11. A Harem of Demons (Just Kidding)

Pyro shuddered in excitement at the sight of the demon. She was breathing shallowly, but she was breathing, which was a… Good sign? It was a sign. He reached out to touch her, but Thwain quickly slapped his hand and pulled out a gun, pointing it at its face.

“Don’t even think about it,” Thwain hissed angrily. “That’s a demon, a Tower-forsaken demon. We aren’t going to have some sort of perverted demon groping session and risk dying horrible demon-inflicted deaths because you couldn’t help but get handsy.” He took out a second gun and pointed it at her face.

“Wait!” I whispered urgently. Thwain’s glare was the closest thing to a threat he had ever sent my way. I hurried to explain. “Let me. It’s a Tower monster, isn’t it?”

“That almost makes it worse,” Thwain whispered angrily. “Then you’ll both be fawning over her AND she won’t be able to say no. That’s fucked up, Théo. Mega fucked up. Like, I’m-not-sticking-around levels of fucked up. I’ll blow up the entire Slums to save the Tower, but I’m not helping you build an enslaved monster harem.”

“I don’t want it as a sex slave, moron!” I whispered back. “It’s… She’s? She’s from a higher floor, which means she’s powerful. She’s barely clinging onto life, probably because they haven’t been able to get enough essence or blood or mana or whatever into her to get her to roam freely. It’s a power spike, Thwain, not a pervy thing. Imagine how much damage a summon from five, ten, fifteen floors up could do on the first floor.”

Thwain eyed me suspiciously as he handed me two pistols, then he backed up.

“Pyro,” Thwain said, “Let’s cause some mayhem.” The two of them slunk off while I stood in front of the demon. Demoness? I wasn’t sure what the term was. It didn’t matter, really. Well, it didn’t matter to me, and if it mattered to her, she wasn’t really going to be able to complain, soon. I pointed both pistols at the demon. I reconsidered, looking around to where the wires and tubes led.

They stuck out of her from almost a hundred different places, but they all converged to one spot, at the base of the coffin-bed, in a small black box. The box had a hose sticking out of one end, leading to a pool of blood where several drains from across the basement ended. I reached over and tried to remove the hose from the pool. It was far longer than I had expected. What I thought was a puddle of blood was actually more akin to a well, carved deep beneath the church, drilled to hold an unfathomable amount of life essence. I pulled and pulled, coiling the thing messily to one side while Pyro and Thwain ran from pillar to pillar, the sound of crumbling stones echoing throughout the basement. Gunshots and the muffled, desperate screams of the dying could be heard from above, even through the stone. I finally withdrew the entire length of hose out of the blood well and set it to the side.

I wiped the blood coating my hands onto my pants as best I could, then picked up my two pistols again, pointing them at the demon. The monster. It. I aimed one gun at its face and one at its chest. I took a deep breath, then spammed both triggers until the guns vanished. Twelve shots rang out in the basement. Twelve bullets collided with the demon, only some of them punching through. A few bullets glanced off of its hard forehead, imbedding deep into the wooden frame of the bed. A couple of bullets penetrated scales, barely piercing the skin underneath. Enough, though, punched through vulnerable spots. The hose that I had thrown aside started sucking violently, but it only took in air.

As the demon died, it folded in on itself, coalescing into a wispy purple loot orb. It bobbed up and down gently on the ripped cushions. Thwain and Pyro ran over, both men gawking at the orb.

“P-p-purple?” Thwain asked.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Pyro almost shouted, pumping a fist.

“You guys take it, I need to check…”

I focused, checking my Bestiary.

It appeared, like usual, as a spectral book. Pages flipped quickly until settling on a different section than usual. Red and black ink smeared the page.

[https://i.imgur.com/TyeTp8L.png]

Bestiary entry: Demon selected.

Soul strength: 4%. Collect more essence to increase soul strength.

Warning! Bestiary capacity: 2/2. Upgrade your Bestiary to hold more souls.

I was both overjoyed and disappointed. On one hand, I now had access to a second monster. On the other hand, I had filled my Bestiary slots (a measly maximum of two), and my demon’s soul strength was pathetically low. I had to hope that either four percent of an extremely powerful monster was a lot, or that we could raise it by some means other than killing more demons, like with Slimey and feeding it meat.

I closed my Bestiary and looked over at the others. Thwain was holding what seemed to be a black orb in his hand.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s…” Thwain hesitated, “A demon’s eyeball? I think? No clue what it does, though.”

“Eat it and find out,” Pyro suggested.

“Eat it? That’s probably the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Thwain exclaimed.

“Nahhh,” Pyro countered, “You’ll prob get some demon powers.” He waggled his fingers as Thwain, as if that represented a form of demonic power.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Point it at the wall and channel mana through it, like the shield?” I suggested.

Thwain did as I suggested, pointing the eye away from us and… Nothing. After testing a few more things, his shoulders dropped in resignation.

“We’ll figure it out, don’t look so glum,” I said.

“It’s not that,” Thwain mumbled. “The idiot’s probably right,” he said, gesturing to Pyro. “It’s squishy and it’s small enough to eat. It could be an ingredient or a poison of some sort, but it’s also equally likely to be a consumable that grants some sort of a buff.”

If Pyro smiled any wider, he’d break something in his face. Probably, like, a muscle or something. Could you break a muscle? Ok, then a bone. A face bone. He’d tear a muscle and break face bones.

“Take it now or figure it out later?” I asked.

“Later,” both men said at the same time.

“Ok, what now?” I asked.

“We hide out in a small hole until the church stops crashing down, then I dig us out,” Pyro said.

