Xalvoloth experienced waves of pleasure as he watched the twenty Ritualists, with the assistance of Demon Lord Sag’thoz, activate the summoning ritual. Xalvoloth’s own blood was used to trace the link, seeking the mortal in the Material Realm. The wait was interminable but finally, after hours of waiting, the Flames of Greed activated. The target had been found and the connection established.

Everything was going perfectly and soon the mortal would be within its grasp. It couldn’t wait! It watched with barely contained excitement, right up until the first Ritualist burst into flames. Something on the other side was fighting against them! A moment later a second Ritualist became a living torch, followed quickly by a third, as screams of anguish and pain filled Lord Sag’thoz’s throne room. Piles of ash were all that remained of the three Ritualists, and Xalvoloth glanced at its System Contract in concern.

System Contract:

Demon Lord Sag’thoz agrees to summon a single mortal of Xalvoloth’s choosing using the Flames of Greed. In return, Xalvoloth agrees to serve Demon Lord Sag’thoz, without condition or reservation, for a period equal to the costs incurred by Demon Lord Sag’thoz for summoning and any subsequent interactions required with the mortal designated by Xalvoloth. Costs to be determined by The System. This contract is only voided once the full period of service has been completed.

Current Period of Service: 18yrs

Six years per Ritualist destroyed. That was already a bigger cost than it had expected to incur. Eighteen years was doable, but how did the mortal have anyone who could resist a Flames of Greed summoning! Even as its thoughts raced, another two Ritualists caught aflame. The System Contract ticked up to thirty years as Xalvoloth screamed internally. No more! Thirty years it could maybe survive. Maybe.

Thankfully, its wishes were granted a moment later as the summoning completed and in a burst of light, the flames receded. In the centre of the summoning circle stood the mortal that had dared to defy it. Dared defeat it. Wearing that same star-decorated robe as it looked around in confusion. Finally! It’s revenge was nigh! Thirty years. It couldn’t handle thirty years. It must. It’s wide mouth opened revealing sharp teeth as it smiled in pleasure. There was only one obstacle remaining. The fool would fall into the trap and then Xalvoloth would devour it.

*************

Nate stood, staring around in shock. Before he could take in his surroundings he felt the mana in his mana reserve try and escape his body. Clamping down on it, his mind found the cause instantly. The air was devoid of mana. Not a wisp. That didn’t stop him from activating his Awareness of the Runic Artist. It quickly spread out around him and his heartbeat sped up in fear. He was surrounded. Surrounded by creatures that could only be described as demons. The notification agreed with his assessment.

You have set foot in one of the Nine Hells.

Your achievement has been recorded.

Walk your Path. Reach your Goal. Become One with Mana.

Their levels ranged from the low sixties up to over a hundred. None broke the third evolution at a hundred and twenty, but there were two whose core his skill couldn’t pierce. The demons came in many shapes and sizes, but among them, the two whose classes he couldn’t view burned in his senses beyond any others, as he turned to stare at the first one. It was a mammoth of a creature and stood at least three metres tall, with four horns jutting up from its head. Its skin tone was a sickly yellow, its eyes pools of pure darkness and its feet, cloven hooves.

Beside it stood a demon half its size whose skin was all black to the point where it was hard to follow the contours of its body, as though it drank in the very light that surrounded it. Its shape was reminiscent of a raptor without a tail. There were others and he quickly counted twenty-four other demons, most standing around him in a circle. Their sizes ranged between the gigantic demon and the demon of darkness, their colours in reds, purples, oranges and yellows. Number of limbs was inconsistent as some walked on two legs, four or even eight. The variations couldn’t draw his eyes away from the gigantic demon though, as he felt an unnatural pressure just staring at the huge demon.

“I see,” said the mammoth demon in a deep voice, the guttural tongue translated by the Divine Translation Spell. “You’re more than my True Disciple led me to believe. I am Demon Lord Sag’thoz.”

Nate was surprised at the polite introduction. Having expected the demons to pounce on him. His mana was already touching at the edge of his Legendary bracer as he was preparing to activate True Teleportation. He might be fucked, but he wasn’t going down without a fight.

“You have drawn my attention. It’s no small feat to defeat a True Disciple. I have invited you here to offer you an opportunity,” continued Lord Sag’thoz, the demon still sounding oddly calm, even as Nate sensed the waves of pressure coming off the Demon Lord. “An opportunity to face demons from my lands, and be rewarded for your victories. What say you to this generous offer?”

Nate’s kneejerk reaction was to say no. No and send him the fuck back where he came from. As he opened his mouth to say just that, though perhaps phrased a little more diplomatically, another voice intruded on the conversation.

