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Chapter Five - The Prison

Forest, The Serpent Isles - 9th day of the Sardonyx Moon, Year 24 AH

[You have gained experience!]

[You have leveled up! 11 —> 12]

[Strength +3, Agility +3, Constitution +3, Mana +3, Will +4]

Regis lowered his sword. In front of him stood a tall tree that easily towered above its neighbors. Deep gashes and cuts ran along its thick trunk, the bark left rough and torn. The moonlight above highlighted those jagged edges, and they stood in stark contrast to the dark shadows of the surrounding forest.

The demon gazed down at his arm consideringly, turning the sword around in his hands. He’d taken it from Cyrus’s home; it appeared to be a standard-issue blade distributed to Magburg’s guards. Regis had never fought with a weapon before—he’d had little need of it when he’d had claws and fangs at his disposal—but in his current form, he’d thought it pertinent to acclimate himself to it.

He hadn’t expected to earn a level up in the process. He supposed this confirmed that there were ways to earn experience beyond killing, though the experience gain itself seemed significantly slower.

Regis studied the stat increases, noting their distribution. He didn’t fully understand the internal mechanism determining the increases, but he suspected it utilized a combination of personalized distributions and a rough summation of the actions taken that had led to the level up. Because he’d spent longer training with a sword, he’d gained more strength and constitution than he had during the last level up, but his will increase was always high as a result of the System’s individual biases.

Regis raised a hand experimentally. It shook slightly. This was likely a sign of exhaustion. Cyrus’s body, he’d found, had poor stamina, and he was still learning the signs of when it was necessary to rest. It seemed he’d pushed a bit too far tonight, but not dangerously so. He should be fine tomorrow.

The demon reached for the waterskin on his belt and took a sip. Thirst, on the other hand, was a sensation he’d quickly grown quite good at identifying. He noted to himself to refill the waterskin in the morning, as he would be traveling along a stream on the way to Barcombe.

A cool wind rustled the leaves around him. The forest was quiet tonight. A careful scan of his surroundings revealed nothing else in sight. If he was to rest, here would be a good place to do so. Regis pursed his lips. Sleeping was still not an activity he particularly enjoyed, but it was necessary to maintain his vessel’s health.

By his estimates, he would reach Barcombe tomorrow afternoon. Assuming Markus’s directions had been accurate, the prison would be located around the area. While he currently had no information regarding the prison itself, considering who it was holding, it would be well guarded. Though he’d gained a fair number of levels thus far, caution would do him well.

Regis turned towards a large crooked stone that provided reasonable cover. He moved his bag inside, and after staying up a moment longer to enjoy the breeze, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift to sleep.

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

Markus hadn’t lied. Regis found the prison located a thirty minute walk to the east of Barcombe. Here, the trees were taller, their combined canopy cloaking the building in a shadowy shroud.

The demon’s steps slowed. He ducked behind a nearby tree a fair distance away from the prison’s perimeter, where he would be able to assess the structure without being seen.

It wasn’t exceptionally large, but a fair bit bigger than one would imagine a prison housing a single prisoner would be. The grey walls were constructed of thick stone, and from his current position, he could make out engraved runes and sigils running along their surface. Alarm spells, it seemed, with a separate string for every non-human species.

Beyond the building, a tall metal gate surrounded the prison. He could see a few guards standing outside the gate, their weapons raised and shoulders tense. Two for each side of the building. He suspected news of what had happened at Magburg’s barracks had reached them, causing them to stand at higher alert. He could use that to his advantage.

Regis’s gaze shifted to the surrounding forest, but there was nothing else that he could see. His eyes narrowed. He could understand the fewer number of guards, considering that this prison’s existence was meant to be a secret, but even with the alarms on the walls, this seemed too sparse in terms of protection.

The demon glanced up at the tree he was hiding behind. Its leaves were thick, providing decent cover. He reached a hand out and tugged on one of the branches. It held firm.

Coming to a decision, Regis carefully began to climb up in slow, deliberate movements to avoid alerting the guards to his presence. Once he reached a decent enough height, he stopped and gazed down. The demon smiled.

Carved into the earth surrounding the prison was a large magic circle. From the sides, the grasses hid the runes, but like this he had a clear view of the etchings.

