Chapter 25 - Atharost

From behind the ifrit three arrows soared into the room and planted themselves in the ifrit’s back. It howled and in a fury burst completely into flames again. Whirling around, the living inferno roared and literally flew out into the hallway to slam into the culn archers that had dared attack it.

Trey just watched as fire streaked to the left of the hall, then to the right, blasts of yellow, orange and red light filling up the room from outside. He had a wave of relief hit him as he watched his mana bar slowly fill up. The wounds he’d received were now fully healed, and Rivia stopped her chant while nervously making her way over to where he sat.

“... What now?” Rivia asked shakily, she was anxiety-stricken and obviously trying not to hyperventilate.

Trey on the other hand was just trying not to focus on her breasts, trying to keep his head in the game. He snapped out of it with urging from Sithis and began to get up. Then he took another look at Jerekka.

Control Limit Slots: 4 of 4 used.

Trey’s Minions:

Napoleon, Oblivion Imp, Level 6 (1 slot)(Liked) Talsh’Noc’Un Greatsword, Living Weapon (1 slot)(Content) Jerekka Zoz, Culn, Level 5 (1 slot)(Hated) Rivia Ahst, Culn, Level 2 (1 slot)(Terrified)

The worthless asshole hadn’t helped hardly at all and had immediately died coming in. Now it would take 5 entire days for him to respawn... Trey didn’t have that long. He would find another culn or maybe even a minotaur on the way out and force them into subjugation before he left.

“... Master?” Rivia asked again nervously. The young woman was shivering violently and Trey almost, ALMOST felt pity for her even after what her people had done to the prisoners he'd helped escape.

“You are dismissed, slave.” Trey said a moment later, using his minion’s call spell to channel the dark magic and sent her to the nether realm with a pentagram of red glowing light. A second later and she was gone. Another second later and Trey had unbound Jerekka from his minion contract.

“You have dissolved Jerekka Zoz’s minion contract. Your culn minion is now free from your service, but because he is currently dead his soul will be sent to the void.”

Trey shrugged indifferently. The guy had been no different from the other douchebags who had eaten the humans and dwarves alive. He couldn’t care less about some jackass NPC’s soul going to ‘the void,’ wherever the hell that was.

Control Limit Slots: 3 of 4 used.

Trey’s Minions:

Napoleon, Oblivion Imp, Level 6 (1 slot)(Liked) Talsh’Noc’Un Greatsword, Living Weapon (1 slot)(Content) Rivia Ahst, Culn, Level 2 (1 slot)(Terrified)

Picking up Talsh’Noc’Un by the hilt and coming to the doorway, he was shocked by the trail of bodies left in the ifrit’s path. There were at least twenty of the corpses strewn all over the hallway, most of them being cooked into medium-well slabs of steak.

The sound of fighting was continuing further down the passage and back where he’d come from earlier towards the feasting hall. Cursing his luck at having to go back through the battle to escape, he began creeping forwards along the charred stone floor at a slow but steady pace.

He had to hand it to Talsh’Noc’Un though, the sword’s intuition about summoning that creature was right on the money.

Coming to a stop at the nearby bend in the passage, he inched his face across to get a good look at what was happening. Unfortunately for him, this meant a face full of flames from a misfired spell when he poked his head out at the exact wrong time.

Screaming and swatting at the flames along his head and face Trey rolled around on the ground until they eventually died out. Second and third degree burns peeled off his skin in patches and his left eye was done for. Tears streamed down and he began to hyperventilate for a minute or two, not having realized how painful burning to death would be until that very moment.

Booms and echoes, screams and battlecries sounded off with flashes of light that told him the ifrit was still very much alive. Not that he hadn’t expected it anyways because of the fire that’d just charred him.

As he got up, he heard someone or something screaming; and it was getting nearer. In particular - his horns felt the vibrations of something big running his way. Ignoring the pain of his burned face as best he could and pressing up against the wall, he waited until the screaming was directly on top of him. Readying the greatsword his eyes widened in surprise as a large minotaur completely alight with flame rammed into the stone wall to his right, flailing about in uncontrollable wailing while it tried to unsuccessfully put the fires on its hairy body out.

