I watched while Phaedra beckoned to a soldier, who rolled a metal cart into the room. The cart carried a glass tank containing a small, horned lizard, and I realized I was to witness a stomach-wrenching demonstration.

Inside the tank was a small orb, similar to the one in Phaedra’s hands. Next to it was a small bronze hammer which could be dropped using a button on the side of the tank. As much as I didn’t want to see this, I didn’t think there was much I could say to prevent it without arousing suspicion. I couldn’t just take Phaedra’s word for it, and I doubted the other demons would appreciate it if I told them this was animal cruelty.

“First,” I said, raising my hand before Phaedra could place her hand on the button, “tell me, what is the substance inside the orb? A creation of yours, but what is its purpose? Say it plainly.”

She smiled. “Yes, Dark Lord. Originally formulated in my laboratory, we can mass-produce at scale.” Her eyes glinted as if she were pleased with herself.

I raised an eyebrow. “And what are the ingredients?”

“The blood of a succubus, to instill terror when vaporized, and a thimble of incubus semen as a binding agent.” I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that last ingredient, though I tried to stay composed. “Imp urine as a thinner. A mixture of fungal spores to cause hallucinations. The ingredients are heated to boiling and distilled into a purified mixture, then infused with Void mana harvested from the vents beneath Dreadthorn. This last part, the precise incantation and the ideal mana concentration, took years of rigorous experimentation to perfect. The final product is utterly devastating.” I detected a note of pride in her voice.

Something like fear-inducing, hallucinogenic mustard gas? It seemed both sad and somehow unsurprising that I had been summoned to a fantasy world in time for the demons to discover alchemical weapons.

I had waited too long without asking another question. Phaedra flicked the lever, and the hammer sprang down and shattered the small orb. As if already knowing what was to come, the lizard scratched the side of the tank with its claws, feet scrambling in the sand. As the gas spread, the tank’s air turned from clear to a glowing orange haze.

Once the haze reached the lizard, it stopped running and instead began to shake on its legs. Its heart beat quickly, and I watched it pound against the lizard’s ribs, expanding and contracting twice per second, if not faster.

After an agonizingly long moment, the lizard fell to the ground and began to spasm.

“I see,” I said carefully, trying to keep my voice level even as I watched the creature’s last shuddering gasps of life. Watching that poor creature unnerved me on some deep level I wasn’t sure I fully understood until, in a flash, a memory surfaced in my mind. Back on Earth, I’d had a bearded dragon for a pet, a little guy named Spike—I suppose I hadn’t been very inventive.

I blinked my eyes and tried to bring myself back to the present. I knew I needed to seem interested, even pleased, rather than horrified. “This is deployed with siege weaponry?”

“It could be, Master,” she said. “Or dropped by the Winged Legion.”

I turned to my right. “What are your thoughts on that, Captain?”

“They appear to be an effective weapon,” Lucifron replied, “though could be difficult to aim in the wind.”

I nodded. It was easier to discuss the practicality of the weapon than to watch Phaedra’s poor test subject, whose body let out one last tremor before growing still.

“They are extremely effective,” Shatterbone said. “Thanks to Priestess Midnight’s invention, our victory is guaranteed. Once Sun-Domia is no longer protected by her weak, mortal army, our Lord and Master will be able to deal with the wretched Goddess of Light directly.” Shatterbone looked at me meaningfully, a toothy grin splitting his face.

I smiled back at him, trying to project confidence I didn’t feel. Sure, General. After you gas her army, I’ll go and fight a literal goddess for the fate of your world. No problem.

“I’m eager for that confrontation,” I said, wishing I had a glass of water for this damned meeting, as my mouth had become very dry all of a sudden. “Can’t wait.”

“I know your legions have failed you in past crusades,” Shatterbone continued. “This time, the Goddess’s Army will be reduced to madness, and we will crush them. Their numbers, their training, their equipment—all irrelevant, my Lord.”

The rest of the meeting proceeded in a blur as Shatterbone explained the details of our strategy—essentially, to bait the Alliance into attacking us and then bombarding both their army and their path of retreat with Phaedra’s gas. It was a sound strategy, as far as I could tell, not that I knew anything of warfare.

While I wasn’t keen on using such a weapon, considering the daunting position the demons found themselves in, and the consequences if they lost, I understood why Phaedra would have gone down this road and why the other demons wouldn’t balk in the slightest at using it. After all, the Geneva Conventions were not a thing here.

