CHAPTER 38: CONTRACT?

“A contract?” Soren chuckled. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

The demon kept quiet. Soren wasn’t stupid. He’d already heard enough to know how much of a bad idea it was to sign a contract with any spiritual being. Demonology, as it was called, delved into this field of magecraft. Myrin had warned him about the risks—many magi who specialized in this sort of thing tended to live short lives. It only takes one bad contract to destroy yourself.

And for Soren, it was an even bigger taboo. He had still not even understood a fraction of Scripted Runic—the language magi use to weave spellforms. There was no way he could understand the intricacies of the contract if he decided to sign it. Just reminding himself of the ritual he conducted from scribe-of-worlds.com and the consequences of it that he was unaware of was already a big enough deterrent.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Maybe if he had his Soul Weapon with him, the situation would differ a bit—he could try using [Eyes of the Fairy] on the contract to understand its clauses better, but that sadly wasn’t an option. Heck, even if he did have his Soul Weapon with him, illusion magecraft exists. After his encounter with that shrouded figure, he had become much more alert about such things.

The demon spoke once more, “I understand your hesitation… I am a demon. Demons are scary. But if you sign a contract with me, the binds sealing me to this dungeon will cease… And then I will be able to help you escape as well…”

Soren didn’t know why, but a sense of dread was building up in his chest. Whatever was on the other side of his cell—he could feel it grinning beneath the veil of darkness.

“Forget it,” he said plainly. “I don’t even trust other humans, why the fuck would I trust you? You creep me out.

“Besides, I don’t need to rush to get out of here. I think the chances of me getting out are relatively high—I am friends with an elf, after all.”

“Are you sure you are friends with him?” The demon said meekly. There was a hint of mockery, but it was hard to really tell—the child’s voice made it sound like a genuine question.

Soren frowned. He looked down at the ground, counting the droplets of water dripping from the ceiling. Was he and Myrin friends? Realistically, he didn’t know. He’d only met him for a week now. Same with Tina and Tyrel. They’re all practically strangers to him. The only reason he decided to tag along with them was because he was desperate—he had no choice.

He theoretically could have tried using his abilities to map a way out of the forest instead of heading toward Yadria with them, but that would mean venturing out into the Feylith Forest wilds alone. It was impossible for him to survive such a journey. Just their venture toward Point Sylvia made them face countless battles against Spirit Beasts and Malevolent Hexes alike. Any one of those attacks could have killed him if he was by himself.

The more he thought about it, the more doubtful he was. Yes—he had seen how they treated others. They had no reason to spare their rations, for example, to feed the poor Unblessed refugees trying to escape the forest. They also didn’t have a reason to split up with Tyrel so that he could lead them out of the forest. In fact, it was much more detrimental to their mission—Tina said so herself. If they had Tyrel around, their ability to gather more intelligence before the Nightshade Raid would have made them much more prepared for what had to come.

And yet, even with all that he had seen of them, a small kindling of doubt continued to fester within his heart.

“Why has your friend not shown up yet? I have already seen the moment they brought you here—it has been two days since then.”

Soren’s eyes widened. “Two days?!”

Silence permeated the air. I only have a week or so left to live… How can they leave me here for two days…

His thoughts swirled. Soren’s deal with Star Fate Guild was that in exchange for bringing them to Yadria using his abilities, they would in turn bring him with them back to Celestine city to meet with their mistress who may have a cure to his Soul Chain instability.

But now that he thought about it more, why would they honor that side of the deal? He had already served his purpose—all they required of him was bringing them to Yadria, and he had finished that. Why would they risk offending Yadria’s officials to free him?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Do you desire power?” The voice echoed out into the expansive underground hall. Soren’s heart began to beat faster.

“Power?” He replied doubtfully.

“Is that not what you are after? To become a magus.

“I can help with that goal.”

Soren stayed quiet. The child-like demon continued.

“Think about it, Mister. If you had power, they would have never been able to place you here.”

Soren chuckled. “And you say that as if you yourself aren’t stuck here too. Doesn’t that make you weak as well?”

He could almost feel the air shift in a sinister and uncomfortable pattern. Despite the chill seeping into his bones from the breeze coiling its way through the halls of the dungeon, Soren’s goosebumps were hinting at a much more ominous feeling.

