Lawrence awoke. He gasped. He stared at the ceiling. Cold sweat covered him. Cosmic Creepers licked his face. He lay on the floor in his room. Cosmic Creepers stood next to him. He stared out the window. Standing guard.

“What happened?” Lawrence groaned.

“I should be asking you.” Cosmic licked his face. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he gone?”

“For now. Back to his body, I think.” Lawrence grabbed his chalk. He drew another warding. He prepared another spell on top.

“We should hunt him down and kick him to death,” Cosmic said with conviction. “He is not dead. He will recover.”

“I know. We’ll have to repeat that battle in Reality.”

“Can we take him?”

“Alone? Pry not. He’s a mage, remember. He didn’t use magic in the dream world. He will in Reality. He’s probably got a whole horde of artifacts to use against us. And all the iliaster in his basement. And all the mana crystals in his shop.”

“Then why are we still here? We must flee.”

“Two things first.” Lawrence sat cross-legged in the circle. “One. Exorcism.”

A black crow with two heads shot out of his chest like a cannon. It made Cosmic jump. It flew through the wall and vanished.

“What was that?” Cosmic squawked.

“A remnant. I didn’t think I killed him. I wasn’t sure. I don’t remember. After I saw you bleeding, the next thing I know I was standing over him and then—and then I was awake.” Lawrence sniffed. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome.” Cosmic nuzzled his ear. “Thank you for not letting those uppity idiots put me down.”

“Fiery Projection: Diana Lawrence.” A spinning ring of fire around a magic mirror appeared. A pale face appeared. It spoke some words for a moment, presumably to Diana, and then it vanished. Diana’s wolfish face appeared in the mirror, as if she sat on the other side of plate glass.

“Hey, mom.”

“Hello, son. Did you perform an exorcism just in case?”

“I did. He’s gone but he’s not dead.”

“Then you must find him and kill him. Any means necessary. He is going to use magic on you. You do not have time to waste.”

“I know. I just—I had some questions.”

“There is no time. Every moment you spend here is another he uses to prepare. He knows you are coming.”

“What are you?” Lawrence said. “Really. You’re not a demon, are you?”

“Yes, I am.” Diana’s face morphed into the human woman. Dark-haired, short, with gray eyes, and attractive. “I was born a half-demon. My mother was a human, my father was a beast. My Mutation Skills began developing at a young age: Multiple Tails, Armored Carapace.”

“You don’t have a carapace,” Lawrence pointed out.

“Armored Carapace is an Defense Skill. It can manifest as anything as long as it protects against damage,” Diana explained. “You’ve heard how people with too much body fat can shrug off gut wounds? For me, the skill manifested as fur. A thick, tough hide. As my son, you should manifest your own variation soon.My third Skill was the most important."

“What is it?” Lawrence asked.

Diana hesitated. “Gaping Bite. Your mouth will open much larger. By itself, it does little. But if you choose to upgrade it instead of taking additional Mutation Skills….”

“I know.” Lawrence grimaced. The thought of having more teeth did not excite him. Biting his opponents… he preferred claws. Empowered claws were cool. Empowered teeth were too… animalistic, bestial. Too gauche. “I have one more question. Who is my father?”

“Scott. Oh, your real father, you mean? You are much happier not knowing. But since you are asking, you may have a dream in the near future. If not, you may qualify in other ways. Option one: Complete the Trials of Levelling. You should receive the notification at the start of the new year, if you qualify. Option two: commit a specific abomination. I don’t want you to live with the scars of it, thus all I will say is that it’s related to my third Skill. Option three: Seek the Tenth Circle.”

“Thank you.” Lawrence wrote it all down in his notebook.

“Godspeed, my son.” Diana vanished. The fiery projection stayed for a moment, then it too, faded.

“The tenth circle,” Cosmic Creepers said. “I didn’t think Hell had a tenth circle. The ninth is the capital, Pandemonium. The entire Ring is the floor. The actual floor of Maelstrom. The rest of the rings are the walls.”

“I know.” Lawrence checked his guns. He made certain all were loaded. He geared up with his weapons and armor. “Like a giant ice cream cone. We’ll talk about it later. C’mon Cosmic. Let’s go kill a monster.”

-

Lawrence opened the door. Lily shoved a knife into his gut. It felt like being punched. His brain did not register pain right away.

