Chapter 22.1 - The Hidden Door
“MASTER WAKE WAKE!!!”
The terrified screech let out just as an arrow collided with Talsh’Noc’Un’s blurring dark blade, the weapon coming to a still stance directly in front of his face. It caused Trey to startle, and he realized that his greatsword minion was floating ahead of him with the flat end facing him.
It had just blocked an attack that would’ve pierced his skull.
To his right Napoleon was still screeching for him to get up as two firebolts flew out of the imp’s tiny black claws, meeting marks only twenty meters away. An enraged culn clutched at his throat in surprise. His skin went up in flames and he began screaming while it began to spread across his face.
The five stages of waking up: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. That’s the usual protocol Trey took to his daily rise, but this time he skipped denial and went straight to anger.
And he stayed there.
“What a bunch of cock sucking motherfuckers!” Trey seethed as he laid eyes on an archer and the three heavily armored culn warriors. One was incapacitated and rolling on the ground while two more were hiding behind large steel tower shields that blocked Napoleon’s strikes. They immediately became more wary of the imp after seeing the firebolts down their comrade, slowing their advance from a run to a fast walk.
Trey yelled at Napoleon to get down just as the archer turned his attention to the imp, letting loose another steel-tipped arrow that bounced off a nearby rock just as Napoleon ducked behind one of the rocks of the outcropping.
“I shoot shoot!” Napoleon declared with a shit-eating grin. He turned the corner and let out another firebolt that slammed into the culn he had caught earlier. The man had just been getting up and he took the firebolt to the back of his head, knocking off his helmet and downing him again.
Jesus that imp was a good shot!
Trey rubbed his eyes to try and clear his sleepiness away, and turned back to the two standing culn shield-bearers just as the first one came within ten yards of him. Rushing to the left to get a clearer shot at the archer, Trey grinned and vanished into thin air. He came back up an instant later in a burst of shadows just two feet away from his target with rows of glinting black razor teeth and lines of crimson glowing power spider-webbing out across his face from the eyes.
The archer’s expression went from confidence to horror in that same instant and he let out a scream that caused his comrades to turn and see a giant greatsword cleave the leather-wearing archer from left shoulder into his chest cavity. Trey watched the heart spasm and shoot torrents of blood out from the huge wound as the culn’s body went limp. Kicking off the corpse for good measure and flicking blood and entrails from the blade he turned and took a throwing dagger to the chest.
“I just can’t catch a break!” Trey cursed angrily, clutching at the weapon embedded in his pectoral muscle and yanked it out to toss it to the ground.
“Omastein, Sire of Devils awaits you in the afterlife!” yelled out the man who had thrown the dagger. The culn man turned to face Trey while the other armored soldier rushed the imp.
Napoleon screamed and began to panic while circling around the rocks and avoiding two swings of a large one-handed axe. The culn didn’t get another swing though as he abruptly dropped the axe and his chin slammed into the ground, then he began to yell in a panic of his own when he was dragged off by a sparking, flaming chaos chain wrapped around his ankle.
“MAY THE-”
Trey wouldn’t ever know what the guy was about to finish saying as his body slammed into the other soldier who was also wrapped up in a chaos chain and hacking away at it wildly. The impact knocked him unconscious to join the 1st soldier Napoleon had taken out.
Then Trey began to squeeze.
The yelling turned frantic as the remaining conscious soldier felt his arms break and a spark of chaos energy rippled up the armor he wore, shredding the softer flesh underneath and crushing the metal against his body. That’s when the begging started.
“PLEASE SPARE ME!” The soldier wailed in pain and panic, kicking out his legs while being suspended by the chains created from spawn portals above him. His eyes grew wide in shock and furthered horror as the man he had come with beside him wrapped in the other chain made a loud snapping noise under the pressure. The unconscious body contorted into a shape no living humanoid could realistically undertake, and seconds later there was no doubt he was dead. The spine had been crushed, shattered, and the corpse was dropped to the ground.
“You have gained XP.”
Trey walked over to the flailing fear-stricken man suspended just a little overhead and smirked. “Whatever happened to this… what was it? Omastein? Weren’t you supposed to send me his way?”
A dark glare from the horned, purple-skinned demon was Trey’s only response and the chains tightened further; causing the culn man to scream out again. Trey watched unwavering as Napoleon began to scramble over the rocks and made his own way to where the soldier he’d knocked unconscious with a firebolt to the head. Trey continued to watch further as Napoleon unleashed his tiny black claws furiously into the culn’s burnt neck, the cute little imp quickly showing why he was still categorized as a demon. The culn’s soft flesh was shredded and the little imp cackled evilly before bending down, jamming his tiny little hand into the culn’s open wound; and blowing another firebolt into the exposed spine. The head of the culn snapped back and cracked loudly with Napoleon cackling even harder, and then the little imp began to feed on the lifeblood of the other demon like it was drinking out of a warm, crimson water fountain.
“Your minion Napoleon has gained 1 overall level.”
