by Oliver Mayes
“Twenty-one imps, a wraith and two hell hounds bound to the Soul-Well. Three imps, a wraith, two hell hounds and two succubi bound to you.”
Not as bad as Damien had expected, given the state he’d been in when he made those choices. He had a difficult choice to make now, though. He had to decide whether or not to make room for an incubus, without knowing its stats.
“Noigel, what can you tell me about the incubus?”
“It likes walking in the rain, long sunsets and grinding enemies into fine powder, master.”
“A little less snark and a little more information, O forbidden knowledge one.”
“It’s a strength-based summon. Expensive but sturdy. And that part about grinding enemies into powder? That was purely informative, master.”
All right, it was worth a look. Damien checked up on the skill in his menu. He confirmed one part of Noigel’s analysis immediately: it was the most expensive minion he had, costing 10 soul energy to summon and 10 slots to field. His entire Soul Reserve.
The mana cost was prohibitively expensive as well: 1000 mana. It could’ve made Damien wary, but in fact he only became more curious to see. First, he’d have to make room. He took a long, hard look at his summons, trying to decide what he could afford to lose. He wanted the two succubi. This was likely to be a prolonged fight, and one alone might not have enough mana.
He could definitely use the wraiths. That left hell hounds and imps. He already had an unallocated Soul Summon slot from putting points in wisdom yesterday, so he dismissed six imps and a hell hound to free up the required ten slots. Their refunded soul energy was drawn toward him as he emptied his Soul Reserve to summon his newest asset.
The sigil burning into the floor was a pair of huge horns, protruding from either side of a head that looked to be about 60% teeth and 100% malice. The ring of fire was twice the diameter of his other summoning spells. It was necessary. The portal opened in the floor and a huge hand, about the size of Damien’s torso, thumped down on the edge. Damien took a step back as the incubus raised itself out of the pit.
It was… big. Big enough to make Hammertime look like a gnome. If Damien stood in front of it on his tiptoes, he’d just about come up to its midriff. If he stretched his arms out and tried to embrace it, he might just about reach from one side of it to the other. Not that he felt like doing either of those things. A long, powerful tail stretched out behind it, equal parts reptilian and demonic: while it had no scales, there were sharp ridges along the top of it that continued all the way down to the tip.
The incubus looked around and all the other minions retreated a few steps, except for the two succubi. They were smitten.
Noigel’s window of opportunity for extra-curricular activities had passed.
Having cowed the majority of his forces, the demon abruptly looked down at Damien and shot him a hideous grin, the lips curling back further and further until it was all smiles and halitosis. Damien grinned back. This seemed like a very fitting reward for hitting level 30. He inspected it, hoping the stats would be as impressive as its appearance.
Incubus
Stats:
Strength 75 - Agility 10 - Intelligence 5
Constitution 100 - Stamina 75 - Wisdom 5
Abilities: Charge, Enrage.
Look at that. A proper tank. It was about damn time.
“Oh boy, looks like I’ve got competition, huh?”
Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Lillian strolled past him and around the incubus, taking it in. Its head swiveled around to track her motion and a deep rumble echoed from the center of its chest, bothering her not one iota. She courteously stepped over its tail, finished her lap and leaned on Damien’s shoulder.
“What are you going to do with this thing? It’s a big target. I don’t see it lasting long in a full-blown raid.”
Damien saw the size in a different context now. That was a good point. But in addition to the unique role the incubus filled, it had an advantage none of the other minions possessed: Rising Tide didn’t know he had one. He could use that.
“I have some ideas in mind. Come on, let’s go sort this out.”
Damien led the way out of his base, Lillian following swiftly after. He focused on Noigel and the imp swooped through the alcove before landing on his shoulder.
“Noigel, in case you haven’t been paying attention, we’re about to host a big party for Rising Tide. Get all the minions out here and line them up for inspection.”
Lillian snorted into her gauntlet. Damien had shared much with her, but it was only now he realized she’d never heard Noigel speak. The imp might’ve dropped a few intelligence points following the dismissal of six imps, but even if his eloquence had diminished, his pride and quick wit were unaffected.
“Sure thing, master. Does that include the paladin, or can you direct her yourself?”
The snorting was quickly replaced with a sharp intake of breath and a long, surly stare. Damien stared at the floor for a few moments, trying to compose himself.
“She can take care of herself. She’ll take care of you too, if you’re not careful. Get those minions out here.”
Noigel saluted again and flew back into the base. His screaming as he asserted himself over Damien’s horde was loud enough to wake the dead.
It did.
Bartholomew shimmered into view next to Damien, just in time to watch the incubus squeeze its way through the alcove onto the dungeon floor. The rest of the minions followed in its wake, pouring out of his base like blood from an open wound. Bartholomew’s attention was firmly fixed on the incubus at the far end of the line.
“It pains me to admit it, but when you suggested your aim was to kill Aetherius in a week I was… skeptical. Even more so when you declined to invest in the many Maleficium spells my gift bestowed upon you. I am not often pleased to be proven wrong. Well done.”