“Why would the church… Crash… Down?” I asked, puzzled.

Thwain and Pyro laughed.

“What do you think we were doing while you dealt with the demon chick?” Pyro asked, his smile growing, impossibly, just a tad wider.

Pyro parted stone, carving an upwards-sloping tunnel into the side of the basement. The tunnel was almost four meters long and six and a half feet high, letting most of us easily walk standing upright. I had enough space that I could almost swing both arms freely above my head without touching the ceiling. Pyro, who was a little taller, approaching six feet in height, could still move around comfortably without any fear of smacking his head. Thwain, on the other hand, was over six feet tall, making the tunnel a smidge cramped for him. He could still walk upright, but he had a slight hunch of his shoulders, afraid of smacking his head on a dip in the ceiling.

When both Thwain and I were in the tunnel, Pyro walked across the basement to the other side. Then, he jogged back towards us, tagging each pillar as he passed them. It was only then that I noticed the large cracks already present in each pillar. As the Geomancer slapped each pillar, he sent a small amount of mana through his skill. The cracks widened to stone chasms. When Pyro reached the halfway point, the first pillars started toppling. He picked up the pace, still smacking pillars as he went. The supporting stone beams started crumbling faster, parts of the ceiling falling into the basement. Pyro sprinted towards us, skipping the last set of stone supports. As he entered the tunnel, he raised a stone door, sealing us in.

He collapsed to the ground, heaving for breath. Not a great idea while in an enclosed space, but I’d just have to put up with it. The tunnel shuddered as the sound of smashing stone boomed on the other side of the makeshift door. The church was crumbling in on itself, as promised, bit by bit. Dust rained from the ceiling of our tunnel as more of the church fell, causing shockwaves to ripple through our little hideout.

I heard Pyro stand after a while, brushing his hand against the ceiling, seemingly fortifying it against the disaster happening above. The sound of combat was drowned out by the earthquake that seemed to be rampaging above.

“Sounds like we’re gonna be here a while,” I said.

“Mmh,” Pyro grunted, sounding like he was making himself comfortable on the floor. “No better time than to try out some loot, eh, Thwain?”

I heard a sigh to my right.

“If we’re going to suffocate down here, anyway, may as well.”

I heard shuffling, squelching, then gagging. “Oh gods,” Thwain choked out, “I don’t think this…” I heard the thump of his body hitting the floor.

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Thwain

It was, without a doubt, the worst tasting thing I had ever put in my mouth. It was like acid and ashes mixed with fermented blood. As I bit into it, the orb exploded, coating my mouth with sludge and forcing its way down my throat and up and out of my nose. I gagged, trying to breathe, but there was no use. When I tried sucking in a breath, the sludge just forced its way into my lungs. It was everywhere. I felt it seep down my throat and into my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. It… It…

Demon core ingested……………………. Calculating outcome………………… Inferior host detected…….............................................................. Calculating probability of death…………………… Increasing probability of death………………………............................................................. Probabilities calibrated……………......................……………….. Probability of death: 37%. Randomizing.……………………………………………………………………….. Randomization complete. Result: Skill………….. Generating skill ……… ……. ………. ……. …………… ……………………… ……………… ……………………….………. Skill obtained: Demonic Wings.

Thwain

Class : Gunner, rank 1.

Conjure Pistol (rank tied to class rank). Active. Cost: Medium. Cooldown: Medium.

Infuse, rank 1. Active. Cost: variable. Effect: channel your energies into your conjured weapon for increased effect.

Skill gained: Demonic Wings, rank 1. Active. Cost: variable. Effect: conjure demonic wings to carry you into the skies.

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Théo

I waited awkwardly with Pyro as Thwain flopped on the ground. I reached over to steady him, but my hand came away sticky. I didn’t think it was blood, it was too thick, but that didn’t necessarily reassure me. As we waited, the ruckus from above slowed. There were still the occasional rumbles and crashes, but the main world-ending shakes had passed.

Pyro stood and started digging out a much smaller tunnel upwards. He dug about ten feet before stopping. A tiny shaft of light peeked in from above. He sat there for a while, listening. When he was pretty sure nobody was around, he widened the hole and looked out. Satisfied, he closed the hole again and scooted back down the tunnel.

“Pops out under a half-fallen pillar,” he said. “If anyone sees us, we can pretend to have been caught under it and dragged ourselves out.”

I nodded a few times before realizing that he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, that works fine,” I said lamely.

“He ok?” Pyro asked.

“I think he’ll be fine, ish,” I said. I couldn’t help but hear a note of worry in Pyro’s voice. He had suggested eating the orb, after all. When Thwain gasped in a breath, we all felt awash with relief. I gave him as much space as I could in the small tunnel.

“Water,” he croaked. Pyro fumbled with a water skin, clumsily passing it to our friend.

Soon, I heard the sound of an empty water skin hitting the ground. Thwain gulped in more air.

“That… That absolutely sucked,” he said.

“What happened?” I asked, tentatively.

“New skill,” Thwain replied. “Demon wings.”

“Demon wigs?” Pyro asked. “That a drag skill?”

“Wings, ass hole,” Thwain replied. “I can conjure demonic wings and fly around.”

“Heh, you got fairy powers,” Pyro mocked.

“Sure. Leathery, scaly, fairy powers,” Thwain conceded. “Can we leave yet?” He asked, sounding tired as shit.

“Yeah, should be able to,” Pyro said. “Exit’s up here.”

With that, we followed Pyro up the tunnel, following closely behind, careful not to stumble into each other too much.