《Daem's Awakening: The Demon Uprising》


 Prologue

    Cairan dragged his body out of bed and crawled toward the work table. His maid had left the candlelight on as usual, and he felt nothing short of gratefulness now. Unbearable pain had seared into his bones, perspiration on his forehead indicating nothing short of his body¡¯s demise. He held his breath and wiped the tears that almost dripped onto his royal garb. Nightmares appeared too surreal for him just to dismiss them.


    He watched the fluttering silhouettes as he gulped down the last sip of wine. The hazy shadows appeared distinct as the darkness crept, indicating his time was running out. Perhaps, he never had much time since the day his family died.


    Cairan clutched the arm of the chair and stood straight before collapsing back to the ground as the chair whirled. Locking the chair in its place with his shivering hand, he tried again, using the oak table as his prime support. Blood trickled down his forehead onto the table after dyeing his white hair, but he was determined to escape death today. Moonlight dawdled on the world beyond the curtains that hadn¡¯t been touched for years.


    One more time, he thought and licked his blood. He dug his nail deeper into his forehead, and suppressed a gasp as more blood poured on the stained floor before him. He used the blood to draw a circle, a triangle within, and incantations at the center. He had always thought family heirlooms were abhorrent; demons were unholy creatures. Today, he was grateful his predecessors had drilled the summoning incantations deep in his memories. He had forgotten the face of his parents in his past eighty years, but never the incantations.


    The shadows inched closer to him, but he continued his incoherent mutter as he placed his arm over the magic circle. He was scared. Terrified. However, the greed to live was stronger. If he could offer himself to a demon, he could have a life beyond death. He could avenge the murder of his daughter, wife, and himself. Waiting to die on the bed didn¡¯t seem enticing anymore, particularly now that shadows of death loomed over him. Grim Reapers, the folklore called them.


    ¡°Lebravonich, in thee I find peace. In thee, I find solace. Break the chains that bind you, for today is the day you shall cross the gates of hell. In the name of Cairan, thy mage and thy servant for eternity, I summon thee. For I crave the destruction of the world.¡±


    Cairan coughed hoarsely as the bright red flare encased the room, and the gleam of silver scythes reflected the glare. They were here and close. Cairan leaned against the table in fright. The scythes approached him, one at a time, until there was a line of shadows before him. Death was scary, but death before vengeance was petrifying.


    He heard uncanny laughter in the distance, resounding closer with each passing second until the red flare died out, and a man stood before him. The shadows disappeared instantly after flailing for a while, the silver scythes nowhere in sight. Cairan heaved a sigh of relief, but not for long. One of the greatest demons was standing before him, and he had summoned him using his familial name. To his surprise, the demon''s features appeared much younger than he had envisaged but more chilling.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    ¡°That was one hell of a sleep,¡± the man cracked his neck and licked his lips before glancing at Cairan. There was a smirk on his lips, the most dangerous kind. ¡°You summoned me, old man? What year is it? How long have I been sleeping?¡±


    ¡°My Daem,¡± Cairan genuflected, despite his arching forehead and weak knees. The man before him deserved supreme respect, and Cairan¡¯s family had served the Lebravonichs for generations. ¡°This humble servant greets the supreme one.¡±


    When the man didn¡¯t answer, Cairan said uneasily, ¡°It¡¯s the epoch of Grace, year 134, rule of supreme sovereign Geraldalshin III.¡±


    ¡°Human king?¡± The man snickered. There was deep-seated hatred in his voice, and Cairan flinched.


    ¡°Yes, Daem. I was in line for the throne, but the supreme sovereign¨C¡±


    ¡°Stop calling him a supreme sovereign! It irks me,¡± the man said, already half a step closer to chopping Cairan¡¯s head. ¡°I don¡¯t need your history either. What do you want?¡±


    ¡°Revenge, my Daem. Revenge against the sovereign, who didn¡¯t let my kids live even after exiling my family.¡±


    ¡°And you don¡¯t care if I destroy the world?¡±


    Darkness had shrouded the man¡¯s features, but Cairan didn¡¯t miss the horn poking out of the left side of the demon¡¯s head. Single horn was the distinctive mark of the strongest demons in history. The lesser the number of horns, the stronger the demon. Nonetheless, summoning high-ranked demons was excruciating, even among the nobles. The sovereign hadn¡¯t been able to summon any demon with less than three horns, let alone the Lebravonich family. Cairan had met the two conditions for summoning the high-ranked demon. The proper incantation and the abundance of shadows of death.


    ¡°I don¡¯t, my Daem. This life, I have already sacrificed it for you. Use it as you please, for vengeance is my only goal.¡±


    ¡°Very well, my servant. I bestow upon you, Valturath Lebranovich, the name you shall never utter in front of others. Now, I order you to release me from your binding, for I am stronger and free, and strength is something you need for vengeance.¡±


    Cairan didn¡¯t hesitate to draw a new magic circle on the floor. He saw a flicker of surprise on the demon¡¯s face, but Cairan was too occupied with getting the dimensions of the shapes right. He saw the demon draping the sheets over his naked body from the corner of his eyes before starting his incoherent mutter.


