Demonic Magician

Music was something I had an odd relationship with. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy it - I was human, after all. So much of my adult life had been hearing the simple fanfare tunes that brought me out onto the stage or sent me off. Permeated my brain and made them eager to put their hand up when I tried to recollect a song.

As such, the humming in my head was one of these pleasant intros, getting me ready to arrive on stage. As the cold glass of the [Grand Arcane Potion] touched my lips, I resigned myself to getting the deed done in twenty seconds. A little deadline pressure just made things all the more interesting.

It also was goop, albeit not unpleasant to the taste buds. Like bread or sweet dough, perhaps. Energy flooded my System, mana illuminating through my core as if it was a stage light itself. The tune hit the peak; the crowd holding their breath at my impending reveal.

And thus, it began.

As one of my audience pulled another beam off of me, the wooden debris covering my body burst outward. The small pocket of space expanding violently as something rose to fill it.

“The fuck is-”

My demonic cannon cut off his sentence with a loud blast of confetti - filling the nearby area with small squares of colored paper. Dazzle icons popped up around them all.

“Stab him!”

The spear of the slim man darted past the cannon, finding purchase and breaking bone and flesh. He withdrew it to find the hell-bird impaled on the end of his weapon. Confusion painted his sweaty face. Slim mustache and short, dirty-blonde hair, his armor was cloth and leathers.

Beside him, the gruffer man in chain-mail looked no happier. His round face starting to panic, deep brown eyes trying to search the shadowed space for where I was hiding.

On queue, Ren threw the flower against the cannon, using her entangling shot with the gift as an intended projectile.

Invisibly, I stepped past the two men as roots came up from the messy floor, pinning their legs in place. The woman was wearing half-plate, a cape of red hanging behind her. The silvers were muted, and matched the black dress she wore beneath her armor. Her brow was furrowed, eyes ablaze as she went to cast something.

Second blast of confetti, pasting the two men with more fanfare, icons nearing the double digits already.

Click.

Nullifying Cuff on the woman. I was correct - there was a fourth character in the audience. Tall and masculine, they looked like some manner of lizardman, but they weren’t scaled… more of a hammerhead shark look. Dim gray skin, dark and uncaring eyes. Two barbed blades in their large, webbed hands.

Applying the cuff seemed to count as an attack, which was unfair, but besides the point. I had planned the performance with that in mind already. The supposed attack dropped my invisibility a second early, so I used my momentum to headbutt the woman. I really needed to stop doing that - but it had worked out well enough, and she fell to the ground.

A third blast of confetti signaled the approach of the shark-man, blades bursting into blue fire as a skill launched him toward me.

“He’s behind, fuck!” The gruff man twisted and tried to turn toward me, right before my Hellhound+ leaped out and grabbed onto his arm.

With a click of my fingers, washed through the area. Colored spotlights swirled around before focusing on me. Rapturous applause filled my ears as everything faded away. A crescendo building up to a high point in the performance.

The shark-man stood stunned, aware he was now an important part of what was going to happen. Audience participation could go either way, but he seemed pretty receptive to what I had intended for him. Didn’t really have a choice, actually.

My hand rose up to show the crackling red critical card, and with the potion flooding my body with power, I sunk everything I had into it. It vibrated and shook in my grip as blood ran and dripped to the dust-laden floorboards. Eager to escape and fulfill its purpose.

Now it was time.

As my cannon faded away, I released the card toward the stunned Player. It moved like a flash, akin to the one back at the first area Dungeon. But this was critical. It did not just cut the odd humanoid. It burst halfway inside his chest, cratering most of his insides to fall out in a chunky spray to my feet. An odd bouquet. The applause grew louder, and I smiled.

His inert body dropped to the floor, and the effect faded away. The stun wore off, and I had to earn back those Dazzle icons on the remaining few. Gruff had been broken out of the stun early by my overeager hound - but that was acceptable. I admired the gusto.

Time was running short. I was on a schedule here. Two cards in my hand and out toward the man assailed by my demon. He managed to block one, but the second cut across his face, blinding him.

Thinner man sent out a magic projectile toward me, which blocked. Movement behind me as the woman had risen and drawn a melee weapon to strike me from behind.

Keep the woman alive.

She yelped out in shock as the maimed body of the shark man grabbed her, purple ears flopping down over her face.

I felt myself nearing the edge. Not of switching to the dark side or growing horns and becoming a demon… those days were long past. The edge was just the stage, it bordered what I encompassed, what I drew my power from. I knew my limits... and finally; I knew what I truly was and could accept it. That level of comfort just meant the show was smoother. There were no doubts left.

I loved Ren. I cared for my Party. I would erase the Lady and any of her ilk without a thought.

My feet took me closer to the thin man as the vines faded away, freeing both the captives. Spear in one hand and a knife of magical energy in the other, he darted forward to meet me. Crackling white light, his longer weapon surged toward me, before striking a thick piece of wood that emerged in front of my torso.

If anything, this just infuriated him further, and he grew more desperate.

In total opposition, my face was calm apathy. I had danced like this before, and he was off-key to how the tune was playing in my head. Cards split and circled behind him, taking the gruff man in the arm and neck. Panic across my opponent's face as he heard his accomplice fall to the growls and gnashing of my demon.