But for the rest of the meeting, I was only halfway paying attention. Because after Phaedra’s display, I’d decided there was only one reasonable plan—to run from here as fast and as far I could, either with Mona or without her.

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

As the meeting concluded, I nodded at each of my underlings in turn until my gaze fell upon Phaedra, a woman who now unnerved me almost as much as Shatterbone. “You were right to bring this to me,” I said, nodding. “It is satisfactory, Priestess Midnight.” It seemed like what I was probably expected to say, and I was trying to follow Mona’s advice.

Phaedra beamed at me proudly, then bowed. “You honor me, Dark Lord.”

There would be more meetings in the following days, but since the Alliance’s army wasn’t on the move as far as we knew, and the depths of Winter would soon be upon us, we had plenty of time to prepare. It was a small consolation, but I would take what I could get.

Thankfully, I hadn’t felt anything among the military staff but an eagerness for battle and unwavering faith, especially after Phaedra’s demonstration. As best I could tell, none of them suspected me. Were they all so naive? Did they not know what to expect from their god, considering how long it had been since their Lord was last among them? Their god, I supposed, had just been a figure in a Book to them until yesterday.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Or perhaps it was the opposite. They all suspected me, were already plotting something, and I wouldn’t know I was doomed until their axes hewed me open in the night.

As we left, Ilmatar followed a few steps behind me into the elevator. He’d said nothing during the meeting and was silent now. “What’s next on my schedule, Majordomo?” I asked him, as the elevator began its smooth ascent back to my chambers.

He started as if surprised by my voice, then blinked. “My Lord, you have a private lunch with the High Priestess, followed by two hours of quiet reflection. That will be followed by preparations for the Feast of Return this evening, followed by the feast itself, and then evening services in the main temple.”

“Ah yes, the Feast,” I said automatically, as if it was something I had known about all along. We reached my chambers, and I walked through the doors as the guards saluted me. I looked around, my eyes searching for Mona, my mind racing with everything I wanted to ask her. But the room was empty.

“She’ll be up shortly,” Ilmatar said. “Can I do anything else for you, my Lord?”

“Before you go…” I wanted to know what had prompted Ilmatar’s muted silence, though I had an idea. “What did you think of that meeting?”

“I, uh… It is a powerful weapon, my Lord.”

“It disquiets you,” I said. He didn’t respond, which seemed as much of an admission as I would get. “You didn’t know about this before?”

His eyes widened. “No, my Lord, or else I would have told you earlier. I … was not privy to those discussions.”

I nodded. So Ilmatar was at the official military council meetings, but not the backroom meetings where the real decisions were probably made. The other officers hadn’t seemed to know what to expect, so they’d likely not been in the loop either. I wondered if Darkstar had known. The winged cambion had betrayed little emotion during the reveal.

“What about it do you not like?”

“I… It is foolish for me to say, my Lord, but you did ask for my honesty before, so … this does not feel honorable.”

That wasn’t what I had expected a demon to be concerned about. He was right of course, it was dishonorable, in the way all war had to be. Doubly so when you were probably going to lose if you played fair. When it came down to it, sometimes your choices were either moral flexibility, or death.

“I agree, it isn’t,” I said. “But if honor means dying in the muck, I understand why Priestess Midnight might wish to seek an alternative.”

Not that I’ll be around when they decide to use it. I’ll be gone, or found out, by then. I don’t want to be here for Demon World War Whatever.

“I do understand that Master, of course,” Ilmatar said, his voice cracking at the end. He was still afraid of me, I thought. But he had told me something that he’d had every reason to expect I probably didn’t want to hear. I hoped he would learn, in time, that I wasn’t going to stab him for his opinions.

“Perhaps we won’t need to use this new weapon,” I offered. “It all depends on how the war unfolds.”

Ilmatar nodded, though he did not appear convinced. “As you say, Master.”

I felt a presence arriving to meet me from the elevator, a burning ember rising from below, and walking quickly towards us. Mona entered, lowering the hood of her robes, smiling at me with her fangs showing, standing in the flickering blue light of the wall sconces by the doorway.

“Mona,” I said, noticing Ilmatar flinch at the nickname. I wondered if he had ever heard her called that before. “I trust that services were well attended?”

“The congregation is in good spirits, my Lord. They are eager to see you in the flesh this evening.”

I nodded. “The Feast of Return.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “I wish you would have reminded me this morning.”