    Within seconds, he saw the demon light up in flickering red light, which condensed over his body and seeped inside. Blood trickled down Cairan¡¯s forehead, and he felt his death drawing near.


    ¡°Your memories, Valturath,¡± the man crossed his legs as he sat on the dingy bed. ¡°You will not live past this hour, so I need your memories.¡±


    ¡°Daem, can I see the day you avenge my family?¡± Cairan asked, prostrating before the man as he touched the man¡¯s toe with his bloody fingers.


    ¡°Cairan,¡± the man¡¯s voice changed, and his accent had a touch of modernity to it. ¡°You have done a great favor to Lebravonichs, and we never forget our debts. On the day we claim what is rightfully ours, you shall be greeted with respect. Rest, my friend, for only a few have the privilege to become our friends.¡±


    ¡°This humble servant is eternally grateful to you.¡±


    ¡°Repose and become powerful before I summon you. The Lebrovonichs will welcome you with great joy,¡± the man said and flicked his fingers. Blue flames surrounded Cairan, but he felt invigorated as he burned. His joints healed, and his hair became dark, but he started disappearing.


    ¡°I will wait for your summons, my Daem.¡±

 [1.1] Cathello Empire

    Lucrast stared at the carriage trudging through the streets. The night wasn¡¯t deep, and plenty of commuters were on the roads. Most were from the caravan, trying to find a safe place to sleep before selling their goods at dawn break. Spices being the endangered commodity in the capital, many nobles would pay a hefty price, whether stolen or legitimate.


    He had seen this scene countless times in the memories of the mage, but nothing came close to seeing everything move. The buildings glowered in shades of the flambeau erected outside each facility, but the encroaching darkness had engulfed most of the city. The roads climbed to the palace of the Sovereign in the distance, the silver gleaming arrows at the battlements keeping demonized wings at bay.


    He moved his stiff joints and covered his head with the cowl before strolling the busy streets. The horn on his head had seeped in, and he had worn a worn-out garb that encased most of his body, with threadbare dark trousers that reached his feet. Straw sandals decked his naked feet, stark pain in his head yet to dissipate. He hadn¡¯t quite recovered from the summoning. It would take more than just walking around to completely materialize in the realm, and not having his mage was hurting him in multiple ways. Then again, Cairan had done his job, and he was grateful for it.


    He walked through the streets, searching for an inn to spend the night. He had enough finances to spare as the mage had prepared enough for him. People nudged him aside on his walk and hurled fervent curses to his glare. The world had changed, perhaps too much for his taste, but it would learn to cover before the demons again.


    Inn for a night or two: PELANGE


    The wooden inn signboard appeared before him, and he stared at the name viciously. Humans were using the Daem familial name in a trifling manner. Even though Pelange was an outcast family in the demon realm, this was unbearable.


    Lucrast pushed open the door and entered the rundown establishment. Circular tables loomed in the hall, completely occupied with men and women in traveler¡¯s garb. They carried cloth bags that were piled up beside every table. The clamor of the room sounded alien to him yet familiar at the same time. Conflicting memories could kill him in battles, but he had time to get accustomed to them.


    The innkeeper glanced at him as the bells at the entrance chimed, and so did most of the eyes in the room follow. Lucrast was huge, so he had expected eyes to follow him as long as he remained in the human kingdom. He didn¡¯t mind, though, not until he saw the man beside the innkeeper. The reverence on the face of the man was unmistakable, soon replaced by relief. Lucrast glanced at the metal hoop around his neck.


    Holy Girdles.


    The memories told him the obvious.


    ¡°Room for one,¡± Lucrast placed three bronze coins on the counter before the innkeeper as the lesser Daem moved to serve the fresh guests on the tables.


    ¡°You need food, lad?¡± The owner asked, chewing something in his mouth. His grey teeth had innumerable cracks filled with soot.


    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Lucrast calmed his nerves and tried to speak like a normal traveler. Words sounded alien to his ears, and so did the language. His tone sounded brash and rude despite him trying his best. His haughtiness would land him in trouble should he fess up his inner rage. He was weak, probably the weakest brawler in the inn despite his magic, so he needed to tune in to the ways of humans before recruiting his Daems.


    ¡°The second floor, third room from the right,¡± the innkeeper handed him a key bent unevenly throughout its length. ¡°Ignore the screams you hear, lad. You know how those mercenaries are. Women, demons, all are the same to them.¡±


    Lucrast raised his eye in question when the bells at the entrance chimed, and silhouettes decked in silver armor walked in through the door. Lucrast flinched at the sight of the metal in the faint illumination of the room but maintained a nonchalant expression. He hadn¡¯t recovered enough to stare at silver. The shield in their free hand had the insignia of Sovereign, a raven with angelic wings. Spears poked out through the top of the shield.


    ¡°Knights of Valor,¡± the innkeeper sighed as another silhouette dressed in robes of nobility entered the inn.