“Sorry, not sorry, kid.” Lily let go.

Lawrence stumbled back with the knife still inside. Cosmic Creepers screamed. Lawrence drew his sidearm. He fired all eight, very real bullets straight into Lily’s torso. A similar surprised expression blossomed on her face. She stumbled back a step. Her knees bent.

“Fast Healing.” Lawrence pulled the knife out. Blood ran, but his flesh knitted together. He dropped the knife. “Fast Healing.”

He stood. Lily sank. Lawrence ejected the magazine and shoved it in his pocket. He fished a full one from the same pocket. He could tell which was which by the weight. He rammed it into the M1911. He racked the slide.

“Help me,” Lily begged.

“After you—no. You know what? Doesn’t matter. Lady, I never wanted a fight. I always thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Red hair, green eyes. I thought you were an angel.”

“You’re taking my place.” Lily pressed her hands to her gut. “Winter said—he said he needed you.”

“Yeah, because he’s dying. I dunno why or how. But it’s the truth. He just tried to steal my body. I’d be in his body if my Mom hadn’t shown up. Possession attempt.”

“He’s dying?” Lily’s eyes widened. She looked at Lawrence the way a condemned man looks at a headsman with the latter holding a rusty axe. “I don’t understand. I thought he was replacing me.”

Lawrence could taste her fear on his tongue. He could smell it in his nose. It tasted delicious.

“Yeah,” Lawrence exhaled. He realized he was breathing heavy. “I thought he’d be training me. Looks like we both got duped. My guess is he wanted to keep you alive for obvious reasons. He wanted to steal my body instead because I’m a human version of him. Similar power level, less iliaster requirements.”

“I can be useful. I have contacts. Friends. I have—”

“Your intelligence stats are low. You don’t think ahead and you don’t listen. I can find another redhead anywhere. I half-suspect the contacts are Winter’s. He already admitted to me the only reason you’re here is because you sleep together.”

“He told you that?” Lily’s jaw dropped.

“You really don’t have any power, do you?” Lawrence said after a moment of silence. His mouth twisted. “No power, no friends, no Skills. …Just a pretty face.”

“Please.” Lily pressed her hands against her front. Scarlet flowed over her shirt. “I can still serve. Please.”

“Serve me how?”

“Whatever you want.”

Lawrence looked at Cosmic. Cosmic shook his head. Lawrence debated.

“Sell me your soul,” he said. “A max-level, one-hundred-strength Contract. In perpetuity.

“Kid, I’m dying,” Lily protested. “Please, for the love all that’s unholy, please help me.”

“Never in my life did I think I’d be the one on this side of the table.” Lawrence snorted. “Honey, gonna be honest here. I don’t have a catchy tune. I don’t have a cool song. I don’t even have a prepared speech about crossing the road or paying the toll. I’m not a sneaky devil in a nice suit laying out all the terms and conditions, makin’ it seem like a sweet deal. All I got is an offer and a price. And you’re not a princess. You have a choice to make.”

“Please.”

“You’re dying. You can do like I did this morning in the cafeteria. You can keep your pride, or you can make a deal. With your level of Corruption, any deal you swear will stick. Anyone with a Corruption over fifty is vulnerable to the hooks, as you know. You have a choice to make. I’m not gonna sweeten it. I’m not gonna sell it. I’m not a salesman. And I am done talking.”

Lawrence holstered his weapon. He crossed his arms.

“Does it come with three easy installments of nineteen ninety-five plus shipping and handling?” Lily snapped. “Or maybe I’ll get a set of bonus steak knives tough enough to saw through a nail yet can still cut tomatoes like this. Who would take a deal like that?”

“Everyone does in the end.” Lawrence thought for a moment. “There’s a fictional despot named Shan Yu. I’ll summarize it for you. He believed: in people’s last moments, they show you what kind of person they are.”

The blood leeched out of Lily’s face. Her breathing quickened. She looked down the hall. At what, Lawrence did not know.

“Do you feel those icy fingers?” Lawrence whispered. “The devil biting your ass? You’re corrupt, Lily. Eternal damnation awaits.”

“I swear.” She used her normal voice. Lawrence shook his head.

“I may have come here yesterday, but I’m not naïve. Last chance.”

Lily’s face screwed up. Lawrence recognized the expression. Lily valued her freedom more than anything else in the world. It didn’t matter. Her lifeblood soaked into the stone. The Grim Reaper approached.

