-The results of a war are decided before the first swords clash.-

Horacio Mauvek stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing out across a wide field to the soldiers setting up targets on the other side. The sky was clear. Air resistance was minimal. Glancing over at Dame Cyril, she seemed to be in good condition.

A soldier ran up to General Mauvek and saluted. “Sir! The targets are ready and our men have cleared out, sir.”

Horacio nodded. He cast stern black eyes down at the Paladin woman beside him. “Choose a distance you’re comfortable with, Dame Cyril. Let’s see your throwing arm.”

“Here is fine, sir.”

The former knight spread her feet out and raised the golden implement. Her stance demonstrated that she’d at least thrown a spear before, General Mauvek noted, though there were signs of amateurishness still.

Nevertheless, as the Paladin wound up for her throw, her face was full of serious confidence. The Holy Spear began to glow in her grip: a soft, white light. There was a flash and the General had to shield his eyes.

“It’s done, sir.”

Cyril’s words were almost drowned out by the sounds of meteoric impact that roared at the same moment. Facing his eyes forward, he saw the centermost target completely gone and the surrounding targets blown away. A steaming crater stretched tens of meters long.

Horacio felt a bead of cold sweat slide down the back of his neck.

“Now that’s a demon slaying spear!”

The voice of Councilwoman Varincia Glout cried ecstatically from her covered tent. As she waved her hands, several sorcerers were already gathering instruments to go and measure the impact site. She trotted over to the Paladin and began excitedly proposing a variety of other tests they could do.

Horacio, meanwhile, glanced at one of the soldiers waiting nearby. “Cooperate with Councilwoman Glout and Dame Cyril for their tests,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir!”

“Also, send someone to go and retrieve the Holy Spear.”

“Oh, sir,” Cyril looked over her shoulder and interrupted him. “Unless they’re a member of the church’s order, it isn’t safe to touch the Holy Spear. I’ll go retrieve it myself in a moment.”

The General mulled over her words for a moment. “Understood. Belay that order, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.”

Horacio stood with nothing left but his dignity as the two women discussed how to experiment further with that terrifying weapon. That thing had been kept in their vaults unused for such a long time that knowledge of it had almost faded to history. But it was as real and as terrible as the legends portrayed. His skin still tingled where it’s celestial radiance had shined on him

“Oh, hey General,” Varincia interrupted her rambling chatter and called out to him. “That was a good thought, pulling back the scouts we almost sent over. I forgot that was the standard for an army’s information gathering.”

“Not at all,” the dark-haired, dark-eyed soldier shook his head modestly. “Astaroth was the name of the Devil we’re facing? You told me he was the cowardly type, so I didn’t want to spook him before the main force could arrive.”

“No, really, it was quick thinking. We almost made a mess of things. We’ll handle surveillance magically on my side.”

Horacio nodded. “By the way, I have a question for Dame Cyril.”

The Paladin had trotted off the moment Varincia’s attention was off of her. Now she was returning with the Holy Spear in hand. Horacio couldn’t help glancing at its sleek golden body and sharp tip.

“Yes, General?” she called. “I’ll answer whatever I can.”

“For the safety of my soldiers, what precisely does it mean that it isn’t safe for someone outside your order to hold that spear?”

Cyril bobbed her head nodded seriously. “It means that if they tried to grasp it in their hands, it would burn them. Those burns would need weeks to heal. It’s not a joking matter.”

Horacio nodded. “I’ll be very clear that they aren’t to touch it under any circumstances.”

The next test was set up in a different section of the field, so he let the Paladin go. She demonstrated that the Holy Spear was able to cleanly penetrate a typical stone wall and sail for several dozen more meters still.

Horacio fingered a gold ring on his finger for comfort while watching the tyranny of white light and golden metal.

***

“My prince, you aren’t asleep yet?”

In Limure’s central castle, Fennel peeked between a set of double doors at Astaroth, sitting upright in what used to be the city lord’s bed.

It was the largest and most comfortable bedroom around, so naturally it had been reappropriated for the city’s conqueror. The scarlet silk sheets and velvet canopy happened to suit the Devil prince nicely, so he didn’t change them.

Fennel had a spare pillow tucked under her arm and was dressed only in a thin nightgown, though, frankly, the feathers all over her body hid everything sensitive from view.

