Anatidaes had no nasty appearance on their own, representing something considered normal. It was up to the image of Gods who envisioned a perfect pet. Their matter was the exact opposite of some visions in their deepness.
The acts and instincts of their Bloodline and prevalent ancestry made them monsters. For them, it was an honor and past that mattered—the memory. A reminder that Gods were the ones who cursed them with the reality of creation. For those seeing them, what mattered was how they acted, and how the world perceived them, for they were no inherent monsters. It was their creation that made them into something incoherently wrong.
Well, or terribly, some didn't care for it. It was a species with a history of unbound hatred for rules or normalcy. They hated the world. They despised Gods.
Murai suited quite well for that vision, Lisa often imagined that in her silence, or was it the Fate?
Across the human Surface, they weren't much of a threat as long as one looked at history. There were all kinds of disasters walking on two legs alone, while some had no legs at all, or many of them instead. Monsters that rarely made their appearances held different reputations from those that were like walking or flying disasters. Legends, catastrophes, or threat levels were known across the Surface powers for a reason, depicting certain species—or individuals—as incredibly dangerous.
In the demonic worlds of Hells, things went in another direction because control of power and insanity was different from Surface-level consideration. Hell, most Gods didn't care for rules, but mortals did since the beasts rampaged very often because they were the ones hated by the Divides. Gods had desires where morality was less cherished, making a place for powerful acts.
Thus, stories or legends spread by work of acts or mouths, often depicting long history or personal experiences, spoke of Anatidaes and many other creatures. Depending on the location or the said legends, some were considered more intense than others. Here, in Hellscape, this place felt the terror of Anatidaes personally. Some dragons didn't come here and no divine wolves visited it either. Some were exaggerated; others were truthful to the bone.
Murai didn't care half as much as he should about the goblin's attitude and emotions. He felt his quivering soul, questionable mood, and his trembling hands barely kept those coins. He should disappear and get him some food. That was what he thought was more fitting.
Whatever Murai had in mind, asking about some rumors, why he was scared, or how Anatidaes went around this place, those were all questions he could get out of this goblin. It was what he used to desire and want in Gate 2, hunting, and looking for a soul to speak to. He got it in some sense. Long Zi was... not that, but Manager Kil, Mindarch, Lisa, and mainly, Amelius, did tell him many things. That desire disappeared or lessened because of them and... food. He didn't care if he was a monster. He didn't want to be a starving monster.
He cared for the incoming feast that wouldn't be his doing for the first time. Well, that time in that cave was basically one large buffet caused by that little Devil Fox. That was weeks ago, behind a time when Iris fed and healed him poorly, and she didn't even know how or what such monsters as Anatidaes usually ate. She offered meat and bones. That was it. At least Murai seared or flamed them himself.
Back then, he had no choice but to take what she had, and even if she was quite generous in her hospitality, time was rough.
Goblin disappeared soon enough, fleeting for his life with gladness, yet knowing it wasn't over. The order was substantial, but payment was a payment. He went to a kitchen where the head chef hyped the cooks to cook the meals of their lives, lest they would get hunted or done much worse.
Involuntary, as Murai waited for his meal on top of the table, Iris's face appeared in his mind again. This time, he didn't shoo it away, ignore it, or feel as if it was something wrong like a curse. He wondered where she was, what happened to her and Timmy, and how come it was happening again. Was it his fault the kids disappeared, or was it Ceila's fault? She was the one who took them on a dangerous journey that she couldn't predict. And it backfired against them terribly, so what to think of them?
Murai felt it was somewhat his fault, because where had it all started? Timmy found him half-dead; Iris healed him. They all helped him where none could, while Vermillion and Ceila happened afterward. Aftermath was either a work of Fate or simple cause and effect.
One should accept the consequences of one's actions. Murai believed in that logic, yet what was his living about again? Misery....cycle, balance, or something worse or different?
Either way, after he did nothing, the Encounter commenced, forcing upon him a Fate that was wrapping him whole alongside many other figures. But that was wrong. Those kids were the outer victims, far too detached from his little life. Their disappearance could've been a simple attack against Ceila or Vermillion. Iris seemed important to them anyway. That was just his guess or a mistake that Vermillion hadn't expected. Where was she now, ignoring it as her shining chance arrived?
Murai had no clue about Vermillion and what she had done behind the scenes, or how she was clutching Ravine in her grasp. He didn't want to know anything, frankly. But the kids? He was almost certain they were in the hands of the Centralis Kingdom. Who else was involved at that time? If anything, Lisa made some certainty that he understood what was happening and what was at stake. Those three killed messiahs back in the Seventh Death Forest were perfect memory food for her, as well as a reminder.