“Fine,” Lily seemed to force the words out. “I’ll do it. I swear a one-hundred-strength Contract. My soul is yours, now and forever, in life and in death, to use as you please. I am your servant, and your slave. I forfeit all rights, entitlement, and obligations to one Doctor Lawrence. Use me as you see fit. Abuse me as you desire.”

“Magnetize,” Lawrence intoned. All eight bullets flew out of her body and attached themselves to Lawrence’s hand. “Fast Healing. You must create your own iliaster. You’re a half-demon, right? Make it and give it to me.”

The holes in her chest sealed. Lily concentrated.

“Take it.”

“Iliaster Drain.” Lawrence snatched her four units of iliaster. He then used them as fuel. “Fast Healing.”

The blood returned to her face. Lily groaned.

“You’ll live. You need rest.” Lawrence stepped around her. He opened the door on the opposite side of the wall. “Where is Winter?”

“In his house.”

“Defenses?” Lawrence grabbed the back of her collar. He pulled her into the room. Lily cried out from the pain, but Lawrence ignored it. “What are his defenses?”

“Warding 5’s on all doors and windows. No traps; the demons can’t get in. The masters leave him alone. The students are too weak. He has a lot of hung rituals, though.”

“Artifacts?”

“He’s not rich enough for those.”

“I call BS.” Lawrence kicked her legs out of the way. “Stay here and recover. I want a full report of your status by the time I get back. Hide nothing.”

“Yessir.” Lily curled into the fetal position. Bitter tears pooled under her eyes.

Lawrence pretended not to notice. He shut the door behind him. He reloaded his magazine. He looked with some sadness at the empty box. He had twenty 9mm rounds left and one grenade. His revolver never had many. He had two loaded moon clips in a pocket on his pant leg. Twelve revolver rounds overall. He expected to use all of it today.

“You should have let her die,” Cosmic said.

“I couldn’t.” Lawrence avoided looking at him.

“Because she’s pretty?”

“Well that too. Because it was the right thing to do. Besides, I need minions. There’s a game I used to play. It involved catching pocket monsters, raising them, and battling them against other people.”

“Sounds like dog fighting mixed with slavery.”

“Pretty much. The point is my present situation is a lot like those games. Like the characters in those games, I don’t have a Status. I don’t have a Class or Skills. But she does. The demons do. I can buff her mental stats and maybe alleviate the worst of her personality. Higher Wisdom scores warp people’s personalities, et cetera. The rest of it, I can use her as a battle slave. Winter talked about it at breakfast. Faustians don’t like to fight each other. They use bound demons as gladiators.”

“You can do better than a whore.” Cosmic flicked his ears.

“Every kid started with either a pigeon or a caterpillar. They didn’t start catching dragons or living fossils or thunderbirds until late in the game. Lily is my pigeon. I can use her for a little while, then bind something bigger.” Lawrence opened the door. He walked down the hall to the stairs. Cosmic followed. “Besides, she’s a woman who has lots of sex. She prolly purrs when she has an orgasm, the way a pigeon purrs when it gets petted.”

“But you didn’t bind her. You made her swear a contract. Isn’t there a difference?”

“Yeah. I’ll need to do a proper binding ritual later. A Contract is an agreement. You can influence it like a devil or a lawyer. A binding doesn’t have those restrictions. It’s more like an iron shock collar.”

“Wait, how will you be able to kill Winter? You swore to obey him. How did you even battle an exorcism?”

“Caught that, didjya?” Lawrence chuckled. “Yeah, it’s one of the rules about Corruption. Hell’s Corruption is in the air we’re breathing. Just being here makes us more corrupt. It’s why Purify rituals are one of the first things a student learns. Keeping one’s corruption low means they don’t always go to Hell when they die. On the other hand, high corruption means they get random Mutation Skills. Mutation Skills are the same Skills demons get as they level.”

“You’re saying gaining Corruption is a shortcut to power, but it comes with eternal damnation,” Cosmic said.

“Pretty much.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“You didn’t answer my question. How will you beat Winter having sworn such a high-strength Contract? You used your contract voice.”