“That is wrong mister,” the demon spoke. “I was chained here because I was powerful. They couldn’t kill me. The…” His voice trailed off.

“... I don’t remember their name…

“I don’t remember my name…

“Who am I?..”

Soren stayed silent—trying to comprehend what he was hearing. Should I do it? His inner voice was fighting against itself. On one hand, it was truly foolish to try and take the power of something that might not have his best interests in mind. On the other hand… He only had a week to live.

Should he continue waiting and trust in Tina and Myrin?

Or should he embark on his own path?

He didn’t know. The indecision was killing him. He dug his teeth into his arm as he continued to think about what to do.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. Why did he need to choose at all—he could simply call for a guard himself.

“Anyone,” he screamed. “Anyone there?! Where are the prison wardens! I want to speak to someone!”

His voice echoed out into the hall.

No response.

He tried calling again, but he was only met with more silence laced with the beating of his own heart.

“They won’t come,” the demon said. “They never come… This area is sealed with magecraft…”

Magecraft… His heart sank. Will I get stuck here till I die? Maybe it was the cold, but he couldn’t help but quiver as he huddled his arms around his shackled legs.

He needed to think of this logically. Since it’s been two days since anyone had come for him, it was definitely a fair assumption to think they won’t come for a few more days either. Going with the demon’s suggestion was risky, but at least if it went wrong, he’d have died knowing he tried his best to get out. After all, when you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, you have to pick a direction, and hope it leads to daylight.

“So,” the demon said slowly, “have you decided? Do you want to become my contractee?”

Soren’s lips curled up into a smile. He leaned back against the cold metallic wall and answered his question with one word.

“No.”

He could almost feel the demon's shock for words. “But… Why?”

“Two things,” Soren said.

“One, you mentioned that it has been two days since i’d have arrived here, but that is clearly a lie. If it really had been two days, I would have felt actual hunger. Aside from my headache, I don’t feel too fatigued.

“Second, if a contract with you really did allow us to escape, do you think the Yadrians would be dumb enough to make us share adjacent cells? That seems highly incompetent.

“These two reasons already disqualify you from my trust—It took me a bit of effort to even piece together all these clues—My head still hurts. But aside from that, there’s something even more fundamentally important to me than just the mere matter of trusting you or not.”

“What… Is that?” The demon asked.

“Freedom.”

The demon stayed silent as Soren explained. “I would much rather die forgotten, than give up my freedom to live as a slave.”

“But you are already enslaved,” the demon countered. “Being kept here restricts your freedom, does it not?”

Soren chuckled. “Sure, but being a slave in the physical world is still better than being a slave metaphysically as well. The demonology contract you want me to sign with you will certainly lend me power, but not even death will allow me to escape its consequences. My soul itself will be eternally shackled to you.”

The demon stayed silent. Soren simply slumped onto the floor while placing his arms below his head. He whistles loudly while speaking back to the now silent demon.

“Besides, even if I did want to sign a contract with a demon, it certainly wouldn’t be you. I would want a demon stronger than a Saintess or something to sway me.

“I’ll just stay here and wait for my death. How should I spend the next 7 days?” He almost couldn’t believe how much he had accepted his own fate.

It was kinda fun… He thought. Even if he was going to die soon, he did not regret his decisions at all. The time he had spent in Yarian had made him feel more alive than the past few years combined. “Haha, so my life ends in a cell just like that bastard Goerge. How ironic.”

“What a weirdo,” the child-like demonic voice chuckled. “Your time here has come to an end anyway. Between you and that girl, you were certainly more entertaining.

“Though if you ever change your mind…”

Before Soren could question what he meant, a blinding light eclipsed his vision. He squinted as much as he could, and yet the luminosity of it continued to blast past his eyelids. The haze ended seconds later—Soren found himself disoriented. He couldn’t tell up from down and his stomach churned as if ready to empty itself—he somehow managed to hold it in. After about a minute, his vision began to stabilize, along with his other senses.

“Welcome to Floramere Keep, Soren,” a soothing voice reached out to him. “You have passed the Saintess’ test.”