He took the opportunity at hand and brought his greatsword down on the creature, ending its suffering, but he had to be careful not to step too close to the corpse lest he get burned again.

“You have gained XP.”

Trey twitched with pain. Turning around the corner, he was thankful that no flames hit him again, and it took him a bit of squinting with his remaining good eye to take in all of what was going on.

The ifrit had been cornered.

Bolts with connected steel wires and numerous nets littered the feasting hall. Burning, turned-over tables were plenty and many more corpses littered the ground than when Trey had first left this room. Some of the bolts were embedded in the ifrit’s legs, chest, or right arm - having skewered the demon all the way through and holding him there so he couldn’t fly. The wires were attached to modified crossbows that five of the culn were grappling with. A steel wire net had also been thrown over the ifrit and heavy lead balls weighed it down to further slow it.

Meanwhile, the ifrit was screaming in an enraged fit of violence: firing out as many blasts of flame as it could, but Trey could tell it was running low on mana. The original blast of fire Trey’d first seen was immensely stronger than the smaller ones emitted now, and the roaring inferno that had encompassed the ifrit’s body was now down to a smoldering flicker.

“FORWARD!” a culn soldier roared behind a tower shield in phalanx formation with ten others like him. Five in front, five in back. They pressed forward into the flames, over the bodies of their fallen comrades and minotaurs to slowly advance despite the flames crashing against their defenses. Behind the front line, the soldiers used their own tower shields to protect the tops of the front line while readying their spears to rush in on the ifrit when chance permitted.

Now the ifrit was panicking, trying to fire off at the culn holding crossbows but for the mostpart missing, only scorching the tops of their heads or bottoms of their feet as the archers kept a wary cover and did their best to hold onto their bolted cords. If they let go, the ifrit would be free to fly again. That, in turn, would spell disaster for the culn.

So there stood Trey, behind the culn lines and watching in amazement at the battle between the two sides. On the opposite end of the room stood the previously hidden entrance, still ajar and inviting him in.

But he had to cross the battle to get there.

“GET READY!” the leader of the culn squad yelled out to the acknowledgement of the others in the phalanx. “WE CIRCLE IT AND KILL IT FROM ALL SIDES! KEEP YOUR SHIELDS UP AND SPEAR THAT BASTARD! GO NOW!”

Battle cries sounded again as the culn broke formation and charged. They all still kept their shields up but they broke ranks to begin surrounding the ifrit and hoisted their spears to run it through. One, two and then three culn soldiers fell screaming to a cindered death before the other 9 collapsed in on it.

“CULN WORMS!” the ifrit screeched as the foremost of them ran him through. The spear entered the ribcage at a downward angle and exited out his back. The look of shock on the ifrit’s face was apparent, even with the five bolts lodged in his body, but he took the hit in stride and whipped his tail around to impale that same culn warrior’s hand.

Then another spear shoved itself forward and pierced the ifrit’s shoulder. The ifrit cried out, this time in horror as yet another spear arked across his back to leave a wide bleeding gash. The flames along the ifrit died down further as yet ANOTHER spear shot forward into his gut, staying there as the culn whooped and hollered victoriously.

“DIE, IFRIT!” screeched the soldier who had designated himself leader of the culn charge. As he finally brought back his own spear to thrust, he went limp. Without a word he fell to the floor, a deep gash in his cervical spine and a greatsword planted halfway into his exposed back.

Trey’d been able to assassinate three of the culn archers before the other two had noticed, and he’d taken the initiative amidst their warning cries to rush the frontline fighters. Yanking his greatsword out of the culn’s chainmail armor, he grinned widely. His mana was halfway regenerated now, allowing him to cast three consecutive chaos balls.

They exploded on impact, shattering one enemy’s face and breaking another’s shield along with the arm that held it. The third chaos ball missed completely, the soldier dodged and cursed at Trey before counterattacking with his spear. The attack never hit though. Trey vanished in a puff of shadows to reappear right behind him, lodging his greatsword squarely into the man’s armored skull. It was a particularly cheap move that worked readily enough, shadowstepping behind an enemy’s back to counterattack, but Trey didn’t care about the means as long as the outcome was favorable.

The thin layer of linked steel wasn’t enough to keep the warrior alive. Blood splattered and the culn’s eyes rolled back from shock, his body dropping limply to the ground with his cervical spine severed.