“People with less than fifty Corruption aren’t required to keep their word. People with more than fifty Corruption are, and they suffer severe psychic distress if they don’t. We’re talking headaches, nose bleeds, brain hemorrhages, strokes, even death, if a demon breaks enough Contracts. Half-Demons are born with a Corruption of fifty, but their Status isn’t officially recognized by the Program until they get Access.”

“You’re saying you’re basing this entire thing on a technicality? Because you—” Cosmic looked around. He lowered his head to Lawrence’s shoulder. “You’re either very smart or very stupid. I never thought not having Status would be a good thing.”

“There are benefits.” Lawrence shrugged. “More resistance to Program things like psychic damage. That’s what’s been allowing me to shrug off some of his will checks. When two faustians use Irresistible Will, the Program makes will checks behind the scenes. Which of us is stronger, though the checks are influenced by lots of variables. I don’t know all of them.”

Lawrence strode across the lawn. Weatherly halted in the middle of lesson. He met Lawrence halfway.

“Young man. I say, young man. You cannot have an animal on the grass. It is against the—.”

Lawrence backhanded the old man. All the students oooooh-ed. Weatherly sniffled. Lawrence kept walking.

“Are you gonna cry after I slap you?” Lawrence yelled without turning around. “Go back to your lesson, old man. I’ve got work to do.”

Lawrence kept his face straight. Inside he squirmed. It didn’t feel right to knock Weatherly down. The old man did not deserve it. Lawrence found the row of homes on the far side of the quad.

They were a collection. All British, upper-class townhouses. Centuries ago, faustians had left Hell to find choice pieces of real estate. Somehow they arranged for a Hellgout to draw not just them but the entire house. And somehow they made it land not on Emptiness but here, in the hole of one specific mountain, on Tempest. Lawrence would have loved to know what ritual they used to arrange it. Sadly, the knowledge was pry lost.

Each house had a name stenciled above the mailbox. Lawrence located Winter’s.

“Stand off to the side, Cos.” Lawrence positioned himself on one side of the door. Cosmic stood behind him. Lawrence thrust the tip of his sword through the door’s stained-glass window. The door exploded in a great fireball. Cosmic screamed. Lawrence held his breath. He stuck his sword through the burning doorframe. When nothing happened, he tilted his head. He exposed a sliver of his eye. He saw nothing.

There was a staircase. A narrow hallway leading to the rear of the house. A sitting room in front, through which Lawrence saw a nice kitchen. Warding sigils covered the doors and windows. Every path and opening and doorway visible had a warding.

“Is it safe?” Cosmic Creepers asked.

“No.” Lawrence put away his sword. He drew his handgun. He held it with both hands. He kept it pointed at the floor. You might want to stay back. This thing is loud.”

“I go where you go.”

“Stay behind me.” Lawrence stepped through the door. He moved out the way at once. He entered the front room. Winter had some nice furniture. His front room and kitchen were picture perfect. It was as if he’d taken a page from Home & Style magazine and brought it to life. “None of this is used.”

“An illusion?” Cosmic bit one of the pillows. He defecated on the rug. “Not an illusion.”

Lawrence ignored the horrible smell. He stepped into the kitchen. He tried walking like they taught in school. Set the ball of one’s foot down first, then the heel. Silent walking. Many people took it as a Learned Skill. He never mastered it. He wasn’t even good. He put silent walking out of his head and concentrated.

The kitchen was empty. Lawrence saw the door to the basement. It had a max-level warding and a tungsten padlock. Lawrence ignored it for now. He went down the hall. He came back to the front of the house. He put one foot on the stairs to test it. The stairs creaked.

Lawrence raised his weapon. He slowly climbed the stairs. He passed a row of pictures on the wall. They showed Uncle Winter in his human form. He was smiling. His arms were wrapped around a pretty woman.

Lawrence reached the first landing. All the doors were closed and warded. He waved his hand. Cosmic climbed the stairs. The entire house heard the llama’s hooves clomp the wood. Lawrence winced. Cosmic reached the landing. Lawrence turned the knob of a door. He pushed it open. Bathroom. Toilet. Actual toilet with water in it. Actual shower. Both had signs of use.

Lawrence kept scanning the ceiling. He opened another door. Bedroom. Whips, chains, gags, dildos.

“It stinks in here.” Cosmic sounded disgusted. “Why are there tissues and magazines everywhere?”

