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Why do demons have to be so resilient. I know, I shouldn't complain about that... but still.

Back in the tower, I went to the top floor to clean up the mess we have made of the place. There wasn't really much time to sort through all of my stuff we brought with us from the old lair; spiders had to be cleared out, and we already lost a day or two moving my hoard -hard to tell time in hell, no sun and all that. I just dumped everything on the ground after unloading it from the Pug's wagon, and now it lays scattered or piled up in the sand that still covers this part of the ancient fortification.

*sigh.

I need some time to think, so it suits me just fine.

There's a lot of junk in here. The little green bastards clearly weren't impressed when they saw my collection and left soon after completing the delivery; curious that I was able to pick that up, as those guys are usualy hard to read, and there isn't much emotion in them except the strange, deep hatred that seems to literally burn in their yellow eyes most of the time. Not sure what they expected to see, but before leaving they felt somewhat disapointed to me.

Anyway.

Despite of what I've said earlier, I'm actually having trouble coming up with a reasonable solution to how are we going to approach the frozen pests eradication down in the maze. Normally in such a situation I would've likely just collapsed the nest's ceiling -and everything above it, and be done with them. Simple and effective when you want to squash something and don't care about the collateral damage. Their frozen armor must be much more brittle with all the frost in there so that should do the trick.

But I'm afraid this is no longer an option, can't risk that.

I grab a ragged bag full of metal scap over my shoulder and start moving my 'treasure' down to the lower levels where I will sort it later... But my mind keeps wandering to what we saw earier.

-I want it.

That thing, back in the sewers, guarded by a swarm of demons. When they all shifted to release the Giant Centipede I was able to see it for a brief moment, and knew that we had to get it. One of the bigger bugs, burried deep in the middle of the horde, was holding onto something, cradling it close to its shiny carapace. Who would've guessed a truly beautiful gem was hidden beneath that nighmare ball.

Damn that thing was huge, biggest jewel I've ever seen. With just a glimpse I was able to tell it wasn't simple. It caught my eye, immediately captivating most of my attention.

A priceless treasure.

We keep moving up and down the stupidly long ladder, bringing more items deeper into our new lair; dexterous vines stretch out from under my ragged cloak making traversing it a breeze. Rose taking control of moving us allows me to refocus on planing our next move while she does most of the work. Good girl.

Good thing we've noticed what the centipedes were hiding there before I did something drastic.

-This complicates things. Rules out the option to just go nuts and blast everything there to bits with a giant fireball... or whatever - not like fire would be the best choice, wont be as effective in a place so fully saturated with Ice magic. Mhmm, not like I would do that, don't want to waste mana on such a thing; with Rose here I might have gained a way to restore mana in a somewhat reliable way while stuck in hell, but it does take time and I still find myself unwilling to spend my magic so easly - I don't like running empty, what if an emergency pops up. Old habits die hard; all those years spent in hell, counting every point of mana used, left their mark on me. But being so greedy with my mana kept me alive, let's not change that.

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And there's no way I would risk damaging the Gem.

I doubt it would be so easy to destroy, there was something special about that thing I'm sure, but we can't be certain how durable it truly is. I would hate it if we left even a scratch on one of its facets... Those damned bugs better take good care of our gem until we come to collect it.

Maybe I could...

"Hmmm?"

I stop in my track for a moment as I find a badly damaged book laying half burried in the sand. Its cover half rotten by the miasma. A fate that awaits most items brought from the mortal plane to this shitty realm if one doesn't take proper measures to preserve them.

"In the end I never got to finish reading it." I lift it up and flip open the title page. It's illegible.

How long has it been since then? I've been so very busy, so much has happened. Ever since I've killed that damned goat bastard, shit just kept happening. Well, at least now I have Rose with me, and we've gotten much stronger. You could even say it turned out great for me and hell became much more bearable - to the point that I don't even mind it as much; I just hope this sudden power creep doesn't get into my head and gets me killed. That would fucking suck.

Flipping to another page... it crumbles to dust. Same with the third one. Fourth tore in half leaving a piece of darkened paper in my claws. Another, to dust. Its flaking cover falls off onto the sand and I look down on it as few more pages left in my hands also join it and soon mix with the sand.

There is much more miasma here in this tower then in the wasteland, and I've left the book in my old place for quite a some time unprotected. Wasn't planning to be away that long. This result was to be expected.

"Well, that's about it, I guess." Maybe we will find another copy, somewhere in the mortal realm, and be able to finish it then. I shrug and drop rest of the now useles tome to the floor.

"Now, where was I?" I don't have time for this.

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"Pierce!"

Calling out the skills' name like some silly protagonist - just for the heck of it, I thrust my outstretched finger forward and strike. In a blurr, my sharp claw goes straight through the old battered shield in front of me like it was made out of paper. Broken shards of surprisingly brittle metal fly out in every direction and there's now another hole left in the dented armament. Long ago It must have been a real piece of art, but not much is left of the engravings that once decorated its surface.

"How do you like that? It seems my claw was stronger in the end." I nod smirking, satisfied of making a short work of it, and reach down to pick up a broken pole that use to be part of a short spear - before I snaped it in half.

"Now then, to finish it..."

The dark, almost black, piece of ruined shaft goes straight through the hole I've just made and gets stuck on sharp jagged edges. Three more soon follow after it...

...And I've made myself an improvised table.

The tower is short on furniture of any kind, one has to improvise when in need. I flip it upwards, it is stable, and set it in the corner of what is to become my workshop - one of the side rooms on the towers' first floor. I will make something more robust at a later time, but for now it will have to do. Not sure why I've kept this old thing in my hoard for so long. Have I known it was so brittle I'd have repurposed it long ago. Maybe it was only ornamental to begin with.

It's good to learn that my claws count as a weapon as far as this Skill is concerned, so I can use it even when unarmed. That or using [Pressence] while using it to empower the effect did the trick - I was unwilling to test it without using my Ability to strenghten the strike, didn't want to break my finger against a damned shield while experimenting with my new Skill.

Mhmm.

[Piercing Strike]

Tthis isn't something bought with my Skill Points - like I would waste them on something so basic. This is something I've learned, back when we went around killing the spider demons that encrouched on our teritory... All these years and only now do I learn that you can gain Skills without spending precious points? Fuck.

How?

"I've had this system for years. Either it is extremely hard to gain skills this way or I've been doing something wrong." I ponder while tapping the new 'table' with clawed finger... This means another change of plans. I turn around and cast my eyes down onto the center of the room. There, surrounded by concentric runed markings, lies the most important 'Item' we've spirited away to hell -or rather, Purgatory. Body of an undead we defeated after sending everyone away, encased in an icy coffin.

"Look at you now, you old hag. Finally where you belong." I shake my head.

Yes. Despite the damage that time inflicted on her corpse, there is no mistaking it. The swamp did a surprisingly good job at preserving her body - that or not even worms wanted to touch it, until the undead came to claim it. It seems that my ice is able to hold the miasma at bay and away from her, but I've went out of my way and used the formation that the gnomes from the caravan taught me anyway. Just to be sure... I have no idea what hells' bullshit would do to the body of an undead. Especially someones' like her.

"But you will have to wait. There is too much on my plate right now..."

I go around the prepared room, putting away my various tools and materials, organizing the working space, and only ocasionally throwing short glances at the Hag that taught me so many valuable lessons, back when I just came to this world and knew next to nothing. But I'm diferent now, and she is dead.

I started humming a tune that a certain bard taught me all those years ago...

Fuck.

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