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Chapter 6:

I twisted in mid-air, aiming for the cobblestone street below. The portal yanked me sideways, while gravity pulled me downward. My claws scraped across the stones, finally finding a grip. Stones and debris bounced around as I clung to the steep slope, the ground loosening beneath my hands. I risked a glance downward—if it could even be called down—and immediately regretted it. The portal, a fiery black void the size of a backyard pool, hung in the air, slicing through the street like a malevolent wound. Far below, the burning plains of Sheol teemed with thousands of tiny, ant-like figures. My heart pounded as I tore my gaze away.

Shouldn’t have looked down, I thought. I should not have looked down.

Ren: Carl, a little help!

Carl: Hang on!

Ren: What the fuck do you think I’m doing?

From the corner of my eye, I saw Quan fly through the air at Carl, seemingly unaffected by the portal's pull. Carl hurled an object at Quan. It splashed against his face like a water balloon and then set him on fire. Gold-white flames erupted over Quan’s body. He fell to the ground, screaming and writhing in a poorly executed stop-drop-and-roll.

A sharp pain erupted from my back as one of my slug pox pustules ruptured and I jerked, dislodging the stones beneath my hands. In a blind panic, I scrambled, dragging myself backward across the street. I dug my claws into the ground and found purchase.

Ren: Carl, hurry up!

Carl: I’m throwing Samantha to you. You need to catch her!

Ren: How? I don’t have a free hand right now!

Carl: Use your mouth! Just like before.

Samantha: Better pucker up!

Carl, several meters away, drew back and hurled Samantha toward me. I watched in horror as her head spun to face me, mouth wide open.

No, no, no, I thought, but I had no choice. I caught the doll head in my jaws and lost my grip because of the sudden, startling sensation of Samantha’s rubbery tongue in my throat. For a split second, we tumbled together, then Samantha’s teleportation wrenched us through space, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist. Carl held tight, his feet sticking to the tops of the massive gravestones, using some skill to counter the portal’s pull.

I yanked Samantha out of my mouth and growled at her.

“What the hell, Samantha”, I snarled.

“Oh? Did I steal your first kiss”, Samantha said smugly.

“I’ve been in a relationship before!"

“Not in that body you haven’t,” said Samantha. I was about to chuck the doll head, but Carl interrupted.

"Ren, grab onto me. Samantha, hold onto Ren!" Carl shouted.

"You got it, boss," said Samantha, twisting out of my grip and biting down on my tail.

I yelped and tried to reach for her.

"Damnit, Ren, you’re slippery as hell”, Carl sounded frustrated. “Stop squirming and grab hold."

Carl adjusted his grip, maneuvering me until I was riding piggyback. He climbed hurriedly over graves and ruined buildings until we were far enough from the portal that its pull was negligible. He let me down, and I had to peel myself off him.

Carl and I bolted from the town square. I could outpace him but let him take the lead. It was a sensible choice given his superior trap detection skills, but my real motive was keeping myself between him and Quan. If Quan caught up, I wanted to be the first line of defense and my Canine Instinct needed Carl close to properly alert me to any sneak attacks.

“What did you throw at Quan?” I asked, panting.

“Holy water grenades,” Carl replied. “They work great on the undead, but only inconvenience a demon—sort of like mace. I don't know if they'll be enough to kill one. We need to get back to the guild and prepare something stronger.”

We turned toward the central plaza, but a writhing mass of sluggalos blocked our path. We detoured through a narrow side street, but more slugs poured in from all sides.

"Give me one of the accelerants," I ordered. With my inventory locked down by card combat, I had given Carl some of my items to carry. He produced a canister resembling a small propane cylinder and tossed it to me. I quickly attached it to Velma’s barrel and spread the napalm-like accelerant behind us.

The mixture ignited, flames engulfing the sluggalos and scattering them in a panicked frenzy. I redirected Velma down the way we came. Flames roared to life, creating a temporary barrier and cutting off pursuit. Carl tossed an explosive into the group ahead, blowing a hole. I followed up with Velma, burning a path.

Carl and I ran, leaping over the charred remains of the sluggalos that had blocked our path, heading toward the saferoom.

My Canine Instinct buzzed, and my heart skipped a beat. This time, I was ready. I had been tracking Quan’s marker on the map, anticipating his attack. With lightning reflexes, I tore the bag of ball bearings from my belt and hurled them at the marker in the air above us. The bearings scattered, and one struck the red energy bolt Quan had just fired at Carl, triggering Stasis prematurely above our heads.

I raised Velma and unleashed a line of fire at Quan. He made no attempt to evade, letting the flames engulf him. The absence of the shimmering light of his shields was noticeable. Either we had already broken them, or he wasn’t using them. Yet, he shrugged off the flames as if they weren’t there. Quan landed ahead, blocking our path. I stepped between him and Carl, continuing to bathe him in Velma’s fire, though it seemed to have no effect.

“Save your fuel”, Carl shouted, “he’s a demon now. They’re immune to fire.

“That’s right, Girly, I shower in brimstone hotter than this," Quan said in his oddly British voice.

No, not Quan, I thought, this is the demon talking. Papilio.

"Is that why you smell like rotten eggs?" I shot back, keeping my eyes on him. I reached for my handaxe and found the holster empty—damn. I hadn’t replaced it because my inventory was still locked down by card combat.

Papilio opened his mouth to say something but ducked as Carl hurled another holy water grenade at him. He dodged it, only to catch a bangersphere in the face, thrown from Carl’s offhand. I heard his nose break with a satisfying crunch. Blood poured from his nose as he fell to the ground. Papilio may be in control, but I sure hoped Quan felt that.

Carl: Ren, use your totems, I’ll drop a smoke curtain and we get to the saferoom before he reorients.

“I think not, Mr. Carl!” Papilio snapped, flicking his hand and scattering droplets of blood behind him. They erupted in dark red flames as they struck the ground. The fire reeked of sulfur and surged outward with supernatural speed, blocking our path to the saferoom.

“Hey,” I shouted, “That’s my shtick.”

Velma: The blood is a nice touch, I must admit.

Carl: We stick with the plan. But don’t get near those flames. It’s Sheol fire.