The Prince of Hell tipped his head and smiled brightly at his newest warlock. “I just had something on my mind. More importantly, what precisely are you doing here at this hour dressed like that?”

Fennel felt her right hand starting to ache as it remembered last time’s punishment. She could obviously see the sadism drenching her prince’s voice and expression, just waiting for her to give him a reason.

But as a valuable subordinate, she wouldn’t be killed, and nothing she was doing was against the law, so she wouldn’t suffer any major damage, physically or financially.

“My wise and merciful prince, have you heard of an ancient human custom called night service?”

Astaroth’s lips parted and his fangs showed. It was a very magnetic smile.

“Fennel, come here.”

She knew this was going to hurt, but she still chose to view that pain as an expression of affection… of some kind.

Her prince enjoyed tormenting others, so perhaps, through continuing to indulge him, she would one day catch him in a good enough mood to indulge her. It was a sinful wish, wanting to share her body and life with a higher-ranking being, but Devils liked sinful things. Therefore, she wouldn’t bottle up the burning longing in her blood and bones.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Holding her pillow in front of her for protection, the birdfolk approached her patron’s bedside, and she leaned down when he beckoned her with a clawed finger. His breath tickled the feathers on the side of her face as he whispered to her in a soft voice:

“My body is a temple.”

She shut her eyes tight and was surprised when the pain didn’t come. Her master was still smiling at her.

Did this mean she would get permission this time? Those hopes were soon dashed.

“Get down on your hands and knees and worship me. You can keep it up all night, since your body is so restless.”

Knowing that a less kind punishment would follow if she refused, Fennel lowered her feathered body into a position she could hopefully sleep in.

“My prince, is this exclusively a punishment, or is this what pleases you?”

She asked even knowing it could make her situation worse, because a small corner of her avian heart hoped that she was being tormented out of love, rather than spite. Really, she couldn’t help herself.

“It’s a punishment,” he smirked. “Why would I feel anything for a half-blood beast? That said…”

A hand made of fire manifested, gripping Fennel’s chin and turning it up at a harsh angle, so she could make eye contact with him.

“A warlock with Devil blood is born with the right to climb up.”

Fennel blinked her yellow hawk eyes. “I can become a Devil?”

“Just keep channeling my power.” The magic hand released her, but she didn’t lower her gaze, drinking in her prince’s kind words and cruel smile. “I have enough Devil in me for all you lowly beasts.”

***

“My prince?” Rahashik flicked his serpentine tongue, concerned at his master who seemed to be spacing out in the middle of the day. He thought he heard the Devil faintly mutter, “It should be about time soon…” before snapping out of it.

“What is it, Rahashik?”

“Well, I went snooping, and it seems like all the adults in this city have signed the church’s contract. Some of them have even started bringing along their kids who know how to write.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

Rahashik blinked, judged that his patron wasn’t being sarcastic, and then scanned their surroundings with cautious eyes. In a hushed voice he asked, “Are we being watched, my prince?”

“Hm? No, not that I can tell.”

“Then why is it a shame? Did you not desire this result?”

“Well,” Astaroth reached up and gently felt at two little bumps above his temples, “it’s a shame because I was hoping to reap a few more immediate profits before the population fell into order, but that seems unlikely now.”

His horns hadn’t even pierced the skin yet, but all the would-be debtors in this city had either been dealt with already or become law-abiding citizens.

Rahashik flicked his tail, resolving to take the initiative. “My prince, you seem a bit distracted lately. Is there anything this humble servant can help with?”

“You can help me by employing your skills,” Astaroth sighed. “Rahashik, why do you think I bothered creating warlocks? If all I wanted was for you to be an attendant, there would’ve been no need.”

The lizardfolk blinked and raised his neck. “You are displeased. Everything is going smoothly, is it not?”

The small Devil turned flaming irises on his warlock. “Your intellect stood out among beasts, Rahashik, but I’m rather disappointed right now.” He held up his hand and let the sun glint off his sharp nails. “Start that complacent head of yours turning. I’m going to test you now, and for every wrong answer I hear, I’ll pull off three of your scales.”

Rahashik keenly sensed that this was not the time for playfulness or banter, so he stood straight at attention and listened.