“Loner who can’t talk to girls.” Lawrence snorted. “Let’s keep moving.” The room at the other end was another bedroom. It had been turned into an alchemy lab. Mortar and pestle, cauldron, old witch’s hat to strain mixtures, shelves crammed with ingredients. Lawrence closed the door. He climbed the stairs to the third floor.

Another bathroom, empty. Another bedroom, turned into an artificer’s workshop. Bedroom number two, the master, bore a max-level ward. Lawrence motioned to Cosmic. Lawrence pushed the door open. No fireballs. He peered around the jamb. He expected to see a mounted shotgun waiting to go off. Maybe Winter would be in here.

Lawrence saw a huge bed, a wardrobe, a desk. The bed was unmade. Chains hung from the posts. The entire structure was wrought-iron. It allowed for many attachment points. Lawrence saw nothing on the ceiling. Nothing living here. Winter slept here, but he was not here now.

“He must be in the basement,” Cosmic stuck his head through the doorway. He sniffed. “I smell sex and cum. But no bird.”

“I know.” Lawrence lowered his weapon. “I’ve always known. All right, let’s go. Oh, hold on. I want to grab something.”

On the way back down, he went into the artificer workshop. It was thoughtful of Uncle Winter to have everything labeled. Lawrence searched for and found the biggest bag of holding Winter had. He threw a Breastplate of Magic Resistance over his jacket, and grabbed an electric saw and some other items. It would have to do. No doubt there was a limit to how many magic items he could wear.

Lawrence knew the limit in the mortal world was three. Three good items, maybe four. A bag of holding took up one slot. He did not know if the rules were the same in Hell, but it would not be a good idea to learn by experience. Wearing too many magic items in the mortal world caused them to interfere with each other. With explosive results.

Lawrence went down to the alchemy lab. He almost picked up a potion. Most of them were high quality rare stuff. Permanent flight. Ageless immortality. Liquid luck. Draught of Living Death. Draught of Selene’s Embrace. Greater health regeneration. So nice of Winter to label all his potions. Lawrence took none.

He could trust an artifact to a point. If either of the items were boobytrapped, they’d have exploded when he picked them up. Potions were deadlier. Any of them could be a jar of acid ready to blow up in his face. Regular alchemists were often weak. They either made average potions, thus making a living, but not becoming legendary. Or they experimented a lot with unusual or rare ingredients. And as a result, they were poorer. Regardless, no doubt Winter had everything warded with explosive spells. Alchemy labs run by actual mages were not something Lawrence wanted to rob.

Lawrence went back down to the ground floor. While he did not worry about being quiet, he did not relax. He moved to the basement door in the kitchen.

“Isn’t tungsten indestructible? How are you going to get through a tungsten lock?” Cosmic Creepers asked.

“It has a melting point of 6,192 degrees.” Lawrence fired up the saw. He slid the saw into the crack between the door and the frame. He turned the saw into the door. Slowly, he carved a hole around the lock. The door swung on oiled hinges.

Lawrence backed away. He put the saw down and readied his next idea. He struck a flare he’d stolen from Winter’s workshop. Red light filled the room. Cosmic Creepers averted his head. Lawrence nudged the door open with his foot. Nothing waited. The stairs led down into a rectangle of darkness.

From his position, he saw a concrete floor. Pillars braced the ceiling. Lawrence noted the stairs did not feature backs. In a horror movie, someone would be waiting under them to cut his Achilles tendon when he descended.

“I smell bird,” Cosmic whispered. “Down there.”

“Yeah. Keep watch.” Lawrence took out a mirror, a cardboard tube, and some tape. He tore a hole in the bottom of the tube. He wedged the mirror in place. He did the same thing at the top of the tube. He crept forward. He holstered his weapon. He tossed the flare into the dark. Red light illuminated the basement like day. Lawrence lowered the cardboard tube under the first stair.

He saw a dungeon. It was not a BDSM dungeon. It was one used for snuff. Horrible, bloody tools lay on a table. He saw steel bars set into the far wall. Too many damned souls were crammed inside. Lawrence saw several damned attached to machines. He felt Cosmic’s hot breath on his shoulder.

“I think we should leave and get reinforcements,” the llama hissed. “The other students. The masters.”

“Low level and weak,” Lawrence murmured. He turned the tube. Soundproofed walls. Torture devices. Writhing damned. There. A black shape on the ground. “Reveal The True Form.”

A halo encircled the prone figure.