"I can see why my client wants you dead so vehemently," Papilio said, holding his bleeding nose. "You are quite infuriating." He cupped his hand, gathering blood, and summoned a fireball made of the same hellish flame.

"I will make this quick, but certainly not painless," he said. Carl threw a smoke curtain, engulfing Papilio in a thick gray cloud. Carl bolted left, and I was about to bolt right when my Canine Instinct triggered again.

“Carl! Get down!” I yelled.

I dashed left, placing myself between Carl and the fireball Papilio threw with lethal precision. The smokescreen hadn’t worked, and Papilio had still been able to target Carl. But I was faster and caught the fireball in my chest.

I hadn’t considered the implications of Sheol fire, and I didn’t have my fire potion protection. The hellish fire tore through my fire shield, shattering it. Bright orange light flared, and I heard the sound of breaking glass. My body glowed like heated metal as the fire rolled over me.

The slime and gore covering me vaporized, leaving only my equipment intact, protected by my overcharged protection. The ground beneath me turned to ash. I fell into the smoking hole the fire had eaten away, engulfed me in a cloud of ash and soot. The crater was V-shaped, deflecting the blast and leaving Carl on the street above, unharmed.

“Well, that is one down,” I heard Papilio say as he approached the smoking hole, apparently unaware I had survived. “How about we try this again?”

How about you pay attention to the map, I thought as I tossed a totem card past Papilio. War drums beat and trumpets blared as a holographic sandstorm whipped up in the street around us. Papilio spun in confusion.

Ren: Carl, get moving! He’ll attack everything that moves.

Carl: Who’s he?

I leapt out of the hole, grabbed Carl by his cap, and hauled him by it like a leash. Papilio saw us and turned to pursue, but a large t-rex-like dinosaur surged from the sandstorm, its jaws large enough to engulf his head and shoulders. General Yuty, a Yutyrannus Pack Leader I had captured in the Gobi Desert with the help of my late team, wore a domed helmet of polished brass and was covered head to foot in red and purple feathers. Papilio—and perhaps Quan too—screamed as the massive dinosaur hauled him up into the air, shaking him violently and then slamming his body into the ground repeatedly.

Carl and I paused to watch General Yuty tear into demon Quan, and I thought I saw his other arm go flying. I threw a Time Extend card on the dinosaur and turned back to Carl, who raised an eyebrow at me.

"He's like my own Mongo," I shrugged, "but bigger and better."

“Don’t let Donut hear you say that”

----------------------------------------

We made it back to the saferoom without further incident. The sluggalos throughout the settlement had rushed towards the chaos, allowing Carl and me to avoid them by taking a detour. Carl inspected the saferoom for traps and found a second teleport trap by the hallway entrance leading to the personal spaces and guildhall.

Quan hadn’t assaulted us further, but whatever General Yuty did to him, it hadn’t killed him. He was still on the leaderboard when we checked. The bastard just didn’t know when to die.

Carl gestured to the entrance to the guildhall. "Go ahead, it’s safe to enter. I need to grab some things from my personal space first. Mordecai and I will meet you there momentarily."

I nodded as Carl entered the door labeled “The Court of Princess Donut.” Touching the door notified me that I was still barred from entry.

Warning: No Dogs Allowed! Especially You!

How sweet, I thought sourly. Donut had customized a notification just for me.

My neck began to itch, likely another boil, as I stepped through the door labeled “Guild Safehome Yolanda.” As soon as I stepped inside, I was confronted by yet another mass of sluggalos—where the hell did they keep coming from. These weren’t as large or spiky as the lumbering thorned slugs from the ghommid settlement, but they were numerous, filling the entry hall. Leather-clad, face-painted slugs turned to me with menacing glares. My hand instinctively reached for my weapon, and the slugs did the same, brandishing the weapons attached to their bodies.

This is a saferoom, I told myself. They can’t harm you here.

We stared at each other for several moments. The silence broke when one of the boils on my neck popped, and a tiny pox slug landed on the ground. It looked more like a slimy, thorny caterpillar than a slug but had the same clownish face-paint. It barked like a rabid chihuahua and charged the sluggalos in front of me, only to be teleported away by the room’s safety measure when it tried to bite the nearest sluggalo.

The sluggalos seemed stunned by the sudden appearance and disappearance of the tiny assailant. Then they turned to me and let out a raucous cheer. Before I could react, they swarmed me.

"Let me go! Let me go!" I shouted as they pulled me into their mass. A moment later, I was crowd-surfing against my will. I struggled, flailing my limbs as I slipped over their slimy bodies.

“One of us, one of us,” they chanted.

Two slugs, the size of small cats, rode atop me, one on each shoulder, armed with paintbrushes of black and white paint. They quickly got to work.

“Hey, Slimeballs, quit messing around and let her go right now!” came a harsh voice—Elle. The sluggalos obeyed, depositing me unceremoniously at Elle’s feet with a wet splat.

I wasn’t the tallest member of the guild, not by a long shot, but I still dwarfed the diminutive Elle McGib, the guild’s second in command. Floating a foot off the ground, her sky-blue skin and white tousled hair made her look like Smurfette—albeit a version of a character who could fire an icicle through your skull with a flick of her wrist. Underestimating Elle was a mistake one made at their peril.

She looked down at me, wrinkling her nose. “I’d help you up, but I don’t want to get slimed again.”

I pushed myself to my feet, slipping on the fresh slime that coated me. “Why are there so many slugs in the guildhall?” I asked, frustration clear in my voice.

“Carl infected several of our mercenaries with slug pox. They can’t die while they remain in the training hall, so now we have a small army of these fellows. He called it a team-building exercise. Can you believe that?”

“And they obey the guild?”

“No, they mostly obey Imani. We got a mercenary with a spell that makes them allies of the guild, so they aren’t hostile towards us, but they still have a bit of an attitude problem. They seem to respect Imani though. I think it’s because she’s from Detroit. These clowns like people from Detroit. Don’t ask me why. We had to cull some of the stronger ones. They get mean at higher levels.”

Elle snickered. "Considering what they’ve done with your face, I think you made a good impression on them."