“First question, why would I be upset that everything is going smoothly?”

Because you’re a sadist? Rahashik thought but didn’t say. It was very possible in his head that the Devil simply wanted to have more fun, but if that was the right answer, he was going to be tortured no matter what, so Rahashik desperately searched for an alternative.

Another option is that things aren’t going smoothly after all?

But that wasn’t the question Astaroth had asked. His question presupposed that everything was going smoothly.

While Rahashik frantically thought, his yellow eyes twitched ever so slightly back and forth. Tentatively, he parted his teeth: “Because things shouldn’t be going this smoothly?”

“Elaborate.”

Rahashik felt the pinpricks of sharp claws between two of the scales on his neck. He swallowed.

“We took an entire city from the humans, but there hasn’t been any retaliation so far.”

The prickling sensation ebbed off, and Rahashik rubbed his neck.

“If they’re taking their time, it means they’re preparing for a large offensive,” Astaroth said. “That much is fine, but they haven’t sent any smaller groups to spy on us or exhaust us with skirmishes. Why might that be bad for us?”

More confident and focused now, the lizardfolk scratched his chin and peered upwards. “Preparing for one major attack despite never having fought us before means they think they can win with that one attack,” he theorized. “So either they’re overconfident, or they really are that powerful.”

“Minus one point,” the Devil declared, swiftly tearing a single green scale from the lizardfolk’s arm. Rahashik hissed and covered the raw, bleeding skin with his hand. “There’s nothing all that unusual about preparing for a single concentrated attack. It’s the lack of scouts and skirmishes that’s the point here: information is the issue at hand, not power. Maybe our opponents are conceited, as you said. Or maybe they already have all the information they need.”

“How could—” Rahashik cut off his words the instant he saw his master’s sharp gaze. I was about to lose points, the lizardman realized, feeling the stinging sensation in his arm and swallowing. Again, he forced his head to turn and came up with a reason himself.

“Perhaps, my prince, are you well-known among Devils and Angels?”

Astaroth relaxed his intent to do harm to his warlock, nodding. “There was a chance that my reputation wouldn’t become a problem, since the Angels have long abandoned this world. Unfortunately, it now seems probable that our opponents already have an idea of what I’m capable of. Meanwhile, I’ve only begun to gather secondhand information on this nation of theirs and its prominent residents.”

The Devil Prince held his forehead and sighed. Then he looked sharply at the lizardfolk. “Information is paramount in war, Rahashik. If the enemy knows what I can do, but I don’t know what they can do, even if I ought to win a battle, I’ll lose it. Therefore, either I need to know as much as my enemy knows, or they need to be as ignorant as I am. That is the absolute bare minimum—more important than actual strength of force. That said, I need you to listen closely and reign in that complacent habit you have.”

Rahashik set his jaw and nodded. “I’m listening, my prince. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Minus two points,” Astaroth glared, tearing two scales from Rahashik’s other arm. “Rahashik, you are weaker than Giyeridon, less amusing than Cassius, and you don’t have any unique qualities like Fennel does. You were selected as my warlock because of your intellect, so you can’t be this dense. What in the Nine Hells do you think I want you to do?”

The lizardfolk blinked, more wounded by the lecture this time than the pain. The gears in his head turned more easily now that he’d started them a few times already.

Of course, with his skill set, there was only one thing his master would want from him now.

“… Will you need me to return when we move on to the next target?”

Astaroth smirked, and let out a faint chuckle. “Why would we? Just go do what you ought to. But, just to make sure we really are on the same page at last, where are you going?”

The lizardfolk grinned with needle-like teeth. “To the capital city. I’m going to spy on the humans.”

“Correct.”

Finally, his servant roused to action, and Astaroth, left alone to his thoughts, stroked his chin.

I also would’ve accepted it if he said they were spying on us with magic. There isn’t much I can do against that at this point. Some things are bound to slip through the cracks. But I should treat this as a worst-case scenario and assume that we’re facing both problems.

He turned his eyes to gaze out a window to the city below.

I hate a fair fight, but it isn’t like I can’t compete unless the scales are weighted in my favor. Let’s get those mortals to grind their teeth a bit and move on to the next phase.