school of restoration. This school allows him to heal himself and is useful even for those who have little magical energy.]
So this Gugrog fellow is approaching me huh? He's still a bit far away... I could do something from a distance... Nah. I could have some fun fighting a berserker. I thought as I drew closer and closer to the devils who had tried to run down my minions using their vehicle.
It's been a while since I had a good hand-to-hand fight. I told myself, grinning at the prospect of fighting an enemy with my fungal and floral fists.