“Got ‘em.”

“It’s a trap,” Cosmic hissed.

“It’s always a trap. Take a step back.” Lawrence spun the tube in as much of a circle as he could. He saw a sarcophagus on the other side of the room. It gave him a bad feeling. His mind raced with the implications. He spun the tube back to the figure. It was gone. “Shit.”

“What do we do?” Cosmic whispered.

Lawrence racked his brain. He turned the tube in a circle. He twisted the cardboard to see the entire dungeon.

“I can’t find him.”

“Where could have gone?”

“Keep an eye on the ceiling. Above and behind us. What’s your sniffer say?”

“Bird still down there. Ceiling up here still clear.” Cosmic sniffed hard. Worry entered his voice. “I dunno, son. I think we should leave and torch it. Entering a monster’s dungeon? Isn’t like a cliché for dumb teenagers?”

“Probably.” He raised his voice. “Do you want to talk about this?”

“What is there to say?” Two voices asked. They came from opposite sides of the basement. “I need your body. You got me.”

Lawrence swiveled the mirror, but he saw nothing. The basement was bare. Plenty of devices against the walls, most occupied. But little or no places to hide. He tilted the tube enough to see the ceiling. Nothing. True Seeing revealed nothing.

“Why not Lily? She’s young and corrupt. I’m pretty pure. Without high corruption, trying to possess me outside of a dream is gonna be a nightmare for you.”

“She’s a woman. Would you rather spend eternity in the body of a man’s squeeze toy, or a man?”

“All I know is you’d be able to have an answer to the age-old question. Who has better orgasms.”

“Stupid boy. Everyone knows women do.”

“Lawrence,” Cosmic Creepers tugged his shirt. “I have a bad feeling. We should go.”

“Is that a clone in that box?”

“Does it matter? You’ll soon by mine.”

“Just saying. You can clone yourself and upload your own mind to it.”

“…What if I desire a change?”

Lawrence swallowed.

“Yes.” Winter’s voice was oil-smooth. “Now you see. Much of my power will transfer with me. After I take your body my iliaster requirements will be lessened. When I level up I can take a Skill to increase iliaster regeneration. With time, I can enter the mortal world again. You understand.”

Lawrence stood. He backed away from the basement. He slowly turned away. He expected to find Winter standing behind. Instead there was only Cosmic, looking every bit as terrified as Lawrence felt. Lawrence jerked his head.

“Run,” Lawrence whispered. Cosmic Creepers bolted for the front door.

“Yes.” Winter’s harsh, barking laugh followed them out of the house. “Run for your life. Run as far as you can, as fast as you can. You cannot escape.”

Lawrence bolted out of the house on the llama’s heels. He sprinted for the quad. He found the students on the grass. Weatherly nursed a bruised jaw. Lawrence collapsed next to the students.

“Young man. I say, young man. You have some nerve coming back here after this morning. If you do not leave at once, I shall have to have a word with Lord Winter about this.”

Lawrence raised his head. He gaped at the old man between gasps.

“What happened?” one of the older students asked. “Are you all right?”

“So stupid,” Cosmic Creepers moaned. “So stupid.”

“What he said.” Lawrence struggled to keep his breakfast down. “It was a trap. It smelled like a trap. It looked like a trap.”

“I told you so,” Cosmic headbutted him. He looked at the students for support. “I told him not to go in there. But did he listen? Noooo.”

“Lord Winter?” one of the students frowned. “He’s reclusive and strong, but he’s not evil.”

“He tried to possess me.” Lawrence took several deep breaths. “He tried to steal my body. His is dying. I dunno how long he’s got. His voice was coming from two different places.”

“Well, he’s got two heads.”

“No, you don’t understand. One voice came from the left side of the room. The other came from the right. His heads would have to be in two places at once.”

“Lawrence,” Cosmic moaned. “We should leave.”

“Leave and not come back.” Lawrence straightened. “Yeah. I’ll take my chances with the demons.”

“He will anticipate us,” Cosmic said. In spite of himself, he munched some grass. He spat it out. “This grass tastes horrible.”

“They grow it with iliaster. It tastes bad because it’s literally the fruit of someone’s suffering.”

Cosmic gaped at him.

“We’ll grab my stuff. Your food is up there too. We need it. Hell doesn’t have many ways to feed a llama. We’ll grab Lily on the way out.”

