Minute Mage: A LitRPG Adventure, page 55
"Wait. Koinkar Kingdom? What is that?"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. She really didn’t know the location Arlan Nota was in? And she was trying to make judgment calls on what the best course of action would be? How out-of-touch could she be? "It is the Human-controlled territory in which Arlan Nota is located."
"Hm. And you got them to stop attacking our units?"
"Well, the kingdom-controlled soldiers have stopped, yes. Some adventurers are still causing us problems, but the vast majority of—"
"Adventurers?"
The Devil was having a hard time keeping himself from audibly sighing. "Classed Humans that operate outside of the strict legal system. They usually do odd jobs, or go outside walled areas to cull the nearby monster population in order to increase their strength and keep the area safe. Some of them are still hunting Demon forces, despite the cease-fire."
"So you couldn’t even get the Humans to stop attacking you," she sighed in anger. "Do you understand how much this is costing us?"
The Devil glared at his superior. The absolute fucking moron had no idea how much work he’d been doing. She had no right to spit all over his efforts. He didn’t say anything, though.
"You obviously need to be putting more time into this," she said, absentmindedly picking at her nails. "Arlan Nota has not yet been captured, despite the ample resources you have been provided."
"Superior," the Devil begged, "I’ve been putting all the time I have into the capture of Arlan Nota. It might take a bit longer, then I will show results."
"You should have shown us results within the first minutes of this operation. You have given us nothing but failure time and time again. I maintain that you need to put more effort into this case."
"I don’t have any more time I can commit!" he said, bordering on shouting. "Every waking moment I have, I spend arranging units, writing requests, directing the Infernal Commanders. I can’t do any more."
The Devil’s superior sighed, obviously unimpressed with his pleas. "Then perhaps it is not time that you need, but motivation. How about this: you’re demoted. Starting now. And more demotions will come if you do not catch Arlan Nota within a timely manner."
The Devil leapt from his seat. "Superior, no. Please. I’ll—"
"This is not up for discussion."
He fought to control his breathing. "So, I’m losing a syllable?"
The Devil’s superior tilted her head at him. "Oh. Perhaps you do not understand. You are not being demoted once." She pointed out the door, into the room where the Devil’s subordinates worked. "You are out there now. One of the office drones."
He stumbled back, feeling his chest tighten. "That’s—"
"You are being demoted fourteen times. Your name is no longer Xhag’duulinithar’obabaiidook’naisantipoduun’torobaroxhixhonxhaxintep. Your name is now Xhag’duulinithar’obabaiidook. I will no longer be calling you Xhag’duul, I will be calling you Xhag."
The Devil couldn’t believe the words he was hearing.
"I will find someone to promote and replace you."
"I-is that person going to take over for me on the Arlan Nota case?"
"Oh, absolutely not. You will still be solely in charge of that. If you want your old position back, kill Arlan Nota."
The Devil’s heart was beating so hard, he couldn’t feel anything else. "Please. You can’t do this. I—just give me more time. I promise—"
"We’re done speaking about this, Xhag. I expect you to be fully moved out of your office within the next eight and a half minutes. Goodbye."
The Devil didn’t have a moment to get even one more word in before his superior stepped out of his office, slamming the door shut behind her. Well, not his office—the office. The office that wasn’t his anymore.
The Devil simply stood in the room, staring at the door in shock.
By the time eight and a half minutes had passed, he was still frozen in the exact same spot, staring at the same door when it opened again. A Gargoyle walked in—the Devil’s new boss, apparently. It was one of the office workers that used to be below him.
"Expression of greeting, Xhag," it said in its gravelly voice. This wasn’t right. It didn’t get to call him that. "I heard about your demotion. I got a new name, too—Plindakin’porbindoplandimoni’aasiindorkaanpondindindodondi’paponossin. Twenty-four syllables! Same number as you have—er, used to have. You’ll have my old desk, down in the back. I’m sure you’ll be able to find it."
