Chapter 138: Pain, Pleasure, And Death
The Maw, the first layer of Hell. It swelled without end, devouring itself as fast as it formed. A place in constant decay and rebirth, where demonic beasts crawled and multiplied without order. No demon lords ruled here. No hierarchy held. Only violence, entropy, and rot.
Power belonged only to Warlords. Titles earned by demons unlucky or damned enough to be trapped in this layer. None chose to remain. Even the souls bound here were shredded things, stripped raw by time and hunger.
No one knew how many demons infested the Maw. It stretched on forever, swallowing distance and meaning alike. For the Warlords, existence reduced to two constants: boredom and fear. With nothing to conquer and nowhere to rise, they slaughtered one another simply to feel time move.
Not for land. Not for dominance. Only to interrupt the endless crawl of eternity.
Smoke climbed into the empty sky in towering black columns. The ground below was scorched to glassy ash, still hissing with residual heat. Demonic energies crawled through the remains of hundreds of Carrion Hounds, their bodies split and collapsed into one another. Dozens of Alphas lay among them, carcasses piled like crude monuments to failed resistance.
Nothing living stirred. Only death remained active. A limb twitched. A ruptured gut popped and spilled. The stench was overwhelming, acidic bile and blood mixing into a corrosive slurry that ate through flesh and bone alike.
Then the ground shook.
A roar tore across the field, raw and furious, the sound alone cracking the earth. At its center, a massive structure of bone and black stone began to fail. Towers buckled. Spines shattered. The fortress collapsed inward under its own weight.
An explosion finished it.
Black and white debris blasted skyward as something vast and obscene writhed free from the ruin. Tubes of pink flesh layered over one another, millions of wriggling bodies knotting together. Worms of every size fused into a crude humanoid shape, its roar ripping out of a throat that would not stay still.
Enormous hands slammed into the ground as it dragged itself upright.
"Master! Save me!"
The titan hauled its bulk from the crater, waves of blackened worms sloughing off its body and bursting against the ash. Two massive, glowing eyes streamed viscous tears as they searched the sky in blind panic.
"Pathetic, old thing."
A voice sighed calmly behind it.
"Is this really how you plan to die?"
The words drove the Warlord into frenzy. It clawed forward faster, flesh tearing under its own weight.
Blight stood in the air behind it, feet resting on nothing, as though gravity itself obeyed him. His full demonic form was no longer concealed.
Skin like molten pitch stretched over his body. Horns rose high from his skull, bleeding smoke into the air. His face held no features beyond a wide mouth packed with layered teeth.
Floating beside him were the other Warlords from the Chairman's meeting. The Stagnant King. The Bound. Mistress Grogh. Each bore fresh wounds, scars still leaking power, all watching Blight from the corners of their eyes as they advanced on the worm demon together.
It rolled onto its back, bulk shuddering, both massive hands lifting in a useless guard.
"I am not forsaken! Kill me and my master will hunt you like dogs. Your souls will be devoured. Your names erased!"
Below the floating figure, Blight's grin peeled wider, teeth stacking as his tail snapped through the air with restless delight.
"Then where is he? This master you keep chanting about. Where is he now? Why isn't he here already? Why hasn't he come to pull you out of the dirt?"
The worm demon fought to steady itself, to keep its tone firm, but each step closer, each voice tightening the circle, stripped another layer of false confidence away. Panic leaked through the gaps.
Mistress Grogh snorted. A clot of blood fired from her snout, hissing as it splashed across writhing flesh. She wiped her hand against the sag of her ruined breast and curled her lip.
"Enough posturing. Finish it."
Lightning cracked along The Bound's chains, metal slithering and coiling as if alive.
"Shame we can't eat his soul. That much mass would push me forward."
A green fog spilled downward, thick and corrosive, crawling across the ground toward the cowering shape. The Stagnant King's jaw hung open as the mist poured from him, his voice echoing without movement.
"Allow me the honor. For Skaal'ar."
Blight hesitated, then inclined his head.
At the sound of the name, the worm demon lurched, desperation igniting into frantic hope.
"Skaal'ar?! Where is he?! He will vouch for me. Our legions fought together. We are war-bound!"