“She almost killed you.”

“Lily the opener almost killed you?” the older student blinked. “How did—”

“She stuck a knife in my gut when I opened my door.”

“Oh.”

“Fast Healing saved my life. It’s a rank-five ritual. Needs a few soul units to work, a will check, and a ten minute casting time. If you combine it with a hanging spell, you can keep a few on hand for emergencies. Get your Goetic Science Skill to level five, and it’s one of the rituals you unlock.”

“You should be the one teaching us.”

“I’m not much good at teaching.” Lawrence turned away for some privacy. He bent double and vomited. He spat. He wiped his mouth on his robes. He took some deep breaths. He straightened up. A two-headed bird stood in Winter’s doorway.

“We must leave,” Cosmic cried. “Run Lawrence. Run—I’ll hold him—wait, what are you doing?”

Lawrence marched across the quad.

“Lawrence,” Cosmic Creepers screamed. “No. You’re no match for him. Get back here.”

“So this is the end?” Winter asked. The corners of his bird mouths lifted as he smiled. He puffed himself up. “Any last words?”

“Hellfire,” Lawrence gestured. A blast of fire exploded across Winter’s chest. Part of his iliaster burned along with his feathers. He raised a wing to launch his own spell. Lawrence drew his sidearm. He broke stride into an isosceles stance. He wrapped both hands around his weapon. He fired all eight of his bullets into Winter’s chest. The bird screamed.

Winter flapped as the bullets tore through his ribcage. He made iliaster.

“Fast Healing. Hah. Your own trick used—AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH.”

The demon fell backward. He writhed on the ground. He clawed at his chest. A horrible screeching filled the quad as Winter suffered. Lawrence loaded his second to last magazine. He swapped his sidearm for his sword. He hacked Winter’s heads off. The body died.

“He’s dead?” the students, the professor, and Cosmic stared at the bloody corpse.

“Nope.” Lawrence walked back to them. “The copy is. No ice powers. It had his biology and his memories. Maybe a few of his rituals. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t smart enough to realize the bullets must be removed before healing potions or spells are applied.”

“Where’s the real thing?”

“In the basement, gorging on iliaster from dozens of damned.”

“Let him stay there,” Weatherly said. “He wants you. You’ve been nothing but trouble since you arrived, young man. I want you gone. Out.” He pointed at the exit.

Lawrence raised his eyebrows. He looked at Weather, waiting.

“Is that it? What if I don’t go? What are you gonna do about it?” he taunted.

“I’ll….” Weatherly trailed. He saw all the students looking at him. “Get out of my class.”

“Or what?” Lawrence taunted. “You gonna call security?”

Weatherly’s face colored. “You know nothing about magic.”

“I know you can’t cast an exorcism spell to save your life. I know you don’t know the ritual of immortality.”

“Do you know the ritual of immortality, Lawrence?” one of the students asked.

“There’s like four different kinds of immortality.”

“You didn’t say you did,” Weatherly pointed out.

“You didn’t even know there were multiple kinds,” Lawrence retorted. “Enough. This is getting us nowhere. Look. Guys. Winter needs to die. If he doesn’t come for me, he’s gonna come for one of you. I can kill him, I just need some help pinning him down. He’s not immune to bullets.”

The group made a collective sniff. Everyone avoided meeting his eyes. Lawrence looked at Weatherly. The man’s expression made Lawrence want to break his face.

“You have a chance at becoming something great. Winter has an artificer’s workshop and an alchemy lab. I saw a potion of Ageless Immortality on a shelf.”

“Did you steal it?” somebody asked.

“No. Why?”

“No reason.” The guy shook his head.

Lawrence felt his credibility draining. Cosmic Creepers tugged his shirt.

“Come on Lawrence,” Cosmic said, quiet. When Lawrence didn’t respond, the llama stepped around him. Cosmic shoved Lawrence with his neck. The group laughed.

“Fuck off,” Lawrence yelled at the others. They just laughed. “Assholes,” Lawrence summoned hellfire. The laughing stopped. Fear crawled across their faces. Lawrence thought it tasted delicious.

“Lawrence,” Cosmic begged. “Please.”

Lawrence let Cosmic push him across the quad. He kept glaring at the students. They did not laugh. Weatherly’s expression did not change.

“I could have taken them,” Lawrence declaimed.