"What’s wrong with my face?" I asked, but the door to the mercenary hall opened, and Elle called out to the person exiting.

"Imani, over here! Ren’s back," she shouted.

The gaunt, skull-faced woman looked like a smoldering mummified corpse, with large, iridescent monarch butterfly wings. If it were dark, her eyes would glow. This visage was made all the more intimidating by the numerous player-killer skulls beside her name. Her fearsome appearance starkly contrasted with her kind and nurturing nature.

She had been a nurse before the collapse. Her team, Team Meadow Lark, were the elderly residents she had cared for at the same-named care facility. She and her late colleague Yolanda, whom the guild was named after, had brought them into the dungeon to protect them from dying of exposure. The collapse had left the residents stranded in the freezing cold. With the help of Carl and others, she had gotten many of the residents down to the third floor. There, the residents were able to change races and regain much of their lost cognitive abilities.

Imani’s skulls were the result of the showrunners and the dungeon AI being cruel. To belittle her, a kind and loving woman, they forced her to kill those she cared for and protected. I didn’t know the full story, but I knew that on the first floor she had been forced to kill several elderly residents as an act of mercy, to save them from a worse fate. Now, on this floor, she had lost her entire squad when she lost control of one of her totems. The death’s weren’t her fault, but I knew she didn’t see it that way, and it weighed heavy on her conscience.

Imani's face lit up with relief and worry as she hurried over and embraced me. I tried to warn her, "Careful, I'm covered in slime. You’ll get—"

Imani interrupted me as she pulled me into a hug. "Honey, I have been handling these guys. I’ve already gotten covered." She held me tightly, and the warmth of her embrace was comforting.

The moment was interrupted by another barking slug spawning from a boil on my leg, yipping and wriggling, with thorny antennae.

Elle and Imani jumped back, startled. Imani raised an eyebrow. "That one looks... different."

“It looks more like a caterpillar,” said Elle, “fuzzy like one too."

Imani turned a knowing eye towards me. "Is this Carl's doing?"

I shook my head. "Not directly. I accidentally ingested some of the goo from one of Quan's slugs."

At the mention of Quan, Imani's face fell, and she seemed to deflate. "I should have stood up to Quan. Fought him instead of running," she said, her voice heavy with guilt. "Maybe I could have stopped him if I had stood my ground. But I didn't. I ran, and now you and your team paid the price."

I placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to console her. "Imani, Quan would have just used the same trick on you as he did on Carl and Donut, or me. Probably worse, since you didn’t have time to prepare. Would have just been another player skull for him."

An awkward silence settled between us before Imani changed the subject. "We need to get you healed and, uh”, she gestured at my face, “washed up."

"I need to get to the Vanquisher temple to remove this slug pox," I replied, feeling the weight of exhaustion setting in. I wasn’t sure how we could make it to the temple at this point, with all the slugs and demonic Quan occupying the settlement. And we didn’t have time to siege the place with my firestorm fast approaching.

Imani shook her head. "I can remove slug pox myself."

Surprised, I asked, “Really?”

“I’m a healer. It’s what I do,” Imani answered matter-of-factually.

Well…that’s one problem solved but…

“How come Carl never said that?” I suddenly felt suspicious: had Carl lied to me? Tried somehow to trick me into going to the Temple?

“That’s because Carl is an idiot,” Imani said flatly.

I nodded. That explanation seemed more in line with what I know of Carl. In the adage of Hanlon’s razor: Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.

Not that this brought me any comfort. Our lives were in his hands and he was a dumbass.

Carl appeared with Mordecai in tow. Mordecai was a changeling whose race changed with each floor, and was currently a cyclops. This made him look and sound a bit like Patrick the Starfish from Spongebob. While this form belied—and possibly reduced—his intelligence, he was still one of the sharpest minds in the dungeon.

Carl and Mordecai paused at the sight of my face-paint. Carl suppressed a laugh, while Mordecai gawked.

"Ah, there’s our mastermind," Elle said. "You mind explaining to the rest of us what the hell is going on with Quan and Cuba?" She gestured towards the other members of the guild who I hadn’t noticed hanging on the outer edges of the main hall—none eager to wade into the throng of sluggalos. There was Louis and several other Meadow Lark crawlers whose names I didn’t remember. My friend Brittany, part of the Katia squad, was absent.

“Well, for starters,” said Carl, sobering up his expression, “Quan is being a real pain in the ass again and things have recently escalated. He has been possessed by a demon and just tried to send Ren and me to Sheol through a massive portal. Needless to say, our last attempt to stop him didn’t go as planned.”

“You can say that again,” I muttered under my breath as I tried to shake off the slug I had just spawned. It wanted to climb up me for some reason and the feeling of its slithering up leg made my skin crawl. I couldn’t swat at it lest I risked setting off one of the saferoom safety measures and I couldn’t grab it—damn thing was squirrelly.

“Hold on,” said Imani. “Quan’s possessed? But he’s still alive. How is that possible?”

Mordecai chimed in. “Demons can possess any living creature if it is weakened sufficiently, but usually a living host has to willingly accept the demon in. Quan was likely on death’s door due to his slug pox, and became desperate after Ren blew the stairwell. The demon likely used Quan’s predicament to strike a deal.”

“So that wasn’t Quan we were fighting? It was this demon, Papilio?” I said. The furry little slug had crawled to the top of Velma’s tank and was now making little gun noises instead of barking. So long as he stayed there and behaved himself, I was going to let him be.

“Yes. In the dungeon, demonic possession works like any other possession, where partial or full control is given to the possessing entity. They control the crawler’s body, and sometimes their skills and spells. They don’t typically have access to the crawler’s inventory or chat, but that is not a concrete rule.”

“So, how big a problem is this?” asked Imani. “Can’t we use the sluggalos to saturate the hell portal and send him back to Sheol? I’m guessing it’ll take more than the demons that were at the church.”

“No,” said Carl, “it only needs three, but I don’t think it can be a regular mob. While Papilio was trying to send Ren through the hell portal, I saw one of her slugs get sucked through. It didn’t change the values on the portal. Based on what Mordecai has told me, I think it has to be crawlers that fuel the portal, two of which have to be Donut and myself.”