    The innkeeper hurried out of his encampment and bowed respectfully to the man at the lead. ¡°Greetings, the high priest. What brings you to my humble abode?¡±


    ¡°One of our summoned demons escaped to this part of the city. This is the only running tavern this late at night, so it must be hiding somewhere here.¡±


    ¡°There are only my demons here, Sire. I bought them legally, and they serve my customers to the best of their abilities.¡±


    ¡°Guards,¡± The high priest flicked his robe and pointed to the occupied tables. ¡°Search every one of them. They must have either a travel pass or the insignia of Sovereign. If they don¡¯t, arrest both the innkeeper and the outlaws. Only honest business can rid this town of outlaws, and I suppose you are one¡­ .¡±


    ¡°Ruland, High Priest,¡± the man prostrated, but Lucrast felt the fear of the man seeping out. Sure enough, he wasn¡¯t an honest businessman.


    Lucrast removed his travel pass, and his eye followed a woman inching closer to the wall in fear. He sighed, pulled a second travel pass from his leather pochette, and threw it into her hands. The Daem looked at him in surprise before acknowledging his presence and settled down at the nearest rundown table.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    The search for the escaped Daem continued, much to the displeasure of the bystanders, but no one opposed the Knights of Valor. At least none were upfront about them. Lucrast had gotten used to the gleam of the silver by the time one of the knights reached him, so he flashed his travel pass and walked to the stairs, ignoring the commotion that followed when a few mercenaries didn¡¯t have an identification.


    The woman followed him with her stolen garbs that didn¡¯t fit her and her bleeding legs. It was a surprise that she could escape the scrutiny of the guards. Lucrast didn¡¯t push her away. A four-horned Daem was equivalent to a thousand five-horned ones, and the others in the inn had at least eight horns. He needed a few companions until he found his brethren.


    Humans hadn¡¯t summoned Lebravonichs since the Epoch of Mercy, the beginning of human dominance, but the other races left much unsaid¡ªparticularly the Immortal Sorcerers of Cain. They were his best bet at finding his brethren or possibly freeing them from eternal sleep.


    Most of the high priests were said to be the descendants of these sorcerers, according to the memories, but Lucrast begged to differ. Every being on this land has an aptitude for magic. But it is often below the threshold, and most of them cannot evoke a single spell throughout their lifetime. Exceptions arise among these, and that¡¯s how high priests are born. The misconstrued common knowledge had forced people to accept high priests as divine beings. Lucrast was least interested in correcting the notion.


    ¡°My Daem,¡± the woman curtsied respectfully. ¡°This servant is eternally grateful for your aid.¡±


    ¡°Refrain from giving out my identity,¡± Lucrast waved at her impatiently and struggled to insert the uneven key into the single keyhole.


    ¡°How shall I address you, My Daem?¡± The woman didn¡¯t raise her head as she softly held Lucrast¡¯s hand and took the key.


    Lucrast released the key and watched her unlock the door blithely. She was used to this world, he thought and pushed the door open. ¡°Lucrast is my name in the realm. Henceforth, you shall treat me as a fellow human, not your master.¡±


    The woman raised her head and slammed the door shut. ¡°Damn! I was getting tired of the ceremonies. Higher Daems or not, everyone should be treated equally!"


    Lucrast started her, flabbergasted, as she pushed him aside and collapsed on the only cot in the room. He cleared his throat and placed his pochette on the nightstand beside the cot. The Daems could see at night without any aid, so he didn¡¯t bother lighting the candle lamp on the stand.


    ¡°So, you got summoned too?¡± The woman crossed her legs on the bed, soiling the sheets with her blood. He wouldn¡¯t sleep for the night, so he didn¡¯t reprimand her.


    Lucrast glanced around the room and settled down on the windowsill. The Knights dragged a few mercenaries, the innkeeper, and his bound demons through the streets. The weak preyed upon the strong. Lucrast knew the universal law, yet he was enraged. Daems were no better than slaves in the kingdom.


    ¡°That¡¯s a daily occurrence,¡± the woman came beside him and peered outside through the oak windows. ¡°We are fodder for humans. Daems have become human playthings since the Lebravonich Empire disappeared from the realm. You wouldn¡¯t believe it, but the Sovereign summoned a two-horned Daem last fortnight. The celebration was nauseating. They slaughtered eighteen five-horned Daems as a sacrifice to their gods. I was on an errand for my previous owner when this heartrending news spread throughout the realm." She paused, studying his face before continuing, "How many horns do you have? Three, two?¡±


    Lucrast didn¡¯t reply; instead stared at the battlement in the distance. The lost empire of Lebravonich lay beyond the gates that safeguarded the capital. He had to leave, and fast. Before, the two-horned slave of their kind sensed his presence. Lucrast could hide his presence as long as he wanted, but he didn¡¯t want to take risks. Today¡¯s summoning would have unmistakably given him away if his whole being had materialized in this realm.


    ¡°How shall I address you?¡±


    ¡°Bulivalct Veluriaro,¡± the woman said her Daem name without hesitation. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Most humans know it already. You can call me Val.¡±


    ¡°Who is your mage?¡± Lucrast asked, pushing her hand away from his chest. ¡°And stop touching me. I warrant respect from you when we are away from public eyes.¡±


    ¡°As you wish,¡± she reluctantly stepped back and settled on the bed. ¡°A high priest who met a sudden death right after summoning me. The other priests didn¡¯t get a chance to bind me.¡±


    ¡°How long till you disappear?¡± Lucrast asked.