“You have gained XP.”

“KILL HIM!” yelled another warrior, yanking a throwing axe from where it was attached his hip just as he was tripped by Trey’s tail wrapping around his ankle. The ifrit immediately took it upon himself to pour what remaining mana he had into another attack, baking the culn alive inside his metal shell with a sadistic grin now that the tower shield had dropped.

That being said, even as the ifrit grinned maliciously, Trey could tell the light was leaving its eyes. The movements were sluggish and bleeding, gaping wounds littered the ifrit’s body. It looked at Trey with mild curiosity in its dying moments, and was going in and out of consciousness while more of the culn fell around him.

Another whip of Trey’s tail disarmed one of the remaining culn soldiers, flinging the spear away and pulling the demon man downwards just as Trey’s foot came up to spartan kick the guy’s face. The culn’s neck snapped back and stunned him so that when the claws came for his neck - he couldn’t react fast enough.

“You have gained XP.”

Now there were only two archers and a single spearman alive. Cursing and tossing aside their cabled bolts that held the ifrit, they exchanged them for free flying bolts with lacerating edges.

Sithis internally reveled as he accurately fired a smaller chaos ball out in Trey’s peripheral vision to slam into the archer’s weapon, breaking the crossbow along with the culn’s hands in an agonized wailing fit. During that same moment: Trey was doing battle with the last of the culn soldiers, the man was losing ground and he stepped back in a panic. Each strike let off with Trey’s sword was deflected by the heavy steel shield, leaving dents in the shield’s metal but it was still holding out.

Trey tried the demon’s left flank and rushed him only to have a bolt land squarely across his ear. If he hadn’t reeled back his head in time he would have been killed instantly. Instead, it just took the entire ear off and left a streak of bloody laceration across the entire left side of his face.

“DAMN IT! Not again!” Trey yelled as the culn archer laughed. The spearman capitalized on the opportunity and in a strange move that Trey didn’t really understand: rammed his shield into Trey’s exposed front.

It wasn’t the act itself that Trey didn’t understand, it was the faint green glow the culn’s body left off before it concentrated power into the soldier’s shield. It was the discharge that blow gave off when it made contact, and it was the enormous force behind an attack that didn’t look like it could’ve downed Trey at all.

Trey’s body was flung crashing through a burned table behind him, and the impact stunned him for a moment. He saw the spear coming for him as he looked up and back-flipped, returning immediately after to do a spinning roundhouse kick - courtesy of his martial arts training.

‘HAHAAAA!!!! STYLE POINTS!’ Sithis laughed internally as the culn’s neck snapped at the impact, leaving the archer’s mouth gaping in astonishment. It didn’t take a heartbeat later for the last remaining culn soldier, the archer, to get up running and screaming for help.

“Your hand to hand combat has increased by 1 level. You have gained XP. You have gained 1 overall level.”

Trey cracked his neck as he watched the archer leave and scoffed at the notification concerning his hand to hand combat.

“My hand to hand skill should be a hell of a lot higher than ‘level 2.’ What a joke.” Trey muttered, insulted that the system didn’t recognize it and casting shade on what Trey thought was a honed combat training disregarding weapons.

‘I believe it to be a modifier increasing damage output, not an indication of skill.’ Sithis postulated. ‘It wouldn’t make sense otherwise.’

Trey flinched as he reached up to feel where his left ear had been. It was still bleeding like all hell, but his HP bar was still above 60%. That being said, HE wasn’t the one in serious trouble. Walking over to the ifrit pincushion, Trey knelt beside the dying greater class demon and gently placed a hand on the creature’s shoulder.

The ifrit’s breathing was shallow, his flames were gone and his eyes were drooping. Blood covered most of his body and he could barely hold his head up, but he still managed to grin at Trey when he saw him kneeling.

“I... am surprised... by you...” the ifrit muttered in the native demonic tongue. His voice was raspy, his breathing was harsh, and it was obvious he was struggling to hold on. He coughed and sent flecks of blood onto the floor to join the puddle accumulating there. “Have you... come... to kill me...? Or mock... me?”

Trey just shook his head with a sad smile. “No. I have come to offer you a deal.”