“What makes you say that?” Imani asked. Carl gave Mordecai a look that said he should continue.

“Demons that can possess crawlers aren’t the same as regular demons, like the ones possessing zombies or other mobs. Those are lesser demons, whereas the one possessing Quan is most certainly a greater demon. Besides being stronger in every way than a lesser demon, greater demons can also form contracts, which can give them additional powers depending on the contract. Based on what Carl told me, Quan’s demon can use many of his spells and skills, and that Papilio mentioned an obligation to kill someone. I agree with Carl that Quan’s likely contracted the demon to save him from the pox and to kill the crawlers he hates most—Carl and Donut among them. Don’t know how the third is, but since he tried to kill Ren even after admitting he wasn’t obligated to, makes me think it's just an open slot.”

“So how do we kill him? Can’t Carl just nuke the whole settlement” said Elle.

“I don’t have anything big enough for that ready, and Ren’s firestorm will likely have already destroyed it by the time I do. But I’m not sure if that's guaranteed to work. I saw Ren’s totem tear Quan’s body apart, and he’s still alive”.

“Demons like this Papilio likely have ultra-fast regeneration, and Quan likely has access to it thanks to the contract. He’ll be difficult to kill so long as the contract is in effect. You either need—”

Mordecai was interrupted by a knock at the door of the guildhall entrance.

Louis, who was closest to the door, opened it. He closed the door abruptly and turned to the rest of us, pale-faced. “Uh, guys, that Quan fellow is in the saferoom.”

“He can do that? Be in the saferoom, I mean”

“Quan is still alive, so I guess he still counts as a crawler”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Louis, ask him what he wants, but don’t let him in”

Louis paled. After a moment of hesitation, Louis opened the door to speak to Quan. Well, not Quan, Papilio, in Quan’s body.

“Umm, he says he wants to talk to Carl. Say he wants to negotiate”

“What could he possibly want to negotiate?” said Carl.

“It's probably a trap” Elle responded.

“It’s still a saferoom out there” Mordecai pointed out, “so we might as well see what he wants.”

The members of the guild gathered by the door to watch the exchange. As I moved to join the group, Mordecai stopped me.

“Ren, you should let Imani take this time to heal you. Then wash up, and rest. Carl and I see what the demon wants and figure out the nature of Quan's contract,” Mordecai said firmly.

I nodded reluctantly, feeling the weight of exhaustion throughout my body. I hadn't actually rested since before my team had fought our keyholder.

Hell, that had been—what? Two, maybe three days ago?

Imani led me to a quieter corner to cast her restoration spells, warm cinders dancing from her hands with each cast. She quickly removed several of my debuffs, including the slug pox, the soothing warmth of her spells easing the aches and pains that had accumulated over the past couple of days.

"There you go," Imani said with a reassuring smile and plucked a fuzzy off my backpack. It growled at her, but she cast another spell and it mellowed out.

"Now,” Imani continued, “get yourself washed up and rest."

Imani headed back to the mercenary barracks with the slug, and I headed to my personal space, dreading what I would find. With my team gone, the shared living space was gone too, leaving me with only my room and bathroom. I still had all the modules, but the shared living space, which Khulan and I had spent much time decorating, was all back in my inventory. My individual room was spartan by comparison, a stark reminder of what I had lost.

I spent extra time in the shower, which operated like an industrial pet washer, scrubbing away the grime and memories of the day. Resting only took a few minutes, thanks to the bed upgrade Donut had bought for the guild, but I continued to lay there, staring at the blank ceiling. I was looking at my player name in my UI, at the two new player skulls by my name. Quan had killed my team, but it had been with my totems, and I was given credit for Khulan and Chulunna’s deaths.

I had dozens of achievements waiting to be read, but I didn’t want to go through them. Didn’t want to hear the gloating voice of the AI make fun of me and my failures.

So I just lay there for several minutes, staring at the skulls, until Elle messaged me.

Elle: Ren, you should come back to the main hall. Carl and Mordecai have come up with a plan that requires you, and you’re not going to like it.

Guess I’ll just stay here then. Lay here until the floor collapses.

The sentiment didn’t last long. I forced myself up and headed back to the guild hall. As I entered, I found everyone in a group huddle, deep in discussion. My eyes narrowed as I noticed Donut, the cat, amongst the group, practically preening with excitement. The group seemed angry with Carl about something, and Donut seemed delighted—to see…Me?

That was never a good sign.

Everyone turned to look at me, and the atmosphere grew tense. Elle and Imani exchanged apologetic glances with me, while Carl looked determined but uneasy. Donut was practically vibrating with excitement.

I crossed my arms, bracing myself. “Okay, what is it?”

Before Elle could respond, Donut burst out laughing, but Carl quickly muted her with a wave of his hand. I glared at Donut, then at Carl, my patience wearing thin.

Carl cleared his throat, looking serious. “So, here’s what we learned from our conversation with Quan’s demon. As we suspected, Quan struck a deal with the demon to survive the slug pox infection and get revenge on Donut and me. The demon, Papilio, can’t return to Sheol without killing the both of us. He needs to collect the souls of three crawlers before he can pass through his portal to Sheol. That means me, Donut, and one other. Ren, you weren’t included in the contract because Quan thought you were already dead when he struck the deal, but Papilio himself has elected you as the third. Seems he took offense to being made a chew toy by your, uh…dinosaur.”

“Wait! What’s this about Ren owning a dinosaur?” Donut interrupted.

“How’s this a negotiation?” I said, ignoring Donut.

“He says he’ll leave everyone else alone if we come willingly to the temple. Otherwise, he’ll hunt us all down—Imani and the rest of the guild. I doubt Quan knows enough about the guild for that threat to be genuine, besides Imani, who Quan has already seen, but I’m more worried that he’ll be able to somehow follow us to the next floor. If he can enter saferooms, he may be able to go downstairs. He could fly to another zone, steal a key, and make things harder for us on the next floor.”

“That’s a very Quan thing to do,” I agreed.

“So, he wants the three of us—me, you, and Donut—to come to the temple so he can kill us. Says he’ll start hunting everyone if we don’t arrive before he’s done with the place.”