“You would have killed them.” Cosmic pushed with more force. “Let’s get going. Everyone is the hero of their own story.”

“Winter’s not a hero. He’s just a villain.”

“He’s you, isn’t he? A dark version of yourself, if you gave in to your urges.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have ‘urges.’ I dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Keep walking.” Cosmic pushed Lawrence inside the dorm. Lawrence re-hung the spell. He tried Mr. Lesniak’s breathing technique. It made it him angrier. Lawrence entered his room. Cosmic Creepers lowered his head to eat. He ordered, “Start packing.”

Lawrence did not pack. He stood in his room for twenty minutes fuming. He got angrier and angrier. He paced back and forth like a caged lion. He kept going over the scene in his head. After twenty minutes of thinking, he had some good zingers.

He knew the basement was a trap. Part of him wanted to go back there and finish the job. Battling a demon-sorcerer in his own dungeon was not wise, but Lawrence was not a student. He had bullets and purity. Purity gave him an inherent resistance to corruption. The main thing to worry about was Winter’s will. His overwhelming, ocean-sized ego and the plunging wave of willpower no man could surf.

Like any boss battle, all he needed was a tank to draw attention. But none of those idiots outside had the slightest idea how to fight. None of them had magical talent. None of them knew a single ritual. The masters? Weatherly was a crusty old buffoon and a judgmental jerkoff. As for the others?

Senile. Drama-obsessed. Work-obsessed. And one supported by Thug Swarm. In hindsight, Lawrence thought the other masters would have had an opinion. Perhaps they knew what was good for them. Lawrence shook his head. If only he had Access, then he could show them all.

What then? He couldn’t stay. Where could he go? Blood Well’s little fort was the obvious answer, but it was too close. The free cities. The mythical Tenth Circle. Lawrence focused on his mom’s information. Research. Learning. Levelling. He’d leave. He’d get strong. And he’d return at the end of his journey. He’d curbstomp Winter and Weatherly. He’d make the school into a shining example of what a true school for faustians meant.

Heck, while he was at it, he could go home and build a bigger, better school. A school for real magic. He hated teaching. He liked magic and making things. He could build a school and find someone else to teach.

Actually, the idea sounded rather paradoxical. Building a school involved teaching. Okay, if he wasn’t going to teach, what could he do? What were his gifts? Lawrence took a deep breath. He wanted to make enchanted cloth armor out of spider silk. The weight of cotton, the protective qualities of chainmail.

Okay. Therefore, the quickest way to get web spinning abilities was to get a Skill… which he could not. He could gain Corruption and then a random Mutation Skill… but then his soul would be damned. To get the one he needed he’d have to level up his species class to level five, then choose Mutation Skill Selection. It was exclusive to one specific Company; he’d need a basic membership to get it. Once he did, at level ten or Corruption 50, he could choose which Skill he took.

He shook his head. The process meant damnation. He needed to remain pure so he could escape Hell. Regular Purify rituals would help, but the bulk would come from morally good actions. Corruption resulted from sinful, evil actions. Regardless of what happened, everything hinged on getting Access. He needed to complete the Trials of Levelling. Therefore, he needed to find his people in the Free Cities or the Tenth Circle.

Lily and Kyri would know how to find the Free Cities. Both where they were located and how best to get there. Dis was the biggest city. It was on the Fifth under siege by the Bloody. Perhaps Lawrence could go there using Blood Well as a trojan, break the siege or at least damage it, and gain entrance. Dis had a major port and several well-traveled trade routes.

He was agreed. Destination: Dis. Lawrence would need a gaggle of adventurers to keep him safe. More than followers, they must be four to six maladjusted nomads with an unhealthy attachment to cheap alcohol and violence.

Lily, Kyri, Gnat… He needed fighters not talkers. Well, he would find a way. Winter could have his school. Lawrence would have the world. He filled the stolen bag of holding with all his stuff. After a thought, he took the pillow and bedding set. He finished packing.

“Are we leaving?” Cosmic asked when Lawrence stored all his food.

“Yup.” Lawrence took the water bucket too. He would have taken the furniture, but the bag could not hold everything. Lawrence would have to prioritize either a bigger bag or a Skill for extra-dimensional space.

“Are we taking the girl?”

“Maybe. We’ll see.” Lawrence paused. He performed a second check. “All right, let’s go.”