***The Infernal Planes of Gluttony***

***The Stooges***

“Do you think he is one of the insane ones?” Philomena whispered to the three remaining members of her group, hoping that she wouldn’t be overheard by the strange imp who had taken over their little family. “He is just sitting on that stone all day, asking us strange questions and whispering to himself. I say that we should run back to the town and sell someone the information that he is here. I bet he escaped from some strong family. You don’t get those wings if you aren’t force-fed powerful souls by a progenitor of high standing.”

Shax only shrugged in response and scratched his butt. “But he killed Valar. Doesn’t that give him the right to command us?”

Kitia nodded, affirming that she was also an imp who would prefer to honour the very few social rules demons had. “It’s the tradition that you can keep what you kill, and Valar was our leader… in a sense,” she added the last bit as an afterthought, implying that it wasn’t entirely true.

“Only because he was stupid enough to provoke everyone into attacking him. He is an idiot and got himself killed more often than not. And we profited from it. It helped us to avoid accidentally challenging something stronger than us!” Uphir voiced his opinion of their former leader without mincing words. “We allowed him to think of himself as the leader to avoid trouble. That doesn’t mean that he was our true leader.”

“Maybe he was the leader in name only, but a leader he was, even if it meant that he was the first to stick his head into a trap. That said, why didn’t he come back for us? Shouldn’t he have respawned by now?” Kitia stepped from one foot to the other, admittedly also anxious to get away from the insane imp. She wasn’t keen on violating the law of the kill, and yet, having Valar return and beat that strange imp would be an acceptable solution to the dilemma.

Shax sniffed and picked his nose, fishing for a big one. He never made the impression of being the smartest imp around, nor was he a demon of many words, but the group accepted the fact that he often had some strange insights which had to be respected. Therefore, he was never questioned by the others when he decided to share some wisdom. “Was his last soul.”

“Oh…” Kitia actually managed it to sound a little sad before she cheered up again. “May the Infernum take him!”

“May the Infernum take him!” The others recited with more fervour, showing that they were true imps. Their former leader hadn’t exactly wormed his way into their hearts and was indeed in reality just the idiot who they used to spring traps. It also wasn’t as if he had been with them for long.

Their only problem was that they were now down one willing idiot to stick his neck out for the group.

Baaar was a harsh city and death awaited around every corner. Being imps, the four accepted that as a fact of life. They also knew that the Infernum had worse things to offer than a final death. Who was to say that their former leader hadn’t found a better end than they would down the road?

Kitia finally steered the conversation away from Valar. “So, what tasks did you guys get? I swear that this Amon has a loose horn. Never in my three hundred and forty-nine years of life was I asked to get someone access to a non-magical realm with technology. Who would want that? The souls from those realms are more often than not totally useless.”

The others nodded silently, equally perplexed about this strange request. As beings who lived in the Infernum, a set of dimensions that was so heavily saturated with mana that there wasn’t a single creature to be found who didn’t make use of it in some way, they couldn’t even conceive of a rational use for a soul that didn’t know how to wield magic.

Demons lived and breathed magic with all their souls. They were the magic. To intentionally hunt for souls from a non-magical realm was a waste of time.

Uphir was the next to share his task with the others, “I was told to find several safe spots in Baaar where one would be undisturbed for a time – preferably close to the city’s Anima Stone.” He shook his head. “I already told Amon that this would be impossible, especially while the selections for Lord Ostreios’ legion are ongoing. The only way would be to go down into the sewers, but those are so infested with demonlings that not even the adult warrior demons would be going down there.”

Philomena took her tail in both hands and started fidgeting while trying to come up with a solution. “Maybe you could make a place temporarily safe enough to stay in with poison? But no, the bodies that would pile up would start stinking pretty quickly. I still don’t get what use a base of operations would be in the sewers. Does it really have to be close to the Anima Stone?”

Uphir nodded. “The closer, the better, he said.”

She shook her head, showing an expression of utter befuddlement. “Makes at least a little more sense than my task.”

“What does he want from you?” Kitia asked.

“He wants a stick that doesn’t easily bend or break,” Philomena reiterated. “And it has to be made out of a material that’s easy to enchant. I have yet to come up with a solution, but there is an Archmage who summons me regularly. I might just nab his staff the next time he needs my help and bring it back with me. Oh, and he wants me to recruit more imps to our task. I have no idea how to accomplish that at this point.”

Which left only Shax to share the mystery of his task.

“Demonlings,” the imp declared.

“Demonlings?” Kitia repeated.