“You have to accept.”

Nate spun and his eyes went wide as he spotted the source of the voice, letting out a whisper that ended up echoing throughout the large throne room, “Arikanvil.”

Through his sphere he sensed the Demon Lord tense up. The other demons reacted with barely concealed hostility, merely waiting for the word to pounce, but if he was reading the body language correctly, the Demon Lord’s reaction was one of caution and fear.

That could wait though, as there was one question burning in him.

“Why do I have to accept?” he asked.

“Because, it is the only thing keeping these demons from devouring you,” replied Arikanvil in a casual tone as the gigantic purple god strode towards the edge of the summoning circle.

Nate stared back confused, even as the rest of the room remained silent, apparently unwilling to speak before the Demon Lord gave permission. Arikanvil looked on, a hint of annoyance on his features, if the crinkling of his bald head was anything to go by.

“You have been summoned unwillingly by a Lesser Divinity. The Law of Reciprocity demands the scales be balanced. That is why he offers you an ‘opportunity’. Because to bring you here simply to execute you is not reciprocal. It is a violation of the Law. The System’s punishment would be so harsh that even the Lesser Divinity’s own servants and disciples would be able to kill it. The rewards for accomplishing such would be….extensive. So it balances the scales with this ‘opportunity’. But if you say no…well, it has done its part. It has made the offer of balance. Your rejection would close the exchange, leaving you here, stranded and fodder for its disciples.”

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Nate looked between the Demon Lord and Arikanvil, only now seeing the trap. If he’d said no, the demons would’ve been free to attack him. So long as he didn’t answer or he agreed to the ‘opportunity’, he remained under the Demon Lord’s protection, because it couldn’t afford to allow harm to come to him after kidnapping him from the mortal realm.

“Couldn’t you return me to the mortal realm?” he asked Arikanvil, his tone more pleading than he liked.

“I could.”

Hope bloomed in Nate’s heart, squashed a second later as Arikanvil continued, “But I won’t.”

“Why not?” he asked in confusion. The Wanderer had helped him before. Why not this time? Especially since he had to have followed him here. Why come, if not to save him?

“You have nothing I desire in trade,” explained Arikanvil emotionlessly. “You will already owe me a small favour for the information I have just provided you. And for this,” Arikanvil paused, glancing at Sag’thoz. “If he conquers the opportunity, you will return him to where you summoned him from.”

Sag’thoz nodded without any hesitation, “It is as The Wanderer says. On my word.”

Nate thought back over their first encounter, his mind picking apart the encounter at incredible speed. The way Arikanvil had shielded him from the mana. Had given him various things and removed him from the space station. All for his phone. Had it been that valuable to the God? Was that the reason the God had shielded him from the mana? Because it couldn’t shield just the phone or The System would view it as a form of theft? Why had the phone been so valuable to The Wanderer? He arrived at the final conclusion that The Wanderer would not help him. Not here and now. As the God had said, he had nothing Arikanvil desired this time. He was on his own.

Turning back to Demon Lord Sag’thoz he asked, “What are the details of this opportunity? What do I get out of it?”

The words came out with more confidence than he felt, fear still firmly rooted in his heart. If it was to be an opportunity, then there had to be some benefit to Nate, should he succeed. Something to outweigh the violation of summoning a mortal against their will. Something to meet The System’s requirements of reciprocity. It seemed The Law bound Gods. A safety check against what could easily become outright tyranny.

“You will face three challenges, provided by my servants and disciples. For each challenge you survive, you will be entitled to one item from my vault,” answered Sag’thoz, with a secondary glance at Arikanvil, “That is, if The Wanderer does not object.”

Nate looked at Arikanvil hopefully, but the purple God simply shook his head, “No objections.”

“Very well, mortal, do you accept my generous offer of this opportunity?” Sag’thoz drawled. The demon of darkness beside him was vibrating in Nate’s sphere of awareness with unconcealed agitation.

“Do we have a choice?” he sent to Frick.

“...we don’t, Boss. I don’t know of a way out of this. The Wanderer’s a bit of a cunt though!” Frick replied, the final words said with a vehemence he’d never heard from his Familiar before.

The words made him snort. He supposed, if he was to die, at least he’d do so fighting on his feet and spitting in his opponents eyes. And in absolute defiance of these cunting Gods.

“I accept,” was all he said.

*************

Kiri slammed her hands on the table.

“We have to do something!” she yelled at the Prefects.

All three Prefects and the other Platinums, along with Deverell, sat in the meeting room at the top of the Guildhouse in the Capitol of Etrua.

