Qing crouched, glaive at the ready, unable to tear his eyes from the elite monster plodding towards him from the shadows. The acrid stench of chemicals made his eyes water, yet, he barely blinked. The monster towered over the chamber, reminding him of nothing as much as the Butchers, except where the butcher had been made from two, Qing couldn't tell how many, or what, creatures had been used to make this.

And it only had one head. An extremely unique head.

Where its body was a fusion of skeletal and demonic features, with multiple spindly arms ending in an array of alchemical tools and weapons, its face was the end goal for male influencers.

Then and there, Qing knew a new meme would be made back on Earth. There was a new poster child for the mega chad. The Alchemancer had a chin to cleave wood, cheekbones that promised painful childbirths, and lips to make a duck jealous.

As it approached, the lesser demons and imp-like creatures scurried into the darkness, and Qing felt a cold descend. Not one born from temperature, like the Howling Expanse. This was more insidious. The Alchemancer's presence seemed to drain life from the air.

Qing tightened his grip on his glaive and pulled in energy for a Magic Missile, but the Alchemancer's melodious and warm voice caught him off guard.

"Welcome, weary traveller. You have journeyed far to reach this place of creation."

Qing blinked, thrown by the disconnect between the creature's aggressive appearance and its gentle demeanour. He lowered his glaive slightly.

What fresh hell is this?

"Uhm…yes? Who are you?"

"Oh, I think you already know, do you not? You have come to my neighbourhood after all." It smiled, and it didn't look predatory at all. Then it touched a weaponless arm to its chest and bowed its head. "I am the Alchemancer."

"Erh…hi? I'm Qing?"

"Of course you are, and what a wonderful name that is, I must say. Your parents chose well, because it suits you."

"Thank you?"

"I am happy you came. It has been so lonely here in hell."

Qing was suddenly extremely aware of the corpses of the smaller monsters laying around him, and he cleared his throat. "Lonely?"

"Oh yes. Conversationalists are rather rare here in hell. Even more so those who have anything to say worth listening to."

Qing looked around at the cave and decided to play along. If the monster, and he had no doubt it was a monster. He was in hell, the place smelled of acid, brimstone, and…something horrible, and well, yes, the monster looked like a monster. Even its face. But if the Alchemancer could be bargained with, or if it would tell Qing how to shut off the energy drain, it would be worth the risk of a chat. "So, what exactly is it you do here?"

The face smiled brightly. "Oh, thank you for asking. I create." It swept its arms out wide.

"Create? Excuse my american, but this looks like a nightmare factory."

The Alchemancer laughed softly. "One's nightmare is another's perfect life, no? And where you might see chaos, I see the birth of possibilities and life."

Qing gestured at the birthing pods and the viscous, bubbling fluids. "This looks more like corruption to me."

The Alchemancer's smile didn't falter. "Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, my dear Qing. What you see as corruption, I see as transformation. Each soul that passes through here becomes something new, something... unique."

"Unique? You're twisting souls into demons!"

"Demons? Or misunderstood creations? In my work, I see the potential in every soul. I reshape them, give them new purpose. Is that not the essence of creation?"

"New purpose? In making them into demons, are you not condemning them to an eternity of suffering and violence. How can you call that art?"

"But don't you see? In their new forms, they transcend their former limitations. They become stronger, more resilient. Is that not a form of growth?"

Qing shook his head vehemently. "Growth? This isn't growth, it's perversion. You speak of understanding souls, but do you truly know their value? These are people's essences, their very beings. Not raw materials for experiments."

"Dear Qing, I've spent eons studying souls, manipulating their very fabric. I understand them better than anyone. Sometimes I am the first person to ever understand them, more so even than those who possessed them in life. Is that not what so many year for? To be understood? Given a purpose in… afterlife?"

"That doesn't give you the right to-"

"Rights?" The Alchemancer chuckled. "There are no rights in the universe. Only power and potential. And souls... they're brimming with both. Would it not be worse to let it go to waste?"

Qing's grip tightened on his glaive. "Waste? Souls are sacred! They're not meant to be harvested or reshaped like... like clay."

"Sacred?" The Alchemancer's tone became patronising. "Tell me, Qing, are the souls of murderers and tyrants sacred? What about those who inflicted unspeakable cruelties in life?"

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

"They are still souls."

"True, but whose souls do you think I am working with? The caring father who supported his community, raising wonderful children who make the world a better place? Or the mother who made it her life's work to torture those around her, setting off a generational chain reaction leading to war and famine?"

Qing shifted uncomfortably. "But you are making demons from souls," he said, lamely.

"Yes, I am. Destruction and creation are two sides of the same coin, young Qing. To create something new, sometimes the old must be unmade. It's the natural order of things."

"There's nothing natural about this. You're not creating life, you're manufacturing suffering. Not only do these souls deserve peace, but they inflict pain and torment on those who have not yet lived. They threaten the very world of Elrydisan."

The Alchemancer's expression softened, almost pitying. "Are you sure they deserve peace?"

Qing hesitated. "I... That's not for us to judge."

"Isn't it? We have the power to reshape them, to make them useful. To transform evil into something productive. Isn't that better than letting them languish?"

"How is a demon productive? Besides, who decides? Who chooses which souls are worthy of peace and which should be... changed?"

The Alchemancer spread its many arms wide. "I do. With the wisdom of eons and the power to see into the very essence of each soul. I can discern their true nature, their potential."

