CHAPTER 9 : TARTARUS

It was during the early morning of the next day. Four of the ‘Six Servants’ had already arrived in Athedon, the capital city of Olymzeus.

Meanwhile on the outskirts of the city, seven high ranking officers of the beastmen army were kept as security to guard the prison of Tartarus. Its structure was a testament to the dark craftsmanship of the Beastmen. Its walls rose high and impenetrable, etched with scenes of suffering and despair. Jagged spikes adorned its perimeter, serving as a grim warning to any who dared approach. But it was not just the physical structure that kept Tartarus secure. A shimmering barrier of magic encircled the prison, a barrier which neglects the use of magic inside the prison. Even if by some stroke of luck, a prisoner escaped the prison, crossing this barrier would still be a farfetched dream. In the prison, there were lots of traps. Because of this, they didn't really need any guards. Just being inside the building was as dangerous as risking their lives. Instead fifty guards were kept outside the barrier that surrounded the entire building.

Ashwa was kept in the third floor of the prison. After being unconscious this whole time, Ashwa's eyelids finally fluttered open, revealing the dim expanse of the cell around him. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly with shackles, with a strange white glow to it, chafing against his skin.

The cell itself was devoid of any comforts, its walls bare and unyielding. An iron door guarded the cell, locking him completely from outside. There was a sense of foreboding that hung in the air, casting a shadow over the cramped space.

"So you're finally up, huh?" Ashwa groggily blinked his eyes.

"Is that you, demon?" he asked, turning his head to search for the source of the voice. "Where are you? I can't see you."

"Oh, I'm inside you. Hehehe. Oops, that sounds wrong," the demon's voice echoed in Ashwa's mind.

"Is it just me, or have your speech patterns kinda changed?" Ashwa remarked, confusion evident in his tone.

"What? You don’t like it? bro?" the demon replied, the words rolling off Ashwa's tongue in a way that felt strangely unfamiliar.

"What the- I am not your bro. Demon. Hmph!" Ashwa pouted eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. However, this was only the second time he genuinely felt a deep connection with someone. So he didn’t mind it at all.

"Aww! You are such a tsundere. You know I can totally read your mind now. Hehehe.” The demon chuckled.

“You see while you were out cold, I brushed up on human lingo. Gotta stay updated, you know?" the demon explained cheerfully.

"And did you learn it... from my memories?" Ashwa questioned.

"Yeah, totally. Before, just caught bits of your history. But after our handshake? Level up. Memories flooding in like whoa." the demon's voice rang out.

"I thought that was a dream," Ashwa admitted, feeling a sense of unease settle in his chest.

"Well, duh, it was. So, like, when you shook my hand and surrendered to me, our souls became one. So in a way, if I wanted, I could have devoured your soul and taken over your body and mind forever," the demon smirked, his words sending a shiver down Ashwa's spine. "But you know me, I don't wanna take anyone's freedom."

"So what’s the catch?" Ashwa repeated, trying to process the gravity of the situation.

"Well it’s simple, you get my strength and abilities. In return, I get to experience your feelings and memories. It's like that internet meme I saw in your memory. Haha," the demon chuckled darkly, its presence looming ominously in Ashwa's mind.

“So you saw everything huh?” Ashwa sighed.

"Yeah, I saw you copying in high school, having that pants incident in middle school, even the first solo flight, bro."

“ENOUGH!” Ashwa shouted, his cheeks flushing crimson as he looked down, clearly embarrassed by the words that had been uttered.

“Ahem, so how do we get outta here?” Ashwa said, his voice strained as he tried to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic at hand.

"Okay, so this spot's kinda sus. And these shackles on your wrists seem basic, but that glow? Total adamantium vibes. That’s like the OG of tough metals." The demon remarked before adding " I'm feeling some vibes like there's a major magic lockdown in play. Could be, like, a whole magical barrier situation."

“So it’s impossible huh?” Ashwa sighed, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

“Chin up dude. I never said we can’t. You just need to endure a little pain.” the demon reassured, a hint of determination in his voice.

“Little pain?” Ashwa asked skeptically, his brow furrowing as he contemplated the demon's words.

"Yeah, in this lame prison, magic's a no-go. But honestly, who needs it anyway?"Top of Form the demon smiled before continuing, "So, like, your body might look basic, but thanks to yours truly, you've got some sick genetic upgrades. You're basically a powerhouse now with mad strength and regeneration. So, if you're down to ditch these lame shackles, just yank your wrist and bust out. You've got the juice to tear yourself free." the demon said, inspiring confidence.

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"But tthat will hurt like crazy!" Ashwa exclaimed.

"Okay, Ashwa, check it: everything's got its ups and downs, ya know? Yeah, it might sting a bit, but if we wanna reach that perfect world we're after, we gotta push through some tough stuff. No pain, no gain, right? So, what's it gonna be? You gonna stick with the same old, or are you gonna level up? It's on you, dude." the demon smirked, as if already knowing Ashwa's decision.

Ashwa stared at his naked body, admiring the newfound strength rippling through his muscles. With a determined exhale, he dragged both of his wrists. "RAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" he screamed with all his might, feeling the strain as his wrists threatened to tear from the unyielding shackles. In the past, he would never have even considered such a drastic move. But now, with a clear purpose driving him forward, Ashwa was filled with resolve. Despite the searing pain, he shifted his left leg forward, channeling every ounce of his newfound strength to wrench his right wrist free from the shackle, tearing it away completely.