    ¡°No idea. Next time someone calls my name, I¡¯m out of here.¡±


    Lucrast pondered for a while and stared at the woman. She hardly reached his chin, and her dingy, tattered clothes exposed the scars on her stomach. The blood on her feet had dried out, but the deep gashes were evident. He doubted she could be useful, but perhaps the information she had would help him in the future. If it didn¡¯t, he could send her back to their realm. What he needed now the most was information about the world beyond the walls. And Cairan¡¯s memories didn¡¯t have it, for he was an exiled prince.


    ¡°Do you want to serve me?¡±


    ¡°In bed?¡± She stood up with a smile and almost jumped on him when Lucrast pressed the weight of his palms on her head. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a meanie. It¡¯s very rare that we lower demons get to taste such good quality meat.¡±


    Lucrast pressed her temple with his free hand and glared at Val. She would be groveling before him if he were the Walklucrast of the past.


    ¡°Do you want to serve me?¡± Lucrast asked again, his voice screeching in the ears of lower Daems. It was painful, he knew, but he needed absolute obedience from those under him.


    Val recoiled a couple of steps and collapsed on the soot covered floor. ¡°This¡­ servant¡­ does.¡± Her playfulness had vanished almost instantly.


    ¡°I bestow upon you, Garuvalc Zearkerich, the name that you shall never utter in front of others. You are free from your bindings as of this day, but you shall serve your best as my retainer.¡±


    She stared at him, horrified and elated at the same time. ¡°A Lebravonich! You fucking prick! Took you long enough to save us!¡±


    Lucrast cleared his throat and pulled her up. The Daem was crying, perhaps tears of joy or of pain at being ordained. He released her as soon as the red miasma that had condensed over her body seeped inside. One horn on her head disappeared, but Val was too occupied in snorting to care. He hadn¡¯t expected the Daem to become stronger. This was his luck, nonetheless. A stronger retainer meant a stronger monarch. And he needed all the strength he could gather at the moment.


    ¡°My Daem,¡± Val genuflected, this time in utter reverence after she wiped her tears. ¡°This servant promises to repay your grace by serving you for eternity.¡±


    ¡°Rise, noble Zearkerich. You would see the worst of hell should you disappoint me.¡±


    ¡°Yes, My Daem,¡± She stood up and stared at him, confused. ¡°What is my name now? Garuvalc¡­ Val? Oh wow! You got a great naming sense, Lucrast.¡±


    Lucrast sighed as he stared at the lesser Daem. Modern Daems were weird.

 [1.2] Cathello Empire

    [1.2] Carthello Empire


    Dawn descended on Catapulta, as the sun''s first rays shone in the wee hours'' dew. The curfew lasted until the gates of the city opened, and the moving carriages were a distinct indication of the resumption of the activities of the capital. Lucrast peered out of the embankments, ignoring the snores of Val, who was sleeping too soundly for a Daem. He didn¡¯t have complaints, for not all Daems stood at the top of the food chain.


    He checked his stash for cash and found three gold coins, eighteen silver, and one hundred bronze. The gold coins would last him for a while, but he couldn¡¯t say the same about the rest.


    The currency of the Carthello Empire was no different from the rest of the realm, according to the memories of the mage. Not that he trusted them completely, but this was the simplest any currency could get. A conversion rate of a hundred for a high-tier coin sounded just right, but carrying those thousand coins in a small pochette didn¡¯t sound enticing. He could have brought more finances from the mage¡¯s residence, but his pride didn¡¯t let him. Worthless it was; he had nothing better than it at the moment.


    He got up from the windowsill and shook the half-naked Daem on the bed. She needed clothes before anything else, he reasoned and threw his dark cape over her. Walking without a cowl would be unbearable despite the fact the horn had receded. There were too many bounty hunters for fugitives.


    The figure beneath the cape wiggled, and Val got up without further ado. Lucrast expected the servants to behave in a certain manner, and he wouldn¡¯t mind if Val didn¡¯t cross the limit. Natural instincts like sleep couldn¡¯t be honed even among higher Daems, so he had waited patiently for Val.


    ¡°We are leaving,¡± he said as soon as she was out of bed, draped in a dark robe. He paused for a while and asked uncertainly, ¡°How old are you?¡±


    The hesitance was due to the memories, but he didn¡¯t quite understand why.


    ¡°Eighty-four winters,¡± she said, wiping the drool from her chin. ¡°I¡¯m young, as you see. Never once have I returned to Daem realm during my stay here. My ownership has been transferred from one mage to another, from brothels to proprietors to farmers to mercenaries, but never once had I slept this well. Freedom feels amazing!¡±


    Too young, Lucrast sighed and ambled out of the room. She was practically a child in Daem age, and the humans had enslaved thousands of kids like her in the name of divine intervention. Anger consumed him, but he knew it wasn¡¯t time yet. There would be a day to pass judgment for all the atrocities of the Sovereign, and he will be the one to exercise it.


