Paxolnaz bobbed gently in the currents of the Interior, part of its being focused, as always, on preventing itself from reaching equilibrium.

The other part was focused on what had just happened. The significant problem it was facing.

The human was not easy prey. Paxolnaz had been whipping the entities forward harder than ever this time, and for a moment it had seemed like victory was at hand. But then the human’s will had firmed and it had actually worked out how to use its Gift, just a little. The human had pushed through the connection within it to the Interior, seeming as though it might attack the minor entities Paxolnaz was managing. By the time they had began to react, the human was already retreating.

Now, the human had firmed its will and was resisting the pressure of Paxolnaz’s subjugated entities with more vigour than ever before. It had seen the truth of what it was dealing with, which could only make it more determined and more effective at fighting back.

It does not matter. Paxolnaz turned slow circles around the ripples of the human’s mind. The human had a powerful Gift, and so victory was inevitable.

The only issue was in how long it might take for the process to be completed, and this was the matter that concerned Paxolnaz. It did not have infinite time. Daily the Master called for release, and Paxolnaz was unable to resist these calls.

Soon, that release would come. By the time it did Paxolnaz needed to have Shelled the human, or it would have no choice but to follow its Master as the Unwinder departed to find the other pieces of itself.

Paxolnaz’s gaze settled on the beings it had subjugated, which clustered tight around the ripples of the human’s mind. The human had attracted a mixed bunch from this Interior. Most of them were demons; reavers dedicated to bloodshed and rage. Alongside these were a few dark spirits, mostly death and blood focused, and a pair of twisted entities.

They were well suited to turning the human to Paxolnaz’s purposes. All of them were focused on the human’s particular weak points, the areas of its psyche which were the most outside of its conscious control. There was an almost symbiosis at work between the human and these creatures. Even as they pushed it to do the things that would feed them, they were also providing the human direction, providing it actual aid at times.

It was an odd situation, one Paxolnaz had rarely seen. The reason for this seemed to be the particular difficulty of turning this specific human, which had stymied these beings, alongside the fact that the human was willing to feed them; willing to indulge itself as its darker drives demanded, but only occasionally. As a result, these entities had become almost dog-like; eager to please, cajoling rather than demanding.

Sickening. Paxolnaz was particularly disappointed with the Demons. Even for False Demons, they were behaving in a way that Paxolnaz considered practically a stain on its species honour. It would have liked to go and gather a different group, one that would work more effectively, but it was stuck with this lot.

Already it was very close to the line the Contract drew; it was only possible to utilise this method because these entities were naturally attracted to the human, had been there and would have been there anyway. Paxolnaz was merely encouraging them to do what they did more effectively, and it couldn’t push or direct. It was only able to make them do what they would already do, but better. Anymore than that and it would run afoul of the Contract. But what they were inclined to do, naturally, was not ideal for its purposes.

This in mind, the True Demon extended tendrils towards the bunched up entities, which stared back with primitive terror. It wrapped them tight and started squeezing, sending out jolts of searing energy.

The ripples of their screams became a satisfying backdrop as Paxolnaz resumed thinking. The punishment was unlikely to change anything, as Paxolnaz couldn’t actually tell them what to do and so they wouldn’t even know why they were being punished. But perhaps it might make them more aggressive, next time. They needed to push the human! To Skin it out so Paxolnaz could jump in!

The screams grew in strength, and Paxolnaz made itself reduce the power of its flaying tendrils, even as it wished only to strengthen the punishment. It couldn’t harm them too much, that would run contrary to its purposes. As worthless as they were, they were still its best tool, and that was a problem.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Paxolnaz was sure the human would fall eventually, but it was not sure that the fall would come soon enough. It needed the human ready soon.

There was an alternative method it could employ, one which it had already attempted to push the human towards, as subtly as it could.

It had told the human about the Artifact Blade in the depths of this castle. Paxolnaz had visited the place personally, and seen that Artifact. It had been formed from a True Demon. Surely a weak one, to have been taken and used so, but a True Demon nonetheless.

