Succubus 5 (Hardcore Dungeon Core): A LitRPG Series

by A. J. Markam

“You always HATED when I did the right thing!”

  - Yes, but no matter how annoying it was at the time, it was always the right thing to do. If you hadn’t gone after Dorp to apologize, I don’t think we could have beaten Orlo and Shyvock.

  “So you’re saying I should free her because we’ll get some future benefit out of it,” I said sarcastically. “Yeah, that’s not a self-serving argument at all.”

  - Even if we don’t get ANY future benefit out of it, freeing her is still the right thing to do.

  “Where the hell did all this come from?!” I fumed.

  - I don’t know… maybe part of it is, after she saved me, I can’t bear to see her put back in chains.

  “So I’m the asshole, huh?” I snarled.

  - No – I know you enslaved her because you thought she intentionally killed me. But that’s not the only reason I brought it up. I can’t explain it, exactly… except that I can FEEL you now. I can’t see you, but I can feel the goodness in you… and I can feel the darkness, too. And the darkness is the part that wants to keep Soraiya in chains.

  “The OLD you would’ve been fine with the darkness! The old you would have WANTED to keep her in chains!”

  - Just to be clear, I’m fine if the bitch stays enslaved for all of eternity… but not by you. I know you, and I know that if you keep her enslaved, it’s going to chip away at who you really are. It’s going to slowly eat away at your soul.

  “This is some real high-and-mighty talk from somebody who wants to go around killing a bunch of her ex-masters,” I sneered.

  - My ex-masters abused me horribly, she said in a quiet voice. Soraiya just failed to put me back in my body. That’s all.

  I immediately felt sick that I’d used Alaria’s past traumas as a cudgel against her, and just to win an argument. “I’m… fuck. I’m sorry I said that.”

  - It’s alright. I understand.

  “How can you understand?” I snapped, irritated again. She sounded too calm, like she was trying to be some New Age touchy-feely guru.

  - I told you – because I can FEEL you. I can feel your emotions. I know you didn’t mean it.

  “It sounds like you’re actually encouraging me to be a goody-goody now. Which is really ironic, considering all the shit you’ve given me over it.”

  - The truth is, as much as I always kidded you about being a goody-goody, it’s one of the things I love about you the most. That, and your kindness, are the two things that make you different from anyone else I’ve ever known.

  Ahhh, shit.

  Now she really wasn’t playing fair.

  - I can feel you wrestling with your conscience right now. I’ve actually been feeling it for hours, just under the surface. And when you go against your conscience, I can FEEL that you’re giving in to the darkness inside you. When you do that – when you give in to it – you’re only hurting yourself. And that’s what I don’t want. I don’t want you to hurt.

  I wanted to shout at her, to blow my top, to tell her she obviously didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about –

  But she did.

  It was actually kind of spooky. I didn’t know if it was this whole ‘touching the crystal’ thing, or just a culmination of all the weeks we’d spent together – but she knew me. And everything she was saying was the truth.

  Unfortunately.

  “You couldn’t have brought this up AFTER she flew us to Vos?” I griped.

  - Part of me thinks I should have. Part of me says I’m stupid for even bringing this up at all. But the part of me that loves you knew I shouldn’t wait.

  God DAMN it.

  ‘The part of me that loves you’…

  I really couldn’t say anything after that.

  I imagined cartoon steam blowing out of my ears as I walked over to Soraiya. The plum-colored succubus glanced over at me with a look of extreme hatred and contempt.

  “What now, Master?” she sneered.

  “I’m going to free you.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “…what?”

  “I’m going to free you, so don’t attack me when I take off your collar.”

  “Just like that?”

  “You didn’t mean to kill Alaria. You did your best. And if I only free people I like, or who don’t piss me off, then I’m not doing it for the right reasons – I’m just doing it to be popular, or feel good, or whatever. But not because it’s the right thing to do. And I’m trying… I want to… do the right thing, no matter how inconvenient or irritating or messy it might be.”