"Greeting," the Devil muttered. He definitely wasn’t supposed to be speaking to a superior like that, but he couldn’t muster the energy. "Guess I’ll get going."
The Gargoyle looked around itself at the room as the Devil moved to leave. Long-forgotten papers scattered the floor, and droplets of blue blood stained the table from when the Devil would bite his fingers too hard. "Lord below, you really messed this place up, huh? I’ll have to call in a cleaner to fix it up. Uh, Xhag, do you know how to call—"
The Gargoyle was cut off by the Devil leaving the office and closing the door behind himself.
He looked out at the room in front of him, desks for the office drones packed together, each worker surrounded by stacks of papers. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t just sit at a desk and copy low-level documents, or write up supply requests. That was not his place. He couldn’t do it.
No, he was still on the Arlan Nota case. He still had to do that. Not only would he need to work on this monotonous bullshit, he also had to singlehandedly run an invasion in the Overworld. Oh, and manage diplomacy with the Humans. Of fucking course.
He bit down on his index finger, applying pressure until he felt the familiar sensation of blood seeping from his skin onto his tongue. He shook with rage, the calming habit obviously not working in this case. Those damned superiors, they pinned all of this responsibility onto him, totally overworked him, and then got upset when he couldn’t do his job properly.
It wasn’t only the superiors either. Those fucking Humans. Incompetent fucking species. Could they not do anything right? That king’s job was to catch one man. One fucking person, and he couldn’t do it. Apparently, this Arlan Nota was so powerful that he could just slaughter entire squads of soldiers on a whim. And that other squad? Those "elite soldiers?" Nothing. Couldn’t find him.
Who was it that led that squad? That "Camilla" woman? She’d been against working with the Demons to begin with. And now she conveniently happens to lead the only squad that doesn’t find Arlan Nota? The Divinations had pointed to that exact location, and somehow they missed him. No, there was foul play involved, no doubt about it. Whether it was just that woman, or it was the entire squad, they’d betrayed him.
And the king? How’d those Humans have the time to send out multiple squads of soldiers when they’d found him near the city, but not to tell the Demons that they’d found him? No, something wasn’t right with the Humans. It was their fault, not the Devil’s. How could he have ever trusted them to do a satisfactory job?
The Devil thought back to the conversation with his superior. What had she said? She’d said that he needed to change something about his strategy. Thinking about it now, the Devil agreed. There was one weak link here, and it wasn’t in the Underworld.
Gazing across the large room that housed the office drones, the Devil spotted the desk that was now his, shoved between the desks of a couple Ember Mites. He scowled. His new office job could wait. Right now, he needed to have a word with the Humans.
63
WELCOME TO HELL. LEARN YOUR PLACE
A Devil walked through the streets of a loud, bustling city. He was being escorted through, of course, by the same crowd of weapon-wielding Human guards that’d ushered him through before.
This time, though, it made a bit more sense that he’d be assigned such a massive guard. He wasn’t in the weak body he’d been in before. This time, he’d made sure to find a Projector Demon that could more efficiently transfer his power. He technically didn’t have the authority to strong-arm his way into that anymore—many Projector Demons would actually rank above him now—but his demotion was recent enough that word hadn’t been spread around yet. Definitely against the rules, but fuck that. He needed to do something. They’d get over it.
He was much more powerful than he was before, but still not at complete capacity. Where his old vessel had transferred about 4 percent of his power, this one transferred about 40 percent. Still, that would be more than enough for what he wanted to do here. Sure, he wasn’t quite as powerful as he should’ve been, but he wasn’t too worried. Devils were known for their cunning, but they were still incredibly proficient in combat, with unnaturally powerful arms and speedy reflexes—they were put in charge of the other Demons for a reason, after all. And that wasn’t even to mention their magic.
Still, the Devil was frustrated with the treatment he was getting. The Humans were supposed to be allied with the Demons, weren’t they? He should’ve been welcomed into the king’s chamber, not threatened the moment he appeared.
Whatever. Perhaps it was just in the nature of Humans to be afraid.