Shax nodded. “He wants me to recruit all the demonlings to form a legion.”

Uphir threw up his hands. “That’s it! Amon is soul-drunk! Most of the demonlings out here aren’t even sentient because their progenitors didn’t give them souls. There are only a handful of semi-intelligent leaders in each flock and sometimes not even that. How are you supposed to negotiate with them? Do we really have to go along with this? I say, we just abandon him here and go back to the city! We don’t have to loot items on the battlefield. Let’s just return to catching demonlings for the cooks.”

Shax pulled down the corners of his mouth, clearly displeased by the proposal. “But I had a plan…”

Kitia placed a hand on Shax’s shoulder and tried her best to sound reasonable. “Shax, you can’t reason with a flock of demonlings. They will just swarm you and in less than a minute there is nothing left but clean-picked bones and you are one soul poorer.”

He shook his head in response. “There is one thing they care about, and that is food. Promise them food and they will listen.”

Philomena sighed, looking utterly dejected. “Okay, let’s assume that we keep our honour and our lives because challenging Amon for leadership feels like a certain way to die. Let’s also assume that he isn’t completely insane, and all of this is actually part of some really twisted, confused plan. How do all of these elements fit together?”

Four imps, with even the youngest one among them at least two hundred years old, sat together. By surviving Baaar for this long, they had proven that while they hadn’t thrived, they also weren’t stupid.

They debated, they theorized, and they gnawed their claws for hours, but nothing made sense. Oh, they had ideas as to why Amon would want the things he had instructed them to get, but actually maintaining control of Baaar’s demonling population for any length of time was inconceivable. Much less having the assistance of a sizeable number of imps.

In the end, all their theories would always come back to one all-consuming question.

Why, by the Infernum, would he need a stick!?

***The Infernal Planes of Gluttony***

***Amon***

The new imp who Philomena had brought charged me and I whacked him down with my new educational stick. He hit the ground hard, and I continued whacking him with fervour. It wasn’t just to teach him and my growing band of minions a lesson… to my shame, I had to admit that hitting him was fun.

My entire life as a demonling I was the weakest of the group. I always wondered why those in power would abuse their rank and influence as they did. Now that I was in charge I acted very much the same.

It is true that power corrupts.

Well, at least it wasn’t as if I killed without reason. That was certainly a point in my favour… or was it?

My group had carved out a little safe zone with an improvised camp right at the edge of all the fighting. We had yet to take action since I wanted to be absolutely sure of my plan. There was much I had yet to learn about my opponent and how Baaar as a whole functioned.

The reward was nothing less than ascension. I would become a real demon, and maybe even some of those who followed me. My promises to them hadn’t been lies.

I shook my head and stopped myself from mechanically swinging the stick against the imp who dared to challenge my authority. He was lying on the ground and doing his best to protect at least his head while his body was covered in lacerations.

It would be some time before he would dare to question the hierarchy of my little band again, so I allowed him to crawl away.

My initial four minions had managed to recruit more imps, which rose our numbers from five to forty-three. The only problem was that more minions meant more disobedience within the group and I found myself spending ever more time with keeping everyone in line.

Soon it would be so bad that I would have to spend more time defending my position within the group than with actually furthering my plans. I definitely had to bring everything to a conclusion before that happened.

The fact that our little project had a tight deadline wasn’t helping the matter either and using my first four minions as group-leaders only brought me some reprieve. There was less than a month remaining until Ostreios’ little festival would reach its ultimate conclusion.

Then the Lord of Baaar would choose the best warriors among the contestants and use the Lode Stone. He would open the gate to another Infernal plane and lead his legions on a raid against other Demon Lords or whoever had gained his ire.

According to my minions, all the warriors who wanted to be selected for their Lord’s legion would attempt a final charge on the Lode Stone once the selections ended.

In a sense, that was a good and a bad thing. Good, because it meant complete chaos right at the peak of the competition. Bad, because that would make it so much harder to reach the Lode Stone.

Right at that moment, Kitia popped back into existence after having accepted a summoning a day ago. A summoning circle appeared on the ground and discharged red energies which quickly formed into an imp. She was one of my first minions and so far seemed at least halfway competent in what she was doing.

“I have found one!” she announced prettily, apparently satisfied with her mission.

“Found what?” I asked and beckoned her a little closer to where I was sitting. The large stone in the centre of our camp had become my throne from where I would give orders and listen to my minion’s results.

“I got one of the others to spread my summoning circle in a non-magical realm, and now I can confirm that they have the exact level of technology that you requested. There is some residual background magic in that dimension that allows for a normal summoning, but the locals don’t seem to be aware of it,” she explained eagerly.