  - I love you, I heard Alaria’s voice in my head.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled under my breath, then said to Soraiya, “Hold on.”

  Just like when I’d freed Stig in Abaddon, all I had to do was touch the collar and will it to unbind. It snapped in two and fell from her neck.

  She stood there in shock, staring at the collar in the grass at her feet.

  “That’s it?” she asked.

  “That’s it.”

  “You don’t want me to say another Oath?”

  “No more oaths. You’re free to go. Thank you for saving Alaria from the volcano… and thank you for saving me when I almost fell off the ledge… and thank you for trying to put her soul back in her body. You did what you said you would, so you’re free. Good luck.”

  And I walked away.

  - I’m proud of you, Alaria said.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.

  I had gone about 20 feet when Soraiya called out, “What’s the catch?”

  “There is no catch,” I called out without looking at her. “You’re free to go.”

  I got another 20 feet away when she called out in annoyance, “FINE.”

  I stopped and turned around. Soraiya looked for all the world like a huffy teenage girl again.

  “‘Fine,’ what?” I asked.

  “Fine, I’ll help you get her soul back in her body,” she said as she walked across the grass towards me.

  “Wait,” I said angrily, “you mean you know a way to do it?”

  “No, dummy – I’ll help you do it whatever way you’re planning to. I know you – you’ve got a plan. I can see the wheels turning behind your eyes.”

  “…oh,” I said, a little ashamed that I’d jumped to the worst possible conclusion. “But you already fulfilled the oath.”

  “I said I would do everything within my power to make sure that Alaria’s soul is returned to her body,” she informed me. “I haven’t done everything in my power, and she’s not back in her body yet.”

  “You actually said that you’d just try, and that it might not work,” I pointed out.

  “Are you trying to convince me to not help you?”

  At the exact same time, Alaria asked, - She’s volunteering to help us – are you SERIOUSLY trying to talk her out of it?

  “I was just saying,” I muttered, then admitted, “Actually, we could use your help. A lot.”

  Soraiya pointed at me. “As soon as we get her back in her body, though, or it becomes clear that that’s no longer possible, I’m gone. Understand?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Uh, basically for you to fly me to the city of Vos.”

  The plum-colored succubus stared at me. “That’s days away from here!”

  I shrugged. “You can back out at any time.”

  Soraiya grumbled, then grudgingly said, “FINE. When do we leave?”

  “Um… actually, give me a minute. I need to do something first.”

  7

  The ‘something’ I needed to do was take care of some unfinished business.

  When Orlo died – even though it was Soraiya and Shyvock who had killed him – I’d received a huge chunk of experience points and immediately hit Level 25.

  Which meant I was due for another demon. I just hadn’t summoned it yet. I’d been kind of busy, what with trying to get Alaria’s soul back in her body and all.

  I took out my grimoire, the book that
allowed me to summon new demons, which I’d gotten in my first ten minutes in the game as a Warlock. I also checked to make sure my Soul Counter was high enough, that I’d killed enough NPCs –

  Yup. I’d wiped out a good number of orcs on the Plains of Mor-El, enough to summon my next potential helper. ‘Potential’ because I was planning to free him and then give him a choice of whether to join us or not.

  No more taking advantage of innocents. No more breaking the rules when it was ‘convenient.’

  As I read the enchanted words on the page and my hands weaved through the air of their own accord, I wondered excitedly what kind of demon it would be.

  A bruiser like Blutus? He’d been an incredible brawler – a real loss when he left.

  Or maybe another demon like Dorp, with the ability to fuck with my enemies’ minds.

  Or maybe I would get some kind of giant monster, big as a war golem!

  So imagine my surprise, when the shadows and purple energy cleared, to find myself looking at a demon even smaller than Stig.

  A gargoyle.

  A small gargoyle, at that.