It was a barrier spell. The strings of runes formed an invisible web of magic that protected the prism. Regis cocked his head. From what he could see, it kept non-human species inside the barrier and only allowed humans to freely pass in and out. This type of directional barrier was rather popular, effective in its simplicity.

Regis hummed to himself as he considered his options. He wasn’t particularly worried about the barrier. In order to set specific species exclusions, a physical component was provided, typically blood or, for more powerful versions of the spell, bones. He was possessing a human body, therefore the runes would recognize him as a human. The alarm spells would pose a greater nuisance.

A plan quickly began to form in his mind. Regis carefully climbed back down the tree, landing lightly on the soft grasses. He turned and moved away from the prison towards the stream he’d used to fill his waterskin earlier.

Now alone, Regis took the opportunity to pull out Cyrus’s guard uniform and change into it. He hadn’t bothered to clean it since he’d attacked the barracks, leaving it in the exact same state as it had been in that night. In this case, the dried blood stains and rips and tears would add to the intended effect. He mussed his hair and added some streaks of dirt to his face as well, and after checking his appearance in the water, he was satisfied he looked the part.

Next, the demon removed his bag and pulled out the potions and spell components he’d taken from Markus’s home. He selected a few to store in his belt and left one bottle outside, but the majority he kept hidden away in his traveling bag. He wouldn’t be able to take more with him without garnering suspicion.

Regis rose to his feet. He dropped his bag behind a thick tree trunk, where the surrounding grasses would obscure it from view, and uncorked the one bottle he’d kept on hand. Carefully, he tipped the clear liquid over his hand and began to rub it over his skin. The liquid sizzled slightly on contact, but otherwise left no mark.

Phoenix tears—one of the most powerful neutralizers in Elaren. This was the one bottle Markus had owned in his collection, which wasn’t a surprise given its rarity. Regis was careful to only use as much as necessary to cover himself, but it still took half the amount. It was a shame, but this would be necessary if he was to enter the prison undetected.

Regis re-corked the bottle and returned it to his bag. Once he was certain his belongings were secure, he turned towards the prison again. Scanning his memory of the magic circle, he adjusted his position until he had a straight path to the desired rune string and moved as close as he could without being seen. It was time.

The demon adjusted his expression into one of wide eyed panic, then stumbled out of the bushes and towards the prison at a staggering pace. The two guards at the front gate stiffened the moment he entered their vision.

“Halt!” the one on the right said. Through the opening in her helmet, Regis could see her eyes scanning his bloodied appearance and the distinct guard uniform. A bit of unease entered her gaze, but she did an impressive job at keeping it out of her voice.

Regis pretended not to hear, continuing to limp forward until he was near the circle of runes. He swayed more with each step, and he saw the guards’ eyes widen before he finally allowed himself to collapse onto the ground with a thud.

“Hello? Hey!” The first guard’s voice rang in his ears, but he was careful to keep still. One hand was crushed underneath him, out of sight. He used it to feel around the earth, searching for the deeper dips where the runes were dug. Once he found the one he was looking for, he carefully began adjusting the rune, changing the direction of the stroke while the two guards muttered above him.

“Is he…alive?” the second guard asked. His voice sounded a bit further away. Regis felt the first guard’s fingers move to his neck.

“Pulse is steady,” she confirmed. The hand drifted over to his bloody uniform sleeve, studying the pattern embroidered on the trim. “This is Magburg’s uniform,” she said.

The other guard cursed. “You think he was in that attack? How’d he end up here of all places?”

“I don’t know; the reports said there weren’t any survivors.”

Now, Regis decided, would be a good time. He finished correcting the last line on the rune and released a soft groan. He heard the guards move closer as he began to shift in deliberately sluggish movements.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

Hands grabbed him, steadying, and he allowed them to help him sit up. Regis blinked and rubbed his head as if in pain.

“Are you okay?” the second guard asked. With his hand partially obscuring his face, Regis allowed himself to study the two humans more closely. The tension hadn’t left their shoulders, nor had the wariness in their gazes, but there also appeared to be genuine concern. Neither one gave the ground a second glance, not noticing the adjusted curve on the rune.

“I…I think so?” The demon furrowed his brow and glanced around. “Where am I?”

The two guards exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Regis’s eyes narrowed slightly. He’d been curious if they would willingly reveal who was housed in this prison to a fellow guard. It seemed not.