    Val tottered out of the room and reached beside him soon. He had healed her legs last night, but she was too oblivious to notice it. He was grateful because his brethren would undoubtedly laugh at him for becoming soft-hearted. He had always been one compared to them, as he didn¡¯t burn villages for fun, nor did he like killing and exercising authority. He was a failure amongst his brethren, despite being the strongest.


    Val prattled throughout their way to the ground floor. Lucrast just nodded in response, keeping his thoughts occupied. The rundown tables of the inn appeared deserted. He had expected this after the commotion; nonetheless, the stark contrast from last night¡¯s ambiance was shocking.


    ¡°I¡¯ll wash my face,¡± she said as she pointed to the large wooden barrel at the corner of the room. The wall beside the barrel had an extension of rocks with a sloped opening that reached the outside. She poured water over her face leisurely, and Lucrast saw the water seep out of the building. He gave one last look at the counter, where he had seen the Daem last night, before stepping out of the inn.


    It was early morning, and the chilly breeze gently brushed against his cheeks. The air inside the inn had been suffocating, and the open windows hadn¡¯t helped him much. He appreciated the freshness of the wind. A vegetable vendor sprawled his goods next to the inn, and a clothes merchant switched the signboard to ¡®open¡¯ right beside the grocer.


    ¡°Where can I get a map?¡±  Lucrast asked as he walked in the direction of the retailer. Even the mage¡¯s memories had no clue about it.


    ¡°The merchant guild will have it,¡± she said as she tugged at the fabric of his tunic. ¡°Are we leaving the city?¡±


    ¡°Soon,¡± Lucrast shooed her hand and handed her a silver coin. ¡°Get some clothes. And don¡¯t sell my cloak. I need it.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a good master?¡± she cheered and rushed to the store after grabbing the money from his hands. A silver coin was too much for her clothes, but she needed some coins in her hands should he abandon her in the next city.


    Lucrast waited patiently, the memories telling him to wander around the town instead of waiting for a noblewoman to finish shopping. He reasoned otherwise, for Val was a Daem, not a woman. And she certainly proved the memories wrong, as she returned almost immediately draped in a blue tunic and black shorts that reached her knees within the cloak. The same cloak as his.


    ¡°I thought you had abandoned me!¡±


    ¡°You can keep the change,¡± Lucrast ignored her rebuttal and grabbed his cloak from her hands. He noticed that she had also bought a small stash. For the money, no doubt, but her prudence pleased him. Clever retainers made the journey more feasible.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The merchant guild was the largest establishment of the Carthello Empire. Lucrast didn¡¯t know much about it since his mage didn¡¯t even seem remotely interested in the organization despite being a prince. It was an independent organization as far as the memories were concerned. The edifice of the guild was no larger than the inn, but the royal insignia on the signboard deserved a second look. The notice board had various requests strapped, and hunting requests for pelts pulled his attention. If he ever ran low on cash, he could always accept the tasks.


    They pushed open the door and walked inside, the chiming bells welcoming them aboard. There were mercenaries in the room, along with others dressed in dingy garbs, trading at various counters. Only the fifth counter was empty, so Val dragged him toward the same, feigning ignorance to the stares they attracted. Sure,  his hooded stature attracted attention too. The damp smell of ale lingered in the room, and the woman behind the counter cut short his thoughts by requesting their travel pass. He leaned considerably to reach her line of sight, so the woman returned him the travel pass quite quickly.


    ¡°How can I help you, lady?¡± The woman didn¡¯t even acknowledge Lucrast¡¯s presence out of fear, so he naturally stepped back and let Val handle the conversation. Having a companion was useful in such situations, for not everyone appreciated a heavily built man. He wondered how these puny humans would react if all his brethren accompanied him to the guild. The thought brought the first smile to his face since his summon, and it felt strangely alien. The memories had changed him, he reasoned. His mage had done more than just summoning.


    Val returned soon, almost mumbling curses out loud. ¡°Those pricks want us to take up quests for a map. Talk about being haughty! Should we just off her and grab the map? I¡¯ve been itching to do some butchery for a long time.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t bother, Val. They aren¡¯t worth your time,¡± Lucrast said. ¡°There are some interesting quests on the board. We can pick the one that will lead us to the next city.¡±


    Val held her chin in thought before glancing at Lucrast suspiciously. ¡°Aren¡¯t you acting too much like a human?¡±


    ¡°Well, my memories are that of a human, so I cannot help it. A natural mask is obviously better if I put on a mask.¡±


    ¡°So, what are we now? Married couple?¡±


    ¡°Siblings. You are a few hundred years too young to become my bride.¡± Lucrast flicked her forehead, much to his surprise. Sure enough, his astonishment reflected on her face, but she tactfully retreated to the notice board.


    Lucrast cursed and subdued the memories of the mage. He could discard them at any time, but they had more use than harm. If he could handle some disgrace, they would become his perfect camouflage in the human settlements. He stared in Val¡¯s direction, who beckoned him to come closer.


    ¡°Which one, Lucrast?"


    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to kill your owners?¡± Lucrast asked the question he had been putting off for a while. They were in an isolated corner, so he wasn¡¯t bothered about others eavesdropping on their conversation. He erected a [Ward], just in case.


