Chapter 95 – Floor 9: Part 16

Mathew let the winds take control of his conjured flames. The bonfire that had been billowing skyward and consuming the cluster of undead that had emerged from a barrow was immediately flattened and swept northward.

He watched it approaching the grassy hill that he knew contained more of the undead with amusement. They were little more than skeletons with bits of flesh on their bones held together by some kind of dark magic.

Mathew suspected they may have been remnants from the last time ‘Demon Lords’ were on this Floor, either created by them or by the Lords and Ladies that fought against them. Whether it was deliberate or a side effect of the conflict, he couldn’t say.

“This takes me back.” Mathew whispered. The fires left a cloud of smoke that trailed into the clear blue sky. He wasn’t worried about anyone coming to investigate. The Lords and Ladies of the Lineage wouldn’t come this far south, and Reesh was a day’s travel to the north.

If he could clear out this land, he could expand his territory. It would make good farmland, and he was already planning to speak with Mayor Goodwin about encouraging people to settle here.

“What was that?” Yule asked, coughing a bit from the smoke before continuing to write in her notebook. The chronicler barely left his side; her zeal to document everything he was doing could be uncomfortable at times.

But he didn’t think about sending her away.

She was pleasant company, for the most part. Her knowledge about the land and the people here was proving to be invaluable.

“Nothing.” Mathew replied, and Yule frowned at the statement.

“Demon Lord Mathew, I need to write down everything you say and do for my chronicle. Please don’t withhold anything from me.” Yule chastised him, and Mathew turned and smiled at her.

“Very well, consider me suitably scolded. I said that it takes me back.” Mathew explained.

“Takes you back where?” Yule asked, seeking more information.

“To the First Floor. When I started in the Tower of Avarice.” Mathew clarified.

“What was it like?” Yule inquired. Mathew had mentioned the ‘Tower of Avarice’ several times and eventually said it was how the Demon Lords travelled between worlds, doing tasks for some of the gods. It had been shocking to learn that they served the gods similarly to the Cathedral of Knowledge.

The only difference was the purpose of their service.

Yule and the Cathedral of Knowledge were committed to recording all of the major events of their world in accordance with the decree of the god of Accumulated Understanding.

Mathew, however, was here because of the god of Mischievous Depravity, an evil-sounding god if Yule were to judge them by their title. Yule didn’t understand why the god wanted Mathew to ‘shake things up’ and disrupt the Lords and Ladies, but that was his objective.

She had read the chronicles and knew that the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage weren’t the paragons of light and justice they made themselves seem to the public, but Yule didn’t think they were terrible enough to warrant intervention from the Demon Lords.

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Perhaps the Chronicles that Yule had read were incomplete.

Yule shuddered and pushed the blasphemous thoughts from her mind to focus on Mathew. She had grown more comfortable around him during their time together. She was no longer terrified of him, although she knew what he was capable of if challenged or angered.

But he never treated her unkindly. He was polite and thoughtful to those under his care. He was also protective of both her and the villagers of Reesh. Although Yule had seen another side of him that Mathew only showed his enemies.

The raging inferno engulfed the plains for miles in front of them, consuming the dry grass and scrub and leaving blackened earth behind.

The few undead who managed to survive the flames through some quirk of the terrain or the protection of the others around them were put down unceremoniously by streaks of bluish-white energy that projected from Mathew’s hand.

It was a display of power that Yule had never seen before, on a level incomparable to anything in her life. She could only liken it to the stories she had read of the previous Demon Lords and the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage.

Mathew thought about the question for a moment, pondering his response as he made a calming motion with his hands. The out-of-control inferno, well past the barrow the undead had appeared from, began to subside.

In moments, only soot and ash remained of the undead that had been assaulting them. Satisfied with the results, Mathew turned back to Yule.

“When I first entered the Tower, the Floor I started on was similar to this one, only it had been destroyed by hordes of undead. We were tasked with clearing out a city.” Mathew shrugged. His foot was digging into the ground idly, sifting through the ashes.

“I burned them out then, just as I did now. I guess I’m just feeling…nostalgic. It’s been a decade and nine Floors, but I’m still doing the same things.” Mathew finished. Yule could hear the emotion in his voice, something she wouldn’t have expected from a Demon Lord before she had met Mathew.

For the first time since he had begun talking, Yule ceased writing and closed her notebook.

“Why did you enter the Tower? At the meeting, Demon Lord Mercy said that you all had a wish, a dream that you wanted to come true.” Yule inquired, and Mathew paused his movements.

“I…I didn’t have a dream. Or a wish.” Mathew admitted while running his hand through his hair and frowning.

“I did it because someone I know entered. Her mother was sick, and she was hoping the cure was inside the Tower.” Mathew looked away, and his eyes traced the hill in the distance where the undead had emerged.

“Did you find her?” Yule asked curiously. Mathew seemed so…human. So vulnerable. She doubted anyone would believe her in the Cathedral of Knowledge if she put this moment in her chronicle.

The Demon Lords were supposed to be paragons of domination and authority. But she had seen them divided and unguarded.

“Not yet. It hasn’t been easy, and just when I think I’m making progress, I reach a floor like the Seventh that makes me question if there is any point to what I’m doing.” Mathew stopped, drew in a deep breath and let it out.

“She’s probably dead and gone. I failed, and now I’m stuck in this…” Mathew formed a fist so tightly that the crack of his knuckles startled Yule. He stopped talking; his emotions caused his skin to flush red, and his breathing was ragged.

For a moment, Yule was terrified. There was a Demon Lord, a being of unimaginable power, losing his composure in front of her. But strangely, she didn’t feel like running away. Instead, she wanted to help him.

What kind of strange ability did Mathew possess that he earned such loyalty and care from her in the short weeks she had known him?

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you any of that. It’s my problem, my burden.” Mathew apologized.

“You don’t know that your friend is dead. You made it, and so did the other Demon Lords. She might still be alive. The god of Accumulated Knowledge teaches us that all things are possible, that it is up to us to always seek the truth.” Yule said.

Mathew smiled at her words, a chuckle escaped his lips.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t lose hope. Thank you, Yule. That was very kind of you.” Mathew expressed, and Yule smiled in response.

“But a piece of advice, in exchange for your kindness. Don’t take the words of the gods as fact; you should question them like everything else in your life. It’s been my experience that they can be just as imperfect as we are.” Mathew said.

Before Yule could respond, Mathew began to walk towards the hill.

“Come on. Let’s go kill whatever is raising the dead in this ‘barrow.’ And if it's already dead, we’ll just have to ensure it stays that way.”