“Nice. Didn’t realize you were so devilishly evil!” Trey exclaimed with a laugh, not phased in the least and he began laughing harder when the single remaining culn soldier tried to sputter something out but couldn’t get the words due to lack of air. He loved gloating over these bastards after what they or their kin had done to him not long ago.
He loved every second of it.
Trey snapped his fingers and the chaos chains disappeared entirely, dropping the culn soldier onto the ground with a hard thud. The demon tried to recover but was hurt and out of air, and the flat side of Trey’s greatsword slammed into the soldier’s face - breaking his nose.
The culn was obviously dazed and Trey easily took his sword and shield from him, tossing them away before putting his blade’s tip along the culn’s exposed neck. The culn stiffened immediately, stopped sputtering so much, and held out his hands to either side in surrender. The guy’s nose was an absolute mess, as was his right arm and much of his armor where the chaos chains had compressed. Looking down more carefully, Trey could tell this armor was of poorer quality than the soldiers he had faced days before at the lake. Many rust spots were seen and he quickly inspected it to the best of his ability - but his ability was rather shit as usual.
Rusty Steel Barbuta Helm (Heavy Armor)
Item Tier: (4) Basic
Armor: 11 physical resistance, 3 magic resistance
Bonuses: None
Requirements: ???
Durability: 28/90
Special: ???
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Rusty Steel Breastplate (Heavy Armor)
Item Tier: (4) Basic
Armor: 26 physical resistance, 4 magic resistance
Bonuses: None
Requirements: 15 Strength, 12 Endurance
Durability: 42/124
Special: None
At least he got the majority of the information, but he had a long ways to go if he couldn’t fully identify ‘basic’ or ‘common’ items like these ones. Trey also noticed that this heavy class armor used a lot of both Strength and Endurance stats, and that he didn’t even have a high enough endurance to use the greaves of breastplate even at a basic tier!
Sighing, he let the identification pages slide away. He’d have to resort to only using light armor. There was no way he’d be putting points into Endurance when he needed Intelligence and Wisdom for his spells, Willpower for his minion control limit slots, and Strength for being able to eventually use this greatsword he’d found. Dexterity, speed, endurance, faith and Luck would all be on the backburner for now. He wasn’t sure about Vitality though and he’d likely end up chucking a couple points into it from time to time. Maybe medium class armor would be the way to go if that was even an armor class option, but he’d had yet to see any of it and if it was a thing he didn’t know what the stat requirements usually focused on.
He took another look at the culn under the tip of his blade who stared back up at him with hate evident on his face. The guy looked like he was in his late 30’s or early 40’s and was shaved close to the head from what Trey could see underneath the helmet. However, as he was a demon, Trey really had no idea how old he was. Small black horns poked out from the helm as well. The demon’s skin was a lighter purple than most of his darker-purple comrades Trey had seen thus far, and he had the usual red markings across his face that Trey immediately realized was war-paint after bending down to get a better look at the demon.
“What’s your name?” Trey asked in the now familiar tongue of Ancient Demon with pleasant demeanor.
The retort Trey got was a glob of spit directly to the face as an act of defiance. Trey slowly wiped the spit off his cheek and flung it to the ground, still calm and composed, but he began to press a little harder on the blade. Sinking into the culn’s neck half a centimeter and drawing blood, the blade hissed with excitement while the still-glaring demon grimaced and began to shake.
“One more chance, otherwise I just outright kill you.” Trey smiled maliciously, eyes glowing a bright crimson his predator symbiote Sithis urged him to get on with it and slice this demon’s head off.
The culn man spat again, but Trey dodged it this time.
“GET ON WITH IT THEN!” roared the culn warrior as he braced himself for the final blow.
Trey looked over at the three other corpses around him, and then down to the soldier underneath his sword. He then flung the weapon to the side and with an outstretched hand materialized claws that slashed across the culn’s face. Deep jagged wounds were dug into the demon’s cheekbone and jaw, leaving his face shredded and screaming. The culn’s hands flew up to try to defend himself now that a sword wasn’t pressed against his neck, but the right arm was still damaged and Trey easily swatted it away before breaking the fingers on the culn’s left.
“DAMN YOU!” screeched the culn just before another claw raked against the other side of the face.
Strike after strike, bludgeon after bludgeon smashed into the warrior for two entire minutes. Sithis purred happily inside of him as Trey took out his anger and vengeance on his victim until the demon was left gasping for breath and bleeding profusely with a mangled mess of flesh left for his head.
“Now listen here, you dumb mother fucker...” Trey yanked on the soldier’s breastplate and hissed in the slumping man’s face while the culn gurgled up a solid whimper in reply. “The soldiers that attacked me and the escaped slaves a while back at the lake... Do you know who the officer was and where he is?”
The culn didn’t reply but labored heavily to breathe as he hung like a bloodied rag doll in Trey’s grip, until Trey violently shook him and screamed profanities at the devastated demon while threatening to kill him. Though battered and bruised, the culn was still aware enough to feel fear.