  It was humanoid in shape, though it was squatting and hunched over like the statues you see on the eaves of old Catholic churches. Its hairless, light-brown skin was pebbled like a football. Two leathery wings lay folded against its back. Glowing yellow eyes peered out from under a Neanderthal brow, which was topped with a couple of tiny nubbins of horns. It had a serious underbite, with its snaggle-toothed lower jaw extending far past its upper lip.

  All in all, it wasn’t much more than a foot tall.

  And it was uuuuuug-ly.

  I tried to hide my disappointment.

  The others didn’t even bother hiding their feelings.

  “Ugh,” Stig sneered as he looked at the creature.

  “Lovely,” Soraiya said sarcastically.

  - Oh Goddess, Alaria sighed inside my head.

  “What?” I asked.

  Soraiya furrowed her brow like I was an idiot. “That,” she said as she pointed at the gargoyle.

  “I was talking to Alaria,” I said.

  “Then ADDRESS her when you start speaking to her. It’s a little hard to keep track when you’re babbling like the village idiot.”

  God, I wished she still had a collar on her so I could tell her to go fuck herself.

  Of course, she’d probably like that…

  I turned away from her, although I did take her suggestion – grudgingly. “Alaria – why’d you say ‘oh Goddess’?”

  - It’s a gargoyle.

  “Yeah, I can see that. What about it?”

  - In Hell, they’re considered nuisances. Ill-tempered, annoying, and uncouth.

  “Wow, that’s pretty bad if other demons look down on them.”

  “Hey,” Stig and Soraiya both snapped at the same time.

  “Sorry. What are their powers?”

  “It depends – ” Soraiya started.

  “Still talking to Alaria.”

  She scowled. “I’m rethinking my decision to stick around.”

  “Just walk over there for a minute,” I said, shooing her and Stig away.

  The gargoyle just sat there, unconcerned, and snorted through its tiny pug nose the way a boxer might expel snot out one nostril.

  “So what are their powers?” I asked Alaria.

  - I don’t know – I’ve always avoided them.

  “Alright,” I sighed, and waved at the gargoyle to catch its attention. “Hi.”

  It looked at me blankly for a couple of seconds… then reached up with its hind foot and scratched rapidly behind its pointed left ear, just like a dog. Skritch-skritch-skritch-skritch.

  “Um… what’s your name?” I asked when it stopped scratching.

  It just stared at me.

  “Do you have a name?”

  “nah,” it grunted.

  At least it talked.

  “So you understand me?”

  “yah.”

  “What do you do?”

  It just yawned wide like a cat, then scratched itself behind the other ear. Skritch-skritch-skritch-skritch.

  “What are your powers?”

  It just looked away from me, bored, and smacked its lips several times.

  I was distinctly underwhelmed. I’d hoped for a real asset, and instead I’d gotten… this.

  Oh well… at least it won’t be a loss when it flies away.

  I reached down for the leather collar circling the gargoyle’s stubby neck.

  “anh!” it grunted, and snapped! its teeth at me like an irritable Shih Tzu.

  A bald Shih Tzu, completely shaved from head to foot.

  “Hey!” I yelled as I jerked back my hand. “I’m trying to free you, dumbass!”

  “eh,” it said in a surly tone of voice, then hunched down and growled as my fingers got progressively closer to its neck.

  It didn’t bite me, though. Thank heaven for small favors.

  I touched its collar and willed it to unbind. It did, and fell in the grass.

  The gargoyle just looked at it with disinterest, like it was staring at asphalt.

  “Well, you’re free to go,” I said. “Or you can stay with me.”

  The gargoyle cocked its head.

  “On the other hand,” I grumbled, “I really don’t need to carry around a demon that can’t even talk or do anything if – ”

  Wylla the fairy chose that unfortunate moment to come flying by.

  “Do you need anything, Mistress?” she asked.

  - No, I d–

  “ANH!” the gargoyle barked as it leapt into the air.

  “AAAAAAAAHHH!” Wylla screamed, and took off in a poof of pixie dust.

  The gargoyle sped after her, its leathery wings flapping like a bat out of hell.

  - Ian, tell that damn thing to leave my fairy alone!

