***The Mortal Plane***

***Amon***

My minions smiled as I gestured towards the city. “Set some more fires and stay away from the region further to the right. I will use the opportunity to test some strategic class spells and I will start there.”

“Oh, oh!” Jebril tugged, jumped and waved her hand with an insecure expression on her face. “Can I join you? I don't want to go around the streets alone.”

“... Fine.” I wasn't particularly keen on being alone with the chatty demoness, but she wasn't exactly a combatant. She also had toned down her long speeches since she realized that I wasn't a fan of that.

During our exercises, Jebril had proven her incredible worth as a combat healer and supporter. Be it her healing, her knowledge of curses and hexes, or even her new shielding skills that allowed her to repel Ex at least to some extent.

On the other hand, her offensive abilities were horribly weak and unreliable, since her only real way to do harm was her wish-magic. Having her run through the city while trying to club someone to death with her jingle would be shameful not only for her but also for the one who gave her the order to do so. In other words: Me.

Sometimes I questioned whether she was truly a demon...

Given that our opponents were also sturdier than mere humans, it could be argued that assigning her such a task would also be inhumane towards the fae... or would it be called infae? Was death by jingle a war-crime, as the mortals liked to call it?

Among demons, it would certainly show the utter disrespect you held for your enemy.

Jebril summoned her trademark weapon and shook it, distracting me from my lamentations. “Levitation!” She floated up into the air and kicked off with her foot until she reached me. Then she grabbed my tail. “Ready!”

I heard a snicker and looked down, but whoever had dared to laugh didn't reveal him- or herself. Both Philomena and Uphir were standing ramrod straight without the slightest hint of amusement in their expressions.

“I think that I gave an order?”

“Yes, Sir!” they shouted and ran off.

I deflated a little and angled my wings, flying further up while pulling Jebril with me. They would never have dared to laugh about me while we were back in Baaar. It felt like that was a lifetime ago. Was I being too soft on them?

“You really have to learn a proper flying technique for yourself, Jebril,” I reprimanded my minion, since I could do nothing else at the moment.

“I am so sorry. I know that dragging me around like this is embarrassing,” Jebril replied solemnly, knowing very well that she was the cause for the infraction on my authority.

She had her hands full with learning the new shielding technique, so there was no time to cover her many other shortcomings.

I didn't push the matter any further. Reprimanding her when I was still utterly reliant on my own wings was arrogant of me. Despite its initial troubles, my evolution had provided me with a quick short-cut to flight that never had been available to Jebril. And from what I heard from Ex, true flight for a demonic evolution without wings required an immensely powerful mage soul. Flight abilities weren't easily mastered, and a mage soul powerful enough for true flight would likely propel any demon who was holding it right into Demon Lord territory.

So whether I wanted it or not, neither Jebril, Uphir, nor Kitia would be flying powerhouses any time soon.

We reached a position high above the forest-village, but far enough away from the central fortress. I didn't believe the fortress-guards to be able to launch a meaningful attack against us as long as we stayed at least a hundred metres away from the walls.

“Any suggestions?” I asked the djinn who was floating slightly beneath me while holding onto my tail so that she wouldn't drift off.

She studied the village beneath us while clasping her jingle to her chest. “Ah… the whole settlement is made out of wood. Even the pavement on the roads, so a fire-spell would be the obvious thing to do. With the high ambient mana in this environment, a spell that keeps spreading on its own would be best. It reminds me of what happened when a human named Nero made a wish for me to clear some building space for his new coliseum. The only problem with these fae-trees is that they are apparently warded against fire, or the whole village would already be burning. Maybe you can work something into the spell that pierces their fire wards?”

I considered it. “I don’t think that would be practical since it would require the spell to overcome each ward on its own and they clearly have a lot of them on each house. It would be dangerous to boot for our own people if the fire spreads too qickly. But we may be able to go with a workaround. It’s doubtful that those wards are flawless since the others already managed to set at least some of the buildings aflame. Maybe it’s enough to add a little seeking function to the spell which allows it to actively avoid wards. Once enough fires are going the wards may fail on their own.”

