Demonic Magician

The murmur of voices came from behind me, but they were muted against the melody that had increased in volume now. Close by… no - it was as if it was in my head. A solo rendition of something somber yet beautiful in such a sad way. It drew me toward the running water.

I must get closer to the source.

Perhaps the oddest thing about the way I so eagerly waded down into the stream was that part of me knew exactly what was happening. Not only did this scratch the itch of my folklore background, but there was also a type of demon that shared the same name.

Siren.

Yet even with this knowledge, even knowing the others were calling for me - coming to stop me… I could not resist. The cold water rose up to my chest, causing me to gasp in surprise. And then it was over.

I blinked away some ache from my eyes and took a breath of… air. Darkness surrounded me, but I was not submerged. In fact, with the couple of inches of water rippling away from my boots, this looked just like the weird dreamscape I ‘met’ the Other Max in. Slightly cooler tones to it, and a chill to the air that felt uncomfortable, but close.

A beep from my STAR told me that I wasn’t unconscious or half dead - unless I was imagining this too.

[Tanya: Max? Where are you?]

[Ren: Better not be invisible]

[Wolf: pppp]

Quinn didn’t seem to want to put his thoughts in just yet. As I went to reply, I caught the glimpse of something in the gloom.

It moved as I turned my eyes to it. Appearing again in my peripheral. Two orbs of bright blue - the eyes of my captor.

[Max: Continue without me. I’ll catch you up.]

[Ren: But where are you?]

[Max: I’ll let you know asap.]

[Wolf: oopp]

Better that I face whatever was currently stalking me in this odd plane rather than go back and forth with them. They’d be able to continue the dungeon without me, and hopefully I wouldn’t end up dead here.

“Why have you brought me here?” I asked out loud, not even trying to follow the avoidant gaze.

A whispered voice responded, circling around the area like a whirlpool. “I’m ever so lonely…”

It sounded female, but ethereal. Probably the Siren that drew me here, although I didn’t seem to be under the spell any longer. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

“I thought you might like to put on a show for me…”

I pursed my lips. They really knew how to dig their nails in. Still, I’d much rather be back with the others rather than doing a solo performance. That kind of thing was reserved for Ren only these days.

It would help to know who was asking. “Are you a Player, or just a Monster?”

“Just?” The word repeated and vibrated around the space. “There are things beyond the killers and the pawns, trick-wizard.”

We had been in the dungeon, so there was no chance a Player had snuck up on us and used a weird skill to drag me away to this… hmm. It was like a demonic Domain, but I couldn't sense any demons present. However, Monsters didn’t have much capacity for going off script either - much less make demands of me.

“You were… born in this world, and have more intelligence than most?” I turned, trying to locate the speaker, but the blue eyes remained out of view.

“Clever.” The whispered voice felt closer now. “Ten were given such a life by the creator. Two have perished already.”

My fingers twitched, ready to draw out a card. While they hadn’t been aggressive yet, there was something malicious in their ghostly tone. Or… some kind of curiosity and I was their new plaything. “What are you called?”

“She With A Hundred Fingers. But you may call me Mistress.”

Neither option was palatable. I found myself in an unknown space with an entity who I was yet to fully understand, other than I was potentially at their mercy. Well, that’s probably what they hoped. I ran my tongue across my lips - I could feel the performance coming, and the messages in my STAR beeping were doing nothing but put me on edge.

“I refuse to engage you any further,” I said. “Let me go back to the dungeon.”

There was a brief period of silence, as if my words had struck a nerve - or perhaps I had been wrong about their intelligence and they didn’t know how to address the fact I declined whatever they had going on down here.

“Much too powerful. Full of wretched words and disgusting hubris.” There was a sharper tone to the voice now.

She wasn’t wrong, however.

“Show yourself, Siren,” I said, my stage-voice booming throughout the dim nothingness surround me. “If you truly want a show, you’ll see no better.” On account of being dead. Hopefully she could read between the lines.

“As… you wish.”

A green dawn rose throughout the horizon, and the domed light illuminated my surroundings. It turned out I was not alone in here.

Humanoid figures stood silently, like mannequins. An apt description as they were faceless and androgenous - featureless heads of gray skin stared in my direction. They wore soft white togas and held a variety of obsidian-tipped melee weapons. As I slowly turned my head, there were countless of them.

No, if I were to take a gamble, I’d say there were a hundred of them.

“What will they call you if I kill all hundred of your fingers?” I asked as I flexed my hand out. It would be foolish to think I had a chance. Sitting here with the idol still, just asking to take extra damage from every hit. Truth was… I didn’t have a choice.

Ignoring the Party Chat for now, I took a brief moment to open up my messages with Ren.

[Max: I realize this is a worrying message.]

[Max: But I love you. You are the light of my life.]

No immediate reply. She could be in the middle of combat herself, or unsure of how to respond to me. It wasn’t a problem, really. I didn’t need a response, I just couldn’t leave her with our last interaction being me annoying her.