“Yes…” a harsh rasping voice replied through strained effort as the beaten man lifted one good eye to look at him.
“Good.” Trey said, smiling wickedly. He turned to glance up and down the trail, seeing no other culn anywhere nearby. Then he looked back to the culn, unblinking with a wide set grin behind the black jawed devil’s mask - his tail flicking back and forth in anticipation.
“Then you have one opportunity to save your pathetic, worthless fucking life.” Trey struck the man hard across his already ruined face and caused the culn to cry out. He flung the culn to the ground and put a hand around the demon’s neck, letting hellfire seeth out of his mouth to singe the tips of the culn’s nose as an intimidation tactic.
“Tell… me…!” gasped the culn warrior pleadingly, tears coming to his eyes as he began to quiver.
Napoleon looked over curiously at the two and cocked his head. “Why you not kill kill him? Kill him now now!”
Trey dismissed the imp’s request with a wave of his free hand, keeping eye contact with his prey and readying himself to snap the culn’s neck in case he refused.
“You will pledge yourself to me as my minion.”
A prompt appeared in Trey’s vision, and Trey could only assume a similar one had appeared for the culn as well.
“You have offered a minion contract to this culn. Because you have beaten him into submission, it has the option of a painless death and immediate transfer of his soul into the void. Be aware, if the culn does not accept this offer within ten minutes - the offer will expire and the potential servant will die.”
The culn man looked shocked, as if a bucket of ice water had just been poured onto his head unexpectedly. He strained his head to look at the imp and then his one good eye that wasn’t shredded flipped back over to Trey.
“You’re… a summoner…?” The culn asked between rasps only to be violently struck again with a backhand.
“YOU WILL ONLY SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO YOU FUCKING PRICK!” Trey roared, anger seething within him after remembering the images of the dying escapees at the lake. Then he bent further and leaned towards the culn’s ear with a whisper: “Choose now or I’ll just finish you off and find another one who will take me up on it. You don’t have ten minutes, you have five seconds.”
The culn began to stammer something out as the grip around his throat tightened, sharp claws pressing in against soft flesh before he nodded in panic and another prompt flew up in front of Trey’s face.
“Culn Warrior has accepted your pact. Culn Warrior’s name has been revealed: Jerekka Zoz. One of your minion control limit slots has been filled.”
Then the page for his new minion popped up.
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Simplified Status Page
Name: Jerekka Zoz
Race: Culn, Lesser Demon
Class: Warrior
Level: 6
HP: 17/126, MP: 50/50, SP: 41/114, DP: 1/1
Skills: Blades (lvl. 7), Heavy Armor (lvl. 2), First Aid (lvl. 1), Shields (lvl 3), Tracking (lvl. 1), Shield Bash (lvl. 2) (Sacred Art)
Traits: Sturdy, Trey Bon’s Minion
Magical Attributes: None
Opinion of you: Hated
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Control Limit Slots: 3 of 3 used.
Trey’s Minions:
* Napoleon, Oblivion Imp, Level 4 (1 slot)(Liked)
* Talsh’Noc’Un Greatsword, Living Weapon (1 slot)(Neutral)
* Jerekka Zoz, Culn, Level 6 (1 slot)(Hated)
Trey looked pleased as he felt and saw a spark of energy connect him to his new minion. A second later and the culn’s status bars showed up next to Napoleon's on the left of Trey’s HUD, getting larger as he focused on them and then minimizing again when not concentrating on them. He was very interested in this ‘Shield Bash’ sacred art the demon had and made a mental note to ask him about it later. He certainly hadn’t seen the culn use it in their fight, but he was rather confident that the culn just hadn’t had the opportunity to do so. He also noticed that the culn ‘hated’ him, but still only took up 1 control slot… so it must be relatively weak compared to Trey’s own might. Otherwise it would have taken up 2 or 3 slots according to the All Spirit’s guide on his infernal summoner class, and he had to agree with the assessment based on the fight they’d just had.
This also brought into question the leveling system. The culn warrior was level 6, while he was only level 5. If the culn was relatively weaker than he was then levels must not be entirely indicative of true strength, though it obviously had some influence he didn’t know how much that was.
Without even a single comment, Trey summoned dark magic to appear in his hand; then began creating the portal to the nether realm. Waving goodbye very slowly, and with a crooked smile, he dismissed his newest minion Jerekka in the brief blaze of crimson pentagram lights.
Then, Jerakka was gone.
“Adios bitch, we’ll be needing you soon so get better…” Trey said with a low chuckle. He had been… hungering, ever since the fight had begun. Now that three culn corpses lay out before him he couldn’t help but feel even more… hungry.
Turning away from Napoleon’s kill to let the little imp feast, and focusing on his own kills, Trey went over to the nearest corpse. Stripping the armor off the demon and smiling wickedly at the dead eyes and pool of coagulated blood, Trey’s mask of long black teeth sunk into the corpse to relish in the fresh, warm meat under the red light of Oblivion’s moons.
“You have gained 1 strength from consuming a fresh kill.”