“Oh!” She shook her jingle. “That is a good idea. Do you mind if we try a dual-cast? Ex told me that I should at least improve with empowering the offensive abilities of others.”

I hesitated before I said yes. Hopefully, this wouldn't go wrong too horribly. “Ju- just see to it that the spell doesn't blow up in our faces, okay? It will be fire this time.”

“I told you that was an accident!” Jebril complained. “Admittedly, a horrible one, but Kitia was fine after I fixed her.”

Just the memory of the training incident made me shudder. Jebril had tried to empower Kitia's 'Ice Spike' spell. The problem was that the spell matrix which Kitia used was optimized and not supposed to hold more power than it was designed for. Simply shoving more energy into the spell didn't result in more or bigger icicles. Overwhelmed, some part of the spell matrix had to fail, which happened to be the component responsible for accelerating the icicle.

The result was a piece of ice right in front of Kitia and Jebril that was suddenly and uncontrollably accelerated in all directions at once. Anything could have happened, but the icicle decided that blowing up was the proper consequence. So I had to spend the next twenty minutes casting warming spells in an attempt to melt the countless super frozen, dust-like shards of ice that had perforated the two females but not quite killed them.

Sometimes, the sturdiness of demonic physique was a true curse.

“Just no experiments, okay?” I clarified, knowing that the two of us could achieve a much greater result if we were working together. “I am thinking about weaving a simple Ignition spell that keeps replicating as long as a valid target remains. Like something flammable. You can weave in the part that allows it to avoid wards and barriers.”

Jebril put on a grim expression of determination and gave me a nod.

This was it. The decision was made and I spread my hands, pulling in this place’s dense energy to form it into a spell matrix. Jebril joined in, weaving her own energies into the spell which got ever more complex until it manifested into a ball of liquid fire.

I thought I was seeing things when the fire turned blue, but it was apparently the influence of Jebril’s magic on mine.

We finished the spell and sent it down towards the village, where it splashed onto a house-tree. Sparks flew, and the flames started moving as they actively avoided the house's protections. It wasn't a speedy process, but quick enough to make any thought of dousing the flames hopeless. The fire flowed like water, searching out things to burn.

I smiled. “It looks like that worked. Care for a few more?”

Jebril nodded eagerly and we started on a slow tour around the forest fortress while the fae were throwing us angry glances from their stronghold, but none dared to leave their hideout and challenge us. Meanwhile, we threw blue napalm every few dozen metres while we experimented with the spell.

Jebril even added a little extra that allowed the flames to search out living targets which worked especially well on the woodland creatures.

While we worked, I saw my other minions fighting in the streets from time to time.

Shax had gotten a long pole from somewhere and was running around with several screaming fae staked onto it. Often times, that was enough to make anyone who attempted to confront him choose the wiser option, namely to flee.

The trail of corpses that Philomena left behind with her axe was unmistakable. There was something about a street of dismembered corpses that simply told people to turn the other way.

Kitia was the only one who didn’t make a great show out of her battles. After running into that fae trap she had gotten wise to their tricks and avoided entering the houses. Instead, she hunted the fae in the narrower alleyways, leaving frozen bodies in her path.

Uphir kept to the shadows. The only thing that reminded me of his presence were the heads that he kept piling up in front of each building as if he was trying to make a collection.

At last, our work was done, and a burning ring of fire surrounded the fortress. The fire slowly but steadily ate up the city while survivors were trying to flee or to fight the invaders.

“I wonder why they aren't sending anyone for us,” Jebril mused. “We are practically slaughtering their civilians.”

“Maybe they are cold-hearted bastards?” I suggested. “Maybe they don't care for those who are weak? But maybe you are right. The village will burn down on its own, and none of those who are living outside the fortress are able to put up a proper fight. Call for the others to gather while I test the fortress' defences.”

Jebril did as ordered while I sent a few tentative fireballs at the fortress. I wasn't surprised when they smashed without effect against a barrier that reinforced the gates. It looked like we had to bring out the big guns after all and throw around some siege-breaker spells. Luckily, Ex had trained Jebril, Kitia, and me exactly for such a thing.