“Do what, child? That was demonic energy. Whatever summoned him was beyond Luc,” replied Allais, the icey woman glancing at Luc even as he nursed arms wrapped in golden light. Lord Evindal continued to slowly heal the damage done by assaulting the flaming barrier. It had been hours and the slow rate of healing indicated it might be days before Luc’s arms were usable again.

“There are only one or two Spatial Mages that could compete with Luc in all of Etrua. I say compete. Not necessarily defeat. If Luc couldn’t break through the spatial lock, then no one could have. Not in this country. The boy is lost to us. A true shame. But the sooner we accept that, the better,” finished Prefect Allais.

Kiri looked away from the Prefects to stare at Aisling and Luc.

“Well?” she demanded.

Luc looked up tiredly, his face pale and drawn, “Wherever they took him, how they took him, I can’t follow it Kiri. It’s…it’s up to him now.”

Luc slumped in his chair, defeated and dejected.

Aisling just shook her head in anger. The Stormspear had no way of following Nate and even unharmed, she looked every bit as bad as Luc.

Kiri wanted to scream at them. Yell until they did something. Anything. But it was futile and she collapsed back into her chair as the Prefects discussed announcing her as the winner of the Tournament formally, as well as moving everyone else up by a single place. They had already given up on Nate. But she wasn’t willing to. Not yet. Nate had survived tribulations before. He could do so again. Maybe there was something in her rewards that she could use. She would find a way. No matter what!

*************

Xalvoloth vibrated in fear. The trap. It had failed to close around the mortal. What would cause a True Divinity to come to the Fourth Hell from the mortal realm? What did the mortal have to garner such interest?! Even Sag’thoz, a Lesser Divinity, had been forced to bow its head before such a being. Now, the mortal would face the trials. Each one risked the death of other demons, all of which would be added to its own sentence. The cost was skyrocketing. It had to interfere somehow. It would not be allowed to participate in the trials, having already passed its Embodiment, but perhaps it could influence them. If the mortal died quickly, then that would be acceptable, even if it wasn’t by its own hand. It couldn’t be allowed to complete the trials. Some of the items within the Demon Lords vault verged on priceless. If the mortal passed the trials, Xalvoloth was doomed. An eternity, turned into fuel for Sag’thoz’s growth. Something had to be done!

*************

Nate was flying on the back of a huge bat-winged demon towards a valley near the castle of Lord Sag’thoz. He watched the imposing edifice fade behind them, thankful to no longer be surrounded by hostile demons while fretting over what was to come. A trial they had called it, but he knew they intended to use it as an excuse to kill him. He’d finally realised the cause of all of this as he’d been escorted from the throne room.

Runic Knowledge - Concepts had been enough to recognise the taste of Devouring Light. The demon wreathed in darkness in its true form. Clearly it had not taken its loss well and had somehow brokered a deal to have him summoned to the demon realm. If the Law of Reciprocity applied, he hoped it was paying a steep cost for this. To him, it was beyond foolish to hold such a grudge, but then, he wasn’t a demon. Those thoughts were useless right now though.

He and Frick discussed what they would need to do, given the little information they had. He would be facing demons, that was evident. The numbers and level of the enemies were up in the air, but there was no chance it would be an easy battle. That wasn’t his major concern though. The lack of mana was. The air was devoid of it. He had some half-filled mana gems in his spatial storage, but only half of his total collection, the rest were back in his room in the inn recharging. He also had one of his mana gathering arrays with him. But that wouldn’t help if there was no mana to gather. If it wasn’t for the other energy, he would’ve called this place a Dead Realm.

But where mana was absent, demonic energy ran rampant. The red energy was present in the rocks they flew over, in the castle walls they were leaving behind and in the demon upon whose back he flew. Each one whispered of different concepts. The castle walls had felt like Jealousy, fearful that something or someone would try to take what hid within its confines. The rocks below felt of Despair, forever parched of water as he sensed the energy begging for a drop of anything, even blood would do. The demon upon whose back he rode reeked of Disgust for all the things below them on the plains. Disgust for all creatures that could not take to the skies, Nate included. Only its fear of Sag’thoz likely kept it in line. Reciprocity meant that if the creature crossed the Lesser God, the Demon Lord would be free to act against it. Or so he was assuming, as he stared at the valley in the distance.

He sighed. He didn’t have long and he needed to solve the problem of the lack of mana. Solve it, or he would die in these trials. Grinding his teeth, he hardened his gaze. He was going to defeat these trials. Defeat them, and return to Galle. To Etrua. To his new life. One way or another, these demons were going to pay.