“Sounds more like he’s taunting us. What’s he want with the temple anyway?” I asked.

Mordecai chimed in, “He’s probably desecrating the temple as we speak. A demon that destroys a temple's shrine can steal some of the god’s power. The shrines are normally protected, but those protections wane after all the attendants have been slaughtered. Even then, the shrine can’t be touched by anything except a mortal hand, which is to say any non-demonic NPC or crawler. But he’s in Quan’s body, so he can probably get Quan to break it once enough time has passed. This is all the more reason you need to deal with him now before he becomes more powerful. As much as I hate to admit it, fleeing is not an option. If the demon has access to Quan’s flight and stasis spells, he’ll have access to Find Crawler as well. He could easily fly to another zone, steal a key from another squad, and head down to the next floor. The ninth will already be difficult enough without a greater demon trying to hunt Carl and Donut down. Not to mention Carl’s still got that quest to speak to Amayon before the end of this floor.”

“So, do we kill Papilio?” I asked, “or can we just separate him using the teleportation exploit of yours?”

“Well, that’s sort of the plan, but there’s more to it than that,” Mordecai explained. “We need to break the contract between Papilio and Quan first. This will remove whatever protections Papilio is providing to Quan and will allow us to kill him and end the contract. If we just separate them, Papilio will still be able to protect and repossess Quan. We need to exorcize Papilio, which requires divine magic.”

I thought for a moment. “So do we know anyone with divine magic? What about Ines? She’s a nun. Wouldn’t she have divine magic?”

Carl shook his head. “Her being a nun has nothing to do with Ines’s class or abilities. And she’s gone insane. I don’t think she’d help us. Hell, she's been using demons to try to kill me, so I doubt she’d fight one on our behalf.”

Donut corrected him. “Nonsense, Carl. She’s just trying to save your soul.”

I felt a surge of annoyance. “So why are we wasting time discussing plans that won’t work?”

Carl sighed. “We wanted you to understand why we’re going with this plan and why it involves you.”

“Pray tell”, I said, and I heard Donut snicker again.

Mordecai answered. “Typically, only cleric and paladin classes are given divine spells and abilities by the gods they worship. Other classes can’t progress far enough as worshippers to receive such abilities, but there are exceptions. Classes compatible with the god they worship might receive such powers.”

He turned and spoke to me directly. “This is where you come in. When Carl told me about your proposal of worshiping Emberus and helping with the Amayon quest, it gave me an idea. Your Arcane Arsonist class should be compatible with Emberus, allowing you to achieve ranks of worship with the Church of Emberus. Imani’s class is fire-themed, but as a healer, she wouldn’t curry the same favor as you. Emberus is a god of fiery destruction after all, and your setting fire to more than half the city should earn you a lot of standing with the Church of Emberus. Maybe even a boon, and a good one at that. But, one of the first things one receives from a god upon reaching the ranks of worship are divine spells. Each is different depending on the god being worshiped and the crawler’s class. But damaging Papilio’s vessel sufficiently with any divine spell or skill should be enough to break their bond, at which point Carl can use Samantha to separate them.”

I nodded along to what Mordecai was saying, and I wasn’t going to argue that Imani took my place—I still wanted to get her safely off the floor—but this was putting a lot of responsibility on my shoulders.

“So, if Emberus gives me one of these spells or skills, how am I going to get close enough to Quan to exorcize Papilio? Papilio isn’t going to let me waltz up to him and slap him with divine magic. Not when he can summon hell portals and Sheol fire. That fire vaporized stone and concrete. I only survived because of my Fire Shield, but that trick only works once.”

“Based on what Carl describes, Papilio had to use Quan’s blood to summon Sheol fire. Demons can’t normally use Sheol fire without a sacrifice or pulling it from Sheol itself. I doubt while bound to Quan he has access to the latter, so he’ll need the soul or blood of a crawler or NPC. Papilio can’t intentionally harm Quan, so he’ll only have access to Quan’s blood if you wound him.”

“So, it’s a self-defense mechanism, like Alien and the acid blood. But fire instead of acid.”

“Uh, I guess you could say that. It’s probably why he wasn’t using Quan’s shield, so that you’d be able to draw blood for him to use.”

“Okay, so I get close to Quan without wounding him, hit him with divine magic, and kill Quan. How am I supposed to avoid the hell portals, and how do I handle the pissed-off greater demon that’s left behind?”

Carl spoke up. “As long as you are in contact with Quan or Samantha when I activate the xistera’s recall, you’ll be ported along too. As for the hell portals—”

Donut interrupted, “You have to get naked.”

I stared blankly at Donut for a moment. “Uh, what? Carl, what the hell is she about?”

Carl sighed. “Crawlers can’t be pulled through hell portals because of a core dungeon rule preventing them from skipping floors. The portals kill crawlers by pulling their equipment through, crushing them, but crawlers without any equipment are safe from the portals.”

I paused, processing the information. “Are you telling me to fight Papilio nude?”

Donut burst into laughter. “What, squeamish about fighting in your birthday suit?”

So, that was her angle: Donut was looking forward to my humiliation.

“It’s because I won’t have any of my protections. If I get attacked by Quan’s sluggalos, or if Quan—uh, or this Papilio—decides to shoot me with another crossbow, I’m dead.

“We’ll have several of the sluggalos watch your back while you confront Papilio at the temple. If you activate your deck ahead of time and prepare your hand so you can empty it quickly, you can use your cards to protect yourself until you have an opening. The immortality card of yours can be a game changer if you have it ready to use. You just need to bait Papilio to waste his hell portal and stasis on you, then hit him with Emberus’s spell. Samantha and I can handle the rest.”

I didn’t know what was worse, being without any of the protection of my weapons and equipment, or being naked in front of the entire galaxy.

Still laughing, Donut added, “Face it, Ren. It’s time you reject modernity and embrace dog.”

----------------------------------------

I approached the temple, flanked by my entourage of four sluggalos. The posse consisted of several small slugs the size of cats and dogs, and four shoulder-high sluggalos: Tenacious Richard, Margret Thrasher, The Squeeze, and Skittles. They had taken to calling me Shaggy 2 Dog—Shaggy D for short—and refused to address me by any other name. The nickname grated on my nerves, but I had more pressing concerns. I felt exposed without my usual equipment, but at least I wasn’t naked.