Within a fraction of second, cells divided and multiplied, knitting together bone and tissue with remarkable efficiency. Ashwa felt a glimmer of relief and comfort as his right hand returned to its original state.

He used his newly freed right hand to grab and pull his left wrist, bracing himself for the painful impact that was sure to follow. With a guttural roar echoing through the confines of his prison, he tore free his left wrist.

After regenerating his now freed left hand, his focus intensified as he turned his attention to his captive legs. Drawing upon the same unwavering resolve that had propelled him thus far, he methodically applied the same strategy, employing leverage and brute force to break free from the shackles that bound him.

"Ah, finally!" Ashwa sighed in satisfaction as he found himself no longer shackled. He approached the iron door that secured his prison cell. Initially, he had struggled to free himself from the shackles, given that they were made of adamantium. However, these iron bars were a breeze. Gripping them firmly, he pulled in opposite directions, effortlessly breaking the iron door completely.

Ashwa emerged from his cell with a relaxed demeanor, the demon's warning echoing in his mind, "Yo, watch out, this floor's like, trap city. Gotta be careful, even if you can regenerate, pain's still a thing, you know? Let's find those stairs."Top of Form Ashwa nodded. With the demon's guidance, he moved cautiously and steadily. Sometimes he sidestepped traps effortlessly, while other times he grimaced in pain from brutal injuries. But that didn't matter, as he knew he could regenerate easily. After a while, he found the stairs, leading him down to the second floor.

As Ashwa stepped down the second floor, a wave of excitement rippled through the dimly lit corridor. The other inmates caught sight of him and their cells erupted with noise. Whispers of anticipation and muttered threats filled the air as they pressed against the bars, their eyes glinting with a dangerous hunger for freedom. Each one seemed to exude an aura of menace, their muscles tensed and their expressions hardened, as if ready to pounce at any moment.

“Is that a human? This is the first time I am seeing one in person.” One voice pierced the air, dripping with curiosity.

A raucous burst of laughter erupted from another cell, accompanied by a derisive taunt, “Put some clothes on, you pervert! Hahaha!”

Another inmate chimed in, his tone laced with disdain, “What's a puny brat like you doing in this place, huh?”

A chorus of mocking jeers followed, as one voice mocked, “Probably got caught stealing candies from a store. Ahahaha!” The laughter swelled, a cacophony of scorn echoing down the corridor.

As Ashwa strolled down the corridor, an air of nonchalance enveloping him, he casually tucked his hands behind his head. Yet, amidst the clamor, one voice cut through the chaos, piquing his interest.

“Hey, kid, help me bust out of this joint, and I'll make it worth your while. Money's no object,” a voice called out, laced with desperation and a hint of urgency.

As Ashwa approached his cell, a subtle glimmer of amusement danced in his eyes. There stood a beastman, nearly matching his height, with sharp and pointed features reminiscent of a rat. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scrutinized Ashwa with a perpetual air of skepticism. Tufts of wiry hair sprouted from his cheeks, resembling whiskers, while his thin lips curved into a smirk that hinted at hidden motives.

His name was Musgul, a high-ranking noble deeply entrenched in the underworld. He was involved in various forms of corruption, from extorting land to exploiting females for labor and sexual activities. But none of these offenses landed him in his current predicament.

Over the years, he had engaged in numerous illicit activities, one of which was the smuggling of adamantium. This rare metal, known as the toughest in Olymzeus, held great value among the beastmen army. It was utilized in crafting swords, shields, and even carts for high-ranking soldiers, serving as a symbol of strength and security in battle. Consequently, it was among the most prized possessions in Olymzeus.

However, a clandestine underworld organization known as ‘Dethrone’ was involved in smuggling adamantium to Patala, clandestinely providing devils with the beastmen's most valuable weapon. The leader of this organization remained shrouded in mystery, their identity and voice unknown to all.

Musgul was linked to this organization, secretly producing and supplying adamantium for a hefty sum of money. Unfortunately, he was caught red-handed by Lanagon, one of the ‘Six Servants,’ leading to his current incarceration.

Without wasting any time, Ashwa broke Musgul’s prison cell using the strength of his bare hands, just as he freed himself before. The entire prison, including Musgul, stood in dumbfounded disbelief.

“Did you see that?” one prisoner exclaimed.

“No way! He just broke out using only his bare hands!” another shouted.

“How can this kid be so strong?” another voice joined in.

“No way, that should have been me. Free me, damn it!” yet another prisoner clamored.

Musgul couldn’t contain his smile and emerged from his cell. “Impressive display, kid. Thank you for the assistance. Let’s leave this place for my mansion. Once we're out, I'll reward you with wealth beyond your wildest dreams.”

As if I'd comply. Once I'm back at my mansion, I'll instruct my butler to poison his meal. He's merely a human, after all. Kekeke, Musgul chuckled to himself, his thoughts veiled in treachery.

But Ashwa's gaze remained fixed on Musgul's somber attire, as if everything the nobleman was saying held no meaning for him. Despite its tattered state, Musgul's cloak still exuded an air of elegance, clinging to him like a shadow.

Ashwa glanced at his own naked body for a moment before returning his focus to Musgul's cloak. His mouth opened slightly before forming into a gentle smile. "Nice clothes," he smirked.

CHAPTER 9 END