Chapter 24: Speak of the Devils

A tall female in polished ebony armor stands atop a barren hill beneath the punishing sun.

The dark metal would likely be hot enough to give any human a heat stroke, were she actually human in the first place. Considering her stature of almost three meters, though, ‘human’ is an unlikely first impression. Especially when noticing her gray skin and goat hooves.

Even so, she has a graceful and calculated posture strongly reminiscent of a powerful and successful career businesswoman, possibly a lawyer. The spotless black briefcase she carries at her side completes the overall impression, although the black leather itself gives off the uncomfortable impression that it only recently was still alive.

She gazes down on the outskirts of a high walled city from the top of the hill. Orderly buildings are comforting to her refined sensibilities, and these are no different.

Or, at least, that is how it should be, she muses.  I was led to believe by the client that Purica is a clean, orderly city in keeping with core Magistracy values. Even my superiors thought the pitch presented to us over the magitech transmission system sounded credible. And yet, here we are. Disappointed. Her long, pointed ears twitch in annoyance as she listens to discordant sounds coming from within the walls. A deep frown extends across her face at yet another loud crash, accompanied by a thick cloud of dust.

Smoke rises high into the sky, originating from somewhere near the city center. Distant alarm bells can be heard, along with periodic explosions and yelling. The acrid stench of burning wood, blood, and sweat reaches her nose.

The cloying scent of chaos.

Order is the sole bulwark that divides civilization from crawling chaos. The desire for order and rationality is exactly why we Devils built cities to live in instead of wallowing in the mud like filthy vermin. This is exactly why we have no choice but to thoroughly exterminate the apostles of chaos, down to the very last soul. The Demons.

They are an infection that must be eradicated for Order to finally be complete. To that end, we must absorb their blighted territory through any means available, and throughly purge it of the infection of chaos. We are not above using peaceful means to gain territory, should the opportunity present itself.

But this city isn’t orderly at all. Our Carmine Magistracy cannot admit a dangerous element such as this to its ranks, no matter how strategically valuable. No, no, it cannot be allowed. This must be corrected. Immediately.

And the client is even late. She sighs and shakes her head as she glances at her magical timepiece fetched from within her briefcase. The blue crystal rings out faintly with perfect rhythm, akin to an atomic clock. The crystal floats mysteriously within its container, suspended inside a bleached humanoid skull with its horns filed off.

I should have expected such lawlessness from this side of the Null Zone. To think, I was actually optimistic that we wouldn’t have to murder everyone here. I mean, I love murder as much as the next devil, but it’s so taxing to get my hands dirty myself. Perhaps my assistant will be able to handle it himself.

“Consul Thurza,” says a measured and respectful voice from behind her, doing an admirable job suppressing his fear. “The client is here to see you.”

Finally.

“Send him to me,” Thurza says, her outward tone impeccably firm and businesslike. She carefully returns the timepiece to her briefcase before turning around.

The approaching creature presents a pathetic appearance. His wrinkled skin is covered in soot and dust, and for some reason he refuses to let go of a filthy hat that seems to have once been a fedora.

“You came! You actually came! I admit I had my doubts, but to think the Magistracy actually sent someone because of that message I sent when I was drunk!” he cries out joyously, thin trails of snot flying out of his nose. Thurza flicks her eyes meaningfully towards her well trained aide, who immediately holds out a handkerchief. The creature ignores his action, however.

“I’m Cherd Glompus, the mayor’s son. I’m sure you’ve heard of the illustrious Glompus family name. I’m the one who contacted you about applying for citizenship. Are we finally going to be part of the Magistracy?” he continues excitedly.

“That has yet to be determined,” she says, a deep chill oozing from her voice.

“Oh, right,” says the repellent creature named Cherd complacently, apparently missing her tone of warning. “To be honest, we’re having a little trouble with an outsider today. Well, outsiders, plural, more likely. I did see him carrying a female I didn’t recognize during his escape. I definitely would have remembered that ass if I’d seen it before. It sure would be nice if I could get her to lick my feet.” He finishes by making a vile gesture with his fingers and tongue.

Cherd seems lost in his own world as a flash of extreme disgust and bloodlust passes over Thurza’s eyes. She manages to control it with effort. I mustnt let personal feelings interfere with business. The ability to do so is one of the many ways we devils are superior to demons. I must not sink to their level.

Apparently the claim that the demons here have overcome their unfortunate roots in the demonic domain of Disgust were greatly exaggerated. Or maybe this one is an exception?

Well, it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it? This relationship will soon be terminated.

“And the powerful magic item you mentioned?” She asks, changing the subject. “You brought it with you?”