Instead, I wore a red dress from my sponsor, Pelage Couture. Made of a soft synthetic fabric smoother and lighter than silk, it was neither enchanted nor protective—to likely reduce the cost of the benefactor box. It was a small and revealing dress meant to be paired with a line of lingerie and accessories that Pelage was actually trying to advertise, the dress itself a throw-away only meant to complete the ensemble. I was supposed to have worn it for the costume contest during the Butcher’s Masquerade, but thanks to Donut and Carl’s plan, and the resulting bloodbath, I never got a chance to wear it. Carl had confirmed that non-durable clothing was safe from hell portals—they’d just get torn off without harming the crawler.

Since I was still obligated to wear clothing for Pelage Couture and the dress provided some sense of modesty—at least more than being nude—I elected to wear it. It probably wouldn’t survive the confrontation with Quan and—judging by my view count—my fans knew it.

I left most of my things back with the guild: spare weapons and equipment, extra T’Ghee cards, and anything useful to the guild that I didn’t need for this plan in case things went south. I had given Garret to Imani, along with a tiny crystalline dagger and instructions on what she should do with the dagger if I didn’t come back. As much as I wanted Garret by my side for this instead of a contingent of sluggalos, Carl’s teleportation trick would likely leave Garret behind, putting him at risk of being killed. So, no Garret.

I pulled out my T’Ghee deck and began discarding cards until I was left with four: Protective Shell, Temporary Immortality, Taunt, and Sunchaser. I had deliberately made my deck small, just my six totems and three utility cards, plus one flee card, which was currently discarded. The plan was to use Taunt and Sunchaser to remove the enemy sluggalos from the temple area and the other two cards to protect myself and buy time. If I entered card combat with Quan, I’d quickly empty my hand to use spells against him and then my new divine spell to exorcize Papilio.

By worshiping Emberus and honoring him with my firestorm, I had become a Conflagrant of Emberus, receiving the same god-quests as Carl, and the spell Sacred Flame. It was a channeled spell that could be cast on myself, Velma, or an existing fire, giving the fire the Sanctified property. The mana cost was variable. It raised the mana cost of spells like Wall of Fire and Fireball by 10%. For Velma, it would require a channeling cost of 5 mana per second, and for existing fires it was a flat cost depending on the size of the fire. Bodies burned by Sacred Flame would become Sanctified and could not become undead or vessels for demonic possession, and could directly damage a demon’s hold on possession.

I reached the temple without interference—it seemed the sluggalos had been pulled back to let us pass. I told my sluggalos entourage to wait outside for my signal and stepped into the temple alone. I was greeted by yet another wall of sluggalos, these more caterpillar-like than those in the guild hall. They were packed into the temple, dozens upon dozens, and brandished an eclectic assortment of weapons, much like the slugs at the mosh pit.

I was really beginning to hate slugs.

They parted in front of me, creating a path to the center of the temple. The metallic scent of blood wafted forward, repugnant and distinct even over the sickly sweet smell of the slugs. Papilio, The Red Admiral, in the body of Quan, sat on an improvised throne made from the broken fountain in the center of the temple. The water was red with blood, and I could see the chopped and mangled remains of what I assumed to be the temple's congregation.

“Greetings, Girly, I didn’t see you during my talk with your friends. I suppose you were making yourself more presentable. For me? I’m touched.” He spoke affably in that voice that seemed half London street bloke and Oxford professor. I might have even considered it a bit charming if Papilio weren’t wearing such a punchable face.

“What can I say, wearing slime just isn’t my style. Can’t say it suits you either. How’s Quan?”

“Fuming. Can’t say he appreciates the present company. But I think it’s so kind of you to come. However, I believe there are supposed to be two more of you."

“Carl’s going to get Donut as we speak. She’s hiding in a different saferoom and it’s not safe for her to roam by herself. They’ll be here eventually.”

It was a half truth. Carl was headed to Donut’s location, but he wasn’t coming back. I had to stall long enough for him to get into position. Samantha was already outside, hidden among my team of sluggalos. Once Carl was in position, he’d give me the all-clear, and I would proceed to piss Papilio off. Or attack him, whichever worked to bait him.

“So, you seem to be doing well”, I said, trying to sound casual, “I thought my pet dinosaur might have been too rough on you. But you seem just fine now.”

Papilio leapt from the throne, landing a half-dozen paces from me. Anger flashed in his eyes, and I instantly regretted my choice of words—Yuty seemed to be a sore subject.

“Know this, Girly, I might look like a right gent—”

“Pfft. Not in that body, you don't.”

Insert foot into mouth.

“What I am getting at is that I am only acting hospitable because I’m on the clock. I got a job to do. As such, I prefer to do things quickly and cleanly. I can tolerate your insolence because I don’t have to show off to any of my lackeys back in Sheol. But if you want to test my patience, then I can show you why they call me the Red Admiral.”

Ren: Carl, you in place yet?

Carl: I’m almost there. Just engage him in small talk.

Ren: I’m not good at this small talk thing.

Donut: Compliment him on something. Men love it when you stroke their ego.

“You know I can hear you when you speak with others”, said Papilio. “I take it Mr. Carl won’t be joining us after all.”

This immediately drew my attention. “Wait? You can hear my messages?”

“When you climb the ranks of the demonic hierarchy as I have, you pick up several tricks along the way.”

Well, shit, so much for deception.

Ren: Carl, heads up. Papi can intercept our messages. Stay quiet until I give the signal.

“Papi, really? Too lazy to spell my name properly?”

“You judging me on spelling? So you can see the chats themselves. Wouldn't it have been better to keep that secret?” I decided I might as well pump Papilio for information if he was feeling chatty. He might reveal something important for the other to know and, at the very least, help me stall for time.

“When you’ve been at this as long as I have, Girly, you need to give yourself a challenge every once in a while. Spice things up. Frankly, I’m pleased you’re trying to deceive me. It’s more fun this way.”