“Thank you. If it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t all that happy when you forced me to become an occultist. I was much more wrong than you.”
The corners of Bartholomew’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. It was funny to think how much they’d despised each other during his apprenticeship. His character’s level and his reputation with the Occultist faction had both risen phenomenally in a short space of time, and the tone of their conversations had adapted accordingly. A hint of the old Bartholomew came back as he leaned forward to murmur in Damien’s ear.
“While I admire your aptitude, I don’t appreciate my dungeon being designated as a battleground without my permission. Nor do I appreciate being treated as a tool in your plans. It’s just as well we both desire the same thing. Next time, keep me in the loop.”
Bartholomew turned on the spot, floated a few paces away and faded out of existence. If nothing else, he certainly appreciated having the last word. Damien hadn’t factored Bartholomew’s willingness to participate into his plans. Having played a multitude of games unburdened by AI, it was easy to forget how adaptable Saga Online’s non-player characters were. And nosy.
Noigel landed on Damien’s shoulder and coughed pointedly to get his attention. The minions had organized themselves into a long line. Now he could visualize what he was working with.
Damien used up all the resources he had left bit by bit, building armor and weapons for all the minions until most of the metal and all the leather was gone. He debated using what was left to equip his imps with tridents and decided against it, converting the last three blocks of iron into buckshot instead. Then he looked through his item chest to see what else was available. He’d accumulated a lot of useless items from trash mobs on his journey: boar tusks, bone splinters, rock fragments and several hundred petrified twigs from the dryads. Usually they’d be ingredients. Damien had other ideas. He gathered them into his backpack, giving what he couldn’t carry to Lillian, and kept looking.
The only remaining item of note was the Unrelenting Amulet Bartholomew had crafted for him. He took it out and stared at it. He’d disregarded it befo
re, preferring the slight boost to health and stamina BlackKnight’s Persevering Amulet gave him. This seemed like an occasion worthy of thinking a little harder. If Damien could find a use for sticks, stones and bones, surely he could find a decent use for this.
He went into his spell list, checking the artifact against every spell in turn. He lingered the longest on those with no cooldown and long casting times. It would’ve been fantastic with Chaotic Bolt or Corruption if he’d built his character the way Bartholomew had suggested. It was useless with Implosion and Demon Gate. The only spells left were his summoning spells. They fit the bill, in theory: they all had long casting times and no cooldown. The problem was they had a different limitation: the soul cost. With his Soul Reserve capped at 10, he’d only be able to summon 10 souls' worth of minions. Unless he managed to stand near a big pile of Soul Energy before he used it….
If he could kill enough Rising Tide members in one go, the amulet might just come in handy after all. He could engineer the circumstances required to make it shine, then resummon his entire Soul Summon Limit in one go! Well, not quite.
The special ability would only reduce the casting time of the first spell he used after activation. So, he’d have to fill his Soul Summon Limit with the same minion rather than creating a balanced army. While it would require a complicated set-up, the potential benefit was too great to be ignored. He equipped it and tucked the chain under his robes where it couldn’t be seen.
Finally, the preparations were complete. Damien took his forces and distributed them around Bartholomew’s dungeon. Then he strategically placed the detritus from his bag where he felt it would have the desired effect. They were all set. All that was left now was to trigger the trap. Lillian stood by, fidgeting with her hands, as Damien drafted a message.
Daemien: Hello, everyone. Today is the day of the occultist. Please watch the video if you want to learn how to make an occultist hero for yourself! Only level 1 heroes who haven’t picked a class yet, please. Have a great weekend!
He sent it to Lillian’s chat box and she looked it over.
“Nice touch with the requirements list. We should still be careful of other people visiting, but if we can’t handle them we’ll never deal with Rising Tide. Where are you putting it?”
“I’ve got that recording we didn’t use from just after Aetherius kicked me in here, right before I met Bartholomew. We’ve already edited out the CU call at the end; I’ll post it as it is. I was still learning the class, so it’s pretty self-explanatory… if not a little embarrassing.”
Lillian nodded and Damien uploaded the first recording he’d ever made onto his profile, entitled ‘Thanks for the Boost’. In about five minutes the first people watching would know how it was done. After that, it showed his torturous learning experiences with the rats.
While he wasn’t as keen on that part, he’d managed, so no big deal. Then it showed Bartholomew conceding to him building his base there, following his pledge to kill Aetherius in a week. That would come very close to the end.
He posted it and put it at the top of his profile. Lillian was still watching it herself, leaving Damien to link it on his other videos, when the views started to climb. In ten minutes the footage gained 1000 views. In fifteen minutes, it had 10,000. Twenty minutes later, it was well and truly out of control.
The video already had more views than his profile had votes, and his votes were rising as well. It seemed everyone online had stopped what they were doing to watch him fight rats.
Damien closed his browser page and ran up the spiral, rechecking his troop positions. They were all exactly where he’d left them. Five minutes after that, he did another sweep. He couldn’t sit still. The wait was agonizing. He was in the middle of performing his third sweep when his chat box blipped. It was Lillian.
‘Bartholomew wants you, come quick.’