Murai thought of the past before meeting them. There was Rain, that cave, and Acaman Tower. Lisa was part of one thing alone. There, he spoke with a questionable God, and even Lordis himself sent him some words. Nothing about it seemed like something to do with those kids. All logic went to the Surface, but ever since that mansion and those lunatics appeared, he had no clue about the bigger picture. Lisa didn't know the details either because those messiahs weren't aware of detailed topics.
Since then, things changed. He had his hunt, time for his progression, and places to beat. This temple changed his focus. He could only hope they remained in a good place, safe and sound, and that Vermillion wouldn't betray them because of him, Encounter, or other situations that were far above his head.
Lisa glanced at him, learning his worries that were half surprising and half sunken on his face and soul. She was feeling him like a very complicated book, menacing, hard to tame, and impossible to read in full. Floating right above the cushioned chair, she was right beside him. He decided to hop down, waiting on the cushion, spreading his feet and wings wide. He even put his hoodie on; he found it kind of hard for him to do, but after some tries, he succeeded.
Lisa roughly knew from her connection what he was pondering about, and where his worries were, yet there was nothing she could tell him. She was out of touch with these sorts of things. Frankly, she didn't care about it.
It was out of her sight, as she wasn't even sure why he cared or thought about those kids. She had never seen them. She wasn't there, but it was clearly out of his touch, power, or hand. Too much force went for his life in that intense time when she slept, and he disappeared before they even mattered.
She believed they weren't his problem, considering the situation and everything surrounding him. He had his worries. Lisa and him, their lives and souls were tangled together like strands of Fate, whilst the best choice for her was to ignore his thoughts. Perhaps it wasn't a good thing for everyone but her.
Very often, she spoke to him simply because she wanted to know him better. Her questions weren't even that important half the time. Waiting wasn't that good; so were hesitation, or terrible topics. It helped her, yet it worked in one direction. She doubted Murai was nearly half as curious about her as those kids. It was her guess. It might be wrong.
Murai was glancing at the page of meals that the goblin forgot to take. It was taking a while for the food to appear, which was one thing he always hated about restaurants. When he prepared his meal, it wasn't the same as waiting for others. That, or perhaps some personal cook wouldn't hurt.
“It takes them bloody ages,” Murai complained. “Would caught and ate a cow already if I hunted and killed my meal.”
“Calm down, it's been just five minutes. Half an hour is the usual time to take even half of what you want. Wait an hour or more since you ordered so much.” Lisa argued and whispered. It had limited effects since she couldn't control her physical voice all that well.
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“I know... Hunger does that to an Anatidae, duck... or whatever I am. Anyway, now that we have time, what about the plan brewing in your head for days? I got the idea that you are plotting something behind those Cages with Lorry, and you mentioned it before. What is it that you want to do? That skull isn't in the picture, so that leaves me curious.”
Lisa glanced at his curious face. It suppressed hunger, and when he got curious, he sounded impressive and domineering. “Wants are one thing. Some things around this situation need some clarity before action. I don't think this tavern has the information gathering that I want. For food, it is good, so I want a clear plan for you. Is that enough to let you remain calm and steady?” She said as she glanced around the tavern.
There was a single floor, but with an elevated ceiling and many rows, private booths, and limited gaps and walls between the tables, there wasn't much privacy. She met a few gazes that went in their direction, but they soon turned away or disappeared when she glanced back. There were many curious and also dangerous-looking people. Lisa saw and knew this enough. These places reeked of problems. There were dozens of figures looking suspicious: bearing cloaks, pretending to speak to one another, or being busy doing nothing.
And at some point—she didn't know when—there were more guests and visitors in the tavern than when she arrived. More tables were full at least, so she started to speak to him with her mind alone.
“Seems to me this place is the same as ever. I feared something less, but it was still larger than I anticipated. Maybe your species is a tad tougher topic in this Gate than it should be, unlike my time here. Never heard much about Anatidaes back then.”
“Oh? I thought they questioned, scoffed, and wondered why a ghostly succubus would appear here. Hadn't seen many ghosts around the city floating around, you see. From what I can tell, a ghost doesn't exist as clearly as yourself, Lisa.”
“Says an Anatidae that is basically a duck with charitable Bloodlines and whatnot. Oh, and wearing a hoodie of all things. Hilarious.” Lisa retorted, half certain he was joking and half certain he was serious.
