This summon was unlike the previous ones. I could feel the distinction but, uncertain of its significance, I accepted it anyway. Having learned through some very painful lessons the potential consequences of refusal, I made my decision accordingly.
After the blinding light subsided, I took in my surroundings. I found myself in a cavernous passage, flanked by towering boulders. Five humanoid figures stood in the shadow near the still luminous summon circle, looking expectantly at me. One was slightly taller and fairer than the others, while the rest had darker complexions. All were smaller than me, standing at around one meter sixty or less, engaged in a low-voiced debate.
My contemplation was interrupted by a snort from behind.
"A succubus! This should be entertaining. Are you planning to seduce everybody into submission?"
I turned to the voice and saw a red-skinned demon sneering at me—a bipedal, horned creature resembling a hybrid of a troll and an orc, with a tail that whipped like a serpent. Clad in tattered leather with two long daggers at its belt, it spoke in a strange guttural language, yet strangely, I understood it fluently. I assessed its power: 'lesser demon, rogue, level twenty-three.'
While the humanoids debated, the demon continued to provoke.
"Why did you accept the summon if you knew this wasn't your forte, you foolish wench?"
The verbal assault caught me off guard.
“Should I refuse a summon and get the backlash? I'm not that stupid!” I protested.
His eyes widened in surprise, then he chuckled.
“You're even stupider than you look!” he said. “From which one of Ha'Des' holes did you crawl out? You don't refuse a summon, stupid cunt; you just pass it over if you don't like it! Are you a wild demon to not know this?”
His answer struck me, changing everything I knew about summons. Thousands of questions swirled in my head, but before I could clarify anything, I felt the compulsion to spring into action. Two rat-like creatures appeared at the end of the corridor, and even though I didn't want to, I started running towards them.
I tried to fight the compulsion as the red demon dissolved into some kind of fog before my eyes. What did that mean? As I resisted, the compulsion became stronger, and reluctantly, I went forward—barefoot, dressed only in shorts and an undershirt—towards the two ratmen.
The two ratmen slowed their advance and raised their pickaxes. As I approached, I identified them: ratman, miner, level twenty-two, and ratman, miner, level twenty-five. Their levels were lower than mine, which offered some comfort, but even so, those pickaxes could prematurely end my career as a summoned being.
I wondered if I was the expendable demon for some dungeon delving team. Was this real or a bad dream?
As the ratmen closed in, I tried to step back, but the compulsion was too strong. Panic gripped me as I realized my movements were limited.
Unable to step back, I jumped toward the nearest ratman, grabbing his raised pickaxe before he could swing it. He bit my arm as the other ratman swung his pickaxe.
I clumsily parried it with the one in my hands, even if the other ratman was still partially holding it, but as my movement was slowed down by his struggle a couple of my right hand's fingers got crushed in the action as the other pickaxe glanced mine.
I screamed in pain but managed to hold the pickaxe, hitting the first ratman hard with my knee, sending him rolling backward.
I then engaged the second ratman with a couple of hard strikes with the pickaxe. The ratman struck back, and I was relieved to see that the compulsion no longer stopped me from stepping backward. With a fast swipe to the left, holding my pickaxe with both hands, I blocked the other pickaxe against the wall, crushing the ratman's fingers in the process. With a quick push against the pickaxe with my left hand, I hit the ratman over the snout. He dropped his pickaxe from his wounded hand and turned to run away.
The other ratman was already on the run, but the red demon suddenly materialized from the shadows and struck him lightning-fast with his daggers, almost decapitating him. The ratman fell with a pained gurgle, mortally wounded, but 'my' ratman was now on the demon, claws and teeth at the ready, fighting desperately to escape. The demon stepped backward but engaged the ratman, slowing him down, and so I caught him with a hit in the back with my pickaxe. It penetrated the skin deep along the ratman's neck, blood erupting from the wound, spraying all over me, and the ratman fell backward with an almost endearing squeal.
With a fast dagger stab to the heart, the red demon ended its misery, then raised his red eyes, looking slantwise at me. “You're not as useless as you look!” he said, chuckling. I snorted, cleaning the blood from my face with the back of my hand, but before I could say anything, another group of five or six ratmen came around the corner.