The whispered voice came back—softer, but it brought a chill that crept along the back of my neck. “If that comes to pass, I will be no more… and you would be more of a monster than me, killer.”

A purple card of demonic energy appeared above my hand, spinning in place. “Then you have set yourself up for disappointment. Admission is steep, but the ticket office is now open.”

Then it began.

One hundred enemies was quite the tall order to serve. Especially when they were all melee. I cleared my mind of every other thought, leaving only killing and surviving. Already, different tricks and potential uses of all my Inventory clutter cycled through my cool head. The nearest figures leaped toward me, eager to be first in line.

Card went straight through the head of the first, my old spear appearing in my left hand to block the second assailant’s attack before the card zipped back and through their neck. Hmm, perhaps I should briefly name them by number?

Three stumbled as my Hellhound+ bit out at their legs. Behind me, I summoned my cannon horizontally to block the advance of those behind me. A little bit of cover that allowed me some stage control.

Card Fan+ went up on my left to block the jab of a spear, as my right controlled the magic card still in play. Four, Five, and Six all received fatal damage as it zipped through. The cannon went off, pelting Seven to Twelve with a burst sack of potatoes that the System had allowed me to stuff in as ammunition in the side window.

Roger rose up from one of the corpses, and after some brief confusion, grabbed Jokkar’s mace and entered the fray. There were enough corpses building up that he could switch out whenever in trouble. Which was quite often given the number of foes.

I dropped my card to bring out a crossbow, firing the bolt instantly. Letting it then fall into the shallow water, I repeated the process with four other crossbows I had ready and loaded. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen was wounded but not dead yet. Metal sparks from my cannon as I turned to the side to avoid an axe - right in the way of the jab of another spear-wielding finger.

Demonic Transposition+ took me out of the way, and into more danger as I became surrounded by the strange gray bodies of my assailants. Cannon blasted confetti throughout the crowd.

No time to enjoy the adoration, but the warm glow it filled me with was appreciated. Dazzle icons were replaced by Stun ones as the group around me were prevented from beating me to a bloody pulp just in time.

A card out. Split. Circling me, empowered with as much as I dare. Like a whirlwind, I cut at necks and featureless faces, drawing blood and causing Eighteen, Nineteen, and Twenty to fall to the floor - a handful of others only wounded before the stun wore off.

Already a fifth of my way through, but I was running out of skills.

While the injured around me fell back for fresh fingers to work their way in, a swirl of fabric obscured me as I twirled two sheets of canvas up and around me like the bulb of a flower. When they fell down, I was no longer there. Invisibility allowing me to push through back to my demonic cannon. While most turned their attention to the way of my demons, some saw the splashing in the water as I made my short trip back to cover.

Oh - but I didn’t want cover. I was the star here.

I reappeared standing atop the siege weapon, a bright grin across my face and two cards in my hand.

“Hope you’re enjoying the show,” I announced as I released them into the air.

From atop my perch, I could see them all. So many impatient, yet having to wait for the early birds to die off. I’d not had such a large audience since arriving in this world, and it was… joyous. It threatened to burst me like a firework. Seeing all the faceless bodies enraptured by me… watching them fall to the floor bleeding because they weren’t worthy.

As I sent my cards out, things seemed to slow down. The mania threatening to overpower me took a backseat, as my brain had time to consider things. Why was I here, and why did it have such similarity to when I had met Other Max? I had allowed any explanation to slip away under the threat of the strange voice of the so-called ‘Mistress’.

In fact, why did all of my opponents here look like they were fingers in white gloves?

My heartbeat thrummed in my chest, realizing there was something bigger going on than just a combat challenge. Ears started aching. Attacks started to falter as confusion welled up inside me. Maybe I just drowned, and this was another last fading memory?

“You seem lost.” The voice returned, despite everything now going in slow motion. It was softer now, and closer again.

“Who are you, really?” I asked, my mouth dry.

“I am the weight of your past, something that still grips at you to this very day.” Now the voice had a familiar sound to it. “Your own personal demon.”

Of course.

It all made sense now. The Monster was using my own mental fortitude against me. Siren song to bring me down and bury me under the guilt of things I thought I had moved past. In a way, they were right. My mother hung heavy on my heart, even if I had accepted the show was my own choice now. I ached at the phrasing the Monster had used. Loneliness and wanting to see me put on a show. If I had clocked it earlier, then my emotions would have made the combat more difficult. Perhaps I was even more dense than I figured.

But…

There was something about the phrase ‘personal demon’ that burned at my insides, past my heartache. A volcano erupting within me. Anger that I hadn’t thought possible that quickly cooled into the biggest rush of dopamine and adrenaline I’d ever experienced. I felt fully awake and everything was vibrant and lively. Apprehension and elation made me feel twenty feet tall - as if I suddenly realized something that put me above all others.

Eyes blazing bright purple and with a wide grin on my face, I held out my shaking hand, playing things by ear.