He raised his hand and began to concentrate. Seconds later a familiar pentagram illuminated the rock floor and then flashed. There in the dying light, 30 seconds later, stood Rivia. The culn girl was alert and anxiety-ridden, but she knelt upon being summoned and bowed her head to Trey.

“Yes my lord, what is it you wish of me?” She noticed the collection of bodies first, keeping her head low as her eyes wandered the carnage. Trey could see her breathing rate increase by the moment. Either she was angry, or still very scared.

“My lord?” Trey mused. He liked that name.

The girl nodded. “You... are my new lord, are you not?”

Trey nodded in a thoughtful pose. “Yes I am. Now please heal our ifrit friend here... we owe him a favor after getting my ass out of that mess. Then if we have time, heal me as well.”

Rivia looked visibly upset at the request but nodded and did as she was told, while the ifrit continued to slouch in his kneeling position with shallow ragged breaths. The miracle didn’t take long to cast and Trey still didn’t hear anyone coming in from the halls, so he summoned Napoleon and told the imp to keep watch on the hall that the culn archer had left through.

At the end of channeling two separate miracles, one for each of the men, Rivia was told to go find some new clothes and that they were leaving soon. Trey specifically asked her to find a cloak for him to take as he really didn’t want to be berated by any of Oblivion’s bad weather again. Upon being informed they were leaving, Rivia began to cry... but she kept it to a minimum and went to obey her new master anyways.

Meanwhile, the ifrit continued to sit in the same position it had been left in after the spears had run it through. The greater class demon shifted its weight confidently while staring Trey down. Trey stared right back as he waited calmly for Rivia to return, but before that happened the ifrit chose to speak.

“... My name... is Atharost. What is your name, human?”

“Trey! My name is Trey.” he immediately replied, extending a hand of friendship out, only for the demon to look at it curiously and dismiss it before continuing the conversation.

“What is the deal you spoke of?”

Cinders flickered around the ashen room. Burnt corpses and overturned broken furniture was rampant, and that smell... Trey kinda liked it.

He shifted forward, rubbing the spot where his ear had momentarily been shot off and feeling the soft new flesh between his fingers. He cleared his throat. “Well... Yeah. I was hoping that... uh, that I’d be able to convince you to join me as a minion.”

Atharost’s expression didn’t change. If anything, the Ifrit showed absolutely no emotion. “What would compel me to do that? My kind has been hunted to the brink of extinction by warlocks and summoners for our power, as well as other demon races who fear us or competed with us in the millenia past. Why would I pledge myself to one like you?”

Trey shrugged. “Because I saved your life?”

Atharost’s head shot back in a heavyset laugh. He was smiling, genuinely this time, and calmed himself to look the other man in the eyes. “This is true, but you also put me in this situation to begin with.”

“I also released you from centuries of imprisonment!” Trey retorted, beaming happily.

Atharost’s grin faded slightly, but he kept a friendly composure. “Has it been that long?”

They were interrupted by Rivia. She’d walked over with some clothes she’d stripped off the corpses, handing Trey a black cloak in the process which he quickly donned. It had taken her a while to find ones that weren’t soaked with blood or burnt, but she had eventually succeeded in finding a pair of hooded black silk robes like the ones she had ruined when Trey had attacked her earlier.

Her old garments were bloodied and charred, and she quickly changed her own clothes within less than a minute. Somehow she made the act of putting on clothes just as attractive as taking them off, and Trey couldn’t help but stare at the demon he’d claimed for his own as he watched her toned figure work them on. She gave him a timid look when she caught his gaze and she quickly looked away with Atharost catching the exchange between the two.

“How long has she been yours?” Asked Atharost curiously. “For a culn, she is fairly attractive.”

The question caused Trey to huff.

“Just today. Placed a contract on her after I came back for revenge against a culn officer who killed me in cold blood. That’s actually why I was here to begin with.” Trey shrugged and nodded to the girl. “A damn good asset with that healing of hers. Her people shouldn’t have fucked with me.”

Atharost’s eyes narrowed. “You... were killed?”

Trey’s eyes rose and he realized he hadn’t shown the ifrit his status page. With permanence, he was hoping that it would be leverage to get Atharost on his side. After all, his immortality was his minion’s immortality by extension during the ON phases of All Spirit permanence. Right?