***The Mortal Plane***

***Isabella***

The entire fortress shook, forcing me and several fae in the same corridor to steady ourselves. “Just what are they doing out there? Are they trying to bring down this entire treehouse?” I mumbled to myself and just hoped that they remembered me. According to the plan, I was supposed to be in here.

Another but lesser impact rumbled, and I made my way further down the corridor which was supposed to lead me to the sapling nursery. Finding the place wasn't an issue after I had gathered the proper souls. It seemed like every fae knew what the children of wizards, witches, and warlocks, or other supernaturals with magical talent were good for.

The other people on the corridor ignored me as they hustled about, each trying to accomplish some goal in order to prepare for the intruders. To them, I was just another warrior who was doing his duty.

I straightened my back, trying my best to radiate the confidence a fae warrior should have. Here I stood. A man, no, what was I thinking? A fae who thought himself immortal and more powerful than any of the lesser races. A demi-god among wild animals.

The fae were proud and old, more powerful than any other, and cruel beneath all their beauty. They couldn't understand the woes of those who didn't belong to their kin.

I huffed. Despite all the bravado, it was all a dream, an illusion they had wrought upon themselves and cast upon their very souls until they could do nothing else but believe in their own doctrine like religious zealots. The truth was that they were withering husks in mortal shells, held alive by the life-forces of those they sucked dry to prolong their own lifespans.

To satisfy their own delusions of superiority, they even designed a way that would allow them to do so by proxy.

They would never admit it, but the fae were just like any of the other races in this world. I tasted their souls, their life-power, and found it lacking, diluted with the lifeblood of others. These fae had wrought a world of magic and saturated it with the life of those they claimed to be lesser than themselves so that they could feed on it with every breath they took.

It was wasteful and brought a bad taste to their power which was tainted with the pain of their victims, not as delightful and final as when succubi took our power. Their way meant a long and painful existence for their victims.

I reached the entrance and another guard tried to stop me.

“Stop! Your purpose for being here?” he asked in a brisk manner.

“The prince ordered me to oversee the relocation of the saplings to a safer location,” I replied while looking up and down the corridor. There were still two more fae on the T-section to my left. Witnesses who I didn’t need.

“I haven't heard of-”

I cut him off, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “Do you see that emblem on my chest.” I pointed. “It says that I am one of the gate-guards, and therefore-”

He hissed and shoved me back. “And that’s why you shouldn’t be here.”

The potential witnesses looked at us but then turned around the corner. Apparently, they didn't want to get involved with the guard.

I let out a sigh of relief. It was no longer necessary to hide so shamefully.

He pressed on, “Show me that order of-”

I interrupted him with my own voice, “If my sisters ever hear about me sneaking around a fortress like this, they will laugh at me for at least a decade!” It was utterly humiliating that I couldn't simply compel these creatures to do what I wanted. Hundreds of years of living on the life-forces of others had turned them into asexual pimps without the slightest sex drive.

The guard froze in bewilderment as he tried to process what had just happened. I could almost see the little gears in his head come to a halt as they tried to make sense of something that didn’t fit his idea of reality.

They all reacted like this… and that little moment of hesitation was enough for me to strike out with my fist, crushing his windpipe. He choked and took a step back, but he didn’t fall, so I brought my foot up between his legs and smashed what little he had down there.

It wasn’t very professional of me, and honestly, I only did it because I was so annoyed at the fae’s resistance to my charms.

His legs came together, catching my foot on his groin.

I cursed as I jumped back and forth on my remaining leg while he fumbled for the sword on his belt. Some fae were sturdy bastards and the moment I hadn’t finished him off immediately I had messed up.

“H-” He hustled, but his throat didn’t work. “A-”

I pushed off the ground with my remaining foot, bringing it up and around in a perfect roundhouse kick which landed on my opponent’s temple. The fae’s neck snapped and both of us went down.

Cursing, I quickly got up and pulled him into the nursery before I closed the door. It even had a glyph for an automatic barrier, so I switched that on too.

Then I turned and took in the large room with the fourteen cribs and three more fae who were looking at me with fear in their eyes. Luckily, those weren’t warriors, but some kind of nurses.

