I regret to say I am losing hope that his behavior is part of some carefully calculated master plan.
When I analyze the situation critically, he has not broken character even once. More importantly, I cannot conceive of even a single motive for playing the part of such an embarrassing character. No matter what sort of deception is necessary, there should never be a reason to go this far. I suppose I should be grateful that his apparent stupidity gives me an opportunity to escape, but my Pride is so damaged by this absurd power dynamic that I am practically losing my will to live.
Indeed, not even a few minutes ago, he allowed one of those disgusting creatures to touch him in a manner that made even me cringe despite overflowing hatred of the victim. Yet he made absolutely no attempt to murder it or even burn its house down. I can’t possibly imagine any reason good enough to endure such a thing just to maintain a disguise.
I would have long since put this entire slum to the torch for their rude language alone, if not for the possibility that my wormlike captor might finally meet his well-deserved demise in this hell hole. This monument to filth and depravity, where the number one attraction is apparently a brothel.
Honestly, the moment they mentioned it, I nearly vomited. Exactly as one would expect of a subset of demons that favors the Mana of disgust and revulsion. You are what you eat, indeed. They could not have worse compatibility with demons of Pride such as I.
To make me imagine acid imps enjoying the services of a brothel; a reasonable person could not see it as anything less than a case of grand lèse majesté, of insulting the disposition of a superior being. At the first opportunity, I am now honor-bound to thoroughly guide them into utter extinction.
Even demons must sometimes act for the good of the larger community in selfless acts of altruism. Even I will do so if the situation demands it. My generosity is limitless, after all. I look forward with great enthusiasm to fulfilling my civic duty. Patience is becoming very difficult, however.
Fortunately, my patience has finally paid off. Just now, he was dragged to their ‘arena’ to settle some farce of a duel. I must be careful to stay as far away as the ‘don’t leave’ Binding will allow, in case he decides to utter the phrase ‘save me’, or worse, ‘help me’, which is broad enough to force me to personally guarantee his well-being in the future even without any further commands. No doubt that would drastically reduce his chances of accidental death. That cannot be allowed to happen. In the worst case, I may eventually resort to casting a spell of idiocy on myself strong enough to temporarily destroy my capacity to understand language, and rely on the hope that I remember enough to remove the spell when the danger ends. The scenario is almost too grim to contemplate.
Fortunately the disgusting imps are so loud that even my superior hearing wouldn’t be able to pick out a command, so I should be safe at this distance. The vile fools quickly filled up the seating and began yelling various slurs I’ve never even heard before, interspersed with blowing fountains of acidic snot.
My captor’s opponent certainly doesn’t give the impression of a hardened combatant. He looks small even by imp standards. On the other hand, his race is especially known for their reliance on dirty tactics and absolutely never engages in a fair fight. At the first sign of trouble, he will undoubtedly pull something dirty. It’s not a matter of if, but when. And at that point, I will be free.
The very instant the worm falls, I will swiftly capture his soul and proceed to methodically turn this town into a performance art exhibition. Few killing sprees in my memory will be more satisfying than this one.
Actually, I may have learned something new from this ordeal. Anticipation of future slaughter may significantly improve the final experience. Perhaps I could benefit from more patience in the future.
Finally, the duel starts. Determined to keep up his bumbling character to the very end, my captor looks barely engaged in the present as he dodges the imp’s terribly obvious attacks with little effort. His opponent should be easily overcome, even unarmed, with the difference in size, strength, and agility. Even unarmed and unarmored as he is. Yet, the fool seems determined to not fight back. An incomprehensible existence, to the very end.
Ah. There he goes. He finally made a mistake. Stabbed in knee. Delicious. I can practically taste the waves of Mana coming off him in response to the pain. And followed by that accusatory look he just gave me… I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed myself this much before.
He seems to finally find his anger with this event, however. I wonder if he’ll finally get serious now? In spite of myself, I do wonder if he’s capable of more than he appears. If he dies without learning the answer to his mysterious discovery of my True Name, I can’t help but feel unsatisfied. What if it happens again? How can I know for sure that my name is not exposed in some manner that can be easily discovered my someone else?
And I will admittedly regret losing access to his high-class Mana. That will be extremely disappointing. Returning to relying on the stale, recirculated Mana acquired from other demons is unfitting for a person of my stature. I deserve the best, after all.
Most of all, I regret not being able to take care of this personally. My endless visualizations on various methods of murdering him will just go to waste.
Oh well. You can’t always get everything you want. Some things are more important than petty greed.
Mana Tank Magus 