“Fun like taking holy water to the face or being chewed on by General Yuty? I have to know: Does Quan feel it when you get mangled again and again? It would help me sleep at night knowing you’re making him suffer.”

“And, just like that, I am out of patience.”

“It’s a genuine—”question, I tried to say, but Papilio summoned a black bolt of energy and hit me square in the chest with it. Instead of tearing open a hole in the air like before, it opened one beneath my feet. The pull staggered me, and I dropped to my knees as my dress was ripped away. But that was it. Carl had been right; the portal hadn’t harmed me, and nothing happened except for the needle in my UI ticking to the right, showing a sudden spike in viewers.

I got to my feet and stepped off the portal. The pull ended once my feet left the surface, and it disappeared a moment later.

“Odd. That usually works,” said Papilio, bewildered.

“Some men just have performance issues, these things happen,” I replied.

“Again with the lip. Do you not understand the position you're in? Your life is in my hands—”

“Don’t you mean hand? You only got one, remember?” I felt no reason not to antagonize Papilio at this point. Now that I had baited him into casting his hell portal, the countdown was on.

“You know what? I don’t have to listen to this. How about you have fun with the rest of my company.” Papilio gestured to the mass of sluggalos surrounding him. “I’m sure my boys—urk!”

Papilio hunched over in sudden pain, clutching his chest.

"Oh bother," he groaned, as Quan's body swelled grotesquely like an over-pressurized beach ball, then exploded with a burst of orange slime, spawning a massive sluggalo, two, maybe three times larger than Quan’s body. It landed with a loud splat that shook the ground, continuing to swell larger. Quan's form crumpled like a deflated balloon animal as Papilio muttered a string of curses.

So that’s how he keeps creating more of them. Disgusting. I bet Quan regretted receiving whatever immortal protection Papilio’s contract gave him. That looked like it hurt.

The slug gave a bellow that would put any heavy metal singer to shame and brandished a spike shield that looked like a bulldozer's front bucket with railroad stakes rammed through it.

Marvin the Wrecker. Sluggalo - Level 106

Damn, it was over level 100. I was glad Carl's plan didn’t require that I fight any of these sluggalos.

“Ah, a new member of the team,” Papilio spoke from the floor and I saw Quan’s body begin knitting itself back together. “Hey, Girly, be a dear and show this rookie the ropes. Uh, Marvin, was it?”

Marvin, now the size of a horse, rose to his full height and stared intensely at the mangled Papilio.

“How about you show our guest here a good time?” he said to Marvin.

Marvin bellowed and began slamming his spike shield into the ground, shattering the tile floors. The sluggalos in the temple began thumping their heads along with Marvin, and five or six of them started beat-boxing. The sluggalos behind me formed up to block my escape, creating a sealed corridor for me and Marvin.

Marvin charged.

While Marvin demolished the stone floor, I had summoned Sunchaser and now used my Taunt card on her. The card attracted the aggro of all the slugs in the area, including Marvin, and I sent the giant kangaroo rat fleeing from the temple. She leapt over the slug blocking the exit and bounded away. I sidestepped Marvin as he charged after Sunchaser, plowing through the slugs blocking the doors, crushing them into paste. Every other slug in the temple followed behind him.

Dodging Marvin was easy. Several dozen sluggalos—not so much. I ended up being trampled by the writhing mass of sluggalos, knocked down as their slimy bodies rolled over me. Most of the slugs were modest in size, suffocating rather than crushing me.

Once the tide of slugs subsided, I gasped and peeled myself off the ground. Papilio had risen as well, having reassembled himself. He didn’t look happy.

“You really like making a fool of me, don’t you? I escape one hell only to find myself in another.”

“You and me both”, I said, and shook the slime of my body, after which my fur looked like I had been electrocuted, then hair-sprayed, “but at least this is a fresher hell. But why should we stop here? I got more surprises for you. Get him, gang!”

In the chaos of the mass exodus of slugs, my own sluggalos slipped in and took position around Papilio. He had apparently failed to notice the switcheroo—you really should check the map, Admiral ol’buddy. They had surrounded the demon, and, at my command, proceeded to beat him relentlessly. Papilio cried out in surprise.

The guild had given them all bludgeoning weapons to reduce the chance of drawing blood: clubs, bats, shields to bash with. Tenacious Richard wielded a rubber mallet the size of a street sign, and the Squeeze had his boxing gloves—one on his head and the other on his tail. Skittles had a pair of club-like maracas that chattered as he smacked Papilio across the face. Margaret Thrasher had refused to give up her whip but agreed to only use it for strangling Quan, which she did now while all the other slugs wailed on him.

After several seconds of beating, Papilio used Quan’s Stasis to freeze my sluggalos—the bait had worked—and he rose from the dog-pile. Margaret’s whip was tangled around his neck, and blood ran from a gash on his forehead.

“You want it the hard way? Fine. Now you get to burn in the fires of Sheol! Let's see you survive it this time!” Papilio snarled.

He raised a hand towards the blood, but before he could summon any Sheol fire, I cast my Protective Shell card on the nearest sluggalo. The expanding barrier slammed into Papilio, rocketing him across the room into a wall like a cannonball. There was an audible crunch.

I stalked towards him and readied my last card—Temporary Immortality. I was on a roll and off to a strong start. But that had been the case the last time I fought Quan. I hit hard and fast, but failed when I couldn’t secure a quick victory. I had to time this last card perfectly to execute the rest of the plan.

Ren: Samantha, Carl, be ready. I’m about to go immortal and smite Quan.

Carl: Damnit, I need more time. What happened to the plan?

Ren: Papi was trigger happy.

Donut: Ha, I knew Ren would mess it up.

Carl: Donut, hush. I need you to come to me, can you handle that?

Samantha: I’m ready! I’ll kill him!

I turned to where Papilio had fallen. He had crashed into a blocky statue that broke apart over him like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Something about the statue struck me as odd, but I didn’t have time to consider it.

“You alright, Admiral? Looks like you took quite the tumble.”

