Blood dripped steadily from his claws, the crimson droplets falling onto the cold cobblestones with quiet finality. Hubertus stood motionless for a moment, staring at his hands. He had done it. His part of the deal was finished.

The bodies of the wicked lay scattered in the shadows behind him, their last breaths still clinging to the night air. The woman's vengeance was complete.

Hubertus exhaled slowly, his mind swirling with the enormity of what he'd just done. He didn’t feel regret—only the heavy weight of a dark satisfaction.

Then it came.

The air around him shimmered, and the contract appeared before him, its fiery edges crackling softly. The parchment burned to ash in an instant, consumed by an unseen force.

From the void left behind, a flickering light emerged—a faint, fragile glow that floated gently before him.

Her soul.

Hubertus reached out, his claws trembling slightly. He grasped the small, ethereal light and brought it toward the void within his chest. As the soul was absorbed, a faint warmth spread through him, though it was far from comforting. It nestled where his heart should have been, a small but potent reminder of his transformation.

Until I get my soul chamber, he thought grimly, this is where they’ll go.

A figure materialized in the distance, stepping forward with deliberate strides. It was the demon of the Order, his crimson eyes gleaming with approval.

“You’ve finished?” the demon rumbled, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Hubertus nodded, his jaw tight.

“Good,” the demon said, his tusks glinting in the faint light. “Then it’s time to get your welcome package.”

With a flick of the demon’s clawed hand, a swirling portal erupted into existence, its molten edges glowing with unearthly light.

Without hesitation, Hubertus followed.

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

The other side of the portal was a stark contrast to the dim alley they had left behind. They stepped into what looked like an ancient cathedral, its towering stone arches illuminated by flickering candlelight. The air was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with an underlying trace of sulfur.

Hubertus glanced around, his sharp eyes taking in the cracked stained glass windows and the worn pews that lined the nave. The place radiated an unsettling mixture of reverence and corruption.

At the far end of the cathedral, a priest stood at the altar, his posture calm and unbothered despite the arrival of two demons. His robes were pristine white, trimmed with crimson, and his face bore a serene, almost smug expression.

“Sinners of the flesh,” the priest said, his voice booming with a confidence that belied the ominous setting. “You’ve returned.”

The demon of the Order stepped forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow that reached the altar. “I bring a newly fleshed-out demon,” he said, his tone respectful but firm. “He is here to receive his trinket.”

Hubertus frowned, his gaze flicking between the demon and the priest. Something about the exchange felt… wrong. The priest didn’t seem the type to mingle with demons, and yet here he was, speaking to them as though it were a common occurrence.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

What kind of man deals with the Abyss so casually? Hubertus wondered. A cultist? Or something worse?

The priest’s eyes turned to Hubertus, their sharpness cutting through the air. “Ah, the apprentice,” he said, his lips curling into a faint smile. “You’ve already claimed your first soul, haven’t you?”

Hubertus hesitated but nodded.

The priest gestured for him to approach the altar. “Then step forward, young demon. Let us see if you are worthy of the gift you seek.

The altar seemed to be covered by blood, old blood.

„Now, lie on it.“ the priest said.

Hubertus hesitated. Was this really safe?

The priest’s command hung heavy in the air, echoing ominously against the cathedral's towering walls.

Hubertus glanced at the bloodied altar, the dark stains almost seeming to pulsate under the flickering candlelight. His hesitation deepened. Lying on an altar covered in old blood, surrounded by demons and a priest, didn’t exactly scream “safe.”

“You’re unsure,” the priest said, his serene smile twisting into something darker. “That’s good. Doubt tempers the unworthy.”

Hubertus’ eyes flicked to the Demon of the Order, who stood silently, his crimson eyes unyielding. The priest’s earlier words circled in his mind, sharp as daggers: Let us see if you are worthy.

“What is this?” Hubertus asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping up his spine.

The priest’s smile widened. “A test. One every demon must endure to claim their trinket.”

“Lie down,” the Demon of the Order growled, his voice dripping with authority.

But something was off. Hubertus could feel it in his core—the whispers of his consumed heart stirring faintly, warning him of danger.

His thoughts churned as he pieced it together. Why is the trinket being given by a priest? Why is the Order of Flames, a faction of demons, working with someone who should, by all rights, be their enemy?

Hubertus took a step back, his calculating gaze locking onto the priest. “You won’t leave without the soul I harvested, will you?”

The Demon of the Order sneered, stepping closer. “Hubertus van Schnecken, did you truly think there would be no consequences for what you’ve done in life and death? This isn’t the dream you sought. It’s the hell you’ve brought upon yourself. Now lie on the altar and be cleansed.”

A dark grin spread across Hubertus’ face. Cleansed? They thought they could catch him off guard? Clearly, they didn’t know him well enough.

He reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out the summoning scroll that Feral had given him. Its surface shimmered like molten amber, radiating a faint warmth.

“What’s this?” the priest hissed, his serene demeanor cracking as he narrowed his eyes.

Hubertus didn’t answer. Instead, he let the scroll ignite in his hands. Flames danced along its surface as it burned away, filling the air with the scent of scorched earth.

In an instant, the flames swirled into the shape of a portal, and three figures stepped through.

Feral, with his worm-infested face twisting in grim satisfaction. Carl, his fiery horns flaring brighter than ever. And the Lady from the Office.

The priest’s eyes widened, though his composure quickly returned. “So, you’ve brought company,” he said, his voice regaining its unshaken calm.

Feral was the first to speak, his deep, gravelly tone dripping with menace. “You, a priest, have dealings with demons? How curious.” He glanced around, his crimson eyes narrowing. “No wonder we’ve been unable to trace certain… offerings.”

The Demon of the Order faltered, stepping back. “This isn’t what it looks like,” he growled, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” the Lady from the Office cooed, her melodic voice laced with venom. “And now we know why.”

The tension thickened as the priest’s smile faded completely. Then, with a flick of his hand, a glowing rune appeared in the center of the cathedral. It expanded rapidly, its intricate lines weaving into a vast, binding circle that enveloped them all.

Chains of glowing light erupted from the rune, snaking around each demon and forcing them to their knees. Even the priest was ensnared, though he stood defiantly, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“Did you really think we hadn’t prepared for this?” the priest sneered, his voice booming through the cathedral. “We knew a newbie would be brought here. You thought you could expose us? Foolish.”

The demons struggled against the chains, their fiery eyes blazing with fury. But Hubertus?

Hubertus snickered, a sound that sent chills through the room.

All according to plan, he thought.

“You’re right,” Hubertus said aloud, his voice dripping with mockery. “This was never about getting a trinket. It was about uncovering the truth—and now, I’ve got exactly what I wanted.”

His words sent a ripple of unease through the room.

“What are you playing at?” the priest growled, his composure slipping.

Hubertus’ grin widened, his blood-red eyes gleaming with dark delight. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one who can set a trap.”