“You’re east of Barcombe,” the first guard finally said. “Do you know how you got here? You’re from Magburg, correct?”

Regis nodded slowly. “Yes, I…I was on night shift.” He furrowed his brow, as if thinking. “Everything was quiet, then there was this smoke.” He shuddered. “I don’t know what happened after that. When I woke up I was in the forest.”

The second guard looked confused, but the first one’s gaze sharpened.

“Smoke?” Her voice sounded urgent. “Black smoke? Did you see anything else?”

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The demon pretended to hesitate. “It was mostly just the smoke, but I think…I think I saw a flash of violet? It was right before I got knocked out though.”

The guard sucked in a breath, and Regis knew she’d understood his implication. In a prison like this, they would surely have additional tests before allowing an outsider inside, but matters of urgency tended to override precaution. There was no more urgent matter than suggesting that the demon king had returned.

The two guards whispered rapidly with each other as they debated what to do. Regis waited patiently. He didn’t want his survival to become a known fact where he could avoid it, but it made for an ideal distraction in this case. His eyes shifted briefly over to the runes etched into the dirt. It didn’t matter regardless. No one in this prison would be able to step foot outside of the circle now that he’d reversed the direction of the spell.

The guards seemed to finally come to an agreement. One of them called out to another group guarding the left wall, gesturing for one of them to watch the main gate with a quick explanation of events. They then turned back to Regis.

“Come with us,” the second guard said. “We’ll take you to see the captain.”

Regis nodded and pretended to struggle to stand. The guards helped him up, and he hunched in on himself as he grabbed onto them for support, making himself look as vulnerable as possible.

The first guard stepped up to the metal gate and unlocked it with a large key. The door swung open with a creak, and the group stepped over to the prison doors themselves. Up close, Regis could see the sigils more clearly, and they were indeed alarm spells. He felt the gaze of the first guard lingering on him as they swung open the prison entrance and stepped inside, but he’d been prepared for this.

As they crossed the threshold, he felt a faint wave of warmth pass by him. His skin tingled as the phoenix tears reacted with the spell, but he gave no indication that he’d noticed anything. An ordinary human guard would have no reason to recognize those runes. The tears had neutralized any demonic essence around him that the alarms might’ve detected.

As they stepped into the prison proper, the guard’s shoulders relaxed as Regis’s humanity was seemingly confirmed. The demon, on the other hand, directed his attention to the prison, taking in his surroundings as subtly as possible.

The interior of the building looked much like the outside, the stone walls forming a dull grey backdrop. One large hallway extended deeper into the prison with two smaller corridors branching off to the sides. Two torchlights cut through the shadows, illuminating a heavy metal door and two guards standing with their spears crossed at the end. A faint chill emanated from the area, permeating the rest of the building. Regis’s eyes narrowed. That had to be the cell.

The guards ushered him down the left hallway, where narrow windows allowed in faint rays of light. They turned into the first room on the right and opened the door to reveal a small, plain sitting room with two couches, a table, and an old desk that looked like it hadn’t been used for a long time.

The guards guided Regis over towards the couch. “Sit here,” the first one instructed. She turned to the other human. “Could you go get the captain?”

He nodded and turned to leave. Before he had a chance to step back into the hallway, however, Regis grabbed his arm and forcibly spun him around. He unsheathed his sword and slit the human’s throat before he had a chance to understand what was happening.

The second guard’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened, perhaps to scream, perhaps to alert more guards, but the sound never escaped. Using the momentum of his first swing, Regis twisted around and sliced through her neck as well.

[You have gained experience!]

Once he’d confirmed that the two bodies were dead, he wiped the sword off on the couch. He was beginning to grow more used to the weapon’s weight distribution, though he’d need to train more to reach a satisfactory level.

The demon peered out into the hallway. It was empty, so he stepped out and shut the door of the room behind him. There, it would ideally take some time before the bodies were discovered.

Regis strode forward, retracing his steps until he’d returned to the main hall. A quick glance around the corner revealed the same two guards standing by the cell doors. He hummed to himself. Though there were no guards in the vicinity that he could see, in a wide open space like this, sound would echo far and there was no guarantee of when a guard patrol might pass by. He would need to move quickly.

His eyes landed on the two flickering torches on the wall near the guards. He activated [Thaumaturgy], coaxing the flames to rise higher. It took two more uses of the ability before one of the guards noticed the fires rising. His brows furrowed.