Damien moved to the edge of the platform and looked down at the imp in the center of the floor. He Demon Gated to it and moved toward his two allies. Lillian had closed her menu and had her hammer at the ready. Bartholomew was stood next to her, staring up at the entrance with his hands clasped behind his back. He spoke to Damien without looking away.
“We have visitors. A large number of heroes are entering my domain.”
“What’s a large number?”
“Fifty… sixty… seventy… seventy-seven people. Aetherius is among them.”
It had worked. Aetherius had taken the bait. Everything he’d been through, everything he’d suffered, had come to this.
34
The Six Platforms of Hell
The decisive battle against Rising Tide had come to them.
Damien looked to his comrades; a tenacious, temperamental paragon of a paladin and a snooty, sadistic vampire. It had been a strange week.
“Stay safe, you two. Lillian, you know what to do.”
Lillian turned to him, her shoulders set. She was in gaming mode. All traces of nervousness had disappeared. In fact, she was smiling.
“Your votes are rising fast. If we beat him here, we’ve won.”
Damien turned and Demon Gated to the fourth platform. He held his nerve as the first imp died, placed halfway to the first platform as an early warning system.
They were coming, and he didn’t want to be a bad host. He ordered a wraith to his side and it was there in seconds, climbing the walls faster than a person could fall to the bottom. He would know.
“Possession.”
He opened the wraith’s eyes and continued upward, circling the walls directly under the narrow walkway to remain in complete darkness. He paused above the second platform, where he had another imp sitting, and waited.
The wraith’s night vision was even better than his own, granting him a clear view of the pathway leading from above. He’d use the opportunity to spy on the army as it approached.
So he was surprised when a dagger appeared in the middle of the imp’s chest and an assassin materialized on the other end of it. The imp faded away, burning to dust, as the assassin crouched and disappeared again. So that’s how they were playing it. Fair enough. Damien would repay them in kind.
He eased the wraith down the wall onto the platform and pushed it forward onto the stairs. Shadow Beast allowed him to remain near invisible in the darkness. A player came into full view ahead of him. It was the stealth ranger he’d run into at the Malignant Crypt.
He silently floated forward until he was directly behind them, more silhouettes appearing as Damien reduced the gap. He counted five, traveling in single file. A little team of covert operatives, all specializing in stealth. Good. They’d have less armor and lower hit points.
Damien was so close to the ranger now he could hear him breathing. All five of them were looking straight ahead as they crept forward, totally unaware they’d been compromised.
He could have decapitated the ranger easily, but that would be noisy. There was a simpler solution. He drew up alongside, observing the ranger’s stern face to make sure he was still focused on the path ahead of him.
And shoved him over the edge.
The ranger, bless his soul, was so focused on being quiet that he didn’t start screaming until he was already falling past the next floor. As one, the players in front darted to the edge to look down. Damien hadn’t inflicted any damage with his little shove. They had no idea it was their own party member who was screaming.
Damien briskly moved forward and shoved the next player in line to join his friend. This one screamed a little sooner. Damien didn't quite make it to the third player before their head twisted to the right, eyes wide.
It was Shankyou. Oh, glorious day!
Damien cocked his left arm and drove the attached blade through Shankyou’s back, punching him between his shoulder blades. Then he pulled him in and drew his right arm across Shankyou’s throat. He didn’t have time to savor the karma before an arrow thunked into the assassin’s chest.
The element of surprise was gone.
D
amien floated sideways over the edge, releasing his human shield to ragdoll into the abyss as the shadowy tendrils of the wraith's tail clung to the walkway and spun him round to put him underneath it, hanging upside down.
From exposed and vulnerable to safe and sound in two seconds flat. This was his house. The Downward Spiral was built for demons to thrive.
Damien shot forward upside down, speeding up the walkway on the underside to repeat the process on the last two players. They had aborted the mission, abandoning stealth to flee to the exit at full speed. Their full speed couldn’t make up for the wraith’s wall-walking.
Damien dropped down the wall onto the walkway and guided the wraith up it like a homing missile, arms outstretched. He caught up with the first and pulled his arms sideways through their retreating back. Another mess for Bartholomew to clean up.
The lone survivor made it to the first platform, where there was too much exposure to light for him to be worth following. He’d get to tell the rest of them what happened without having to message through the chat box.
Damien faced the center of the room and tilted forward, passing through the walkways until he arrived at the bottom floor. Lillian was standing over the ranger’s headless body. Damien wasn’t a forensic scientist, but Lillian’s blood-coated hammer-head offered some clue as to where the player’s head had gone: everywhere.
Damien scraped his arm-blade on the floor, unable to signal to her vocally and not wanting to be mistaken for an enemy. She immediately activated Divine Might and spun toward the noise, hammer raised. The wraith’s skin hissed in the glow and Damien gave her a little wave. The ability was swiftly deactivated.
“This one had the Air Jump trait– he arrived down here with full health. Be careful with your body. If they land near you alive, it’s game over.”
Damien nodded, gave her a thumbs up and started his ascent. He placed the wraith back above the second-highest platform, hanging under the walkway again.