Qing looked around at the horrendous cave and the processes ongoing, and he raised his arms. "But, you make demons!"

"I do. With energy siphoned from every being in hell I turn souls into useful and wonderful demons, doing my part in the never-ending cycle of life."

Qing frowned. "What exactly do you think demons do?"

"They destroy."

"How is that useful and wonderful!?"

"Without destruction, creations stagnates. The angels love sitting high on their clouds, but they make nothing. They make promises never delivered on." The Alchemancer shook his head and sighed. "No. Demons and humans are what keeps the world evolving."

As interesting as it was to have an actual conversation with a demon, Qing had a quest to complete. "Tell me more about the energy you use. How do you get it?"

"How does a tax man get the funds? I siphon it from every being and funnel it here."

"How does it work?"

The monster raised an arm ending in a metallic drill up and tapped the side of its nose. "That is a good question. Let me pose one to you instead. How much does your friends matter to you?"

"If you attempt to harm them, I will strike you down," Qing said, and prepared to blink.

The alchemancer raised its eyebrows, and said, "Oh, let us not ruin this beautiful day with violence. It would be such a waste. No. I have no need to fight you. All I need to is increase the production of demons and it will drain your friends dry. You might survive, but them? They are not so strong, are they."

"Won't you kill the demons too?"

"Only the weak ones. And after centuries without battle we have so many of them. You are special, Qing. If not to reduce the drain on your friends' life force, why else would you have made your way here to my realm? Let me make you an offer, my friend. Give me a bit of what you have so much of and I will halt the production of demons until you and your friends have left."

Should I just attack?

The demon's voice was so smooth and relaxing, if he'd closed his eyes, he could imagine he was talking to a reasonable and logical being. But this monster… How could anything good come from negotiating with it?

But could it really be harmful to hear it out?

"What do you want?" he found himself asking.

"There is only one person in the world like you. One whose blood is infused with the essence of two worlds." Seemingly from nowhere, The Alchemancer brought forth a needle and a glass vial the size of Qing's thumb. "Share with me a few thimbles of your blood and I will give you the help you seek."

Qing stared at the needle, feeling sick to his stomach. He'd been wounded what felt like a million times and had lost more blood than any Earthling had and survived. Yet something about this made his alarm bells ring.

"What do you want with it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Kind of, yeah."

The Alchemancer waved his arms around, indicating the cave. "How long would you survive, locked in this cave? Forced to do the same thing, day in and day out. There are only so many ways of making demons, you know. Each one of them are special and I love them dearly, but…" Its eyes widened, and for the first time, a tint of madness shone through. "Your blood holds power. The power to break free from this place. With it I can walk in realms never seen before by my kind. Realms beyond our understanding. I could, no, I would, be their benevolent ruler, designing not demons, but entire worlds into the perfect utopias!" It grinned at Qing. "Think of all the creatures I could help." It stepped towards Qing, its multitude of arms waving independently. "The souls, Qing, think of the souls. Oh, the flavours there must be. The variation. The succulence…" Its eyelids half-closed and a shiver ran through its body.

"So, my blood buys safety for my friends, and freedom for you, I got that right?"

"Yes, Qing. Let us make the most out of this beautiful day. Save the little girl and trap the demons in hell forever. And all you need do is free a soul from imprisonment. What could be better?"

"Well, for a starter, why were you put into hell in the first place?"

The Alchemancer threw a hand up. "Who even knows anymore. It was aeons ago. No matter what it was, surely no-one deserves to suffer forever, do they?"

"Well…"

"Look around you, Qing. This has been my hell for more years than you have lived hours. Save the people of Elrydisan from apocalypse, and your Earth with it."

"I'm not quite sure-"

"Let me sweeten the deal with a promise," the Alchemancer said.

What if its just a trick and it uses my blood to bind or destroy me?

The monster must have misunderstood Qing's hesitation for interest, because it smiled widely.

"Ah, I see you are indeed interested in being my friend. Good, good." It licked its lips and looked around as if to make sure nobody listened, then it put a hand ending in a scalped the size of a shovel next to its mouth. "In exchange for your blood, I will not only turn off hell's drain, but I promise to leave Earth alone." It waggled its eyebrows.

"Oh. That is…"

Not something I had considered at all.

"…most kind of you," Qing finished.

"I can be a good ally," the Alchemancer said. "Or a horrible enemy, of course. One supported by a near infinite army of demons, ready to do my bidding."

"Give me a moment," Qing said. "I need to sort my thoughts."

"By all means, friend. Take the needed time. Your friends are not dead, yet," the monster said, and snapped its fingers. As it did, hundreds of the monsters Qing had seen before scuttled in to surround them.

He nearly cast Arcane Explosion by reflex, but not a one touched him. They just gathered around and stood there, staring at him, like the old guys he'd seen that one time at a stripclub in the middle of the day when he'd walked in with a delivery of wood. They'd completely ignored him, only staring vacantly at the augmented lady twirling on a pole. This was nearly as awkward.

Can I beat him?

That was Qing's first thought, because if he couldn't, what was there to think about?

If I'm not sure, can I afford not to take him up on his offer? But, I might be dooming another world to save my own? An unknown world. It could be uninhabited? And maybe his plan wouldn't even work and he'd be stuck here anyway… with my blood.

Qing took a deep breath, shook out his arms, and cracked his neck.

What the hell am I supposed to do?