She bowed her head. “Of course, Master. My oversight. After all…” She paused for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully, then smirked. “We were just so tied up.”

The Majordomo was lingering by the doorway, as if he enjoyed being a witness to this. “You may leave now, Ilmatar,” I said pointedly. “You can have our lunch brought in when it’s ready.”

With a bow, he backpedaled from the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mona looked me in the eyes as I approached her, raised her hand, then slapped herself on the cheek. She rolled her eyes back in her head and shouted, “No, Master! I’m sorry!” She slapped herself again, hard enough I could hear a stinging smack against her skin, and I cringed. “I’m sorry, Master,” she said, loud enough I knew they could hear her outside. “I won’t forget like that again.”

I’d stopped short from her, so now she closed the distance, leaned into me, and whispered in my ear, “It’s something you would do. I did forget to tell you, after all.”

“I suppose you did, Mona.” I wanted to take her hands and kiss them, then kiss her cheek where the flesh had turned a dark red. “How was church?”

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s hard to lead a prayer you no longer believe in as of yesterday. So I had to improvise. How about you?”

“I don’t think they suspect me yet if that’s what you’re asking.”

She nodded. “Good. And the war itself? What is Phaedra up to?”

“We need to leave,” I said. “Hide somewhere.”

“And where would we go?” she asked.

“As far as we can get.” I thought of the two kingdoms, Ophidium and Arachnia, our former allies, who were now at war. Even among the nations not fighting Sun-Domia, I wondered how much safety could be found in this world. “I was hoping you’d tell me, actually. Where could we go?”

She looked at me, and for the first time, I could see a measure of fear in her eyes, a bit of doubt as to the path ahead. “We can’t go anywhere. How could we even leave the tower without someone noticing? Is it really so bad? How do you know we’re going to lose?”

“I don’t,” I said. “What worries me more is that we might win.”

She looked puzzled for a moment. “I… I don’t understand, Master.” Her eyes narrowed, her old anger at me returning, and I supposed that once again she would treat me like a fool. Perhaps she even had a point. Ilmatar’s concerns aside, none of the other demons seemed to care. “Then what’s the problem? Do you have sympathy for the humans? For the elves?”

“I’m not…” I looked down at my hands, a lighter color on the skin of my palms and a deeper red on my arms. No body hair, and when I looked closely, I could see my skin glinted in the light. It looked like countless tiny scales. “I’m not human any more. So, no, not sympathy, exactly…” I said.

“Good,” she said. “I’m glad you’ve made peace with that. The humans will grant you no mercy, Master. Human mothers tell their children stories about you to keep them from wandering into the woods at night, lest they be devoured. All of humankind will celebrate your death.”

In truth, part of me wondered if, when faced with my new “enemies,” I would have trouble trying to kill them or ordering them to be killed. I wasn’t sure if I had ever killed anyone in my past life. But from the way my heart thumped at the idea, and my memories of working in a museum, I wondered if I was even capable of violence. I thought of Phaedra’s poor lizard in its tank, and Spike, my old friend—if I had such empathy for them, how could I ever make peace with slaughter?

“Phaedra invented some kind of alchemical … agent,” I said, not knowing what to call it. “If it were to be released on an army during battle, it would be devastating, supposedly. Mona, on my planet, we already went through this kind of thing, and it wasn’t pretty even for the side who won. And even if we win, I don’t see myself surviving longer than about a second trying to fight the Goddess of Light inside a cloud of poison gas, so…”

She nodded curtly. “I understand, Master. You are, sadly, rather weak and inept.”

I sighed. “That’s not … well, I can’t argue … but I don’t think I’m wrong. You may be a true believer, Mona, but I just learned about your god yesterday, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. I won’t charge into a battlefield covered in poison gas now that I’m finally alive again. To hell with it.”

She stepped away from me, and looked at me for a moment as if seeing me for the first time. “I suppose they would discover you, if you tried to lead the battle.”

My main concern was dying instantly rather than being discovered, but I thought her interpretation was more favorable as to my level of cowardice. “I can barely remain convincing during a sit-down meeting if I’m being honest. I don’t think I’d make it through an actual war.”

Mona nodded sadly. Her face looked disappointed as if she had expected more from me. But I didn’t understand how she possibly could have. In the end I was not a warrior, nor a god, and never would be.

But in the short term, we had far more pressing issues. “So,” I said to her, “what was all this about a feast?”