“You are right about one thing...” Murai said calmly, spreading his wings as he lay like a half-death duck on a cushion. “This one has a nice soul and hoodie to accommodate for its feathers. Isn't that nice?”
“Can't give you a single word to care about that. Same as me, species matters when time and the world are ready or we are. Do you feel the tension around this tavern and city? I took you for someone sensible. Something weird is going on. I can feel it.”
“Well, perhaps so, but I've never been here, and not like I really care. We aren't getting what we all want, so... I will eat soon, so how about talking again? Information gathering might be nice and all, though this place is tense as you've said. Can you manage to get what you want? My quacks will hardly help you with anything unless my beak and feet will put some demons onto their knees. HA!” Murai chuckled as he pictured something hilarious and ridiculous at the same time.
Lisa couldn't tell much to him. He was half right anyway. His Token was quite powerful on its own, but it was a curse also. It was a Token that normal denizens took with reverence, but not fear, while others took it for something else. Something changed and it wasn't his species that did it.
“I will take you for your words.” Lisa said, “This tavern isn't enough for me. I will go out and visit some places on my own. I need money and use some of the valuables in your pouch. Can I have your agreement in this matter?”
“When did you need my agreement to do what you wanted? I care about few things, and money isn't one of them.” Murai said as he gave her a long look for once.
“That is wrong.” Lisa retorted, floating closer to his face. “There are all kinds of monetary ways around the Hells. Gold coins are only acting as a measure of the Surface. It is all about value what others decide after all, or the market does it in many layers and powers.”
Murai agreed with that. Iris mentioned something about money that week.
But Hells were different from the Surface.
“Essences, information, and even potions are another value to the money. Then, many valuable materials rich in mana are worth something else, or more. Then, we have the Hell Points which is the most prized currency in this place. It is basically what you've gotten so far, but each Gate hinders its worth, disallowing you to think of it as something bigger because you can't store it as you go down. That isn't the case for anyone in this place. It is their gold.”
“Is that so?” Murai didn't believe it. Money and valuable stuff went hand in hand. He saw plenty of worlds without any money in sight, which always elevated trading businesses. It usually created more problems than solved them.
“Points are more than some systematic money made of rich or abundant materials.” Lisa continued. “They are mere ideas. Like a piece of soil, yet it is worth more. Then, we have the people. Every merchant group in Hellscape cares about the Challengers. They are going through these Gates like rich pouches full of something valuable. So be it essences, loot in general, or things from the Surface, it is what?”
“Walking targets, huh?” Murai guessed. “I suppose gangs love that idea because I have looted two Gates. Is that it?”
“Yes. It's that simple. It is all about money, but money isn't everything. I am sure you know that. Deep in your head and lives that aren't as sensible to you as you wish.”
“Yeah. I know that the truth sometimes hurts, but it doesn't change my interest. I always take what I can; be it helpful or worthy something close or far. Points were fine for that idea like a temporary bliss, and so were those gold coins, essences, and other things. It was all offered for me anyway, free for my taking, while some points are another value this place sets like gold. I wasted none, but the mere idea I could grinds my nerves. They would become utter waste! Why can't I keep them if they are currency in this Gate anyway?”
“So? What are you trying to tell me?” Lisa said impatiently.
“I did take what I did, and did it with some care since shedding blood for them hadn't felt particularly good, did it? Got my idea?” He argued, choosing to send these words to her head rather than quacking like a duck. It was a good idea. No one would like to listen to his high or low-pitched quacks in this tavern.
He had at least some conscience and awareness to be in this society with some minor adjustments. Society should better adjust to him too, but he wasn't that insensible to be an utter monster without any regard. Being in the presence of many demons didn't help, yet Murai wasn't nervous.
He had some power to be confident.
Most of the figures in this place were either cautious, intelligent, or both, meaning that their level and abilities weren't low. They didn't want to go against the rules of Helltrim City, nor were there those who wanted some quick problems. For now anyway.
There were no unhinged beasts, but some demons weren't far from them at all. Their physical appearance twisted the common sense of many lifeforms, but in this tavern, most looked like crazy-looking humans, similar to the bartender.
Murai speculated that the average level of this tavern was quite high by now, though he had no way to find any specifics. Some of the figures had unique uniforms consisting of wooden plates, leather, bones, or parts of stones or metals. Those with the best-looking outer appearance mostly ate or drank in silence, ignoring Murai, or his table and existence.