I stepped backward, further planks going up and blocking each of his leveled attacks. And he was fast. I could not deny that. Energy from his skills blurred his movements as he lashed out, turning with the blade before jabbing with his spear.

All rather droll, in honesty. I placed my hands behind my back as I felt the potion wear off. Mana Exhaustion hit me and I felt empty. Devoid of anything but desire for rest, for the show to be done already. My head tilted as I continually brought up and put away planks to block each of the continuous attacks leveled at me. You’d think that he would change tactic, but no.

It was too late now, anyway.

The pile of debris beside me—now a lot smaller than when I first stepped beside it—burst apart as the bloodied and angered bear leaped out. Empowered by his own attacks, his large paw came down and smashed the surprised man into the floor.

Show was over, as far as I was concerned, and I turned away. Foregone conclusion once you had Wolf atop you. Instead, I strode over to where Ren was still pinned, and started to vacuum up all the debris that I could, ejecting it out of my Inventory off to the side every time it got too full.

Couldn’t have done this from underneath without risking having more collapse on us, at least unless it was a last resort. It didn’t take much for her radiant hair to bloom out from the darkness, and she sat up on the clearing couch to rub at her head.

“You did it, trickster.” She gave me a pained smile, looking back out at the carnage.

A heal came my way, and I realized I had actually taken some damage during the fight - although I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where. Maybe the wood hadn’t blocked all those strikes. I went over and began excavating Quinn. The hound jumped up on the couch beside Ren for cuddles, while Wolf started to eat some of the man he had pulped.

Roger dragged the captive woman closer to us. Panic and anger in her eyes, but without the blood, she at least had the sense to not try anything stupid.

“These fuckers come out of the woodwork like hell-roaches,” the demon growled, not used to the weird body he was inhabiting.

“Yes,” I replied, turning a cold glare toward her. I dropped a chair from my Inventory and kicked it their way. “She can sit. If she tries to run, break her legs.”

“Yes, Boss.”

I uncovered Quinn, and he was looking worse for wear. Bloody and pale. He wasn’t overselling it when he said his leg was fucked. With his arm now free, he withdrew a healing potion, shaking as he brought it up to his lips.

“Ren, help Quinn out.” More of an order than I intended, but she gave me a firm nod and stepped up out of the loose pile of wood to move closer and assist him.

I took a few steps over to the seated woman. Maintaining eye contact, I made a show of taking Jokkar’s mace out of my Inventory and handed it over to Roger.

“Normally we do a little good-cop, bad-cop thing,” I explained, my tone low and flat. “However, we’re all rather injured and tired…”

“There are worse things than a bad-cop,” she said, able to see where I was heading with this.

“Clever. It’s refreshing, albeit disappointing, to meet one of her minions that still has half a brain. You have a name?”

“Tanya.” Her eyes looked to the floor as the reality of her situation sunk in. “She certainly undersold your abilities.”

I stretched out my shoulders. Plenty of ache in them after the brief combat and residual pain from being buried beneath the house. “Rolo let her know we were here, however?”

She nodded. “He was hoping to stoke the bad blood between yourselves and Fiona.”

Would have been a shame for me to have had to kill the fighter, eventually. Wouldn’t have taken much to stoke those flames, I was sure.

I turned my head to watch the groaning fixer exit his tomb, aided by the elf and her heavy scowl. Still had use of his leg, but it looked tender. Both of them were bruised, with various bloodied cuts across their body, alongside an unhealthy amount of dust and wood fragments.

“You didn’t have to take her blood to join?”

Tanya shook her head. “My class ability makes me immune to it. It was join or die, either way.”

“Lots of death in this world, isn’t there?” I sat down on my own withdrawn chair, the exhaustion catching up to me in waves.

She glanced up at my pact demon, as he stood with the large mace ready to pulp her if I gave the word. “If only you had been here sooner, you might have been able to save my life.”

I’d have to give this to her - she had a way with words. Perhaps it was because most of the Crimson Shadows had been unrepentant bastards, but her self awareness was a novelty, if not conflicting.

Behind me, Ren stepped up and gripped at my shoulders to work in a slow massage. Part of me died right there, completely at her mercy. Divine.

“Why’d she keep you around if she couldn’t control you?” Ren asked, still turning me into demonic putty.

“Somebody needs to boss around those on the lower rungs.” She shrugged, maintaining eye-contact with the elf. “Perhaps death would be a mercy to me, after I’ve had to shepherd around these imbeciles.”

“Your flock looks fucked,” Roger added. “Shitty shepherd.”

Tanya didn’t respond to my demon, but some of the light left her face. She had a strong will. I could see that. A character of gray where we tried to keep things black and white. The paladin on the bridge had been an easier answer, as she was barely ankle deep in the Crimson…

This Shadow had dirtied hands. It was perhaps a mercy that I couldn’t currently summon cards.

“You have us at a disadvantage,” I admitted. “It is a rarity we get to have a reasonable conversation with someone who wants us dead.”

She nodded slowly. “I accept I am on borrowed time. Please allow me one thing before you decide to kill me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Let me tell you everything I know about the Lady, so you can stop her.”