Laughter erupted from the ring of demons, layered and cruel. The sound hit him wrong. Too sharp. Too eager.
"It's true! Call him and he will—"
"My father is dead. War-bound or not, so are you."
He gestured once, granting permission.
Understanding finally burned through the worm demon's terror. Its eyes locked onto Blight, horror sharpening into recognition.
"You… you're his spawn? How? How are you this powerful?!"
Everything stilled. Even the creeping fog paused. Every gaze shifted to Blight, hunger and curiosity tightening the space between them.
He tilted his head, rolling the thought back and forth, then gave a careless shrug.
"Suppose it doesn't matter anymore. Even my allies look ready to tear themselves apart for the answer."
The three figures surrounding him bristled, offense clear in their posture, yet none dared contradict it. For something so newly formed, Blight already eclipsed Skaal'ar, his power brushing the lower edge of S Rank. It defied reason, and that impossibility forced silence. All attention locked onto him.
That silence shattered with his opening words.
"Skaal'ar wasn't my first father. He was the third. He carried me for six thousand years. The one before him, my mother, bore me for nearly fifty thousand before Skaal'ar tore her apart and took me. Before her, my first old man held me for over four hundred thousand. Add it up. I'm older than every one of you. Eating Skaal'ar from the inside didn't hurt either."
The admission detonated through them. Demons did not age like mortals; they endured until something stronger tore them down. Immortality meant nothing in a place built on slaughter. Few survived long enough to matter.
Five hundred thousand years of existence made the air feel thinner. During the earlier clash, Grogh, The Bound, and the Stagnant King had already tasted fear at his strength. Now it hardened, set like bone.
"So yes, it makes sense I'd be this strong. Anything less would be pathetic. Wouldn't it?"
He didn't wait for a reply. One short gesture sent the command.
"End it. I'm starving."
Barely half his age, the skeletal Warlord snapped into motion, poisonous fog pouring from his jaws in a steady cascade. From farther back, Mistress Grogh and The Bound watched Blight like cornered animals, rigid, ready to flee at the smallest shift. The worm demon's shrieks rose and broke, unanswered, unheard.
Every sense in that dead field bent toward Blight alone. Nothing else held weight. Nothing else existed.
The fog didn't take long. It ate through the worm demon until nothing remained but a slick basin of black sludge. As the last convulsions faded, the skeletal Warlord sealed his jaws and lifted one bleached hand. Light thickened inside the miasma, compressing, folding inward again and again until it hardened into a dense black crystal. With a flick of his wrist, the Stagnant King sent it drifting to Blight and dipped his skull in a shallow bow.
"If it pleases you, join me for a meal in my halls. My stores of souls are unmatched in this layer. You will not find finer fare in the Maw."
Not to be overshadowed, Mistress Grogh heaved her bulk forward, fat sloshing.
"Lies! Come to my table. I've kept a pure soul untouched just for this moment. You'll—"
The Bound laughed, chains crackling as electricity sparked.
"Shut it, bitch. Blight won't choke down your garbage. Filth is filth. My hall holds real delicacies. I've even secured slaves you might find amusing."
"Amusing?"
Grogh barked a laugh, flesh quivering.
"Pleasure is my domain. You couldn't hope to—"
The noise rose, sharp and hungry, three Warlords clawing for favor. Blight ignored them all. His attention stayed fixed on the Soul Crystal hovering before him. His jaw split wider than a man's torso and he drew it in whole, the crystal vanishing past rows of teeth.
The sound of his voice crushed the argument flat.
"Our first task is complete. Now we wait for the summoning."
He turned on them, the grin stretching too far, too wide.
"Stay concealed until then. If any of you come under attack, call for aid immediately. We can't afford another Warlord stumbling in before we break free."
Without waiting for protests or praise, his form began to thin, edges blurring as if heat warped him out of existence. The shape unraveled, drifting away like a mirage losing its anchor.
None of the remaining three tried to stop him. His departure was a mercy. Only after he was gone did they pause, senses stretched to the limit, searching for any trace left behind.
Satisfied at last, all three released the breath they'd been holding.
The Bound broke the silence.
"He'll kill us once this is finished."