    ¡°Well, there is no point in vengeance,¡± Val shrugged. ¡°I kill them, their descendants summon me, and the cycle continues. I¡¯d rather enjoy my freedom as long as it lasts and coax you into letting me eat your meat.¡± She chuckled as Lucrast furrowed his eyebrows and continued, ¡°In short, as you said previously, humans are not worth my time. But, if your goal is to subdue these ravaging beasts, then I would gladly lay down my life for your cause. I suppose that was your mage¡¯s wish. Some kind of vengeance.¡±


    ¡°Pretty much. He was the rightful heir to the throne.¡±


    ¡°Your mage is Prince Cairan?!¡± He was glad to have erected a [Ward]. ¡°What are the odds?!¡±


    ¡°You know Cairan?¡±


    ¡°Damn, I do! The prince was famous among the summoned Daems during the battle for succession a few tens of winters ago. He had strongly opposed the doctrines of the high priests and had urged the former Sovereign to free the Daems. They had even reached a consensus to send all the Daems back to their realm when the current Sovereign had revolted. The high priests and the Knights of Valor sided with him. The former Sovereign died a painful death, while Prince Cairan was exiled to the borders with his son held in captivity. Later, during the coming of age ceremony of the child, he died suspiciously at the hands of Daems, which only incurred the hatred of the people toward us. You should be able to find these things in your memories.¡±


    ¡°I cannot,¡± Lucrast replied offhandedly. ¡°His personal memories are locked; rather, he hasn¡¯t transferred his personal memoirs to me. It should have taken him a long time to segregate the memories, meaning he had been preparing for a long time.¡±


    ¡°Where is Prince Cairan now?¡± Val asked, taking a seat at the nearby table.


    ¡°He became a Lebranovich,¡± Lucrast replied as he stared at the job posters.


    ¡°Humans can do that?¡± Val sounded astounded, which was beyond his expectation. He thought it was common knowledge among lesser Daems.


    ¡°Special lineage of humans can.¡±


    He grabbed a piece of paper from the board. ¡°Let¡¯s go on this job.¡±


    ¡°Hunting for Esmachian Marrow?¡± Her face turned sour. ¡°Those beats stink terribly and are always found closer to the swamps. Choose something else, My Daem.¡±


    Lucrast stared at the board again, slightly confused. He would have burned the lesser Daem rejecting his opinion in the past, but his mind was strangely calm.


    ¡°What about this?¡± Lucrast asked for her opinion this time, not feeling out of place.


    ¡°That¡¯s a ghost town. If we are heading to the next big city, there''s no point in taking a detour.¡±


    ¡°I say,¡± she jumped down from the table and grabbed a paper, ¡°we take this.¡±


    ¡°Escort for a noble?¡± Lucrast grabbed the paper from her hands. A map was the reward, along with a gold coin, and the job was easy for them. They had a three-horned demon with them, after all.


    ¡°Let¡¯s say we are getting paid for not hurting them,¡± she smiled mischievously, and Lucrast couldn¡¯t help smiling. ¡°We get a map for free and some cash to spare. It¡¯s beneath us to steal cash from our mages.¡±


    Lucrast¡¯s smile froze, and he glared at her while she quickly added. ¡°Obviously not you, My Daem. Your mage ought to pay you for your services.¡±


    He ignored her and glanced at the job schedule. ¡°An hour more. We are lucky.¡±


    ¡°I am always lucky, Lucrast,¡± she laughed and rushed toward the fifth counter with the job description.

 [2.1] Summons Of Salzwort Woods

    Lucrast took refuge in the waiting lounge close to the gates designated for the merchant guild. Val was impatiently pacing outside the edifice, waiting for the nobleman¡¯s wagon. Lucrast wasn¡¯t motivated in the least, so he leisurely studied the other people in the lounge: A kid raking the scab on his wound, the lustful gaze of an old man on the two young mercenaries, two women bickering playfully, and a Daem held in leash by a man.


    The Daem peeked at Lucrast occasionally with a gaze filled with reverence, but he hadn¡¯t spoken a single word. Perhaps, a plea for help would have changed Lucrast¡¯s mind. Not that he would appreciate bloodshed in this modest abode, and as if reading his thoughts, the Daem stayed silent.


    The windows beside the entrance opened into the streets, which provided enough vantage points to see any crossing carriage. He had asked Val to settle down and wait for a decked carriage. The woman had snorted in response, much to his displeasure. The human within him had held back his rage, and he didn¡¯t know how long it would. Eventually, he had to start killing the mages who owned Daems they shouldn¡¯t. This was the only way to release the bound Daems unless the people did willingly, which they would after the death of their kind. Fear and obedience were the same, and the latter without the other was loyalty. He would rather have loyal hounds instead of loyal mages.


    His retainers had to grow in number soon. Even a single three-horned Daem would make a great difference among the ranks of his retainers. He had gotten lucky with Val, except for her personality. Playfulness wasn¡¯t something he appreciated, but indulging her didn¡¯t seem bad, according to his conflicting mind. He adjusted his sword belt that ran across his chest and fastened it on his waist. A brand new cutlass hung loosely, much to his discomfort. Val had repeatedly urged him to buy one, for high priests could easily distinguish demonic magic.