“What—”

Regis activated [Silence] and focused on the area around the two guards and the door. In the center of the hall, the air seemed to ripple. The rest of the man’s sentence was cut off, his mouth moving without sound.

The demon surged forward, using the guards’ temporary confusion to cut the first one down. He felt movement behind him and spun around, raising his sword in time to parry an attack from the second guard’s spear. Regis brought his leg around in a kick aimed at the man’s stomach. He stumbled backwards, and the demon lunged, stabbing the sword into his chest.

[You have gained experience!]

It was much easier to fight without the need for stealth, Regis mused. After ensuring that no one was nearby, he dragged the bodies further back into the hallway so that they were partially obscured by the shadows. Once he was done, he searched the guards for keys, quickly finding a key ring and taking it. Regis paused long enough to listen for approaching footsteps. There were none. He directed his attention back to the door.

It was massive, solid and thick with five separate locks keeping it shut. Regis placed a palm against the surface of the metal. It was quite heavy, and the metal was cold to the touch. The chill was undoubtedly originating from inside. It was the sort of cold that settled deep into the bones, the kind that was reminiscent of the Flesh Fields, of Abaddon. He lowered his hand. He didn’t yet know how this human vessel would respond to different temperatures.

He leaned closer. Regis couldn’t hear any sounds on the other side, but the doors were thick enough that they would likely block out any. His eyes shifted briefly over to the dead guards, then back. Assuming this was indeed Hal’s cell, he suspected there would be far more guards inside. A lower number of guards around the exterior of the prison made sense, if secrecy was a concern, but there would be no such worry within the cell itself.

Regis carefully undid the locks and dropped the keyring back in his pouch. After some consideration, he removed a torch from the wall as well holding it in one hand and his blade in the other. A hard shove with his shoulder was enough to get the doors open.

The metal doors opened into a deceptively large chamber. Thick layers of ice and frost coated the walls, which were constructed of woven metal and fae wood. From the ceiling, long icicles pointed down, their tips gleaming in the light and their surfaces so clear that they could be seen straight through.

A metal walkway lined the walls, the railing itself covered in ice. About twenty or so guards stood evenly spaced along the walkway while four staircases led down into the center of the chamber. There, tall glaciers jutted out from the ground in a spiraling pattern, resembling a blooming flower. It was difficult to make anything out beyond the ice—only a vague shadowy mass was visible through the glaciers.

Regis kicked the door shut behind him. It closed with a creak, the walls shaking slightly. The guard closest to him turned to him, frowning as he took in his guard uniform. These guards, Regis noted, were wearing substantially thicker clothing. This cold was likely the result of a spell and kept inside the chamber with runes etched into the walls. Ordinary humans couldn’t withstand this temperature for long without additional layers.

“Uh, is something wrong?” the guard asked warily. One of his hands drifted closer to the sword sheathed at his side.

In response, Regis lunged and slashed at the man’s throat. It took two swings, the first one’s aim slightly off and hitting the top of the man’s armor. He released a gargled sound and fell forward. The demon frowned. It seemed this cold was affecting his body’s precision. He would need to take that into account.

Yells of alarm sounded around the chamber, the guards all made aware of the intruder. Regis heard footsteps pounding behind him and spun around, throwing the torch onto the approaching guard. The man screamed and stumbled back, knocking into another guard and temporarily blocking off the walkway behind him.

Regis focused his attention back to the front. He twisted around an incoming spear and cut down the attacker, then kicked the body at the next approaching guard. She stumbled back as the corpse hit her, and he used the opening to strike her down next.

An arcing sword swung at the demon, and he brought his own blade up to block it. In the corner of his eye, he could see a second guard approaching from his right. Regis shoved the first one down and ducked below the second attack. His sword carved into the humans’ legs, dripping red onto the walkway. They yelled in pain and stumbled. Rising back up, he shoved them over the railing. He heard the sound of bones crunching as they landed on the hard ice below.

More guards ran at him. The one he’d set on fire had collapsed to the side, and now guards surged forward from behind as well. Regis’s eyes scanned the area, locating the nearest staircase. He carved into the closest guard, then turned and ran in its direction. As he moved, one of his hands reached into his pouch, pulling out one of the potions he’d taken with him.