The Stagnant King inclined his skull, fingers rasping along exposed ribs.
"Then we align. Until he's dead."
Grogh's body shuddered, her stitched flesh tearing and bleeding as she nodded.
"Agreed."
They lingered a heartbeat longer. Then one by one, they withdrew, each dissolving back toward their fortresses, each retreat carrying its own fear.
What had seemed like a simple escape from the Maw no longer felt simple at all.
Silence reclaimed the field. The Maw resumed its work. Flesh grew. Flesh rotted. Even the scars of battle sank and vanished.
Nothing endured here. Not ever.
----
Morning light crested over Shatterbay, thin bands of gold prying the night loose. It stung his eyes as he stared across the city. He stood on the docks naked, skin mapped with bruises and scratches, a hard, satisfied smile set on his face.
The sea wind helped. His skin still burned. When he turned to head back inside, pain bit and he hissed, lifting one leg as his hand clamped around his thigh until the edge dulled.
"Looks like she worked you over. She still here?"
Min's voice came from behind him, teasing without effort.
"She's showering. Why're you up this early?"
He turned. Min didn't bother hiding where her eyes went. She smirked while taking it in, then turned away.
"Get her out of here. We've got shit to handle today."
He watched her go, the sun warming his back. As he started inside, her voice carried again and stopped him.
"And stop walking around naked. You're gonna make the guys feel like shit hauling that around."
She didn't slow, just tossed it over her shoulder. The wind brought her scent back to him and he tilted his head, tracking her retreat.
[She'd break you.]
"Maybe."
He shook it off and went inside. The warehouse swallowed him. He crossed to his office and opened the door to a wall of sweat and sex. The room looked wrecked, nothing spared, nothing clean. He took it in like a trophy, scanned the floor, found his pants, and pulled them on as the bathroom door cracked open and steam poured out.
"That's the last time I use your shower. Filthiest bathroom in the city."
Yu-na stepped out of the haze, water still rolling off her skin. No towel worth using. Her steps left wet prints as she closed the distance and pressed into his chest.
He took her in and had to admit it. She was striking…for a human. Her breasts were firm, lifted, areolas a touch wide, pressed against his chest with deceptive softness. Her skin was smooth where it wasn't broken by scars, and those marks only sharpened the appeal.
His hand clamped hard on her ass and he slid a finger between.
"You smelled better before."
She rose onto her toes, lifting just enough to blunt the sweet bite where he held her.
"Then I'll skip the shower next time. If there is a next time."
She reached up and caught his lower lip between her teeth, drawing blood and tasting it.
Feigning offense, he hauled her closer.
"Why wouldn't there be a next time? Planning on disappearing?"
She met his gaze, breath uneven, his fingers still inside her, his heat at her cheek. Color crept into her face. Then she exhaled and pushed away, turning to gather her clothes.
"Maybe. Who knows. Just promise me something."
He pulled his hand from his nose before she turned fully.
"Name it."
She dragged her dress on and flipped her wet hair back, splashing him.
"Don't be in the city on the thirteenth. All day. Go camping or some shit."
A flash of embarrassment crossed her face and she headed for the door. He started to speak, but she cut him off as she opened it.
"Promise. Or there won't be a next time."
Something in her eyes made him drop the act, just for a moment. He didn't even realize.
"I promise."
She smiled and was gone, leaving only her scent behind.
He stood still, then coughed and shut the door.
[At least we have a hard date now. Sixteen days, Mr. Broodfather. Think that's enough?]
He pulled on his shirt and sat to lace his boots, letting her fade from his thoughts as daylight pushed in. The Freelands filled the space she left.
"It has to be. I'm not losing this city. Shatterbay is mine."
A pulse went out through the broodlink to Panic and Snare.
'Head to me. We're leaving.'
Two sharp bursts of excitement answered. He could already feel them closing in.
There were loose ends to tie first. Ash. The Time Capsule. Orders to give, posts to assign. Then he'd move out with Min and the Brood. Lynn had begged to come and would be coming too. His first leveling party.
He left the office with Yu-na's scent still clinging to him, the ache still in his skin, but it didn't slow him. His focus was fixed forward.
On the Freelands.
On his next evolution.