Truthfully, they could’ve also noticed his demeanor, and that was what put them on guard. The Devil was not in a good mood. These Humans were the reason for his demotion, and he was here to make them aware of his dissatisfaction with their performance. So perhaps the amount of hostility shown to him was completely appropriate—after all, he was showing twice as much back.
Once he and the Humans escorting him reached the pathetic castle that held the sniveling king, the guards stopped, one of them holding a hand out to the Devil. "Wait here while King Koinkar finishes his current meeting. We will notify you when—"
"No. We’re speaking now." The Devil shoved the guard out of the way, making use of his new body. As a Devil, he stood head and shoulders above most of the people around him.
Another guard stepped forward, spear pointed at the Devil. "You may not enter. If you do not stop now, we will be forced to attack."
"If you fucking touch me, the Demons will be forced to resume the assault on your cities. Want to singlehandedly cause the deaths of thousands of innocents? Try me." The Devil threw open the castle doors and stormed inside.
It seemed like the king was in the middle of a meeting with some other nobles. They all sat around a long table, with the king on his throne at the head of it. The nobles were all dressed in fancy clothes, all sorts of vibrant dyes covering them, their hair put up into exotic styles. They looked like they hadn’t suffered a day in their lives.
"I understand casualties were high," one of the nobles was saying, "but I don’t see why we must acquiesce—"
"Koinkar!" the Devil shouted. "You and I need to talk. Right now."
"D-Demon," the king said, struggling to his feet, his frail body barely supporting him. "This is hardly the time! Guards, seize—"
"No, no." The Devil shook his head. "We have some things that need to be discussed immediately."
He looked over and saw that, as they’d been before, the royal guard was standing off to the side of the room. Each of them was wearing their signature silver-and-blue armor, with that damned woman—Camilla—standing at the front. There was no way she didn’t have something to do with Arlan Nota escaping their grasp.
"This is exactly what I’ve been talking about!" The same noble that was speaking before stood up. He had a bushy mustache that wiggled whenever he spoke. "We cannot allow these Demons to bully us into submission!"
"Rangonlin, quiet down!" the king half-croaked, half-shouted. "And would someone kick this Demon out?"
Many other voices rose up as well, nobles yelling at the guards, guards yelling at the Demon, and generally everyone shouting simultaneously.
SLAM!
Everyone fell silent, staring at the Devil. He had just slammed his hand into the table, cracking it beneath his fist.
"You Humans have failed to uphold your end of our deal." His voice echoed across the room. "And you clearly need to be shown your place."
"What are you trying to say?" Koinkar said. "We have used Divination to find your fugitive, and sent out soldiers to try and kill him. Just because they weren’t successful doesn’t mean we didn’t do what you asked."
"If you failed, it means you weren’t trying hard enough." The Devil scowled.
"You were not invited here, Demon!" Camilla finally spoke up. The Devil could tell she’d been wanting to for some time now. "Leave now, and take your threats with you."
"Oh, the gallant woman speaks," the Devil said. "Say, you ran into Arlan Nota yourself, didn’t you? Mind telling me how it was that an entire squad of the kingdom’s elite managed to let a single person escape?"
Camilla glanced at the king, hesitating to respond.
"Go ahead, Camilla," the king said to her. "Explain to the Demon what you told me. Maybe that will calm its anger."
She looked back at the Devil. "When we arrived at the location where the Divinations detected Nota, we couldn’t find him. We searched for some time, but he was nowhere to be found."
"Nowhere to be found, hm?" The Devil walked toward her until he was standing an arm’s length away. "So, the Divination was wrong, then?"
"I do not know that. But we couldn’t find him."
"Hm. So you just couldn’t find him. How unfortunate." He looked back to the king. "Hear that, Koinkar? All’s well, just an honest mistake! Nobody has faced any sort of serious repercussions for this, after all."