    Val beckoned him to come outside the edifice with an evident smile that attracted the leer of the old man in the room. Lucrast ignored him and all other stares as he bent down considerably at the entrance and walked down the stairs.


    ¡°The carriage,¡± Val pointed at the horses pulling an adorned carriage that held the insignia of the Sovereign. ¡°One gold coin is too less of a price for a carriage of that caliber. We might earn better by killing those ignorant nobles, my Daem.¡±


    Lucrast watched the horses cautiously since animals were often more perceptive than humans. When he was sure that the horse wouldn¡¯t recognize them, he followed Val to greet the coachman, who was glancing around the gates aimlessly.


    A group of men came up to the carriage before them, and the coachman talked with the leader of the four men for a while before pointing to the shabby carriage right beside the majestic one. The men receded in the direction of the carriage. Val ran to the coachman, her new leather boots crunching the uneven rocks on the road. Only the streets closer to the palace were clean and smooth, while the rest of the city couldn¡¯t enjoy the same luxury. If he hadn¡¯t bought her the traveler boots, the Daem¡¯s legs would have torn open by now.


    The coachman stared at her suspiciously before ushering her move away. His expression froze as soon as Lucrast entered his line of sight, and his manner changed instantly.


    ¡°Who the hell is a puny brat here?¡± Val placed her hands on her waist and snickered as she leaned against Lucrast¡¯s abdomen. She couldn¡¯t reach any higher.


    ¡°I apologize for my rudeness, Sire,¡± he said, glancing at Lucrast. ¡°Please don¡¯t mind my impudence. I am just a servant of my lord.¡±


    ¡°Then you should have more mannerisms, Duli,¡± a man came from within the carriage. ¡°Hurry up. We have to reach Zealda by tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± the coachman bowed apologetically and pointed to the shabby carriage. Val gave him a disgusted stare before walking around the adorned carriage.


    ¡°Can it bear your weight, Luc?¡± Val looked at him seriously, ignoring his glare.


    They climbed the carriage and noticed the two men seated against one wall of the carriage. The other two were at the front, serving as the handlers of the two horses. They didn¡¯t have a coachman like the noble, so the merchant guild could only help them so much. The two men eyed them vigilantly, something Lucrast often welcomed. Their eyes paused at Val multiple times, surprised to see a woman on the trip.


    ¡°You folks new?¡± The man with an eye patch asked. It didn¡¯t do a good job of hiding the scar underneath.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Val replied. ¡°Returned from a mission from Zealda last night, and back we go today.¡±


    The carriage rumbled as the men at the front pulled the reins. Their horses followed closely to the adorned carriage as they rushed past the entrance into the vast expanse of the plains beyond.


    ¡°What kind of glamor did you use in the past?¡± Lucrast asked. A ward had served the need again since the bystanders would only hear his deep voice and not the actual words. ¡°Even the priest couldn¡¯t recognize you last night.¡±


    ¡°Most of us use our Daem faces. I used the four-horned bestial looks that got me kicked out of brothels multiple times. No men or women craved me after looking at my mutilated body, so I only earned hard labor. Some nutcrackers have used their Glea faces in the past, and the high priests tossed them around multiple times until they stopped using glamor. It is a hard world. Humans are the most horrible creatures to walk in the Glea realm. They would do anything¨C¡±


    ¡°To preserve their standing?¡± Lucrast interrupted before she gave in to the anger. He was a human once, but he decided not to point that out.


    ¡°Yes,¡± she took a deep breath and leaned against the carriage. ¡°We are disfigured sinners, after all. They need to show people to make them believe. And if all Daem¡¯s started using glamor, how to justify their sins?¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Lucrast couldn¡¯t help acknowledging the foresight of the high priests. Probably his human mind offered a rational judgment. The mage had transferred only good things about his persona to him, so it was unlikely that he could ever understand the greed, conceitedness, and selfishness of the race. He didn¡¯t intend to either because he didn¡¯t have the heart to forgive.


    Lucrast peered at the receding gates one last time. Cairan would be with him next time they returned to Catapulta, and doom would follow their arrival. Before that, he had to stop the raving magic of the realm; for it is only then everyone would learn to fear the Daems. It was also a way to prevent the summoning of his kind. But he didn¡¯t know where to start. His memories of demonization were faint, though distinct enough to know that it was responsible for the spread of magic. He needed a map before making decisions about the rest of his journey.


    The silent ride continued through the vast plains, with trees interrupting much of the bay between the knee-length shrubs. The repeated grazing and the wheels of the carriages had maintained the road, much to the relief of the peddlers and travelers. It twirled through the plains, and woods awaited them in the night. Lucrast had heard the men talking about it amongst themselves, so he didn¡¯t know the validity of the words.


    The carriage stopped for a meal in an isolated traveler¡¯s inn that poked out suspiciously amid the ravaging shrubs. Guards at the entrance were buffed, good enough to down a well-grown Bloach. They almost matched Lucrast in build, albeit shorter, and belonged to the merchant guild; their badges made it obvious.


    ¡°We aren¡¯t eating?¡± Val asked as Lucrast volunteered to guard the carriage. ¡°Why did you tell them we have our own food? Should I eat these copper coins?¡± She pulled her stash from her waist, and her cutlass slithered down the waist belt.