Well that thought process was absolutely correct. As Trey went over how he was able to respawn and come back to life, Atharost became intrigued. The ifrit became even more intrigued when he learned of immortality by extension. Rivia was listening just as keenly but trying not to make it obvious, her eyes widening as she listened to how it all worked for Trey and the other Earthborn. Then he told them all about the system message he’d recieved from the All Spirit, and how he expected many more Earthborn to not only be here currently... but also to show up in the future. It was a lot to contemplate for the native NPCs and neither Rivia nor Atharost said much as they pondered it all.

Another minute passed before they finally got up to leave.

“Wasting more time here will land us another fight.” Trey stated as he pointed to the hidden passageway’s latch still ajar along the wall. “Come on, let’s walk and talk. Grab some food for the road… I don’t want to be here when they send more reinforcements.”

They all agreed and followed Trey out, with Napoleon coming to sit along Trey’s shoulder and giving the ifrit wary glances at random.

They walked in silence. Trey had a feeling of relief and accomplishment, while Napoleon was beginning to tire and curled up in Trey’s arms just as they reached the end of the miles long tunnel. Along the way, Rivia kept giving longing looks back the way they had come and occasionally let out a stifled sob; tears occasionally trickling down her face as she trembled. Atharost on the other hand was absolutely quiet, pondering what he had been told.

After climbing the ladder and into the dark night, they stood together on the hill and watched the fortress far out from their position. The culn were scrambling their warriors and opening the gates for patrols to leave. It was without question that those patrols were looking for them.

“They are coming to avenge their fallen.” Atharost said quietly, a grim smile on his face with another stifled sob as Rivia covered her face and trembled some more.

The culn girl looked like she was seriously upset, but Trey didn’t give a shit. Not after what he’d see them do.

“Perhaps I should just kill you like I did the others?” Trey mused out loud for Rivia to hear, but the culn girl quickly shook her head and began trembling even more violently.

“No my lord! I will serve you faithfully! Please... let me live.”

Trey nodded in satisfaction and turned to the ifrit. “Well, have you considered my offer? No hard feelings if you don’t, but I could use all the help I can get.”

Napoleon remained silent and Talsh’Noc’Un hissed sporadically in the cool breeze of the night air until Atharost began to speak. Their eyes met, and then the ifrit bowed on one knee.

“Not only did you save me, but you could have forced me to submit if you had wanted to instead of healing me. You showed me kindness, and it is not something I will forget.”

Atharost lifted his head. “I am... young, and inexperienced for my kind. If you still wish that I come, I will serve you. You will be my new lord, and I will do my best to show you that our friendship will be a benefit to us both.”

“Atharost the Ifrit wishes to make a pact with you. Do you accept or decline?”

The All Spirit’s mechanical voice spoke into Trey’s mind, and they were the most beautiful words Trey had heard to date. He willed the ‘Accept’ option to activate.

“You have made a pact with Atharost the Ifrit. Atharost is now registered as your minion. To see more information about your minion, go to its Status Page.”

The biggest shit-eating grin Trey had mustered in the last three years spread across his face and he placed a hand on Atharost’s shoulder. “I look forward to our growing friendship. Welcome aboard Atharost. Now let’s get the hell out of here and figure out how to leave.”

Atharost stood and received a surprise barrage of compliments from the little imp on Trey’s shoulder, causing him to smile. The greater class demon began to chuckle, just as Trey did, and together they sat laughing at the tiny enthusiastic creature under the black night sky of Oblivion.

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Simplified Status Page for Atharost

Name: Atharost

Race: Ifrit, Greater Demon

Class: N/A

Level: 21 (2 skill points, 10 stat points to spend)

HP: 278/278

MP: 402/402

SP: 100/100

DP: 1/1

Skills: Firebolt (lvl. 23^^) (Fire), Fireblast (lvl. 18^) (Fire), Wall of Flames (lvl. 8)(Fire)

Firestorm (lvl. 2) (Tier 2 Fire), Demon Tail (lvl. 11^), Hand to Hand Combat (lvl. 7)

Traits: Flying, Life of Phoenix, Fireform, Trey Bon’s Minion

Magical Attributes: Fire

Opinion of you: Liked

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