Papilio lifted his head, blood pouring from a split in his scalp. He snarled and a wave of dark red fire lashed out from his open mouth, a torrent of flame that completely engulfed me. It tore through my Fire Shield and triggered my overcharge protection, which I had reset using my own fire magic on myself. The momentary immunity to fire activated, giving me enough time to activate my last T’Ghee card. As the orange light of the overcharge around my body faded, it was replaced by an amber yellow light of immortality.

Ren: Now, I activated the card, I’m—Oh Fuck!

While I wouldn’t take damage for 20 seconds, I could still feel pain, and at that very moment, I was engulfed in Sheol fire. I had taken a fire resistance potion ahead of time, so it could have been worse, but as soon as the overcharge protection ended, I felt the heat of Sheol. Being in hellfire felt like touching a red-hot stovetop with every inch of your bare skin.

As I have said once before: immortality hurts.

I howled with pain and tried to escape the fire, but it clung to me like napalm. The searing pain was maddening, but this wasn’t my first time being set on fire. I activated Control Flame and expelled the hellfire from my body outward in a sphere.

“You want to play with fire? I’ll show you how to play with fire!” I snarled, and focused my attention on Papilio. He had gotten out from under the broken statue and was getting to his feet. I wasn’t about to let him take flight. Activating Sacred Flame, I summoned a sanctified Wall of Fire around us. Then, continuing to use Control Flame, I raised the wall to the ceiling, trapping Papilio in a cage of gold-white fire with me.

"Out of the fryer and into the fire, Admiral! You're about to get Captain Cooked!"

Never a bad time for a good tagline.

Papilio recoiled from the sanctified fires, genuine terror in his eyes.

“Hey, Girly, how about we make a deal. I can—”

“No can do, Mr. Admiral," I interrupted. "You see, I have a bone to pick with the man you’re possessing. It’s nothing personal—not with you, I mean—but Quan…”

I summoned a sanctified Fireball in my hand and held it aloft.

“He’s got to burn.”

And that’s when my spell decided to backfire and blow up in my face.

You see, being a Gnoll comes with quirks beyond the fur and teeth. In the dungeon, Gnolls are notoriously bad at spell casting. This manifests as a trait called Chaotic Caster. It means my unmodified spell casting is unstable, something upcasting at a higher leveling, or larger area of effect, but also prone to backfiring—a fact I'd become intimately familiar with through countless instances of setting myself on fire. Only spells that didn’t consume mana, like bard spells, were exempt from this chaotic influence.

It was my game guide, Tix, a winged cat-like creature with the same quirk, who advised me on how to mitigate this weakness. With the right class specialization, I could turn this disadvantage into an advantage—benefiting for the spells upcasting while minimizing self-immolation. My class allowed me to cast certain spells through Velma, improving the stability of my spells, and the regular backfiring of my fire spells helped me quickly level my Fire Shield.

I should have known better than to summon a high-level spell like Fireball without Velma’s assistance.

The explosion sent me rocketing back into the fountain, crashing into the gore-filled water. I reflexively used a healing potion to undo the damage from being blasted across the room. I tried to stand, but Papilio slammed into my chest, his body wreathed in golden flames, brighter and more intense than Carl’s holy water grenades: he had been within the radius blast—thank god for upcasting. Papilio screamed in pain and rage, and I saw tendrils of black, ink-like smoke seeping from his eyes and open wounds.

He straddled me and grabbed my neck with enough force to crush my windpipe. He slammed my head down several times as he yelled at me.

"You bitch, you fucking bitch! You should have died with the rest of your team!” His British accent was gone, and I realized this was Quan speaking to me. Papilio was no longer in control.

Contract severed, I guess.

I tried to say something quippy, but his hand was like a vice grip, and I couldn’t speak. He eventually stopped slamming my head and forced it underwater, holding me there. I could probably outmatch him in strength, but I had a better idea.

Ren: Samantha, hurry up, I’ve got him preoccupied.

Samantha: I don’t see you, you’re supposed to be with him.

Ren: I’m beneath him underwater. He’s got me by the neck.

Samantha: Oh, I like your style. When I get my body back, we can strangle each other.

Ren: Samantha!

Quan suddenly jerked back, and I seized the opening to shift and get his weight off me. I got my head above the water and gasped for breath, but his grip held tight. The murky water cleared from my eyes enough to see Samantha clamped to Quan’s neck. He was trying to shake her, but with his only hand around my neck, he wasn’t having much luck. I wasn’t going to let him let go. I grabbed his upper arm with a vice grip of my own and held on.

Ren: Carl, now.

I didn’t hear Carl’s response because, at that moment, Margaret Thrasher decided to show up and seize her whip. She hauled Quan off me, and perhaps because Quan's shoulder was already damaged by the Sacred Flame, or I was heavier than expected, his arm, which was firmly in my grasp, separated at the socket like a cooked chicken leg.

Quan and Samantha were lifted off me into the air. A moment later, Quan, Samantha, and Margaret Thrasher disappeared, leaving me behind with Quan’s right arm and robe—which had come off along with the arm—and Papilio.

In Quan’s place, a thick cloud of black smoke in the shape of Quan’s body began to expand outwards, filling up damn near a third of temple.

And then the whole world paused.

I couldn’t move, and my heart began to race. I could hear the building crescendo of heavy metal music in the distance. Wrought iron bars appeared over every door and window, even the door to Club Vanquisher. They glowed with white energy, and I knew from experience that I was sealed in the temple.

Ren: Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Carl: Ren, what’s going on?

Donut: WHAT DID YOU DO?

The voice of the dungeon AI boomed throughout the temple as it spoke.

B-B-B-B-Boss Battle!

Who Let the Demons Out!

The black cloud expanded, forming into a massive, hideous creature—a grotesque mix between a centipede and a thorny caterpillar, with a blood-red carapace. The creature’s lengthy body filled a quarter of the temple space, its head easily brushing the ceiling.

Papilio, The Red Admiral - Throned Nemat

Level 125 City Boss!

T’Ghee cards appeared in my hand—my deck had reset. Panic surged through me as I realized that I hadn’t been able to summon Velma or remove any of my items from inventory. I was drenched in blood and completely naked, with only my slimmed down T’Ghee deck to protect myself.

And I was about to fight The Red Admiral at his full strength.

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