    ¡°We don¡¯t need to eat,¡± Lucrast said as he eyed the fallen cutlass. She snickered and picked up her weapon before placing it back in its place.


    ¡°We eat for fun!¡± Val retorted and leaned against their shabby carriage. The guards eyed them suspiciously for a while before losing interest.


    ¡°Then it¡¯s time you stop having fun,¡± Lucrast said as he peered at the forest a few steps away.


    ¡°You old Daem!¡± she punched him lightly before following his gaze. ¡°That¡¯s Salzwort woods.¡±


    Lucrast was surprised that Val had given up her futile attempts at convincing him. Then again, she must be getting used to his temperament by now. ¡°Once we cross it, we¡¯ll reach Zealda. That¡¯s as far as I have ever traveled in this realm. We need a map to reach any farther. The nobleman¡¯s carriage has two and some good coins. I had a chance to look through the partition.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s our payment,¡± Lucrast pointed out. ¡°You want to steal our own goods?¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound half bad if we could race through the forest before dawn. Even Daems are scared of the bugs in the forest. Late-night Cricks, particularly.¡±


    The journey to the Salzwort woods resumed, and along the way, Val had fallen asleep against his arm. Disgraceful, but Lucrast didn¡¯t stir her awake. The lesser Daems needed sleep, unlike him, though it wasn¡¯t as frequent as Val suggested. Perhaps, her ascension to a higher level had something to do with it. Lucrast decided to think about it later when he noticed the other two men in the carriage had fallen asleep too. None of the two moons loomed in the sky to offer light tonight, so he had an obvious advantage while guarding.


    The carriage before them stirred to a stop, and so did their shabby carriage. Val woke up and glanced around briefly before staring at the adorned carriage.


    ¡°We¡¯ll rest for a while,¡± Duli came by to inform them, and the mercenaries, who had woken up after the brief stir, fell asleep again. The coachman had rotated the shift with his companion, so he was down as soon as the substitute woke up.


    ¡°Anywhere close, child?¡± The man asked Val, steering clear of Lucrast¡¯s glare.


    ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem like it,¡± Val yawned and snuggled closer to his arms. Lucrast pushed her away a couple of times with little success. The man walked out and lit a flambeau at the corners of the carriage before returning to his station behind the horses. Vague night insects scooted away from the heat, cricks occasionally scaring Val as they tried jumping into the carriage with their single legs beneath the grimy body. Lucrast had never expected to see a Daem scared of a crick no larger than her hand.


    The night deepened fast, and Lucrast felt a foreign presence amongst them. It increased with each passing second, and he stared at the adorned carriage.


    ¡°Can you feel it?¡± Val asked, and Lucrast erected a ward to erase their presence.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost here,¡± Lucrast scurried out of the carriage, Val following his suit. ¡°Is that a high priest?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Val said almost instantly. ¡°High priests don¡¯t need to be discreet about the summons. It¡¯s probably a rich idiotic noble trying his hands at magic. I hate to agree, but he summoned a good Daem. At least a three-horned one.¡±


    Lucrast nodded as he saw the glistening red light within the adorned carriage. Though the fire masked most of the light, it was too obvious to ignore. Even the men on their cart woke up in alarm after repeated warnings from their coachman.


    ¡°Should we stop him?¡± Val asked, grabbing Lucrast¡¯s arm. She appeared more scared about the cricks than the Daem.


    Lucrast freed his hand from her grasp. ¡°Why should we? You are a three-horned Daem yourself, so you should be able to handle them easily, should they turn out to be a rogue.¡±


    ¡°Three-horned?¡± Val gave him a confused stare, but the roar of the summoned Daem cut short their casual conversation. The men in the carriage had already armed themselves with swords and cutlasses, and they moved toward the noble¡¯s carriage cautiously. Lucrast held back Val, who was about to follow their lead.


    ¡°They¡¯ll get killed,¡± Lucrast said as he saw the nobleman stepping out of the carriage with blood dripping down his forehead. There was a twisted smile on his face, and he licked the blood that had reached his mouth.


    ¡°I summoned it!¡± He shouted to no one in particular. ¡°I fucking summoned a demon! Come out, you filthy beast! Come out!¡±


    A naked man stepped out of the carriage, heeding the command of the mad nobleman. Lack of glamor made him appear hideous, with a rotting blue body and an oblong face. He lacked an arm, but two arms supplement the right side of the body. A dropping eye at the center of the head scanned his unfamiliar territory until it stopped at Lucrast. Three horns stood tall on his head, which was the only redeeming feature of the grotesque body.


    ¡°Partial materialization,¡± Lucrast said. ¡°He won¡¯t have an arm.¡±


    ¡°Poor fellow,¡± Val said, staring daggers at the nobleman. ¡°Let me kill that mage, My Daem.¡±


    ¡°You will, but not until those men die. The nobleman had brought us here to test his newfound power, so let him get drunk in it. I have never seen a summoned Daem fight, and it¡¯s a good chance to witness some bloodshed.¡±


    Val laughed as she stared in the direction of the Daem. ¡°Spoken like a true Daem.¡±