So yes. There could be some Extremes hiding somewhere, as he couldn't really know who was strong or not. Those above Level 50 were already above him; he didn't see them any better in guesses or his Soul Read. The power of the souls didn't indicate or correspond that well with Levels anyway. Some beings had much better-empowered minds, and the more intelligent ones got, the tougher it was to think of their levels and souls. In that sense, the level was somewhat overrated, or straight up unnecessary. It was like a weak token of accomplishment, condition, or achievement.
One couldn't wish for them. One could only hope their acts or powers correspondened with new readings. Or, in some cases, leveling was as clear as mana. It depended on how one took the readings, lived in this world, or where. Some continents took the mantle of levels for something different. In Somalis, it was like an achievement and power itself depending on how powerful one was.
Murai figured that relying on Soul Read to read any power was kind of obsolete. For now, he had no itch to do anything other than wait patiently without offending anyone like Lisa wanted. So did he.
Lisa heard his ideas again, so she crossed her arms, glaring a hole into his eyes.
She didn't speak.
“Fine,” Murai growled. “I misspoke. At least you've got the gist of my ideas, so take and get whatever you deem worth and well. I trust you won't be stupid to waste what I shed blood for. If you get it—” Lisa floated closer, grabbed his pouch from his pocket, and disappeared into the tavern, leaving Murai speechless and silent. He had yet to finish his words, yet he wasn't surprised to see her like this. Her mind was set on her plans for days. That was one of the few things he knew about her. When she decided on something, there was no point in changing it.
Murai knew the need for information and efficiency was high. She can work alone for that, but this wasn't only about it. What left him speechless was the fact that she didn't even remind him to be calm and not do stupid shit. If he was honest, that shocked him more than her demands for his pouch.
He had no plans to do that even if he had to, but what if some stupid shit reached out to him instead? What than?
The situation around the whole tavern changed the moment Lisa disappeared, leaving the tavern completely from the front door. She kept Murai's Token on the table before going back to the Velvet District. With a ring and a pouch in hand, she was ready for her information gathering. Nobody will stop her.
At some corner—sitting amongst a couple of shrouded figures—an old-looking devil stood up, notable by long curved horns on top of his head, and a black robe over his straight and surprisingly buff body. He was seamless in his act, unnerved, and went straight for Murai's table. He was old and patient, thus not fearful of Murai's status. It was a wonder why he made his move after Lisa left. He looked at Murai, who couldn't care less for more than a rare rest on a soft cushion. He even got comfortable after knowing his food wouldn't arrive quickly.
“So yet another Anatidae appeared and tensed the already bad situation in this place? My old eyes hadn't deceived me,” the devil said in a raspy voice. “You want some food, huh? Here in the Hellhole?”
From his facial features, he had most resemblances to a human elder, and out of many inhuman beings fetched through demonic roots, devils were often sensible, or straight-up insane. Nothing in between. Their Bloodline secured that idea, as some believed them to be Sons of Chaos. Sucubuses were the polar opposite to them, with questionable moods and personalities, but equal styles and impressions.
Devils—like succusses—could change their appearance, but they often put more emphasis on different demanding changes. Ending results were part of their Bloodline, family, clans, or Paths. Hence, many had their differences and specific characteristics, walking steadily side by side with Chaos, or touching things from the internal side of their hearts.
But more often than not, they didn't want to be different from the normal devils or humans. It was about the horns on their heads, two legs, and two arms. Anything else was fine to change thanks to the politics of many of their clans, families, and reputable Bloodlines that ranged from poor to the kind that Gods feared.
Devil Horns were their most distinct feature, while long human arms and fingers, pointy or slender ears, and elegant demeanor weren't irregular even for insane devils. Most of the devils had some royal feeling to them; to make themselves look better than others. It was in their Bloodlines. Those that aged well, or had very potent Bloodlines, one should never think of them as poor. They were often arrogant and extremely narcissistic.
Their ceilings for power were wild, common sense was... debatable, and intelligence was variable, though often very good. That was why Murai hadn't fought any in the Islands of Greatness, which was still strange. He bet there should be devils around his level—or slightly above—that would challenge him well.
He saw some youthful devils in the Last Island; though he wasn't sure if they were worth something or not. Since he killed Uqari, they no longer impressed him, even if their abilities might've been high. Meeting some talented ones wouldn't be weird to him, considering devils as a race were old and proved to be very powerful, similar to elves and multiple other races with old roots.