In truth, it’s probably just garbage, but we can’t just blindly purge the city until we have extracted everything of value.

“Oh yes, it’s here,” says Cherd, bobbing his head. “I dont have it with me, though. It’s still inside the rock at the center of town. The spell of restriction cast on it is very powerful. But Consul Thurza is very powerful, surely? It won’t be a problem for you to dispel the protection yourself.” Cherd says, with his best attempt at an ingratiating smile.

Thurza’s eyes twitch involuntarily. “I don’t do that kind of thing. I’m the one who gives orders.”

Her assistant notices the obvious shift change in atmosphere. From his position behind Cherd, he pulls out a thick length of steel wire, and motions toward Cherd’s neck.

‘Not yet’, she mouths silently, before the wire is returned reluctantly, Cherd completely unaware.

Better than my last assistant, she muses. He knows how to show initiative and still follow orders. If he keeps this up, I won’t be able to think of a worthy excuse to fill out my W-R5-Omega Employee Murder Requisition Form.

Oblivious, Cherd continues. “I mean, she must be someone famous. I can’t figure out why she’s hanging out with one of those weirdos who likes to pretend to be a human.”

“Pretend to be a human?” Thurza asks, suddenly intrigued.

“Well, what else could it be? Most might not recognize the look, but I can tell what he was going for. I’ve read books before. It’s really weird what people do in the name of fashion,” Cherd says, clutching his filthy hat. “Everyone knows fleshies can’t survive on this plane for more than a few minutes before being eaten or enslaved. He’s not fooling anyone.”

“Hmm,” responds Thurza thoughtfully. Something bothers me about this. I’ve never heard of anyone voluntarily pretending to be human. It’s practically suicidal. I may actually gain something of value from this unfortunate excursion.

“Listen, I still get my reward, right?” says Cherd hopefully. “I was promised you would make me the new mayor. And I’ll have the power to rule how I want, right? Can you believe my father banned brothels, gambling, and even wargfighting?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Thurza assures him. I suppose I could make you the slave mayor of your very own circus slave troupe. It’s possible that patrons will be fascinated by the wrinkles, though I can’t imagine it’s very likely. Alternatively, you and your troupe could be used as feed for the abyssal demon seals exhibit. Arf arf. The soothing mental image of seals devouring Cherd helps her display a convincing business smile.

Meanwhile, Cherd continues to list all the rewards he deserves.

“…And I want that ass from earlier, too,” Cherd says greedily. “Even though I think she must be a little messed up in the head. She kept saying things that sounded like chants, but nothing happened.

“And they weren’t any chants I’ve heard of before, either, and I’ve seen scrolls all the way up to tier three,” he says proudly. “I’ve seen all sorts of scrolls. I’m the mayor’s son.”

Thurza had only been half listening during his rambling speech, but suddenly she started to feel a faint feeling of alarm and excitement.

“Wait, ah, Cherd, was it? Could you describe what you heard to me?”

“Oh, uh-” Cherd, says, confused. ” I think it started with dzurga’thur fuuzaxx, or something like tha-”

“Cast detect lifeforms, use the maximum radius,” Thurza directed her assistant, cutting off Cherd. “Immediately locate all lifeforms in the area that are not acid imps. Immediately give me any information you can gather about these individuals.”

“Understood.”

Her assistant had already started casting before the order was given, however. I might actually be contractually required to pay him. How unexpectedly competant.

“What’s going on?” Says Cherd unhappily, unwilling to conclude his list of demands.

“Shut your mouth, fool. That was a ninth tier arcane chant you heard. Most likely meteor swarm, so you can only thank whichever god tolerates your existence that it didnt activate, or your whole city would be cinders before I even arrived. At least one of your ‘outsiders’ is probably an archmage-level arcane spellcaster, and it just so happens that a certain legendary fugitive was recently sighted not too far away from here. Rejoice. It seems you may be currently hosting a super-VIP in this abominable backwater.”

“Consul, I found her. She’s here. Her and a male of unknown species,” says her assistant suddenly.

A malevolent smile breaks across Thurza’s face. Her goat hooves tremble unsteadily.

“Send a request for backup. The Brothers Three, Arx the Ardent, Python Prime, even Elder Blasphemer if he’s available. We can’t worry about his nonsensical demand that his compensation be delivered together with poetry in iambic pentameter. Someone will have to deal with it. We’ll need everyone. Set up the portal immediately.”

Her assistant bows lightly before heading back to the camp for materials.

She couldn’t resist letting out a hysterical laugh.

“She’s actually here, and for some reason, she’s even having trouble spellcasting. More than ten thousand years on the run from the Law, and that finally ends now.”

“Your time is up, Princess-Princess. They might even make me partner for this.”

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