  “HEY – YOU – LEAVE THAT FAIRY ALONE!” I yelled at the gargoyle.

  It ignored me.

  “AAAAAAAAAAHHH!” Wylla screamed as the gargoyle bore down on her.

  Suddenly the creature made a hacking noise and spat a green loogie through the air.

  It missed Wylla, but landed in the grass.

  Where it sizzled like acid.

  TSSSSSSSS.

  The grass melted away like sugar cubes in boiling water.

  “Holy shit,” I murmured. I seemed to have discovered the gargoyle’s power.

  “AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” Wylla screamed as she zipped around, the gargoyle hot on her trail.

  - Ian!

  “Oh yeah – HEY, YOU – GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE!”

  The gargoyle ignored me and kept pursuing the fairy.

  Wylla wasn’t in any terrible danger – she could do neck-snapping, 90-degree turns in the blink of an eye, easily outmaneuvering the gargoyle – but the little bugger wasn’t giving up. And there was the chance it might get lucky with one of those globs of acid.

  Why was it chasing her?

  Was it a ‘cats and dogs’ kind of thing?

  Or was it just –

  “HEY – ARE YOU HUNGRY?” I yelled.

  That got its attention.

  The gargoyle stopped midair and hovered in place as it flapped its leathery wings.

  Meanwhile, Wylla kept flying, her voice decreasing in volume the farther away she got until we couldn’t hear her anymore. “AAAAAAaaaaaaaaa…”

  The gargoyle edged closer to me as I reached in my bag and pulled out some salted meat.

  “You like this?” I asked as I threw the meat towards it.

  The gargoyle snatched it out of the air with a snap! of its jaws.

  “Damn, it’s like a seagull,” I laughed.

  - It probably shits over everything like a seagull, too, Alaria said crossly.

  I threw a couple more pieces of salted meat into the air, pitching them a few feet to the left, then a few feet to the right.

  The gargoyle banked hard and scarfed them down with a snap! snap!

  “Get down here and I�
��ll feed you some more,” I said.

  It immediately plunked down on its haunches in the grass and looked up at me expectantly.

  I threw it another piece of meat, which it snapped up greedily.

  “That thing you did before – you can spit acid?” I asked.

  “yah.”

  I thought for a second, then took a stray copper coin out of my bag. “Can you hit this?” I asked as I flipped it into the air.

  The gargoyle snorted, hocked another loogie, and hit the coin dead-on as it fell towards the ground.

  I walked over and looked at the copper, which was bubbling and corroding in the grass.

  Ho-leeey shit.

  “Can you do anything else?” I asked.

  It nodded. “yah.”

  I pulled out several more coppers and flipped them into the air one by one.

  The gargoyle took off with a flap of its wings.

  It blasted the first coin with a thin stream of liquid like a water pik.

  The second coin it hit with a puff of green gas.

  And the third it caught in its jaws, then landed on the ground.

  I squatted down to look at the coins.

  The one that had been hit with the stream of liquid had a sizzling hole burned into its edge, like someone had notched it with a power saw or something.

  The coin that had been gassed was blistered with bumps, like it had gotten a low-grade dose of acid, but not enough to cut through it.

  And when the gargoyle spat out the third coin, it looked like a Rottweiler had mangled a piece of hard leather.

  Huh.

  Maybe this guy’s not so useless after all.

  I threw it another piece of salted meat, which it grabbed and swallowed without chewing.

  “You’re a hungry little bugger, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “yah.”

  “If I keep feeding you, will you go with us and fight enemies?”

  “yah,” it agreed as it snapped another morsel out of the air.

  By this point, Stig and Soraiya had come back over and were staring at the gargoyle with undisguised disdain.

  “Meet the newest member of the team,” I announced. “Um… what’s your name?”

  The gargoyle just shrugged.

  “Ugly,” Stig said.

  You’re pretty homely when an imp calls you ugly.

  But Stig wasn’t wrong. If anything, he was understating it.

  I chuckled. “More like fugly.”