“Perfect!” I announced. “Did you spread my summoning circle among them?”

She nodded. “If you would allow the question… why do you need to be in such a realm?”

“I want their weapons, obviously,” I replied.

Kitia pulled a face. “But mortal weapons are inferior to our magic. Why would you want something like a gun?”

I studied her, unsure whether I should share the secret when we were still in the preparatory stages. “Swear by the Infernum that you won’t share the secret with anyone else.”

She shuddered. “That is… verbal?”

“Thought so.” Shrugging, I returned my attention to the camp that I had made my home until it became time to venture onwards.

Surprisingly, Kitia decided that to have knowledge was better than the danger of a verbal oath. “I swear to the Infernum that I won’t share your intentions. So, why do you need access to this mortal plane? I can’t imagine that you want to equip all of the imps with their weapons in order to kill the adult demons.”

I sighed. “No, of course not. A gun would do even less to a demon than a simple fireball. And while having a large band of imps with guns might be somewhat effective against a small group of warrior demons, their inevitable retaliation would end us likely sooner rather than later. Right now, this camp’s existence solely relies on the fact that Baaar’s demons are ignoring us. Their whole attention is on that competition.”

“I still don’t see how mundane weapons could help us any better than magical ones.” Kitia pouted.

I eyed her sideways. “That’s why we have tested the various ways the Infernum would acknowledge that you have earned a soul from a kill.”

My minion shuddered, remembering the experiments which I conducted with some of my less obedient followers. “I gave you the answer beforehand. It wouldn’t have been necessary to do those things.”

“Having first-hand experience is better than pure theory. Otherwise, would I have ever found out about the difference the Infernum is making between a magical and a mundane death?”

It turned out that killing another demon directly, whether through magic or through non-magical means would count the same. Direct action would always be acknowledged.

On the other hand, luring an opponent into a magical trap didn’t give the certainty that a kill counted. There were some aspects to the Infernum’s laws that I hadn’t yet grasped completely. It was hard to deduce the laws of this dimension with such a limited pool of test-subjects. The sixteen imps I had used up so far were only enough to get a general idea of the truth. To be certain of the exact specifics I would have to run a sample-size of several thousand.

The one thing I was certain of was that a non-magical trap compared to magical one had a higher chance that the Infernum would grant me my enemy’s soul. I wasn’t sure whether it relied solely on the killed individual, or if there were other factors in play.

What I was certain of, was that a kill through a trap had to be earned in some kind of way. The Infernum apparently weighed an individual’s honour or judged the idiocy of the victim who fell into the trap.

If I went out onto the battlefield and started planting magical mines everywhere, it would be very unlikely to gain me anything unless they were so blatantly obvious that only a complete moron could fall for them. On that account, the Infernum seemed to weigh non-magical traps as something that only an idiot would fall for, not accounting for the fact that they could be equally effective.

This strange rule of the Infernum was the reason why the demons who participated in the competition preferred personal combat and also explained why demons largely dismissed traps as a reliable way of warfare.

Additionally, smuggling something non-magical into Baaar would be much easier to accomplish and its detection less likely. It was apparent that Kitia’s mindset against using mundane means was a widespread issue among my people and far from uncommon.

Hence my decision to use mundane technologies for our plan.

I wondered whether my different point of view was because of the immortal soul I had. Unlike my other souls, my original one had distinct memories of living in mundane dimensions. After spending a lot of time searching my memories I came to the conclusion that none of my other souls had such experiences. It was something to be remembered and likely connected to the issue that it was an immortal soul.

Once I explained all of this to Kitia she understood that arming ourselves with mundane weapons would be the last thing we wanted to do. No, what we were after were bombs, poisonous gas, and other means of indirect mundane warfare.

The different parts of my plan were slowly coming together. It wasn’t certain how exactly they would fit together, but I was certain that the reward was more than enough to risk a Demon Lord’s ire.

At last, I felt the slight tingle of being summoned and turned to face Kitia. “Hold everything together while I am gone.”

She pursed her lips and looked at the camp, then back at me. The doubt in her mind was blatant to everyone who looked at her.

The imps around us were already looking at her with calculating expressions.

“Take this and punish anyone who dares to cause trouble while I am gone.” I offered her the stick and a collective shudder ran through the camp as everyone looked at the instrument.

Then I addressed my minions as a whole to make it a little easier for Kitia. “Remember, I will be back!”

And with that, I allowed the summoning to whisk me away.