The moment he reached the staircase, Regis twisted around and threw the potion at the group of guards following him. It shattered, splattering them with a thick green liquid that left trails of steam. Piercing shrieks echoed around the chamber, punctuated by sharp sizzles as the corrosive liquid rapidly ate through their armor, melting flesh down to the bone.

Regis leapt down onto the floor of the chamber. More guards had gathered here, perhaps anticipating his destination. The demon side-stepped an incoming strike and cut the guard’s neck. He felt a sting in his arm and spun around to see another guard behind him. He frowned. When the guard thrust his spear again, he dodged to the side and grabbed onto the shaft, yanking it out of the man’s hands before stabbing him in the chest.

The air heated. Regis leapt to the side as a spell blasted past him, shattering a nearby glacier into jagged pieces. His eyes landed on the one responsible, a guard on the other side of the floor. He sprinted at her without hesitation. The guard’s eyes widened in panic as he approached, her mouth opening as she attempted to chant another spell, but he cut her down before she had the chance.

Not stopping, Regis turned and swung his sword out in a wide arc, slicing into two guards attempting to ambush him from behind. His eyes darted about the chamber. There were only two more left.

He lunged at the closest one, but the human managed to raise her axe up in time to block his attack. The second guard was running at him, but his hands were preoccupied.

Coming to a decision, Regis brushed his hand against the first guard’s and activated [Amplify Vice], selecting sloth as he brought his sword around to carve into the second guard’s torso. The first guard stumbled backwards, but attempted to swing at the demon again. This time, Regis was able to easily deflect the blow and slice her neck.

The human collapsed onto the icy floor in a limp heap. Regis waited a moment for anymore signs of movement. There were none.

He exhaled, a cloud of white condensation escaping his mouth as he did so. His breaths were quite heavy, he noted, and the wound on his arm was steadily dripping blood, deeper than he’d expected. Perhaps he’d pushed a bit too far.

[You have gained experience!]

[You have leveled up! 12 —> 14]

[You have gained the [Demon Skin] trait]

[Strength +4, Agility +7, Constitution +5, Mana +7, Will +7]

Immediately after the notifications appeared, the pervasive cold seemed to settle slightly. It was still present, but no longer quite so stinging. Regis hummed to himself. Two levels gained seemed rather low given the number of guards he’d killed. He guessed that the System took into account his opponents’ relative strength. That, and he suspected leveling might require more experience the higher level he was.

The demon shook his head and returned his attention to his surroundings. He would have more time to study the system later.

His eyes swept past the fallen bodies of the guards, finally landing on the large ice structure in the center of the chamber, untouched by the battle that had just ensued. There were no sounds or signs of movement emanating from it. He frowned and stepped closer until he could see past the sharp glaciers.

Chained between the ice, a tall humanoid man was hunched over on his knees. Messy white hair covered his face, the color mirrored by the large white wings fanning out from his back. The feathers were mangled, old bloodstains running along them in streaks and splatters. More chains wrapped around them, one running directly through a bleeding wound. They were bent crookedly, misshapen by the bounds.

Regis’s pace slowed as he approached. It was undoubtedly Hal’s diminished form, but the angel hadn’t moved at all since he’d entered the cell or, indeed, given any indication that he’d heard the fight happening around him. It was odd; the figure before him looked beaten down, defeated. Nothing like the man who had once been his most trusted general.

Regis pulled out the key ring and carefully navigated around the ice glaciers. It seemed his new [Demon Skin] trait provided some degree of temperature resistance, but he’d prefer to avoid direct contact with the ice when possible.

After rummaging around the key ring, Regis finally found one that matched the locks on the chains. He stepped over to begin undoing them, but still the angel made no movements.

The first set of chains came undone, the heavy metal landing on the ground with a clatter that echoed throughout the chamber. A few seconds passed.

Finally, Hal raised his head. Pale blue eyes stared up at him, nearly silver in color, taking him in blankly. Regis waited.

Slowly, a wide grin stretched across the angel’s features, the same expression Regis had known for centuries.

“Reg? That you?” Hal’s voice sounded dry and hoarse, as though he hadn’t spoken in a long time, but the inflections were the same. Any lingering doubts he might’ve had regarding the angel’s identity were immediately assuaged, and the demon felt an answering smile form on his own face.

“It is,” he confirmed. “It’s good to see you, Hal.”