Such an Artifact would be difficult even for one without the Black Gift to control. For one as Gifted as the human, it would be far more than merely difficult.

The moment the human touched that Blade, the True Demon within would invade and seek to Skin it. All this time, the human had been hovering on the edge of a precipice. Each time Paxolnaz attempted to drag it in, it managed to resist, to pull itself back out. But touching that Blade would countenance a massive push that would send the human, close to the edge as it was, plummeting into an abyss.

The moment the True Demon in the sword had Skinned the human, the human would become a different being. No longer would it be called “Nicolai.” It would simply be a slave to the Blade. This was the same process Paxolnaz was hoping to accomplish by having the subjugated entities invade the human, but it would be performed far faster.

Then, Paxolnaz would be free to move in. The True Demon in the Blade was also of the 9th Circle, but it was weak. It was actually only one third of the original being, which seemingly had been chopped up. Paxolnaz supposed the other parts of the True Demon were in other Artifacts. Beyond that, this third had been stuck in a piece of metal for decades, starved of the blood it craved. It was strong enough to be the rock that started an avalanche, breaking the human, but Paxolnaz forsaw no problems once that was completed and it itself could move in; it would bend the Blade’s Demon to its will, push it back into the Blade, and take the Skinned human for itself. This would be very useful, as Paxolnaz would be able to add to its own capabilities and power by wielding the Blade, once it had taken the human’s form.

The only problem was that in spite of impressing upon the human that the Blade would make it stronger, a fact it knew would tempt the human, so far the human was showing little desire to go and claim the weapon.

The human was far too busy playing its games with the other humans, and seeking to raise its Cultivation. This was another problem, as the higher its Cultivation the more difficult it would be to Skin. As things were, the Master might get free before the human even bothered to go and look for the sword.

Something needed to change. It was time to abandon its previous, subtle approach. Paxolnaz needed to take action and force the human to go and get the sword, to take that final step which would seal its fate.

But the Contract was a significant problem. Attempting to forcefully break or bend the Contract would only attract Heaven’s Guard.

Paxolnaz retracted its tendrils, leaving the shivering entities it had been torturing to gradually reform. It felt something that was not dissimilar to fear, as it considered the Guard. Even thinking the word led it to feel as though eyes were watching it from far, far above, and it put the word from its mind.

No, it needed another way.

Fortunately, Paxolnaz had found just that. As the war against the Core continued, down below, Symbiotes and Artifacts of more power were being wrest away from the Core’s defenders.

One of those defenders had a few Heavenly Symbiotes, and Paxolnaz had set its gaze on them. Even if none were quite the type it desired, with them it would be able to craft something fitting. It would be a limited Symbiote, as altering Heavenly Contracts was never an easy matter. Fortunately, Paxolnaz wouldn’t need to make any significant changes.

It just needed to add one extra clause. The sword, as a method of growing stronger—which the human had requested—was already, in a way, a part of the Contract. Paxolnaz only needed to add a time limit. It would alter the Contract so that the human was encouraged to get the sword. The Contract wouldn’t be bothered, because of course Paxolnaz was only doing this to fulfil its agreement.

Not only that, but the Symbiote it was considering crafting should be capable of doing a little more than just one clause. The True Demon estimated that the changes it intended should require about half of the Symbiotes’ power. It would retain the second half in case of any unexpected issues. If everything else fell through then a second clause, added at the right moment, should be enough to force the human to do what it desired.

The Master’s call would come soon; enough time had passed that its strength should have regathered.

Resume your work, the True Demon hissed to its subjugated entities.

Paxolnaz turned in a twitch and slithered through the murky energies of the Interior; through a hazy, shimmering castle that rippled and roiled as though made of mist.

This time, it would go early. It intended to seize the Heaven Path Symbiotes in the next battle, and then once the Master’s call wore off, it would start working to craft what it needed.

And soon after, the human's fate would be sealed.