Desperation started to grip my heart, my right hand trembling from pain—both from the bite wound and the two crushed fingers. However, a strange calming wave came over me. Was this another manipulation from my summoner? Trying to come to terms with all these new variables, I took in a deep breath. I felt calmer and more steadfast!
The red demon dissolved into the air almost instantly, and I caught more of the action now. I saw the magic forming runes around his body, and I thought I recognized them. Why did they have that familiar look to me?
He moved toward the shadowier side of the corridor, simultaneously transcending his body into the ethereal plane, transforming into some kind of ghost, his form becoming loose. I could still follow for a couple of seconds how traces of him, like brown fumes, were moving through the shadows toward the ratmen's group. Was this the shadowmeld ability?
I didn't have the time to examine it as I felt the compulsion to attack the group. Oh, for heaven's sake, am I to be the tank of the group, barefoot, sporting my shorts and an undershirt? They could have at least given me some armor!
Blood was running down my right biceps from the bite wound as I clumsily picked up the second pickaxe and retired a couple of steps, readying myself for the fight. What are those five humanoids doing? Are they waiting for me to exterminate the ratmen alone?
I tried to glance in their direction but could not see them; they must have hidden in the shadows.
Four of the ratmen were on me, three armed with pickaxes and one with a sword and a shield. A fifth had advanced along the opposite wall and was pointing something at me, while the sixth was trying to run away, or maybe was sent to report the situation.
The twang of a crossbow surprised me, but my left hand acted out in reflex, and the pickaxe collided with the bolt before it struck, deflecting it. That had been a good reflex with a shitload of luck on my side.
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My mind was working feverishly trying to think what to do. Would Cala's spells work for me? I was no longer that sure that I was Cala, but at least I theoretically knew all her spells. The question was if with my diminished power I was able to cast any of them.
As I made another step backward, I tried to concentrate on her speed spell.
<
It worked, and I attacked.
I was moving 'only' at about double speed, but that was still a huge boon.
I could stave off their attacks and even push back a little. I was on the offensive for the next twenty to thirty seconds, but I did not manage to eliminate or badly wound any of them, and as soon as the spell faded, I got hit and hit hard.
First, it was a pickaxe stroke in my right biceps, exactly over the bite wound, a hit that made me yell in pain.
The coming sword stab to my belly made me stumble backward.
As I retreated, a crossbow bolt hit my left thigh. I fell on my back and thought that this was my end, but the closest attacker crumbled on its feet, hit by several spells.
As I rolled backward, I saw them hesitating. Only now did they see the other humanoids from our group, but it was already too late. Some curses, or other slow-timed spells must have been working on them, weakening them.
A fire spell blasted one of them while the third was struck and killed by an explosive arrow.
The shield-bearer hesitated between attacking the humanoids or trying to finish me off, while I clumsily made efforts to stand back up.
The crossbow rat yelled, and he turned towards him just to see how it was finished by the red demon. Before he could turn back to me, I struck him with the pickaxe, at the same time as he was hit by another arrow and a fireball. He still parried the arrow with his shield, but he was already badly wounded from my hit, and the fireball finished him.
As the fight ended I fell back on my ass with a sigh. I was still surprisingly calm, even though I was just a bloodied heap sitting on the flat stones. I looked at the red demon who was approaching me in a slow gait, looking at me with those red eyes completely lacking any compassion. Damn, I was badly wounded, and he was grinning, satisfied.
“You took your time!” I grumbled while attempting to extricate the bolt from my thigh with my fingers. It didn't work, but luckily, I had a pair of pliers from my bike toolkit in my inventory.
There was no way I could continue to fight in my current state. I was a bloodied mess, and yet, I was surprised by my own pain tolerance. Was this due to some spell from the summoner or a trait of my demonic being?
I wondered what I should do. Could I end the summon? But how? I had no intention of dying in this dungeon, but I was unsure how to proceed.
The red demon came towards me and shrugged.