"Demon, please," the king said, "if you would just listen—"
"Oh wait!" the Devil interrupted. "It’s not that nobody’s faced any repercussions, it’s that no Humans have faced any repercussions. Us Demons sure have. Would you consider that fair, Koinkar?"
"That is hardly—"
"Would you consider it fair?"
The king just stared at the Devil.
"How about you, Camilla?" The Devil turned to the soldier in front of him. "Would you consider it fair? That I have to suffer for your mistakes?"
"Yes, I absolutely would." She had rage in her forced-calm voice. "You caused the Humans to suffer because you allowed your prisoner to escape, and now the Humans have caused you to suffer in turn."
"Oh," the Devil laughed, "she’s smart! So snappy. Makes me wonder even more how she let a kid escape from her, especially when she’s being backed up by an entire entourage of subordinates just as capable as her."
"And what exactly are you implying with that, Demon?" she spat.
"Demon, please." The king took a shaky step forward, putting one atrophied leg in front of another. "I am sure there is a reasonable explanation for her failure."
"Oh, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation!" The Devil was shaking in anger now. "She let him go! She found him, and could have killed him, but didn’t. The only thing unreasonable about this is that she thought I wouldn’t know."
"Vile fiend!" Camilla shouted at him, putting a hand on the spear on her back. "If you do not cease your baseless accusations and leave immediately, I will be forced to strike you down!"
"Oh, you’ll strike me down? Okay. Let’s fight." The Devil drew his fist back and, before Camilla could react, threw a full-force punch.
You have struck Level 27 Human Spearman for 3.72k damage using your Fist.
You have slain Level 27 Human Spearman.
The mutilated body that was once Camilla flew back, slamming into the back wall with a wet splat. The entire room shook from the impact. Her head was completely separated from her body, and it rolled across the ground, tapping into the Devil’s foot.
The entire room stared in shock.
"Oh, look! You’re dead! You are fucking dead!" the Devil shouted at the corpse. "Great fucking idea you had, huh? Let the fugitive go, save the life of some random person, and you lose your own in return. Real fucking smart! You fucked me over, you fucked yourself over. Nobody wins, moron!" The Devil snapped his head back to the king and shouted at him, "Koinkar! Did you know she let Arlan Nota go?"
He hastily shook his head. "No, no, that would have been entirely against orders. I would—"
The Devil stopped listening and looked back at the three remaining royal guardsmen, who stared at him in fear. "Did any of you know? Were you in on this plot to let him escape?"
They all shook their heads.
"No," one of them with a sword and shield said—Ragavan, Camilla had called him before. "We had no idea that—"
You have struck Level 23 Human Swordsman for 3.19k damage using your Fist.
You have slain Level 23 Human Swordsman.
The Devil withdrew his bloody fist from the corpse of Ragavan. "Did any of you know?! Do not lie to me."
The remaining two stood frozen, looking at him in silence for a moment. They were both wearing full-plate armor that concealed their faces, but the Devil could smell the fear coming from them. One of them had her hand on a massive battleaxe strapped to her back, but she didn’t draw it. She’d die if she did, and the Devil’s expression made sure she knew it. After a moment, the other—a woman with a bow on her back—spoke, bowing her head. "Yes, we knew. We were there when she told us to withdraw and let him go. I tried to convince her not to, but she was in charge. Please forgive us."
The Devil stared at her for a few more seconds, a snarl etched on his face as he considered whether or not to kill these two remaining guards. Eventually, he huffed a breath from his mouth and turned away from them. He’d gotten most of the anger out of his system, at this point.
"Koinkar," he said to the king. "What methods of torture does your kingdom implement?"
The king blinked. "Uh, our main technique to interrogate prisoners is by tearing limbs from the body and then reattaching them using healing magic. But there is also—"
"No, that’s fine. I want you to do that to these two guards for, say, a week. That should be enough to teach them their place without killing them."
The Devil heard a gasp escape the mouth of one of the two remaining royal guards—the battleaxe woman. He wasn’t sure what they were so afraid of. A week of torture was nothing in comparison to losing their lives.