The body to my feet twitched, so I brought my foot up and cast a rune which increased the gravity as it came back down on the guard’s head. The skull literally exploded beneath my boot, creating a picture of fae-gore that had a lot of similarities with a Rorschach test.

Number fourteen – I counted in dismay. Fourteen times I had failed as a succubus.

One of the fae dropped his miniature watering can and started screaming while the others huddled towards the far wall at the other side of the room.

I sighed and snapped my fingers, casting another rune that silenced the screamer by sucking all of the air out of his lungs while I reverted back to my original form. The other two fae seemed content with huddling against their wall, so I ignored them for now.

While the screamer choked to death, I felt the soul of the guard who I just killed enter my soul well. “That makes it fourteen… or is it already fifteen?” I mused, hoping that my sisters would never find out that I killed over a dozen mortals without fucking a single one of them. Well, maybe they would forgive me if I explained that these fae had no dicks to fuck.

I finally had the time to take in the room and the cribs with the human demonlings… babies? Only that they weren’t really cribs. Instead, like everything the fae did, they were little trees in pots that held the human offspring inside a living cocoon.

Two had already almost completely fused with the babies. Roots and little nourishing threads like from some mycelium covered their skin and penetrated it in places. It was a really strange way to harvest life-energy, but very efficient, I supposed.

Sniffing, I wandered down the row of cocoons until I found the human offspring that smelled like Loretta. The roots had already grown all over his weak, fleshy body. A demonling would have had no problem with freeing himself from such a feeble prison.

“There you are!” I grabbed the sleeping baby and pulled it out of the parasitic crib.

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have done that, but who would have known that ripping a few little roots out of his skin would wake him up?

I winced when the fleshbag woke up and started screaming as if I had cut off an arm. “Shh! Shh! Not so loud. There, I will heal you and make it all better!” Smiling, I kissed the useless thing on the forehead and transferred some life-energy to it. Within moments, all his aches and hurts were taken care of.

But it didn’t stop screaming.

I was doing something wrong, or… the fae had done something else to the child! The contract said that we would bring Loretta the baby unharmed, so whatever they did, they had to reverse it!

Narrowing my eyes, I rounded on the two remaining fae. “Why is he still crying? What did you do to him?”

It took a moment for the left one, a woman, to muster some courage. “They do that if they aren’t sedated by the sapling…”

I stepped closer and knelt down in front of the cowering fae. “But the contract says that he gets back to his mother unharmed. Why else would he be crying if there isn’t something wrong with him? You did something!”

The two fae looked at me as if I were mad. But I wasn’t mad. I was a succubus.

How the heck should I know what a mortal infant needs? I was well versed in the process of making them, but my kind rarely had offspring of their own. With an age over eighty, I had yet to lay a single egg. Nor did any of my sisters within my lifetime.

“Maybe he is hungry?” The other fae, a male, suggested. “In the early phase of the merging with the sapling we have to feed them.”

My look told them that I had no clue what a baby ate. “Like… flesh?” I questioned. “Demonlings eat almost anything. Can we feed the dead guard to him?” I stood up and turned towards the corpse before the female fae stopped me.

“They can’t eat raw flesh!” she explained hastily. “It’s a human baby. They need milk.”

I turned back. “Milk? How can I get milk in here? Are you trying to trick me in order to save the body of your fellow fae?”

“Of course not! And isn’t it obvious since the mother must… you know…” The male shrugged and indicated his chest. “… from the mother.” And then his eyes strayed towards my assets.

It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to men checking out my boobs. I was very aware that the bigger they were, the more attractive the female form was to males of most species. That also counted for demon males since they were often influenced by their mortal souls. But for some reason, the way this fae now looked at me felt so dirty. I had never felt like that in my entire life!

Did he think that we demons were some kind of mammals? My expression turned stony as I looked down at these mortals. “Mine don’t make milk. They are only there to lure in prey.”

“Ah…” The fae paled.

“But milk… is just liquid nutrients, is it not?” I asked myself and mulled over the thought that had taken root in my brain. The keening baby still in my arms, I knelt down to get to eye-level with the two fae and smiled. “Say, you two. Surely you could spare a little blood?”