“I go and attack where my summoner asks me to go...”
Right, he was probably under the same compulsion control as me.
“How...” I was just about to ask him how I could end the summon when I saw the summoner approaching. Maybe I should talk directly to her?
She looked at me as I finally got the crossbow bolt out of my thigh. She resembled a catgirl, wearing something like a blue dress made of satin. It extended in front and on the sides down to her knees but was divided at the back and knotted above her long bushy tail, raised like a question mark above her backside which was covered with fluffy trousers. A cleavage allowed the eye to glance at two small breasts covered by the dress and some additional white lace.
I appraised her: warlock, level twenty-seven. Should I talk demonically to her? No, that can't be right...
"Can't you heal yourself?" she asked, pointing at the dead ratmen.
She spoke in a chanted language that resembled the meows of cats, and I was shocked to realize that I understood her. Watching her with confusion, I wondered if I had understood her correctly.
"Absorb their essence to heal yourself?" the red demon translated into demonish for me.
"How should that work? They are dead," I protested, answering him in demonish.
Since when did I know this language? It was demonish, a language I had never spoken, and yet I spoke it fluently.
The catgirl watched us mesmerized while the demon pointed towards one of the ratmen.
"That one is still living; you could still try to fuck him and heal yourself," he chuckled.
I snorted. I didn't need to have sex with them to pull life energy from them. I didn't even need to kiss them; I only needed to touch them. But would touching them with mana not be enough? My leg was badly hurt from that crossbow bolt!
As I clumsily tried to stand, I looked at the still-living ratman and wished to 'suck' his life. If I could only get there, I would be able to do it! My mana established the link, and before I even stood up, I began to feel the healing, my wounds closing slowly. The bleeding stopped, and the deeper wounds closed.
It was the first time ever I had used my life-draining ability at a distance. It surprised me as much as it surprised the others that it worked. The targeted ratman crumbled slowly into himself and dissolved into some kind of dust.
"You're no fucking succubus! What the shit are you?" the red demon said.
I hesitated, looking dumbfounded at him. Yeah, what was I? I thought I was a succubus.
As I was still not fully healed, the catgirl gave me a small emerald. "Use this when you need healing; it is captured essence!" she said.
"Don't waste your healing stones on the demon, you stupid warlock!" one of the other humanoids said. They were weasel-like characters and started an animated contradictory discussion on the theme.
I watched the red demon with a questioning look, holding the little gem in my hand.
"Chew on it when you need healing," he explained.
As I was still not fully healed, I decided to give it a try. Indeed, the gem did work, and I gladly saw how my wounds healed as if watching a film in rewind.
Standing there, fully healed and contemplating my next move, I hesitated again on whether to ask to end the summon. But then I thought, when would I get such a good occasion to talk to a demon and my summoner? She looked kind and approachable, and the demon seemed to know a lot of things I had no clue about.
I took a deep breath. Was it worth risking my life? But when would I ever get such a chance?
As I remained silent, the catgirl went back towards the four weaselpersons, and they were now feverishly debating something. It looked like we were approaching a major chamber in the dungeon, confirming my assumptions: we were in a dungeon. I decided to use the time to try to glean more information from my demon 'partner' while searching my inventory for something more appropriate to wear for the upcoming fight.
I did have one of Cala's leather suits in my inventory, but there was a small issue with using it. It was designed for levels above ninety and required a body with that level to function properly. As my body contained much less mana, the suit's defenses were that much decreased, but the repair costs would remain the same.
That meant I would be using it as a level twenty suit, taking damage as a level twenty suit, but having to pay repairs for a level ninety suit. While this particular suit shouldn't need repair due to its auto-repair function, I was unsure how well it would work on Earth, given the low mana environment. All in all, not an ideal situation, but staying in my shorts or dressing in a simple training suit might be even suicidal, so I decided to put it on.
“Can you end the summon if you want to?” I asked the red demon while putting on my trousers.
He didn't answer my question, his eyes round, looking shocked at the items I had just brought 'out of thin air'.
“Did your supervisor grant you an inventory?” he asked, dumbfounded.