by Randi Darren
From what he could tell, they’d witnessed the very first touch of combat from the wagon. The moment when both sides had launched some lean skirmishing blows. Each side had committed only their weakest Essence Sorcerers and combatants.
From what he could see, the field was littered with mortals, Cambion, and Demons. They were all intermixed, fighting with and against one another.
There were no differences between any of them as they all fought in the field. They all bled into the ground in the same way.
Sam also noticed that one side was wearing a uniform, and the other seemed to be a hodge-podge collection of everything. No two people were dressed the same.
Well.
That certainly means one side is the government, isn’t it? That’d be the city lord. Which means I have a chance to earn favors, just as Irma suggested.
Turning his attention to the rearward units of the uniformed soldiers, Sam found what he was looking for. Or at least, what he suspected he was looking for.
A command group of officers and likely the leader of the army.
Arranged behind the mass of soldiers, they were in a clump and watching the battle through telescopic eye-pieces, spells, or just with their eyes. They clustered around a larger Demon who stood at the center with what appeared to be a two-handed sword braced on one shoulder.
Folding in his wings, Sam began to dive toward that group. He was planning on landing perhaps thirty feet in front of them.
Landing any closer than that would likely get him a few spells tossed at him. As it was, it was fairly likely they’d attack him just for landing where he planned.
With little more than a quiet bump, Sam landed gracefully. He folded his arms behind his back and stood up straight. His wings flexed outward for several seconds, then laid across his back.
Taking a step to the side, he angled himself partially away from them. This also happened to be an easy position to step into a defensive stance with a sword if he was attacked.
It was a position he’d learned to cherish. He wasn’t sure how others saw it, but he felt it was rather dignified but also imposing.
“Greetings, city lord,” Sam called a second after he’d landed. “I’ve come to offer my services. For a fee, of course.”
The large Demon in heavy plate armor was already moving towards him. He gave off a feeling of someone who wanted to rush off to join the fight rather than be at the rear of the battle.
“And what is it you’re offering, little Demon?” growled the city lord.
“To dispose of the enemy, of course,” Sam replied in a good natured way. “Providing that you absolve me of any crime I might commit while doing it, protection of my wives for the period of one year, and that I keep any Essence I steal from the enemy.”
Stopping ten feet away, the imposing city lord peered at Sam through his helmet. Then the Demon made a swatting motion with his hand.
“Easy enough to promise,” they grumbled. “That’s all you want? You lay no claim to their general? I want their general for myself. Alive.”
Sam blinked slowly as he considered how to respond.
The request was simple enough and he didn’t see an issue with it.
“Mm. I’d want a few favors from you in the future as well, of course. But I have no idea what they would be yet. Though they wouldn’t be too terrible. Resources, more than likely.
“As to the general… I would only ask why? It would be quite easy for me to eliminate them for you,” said Sam. “Harder to capture them.”
“She had my favorite mistress raped by a great many of her soldiers, then killed. So I’m going to fuck her until I put a kid in her,” spat the Demon. “After she gives birth, I’ll give the baby to my wife, then put another kid in her. Maybe after five or six, what my mistress would have given me, I might kill her.”
Ah… yes. Hell.
Hell is… Hell.
Disgusting and despicable. But that’s why we escaped.
Evil fighting Evil.
Clicking his tongue disdainfully, Sam barely kept himself from rolling his eyes.
“Fine, fine. I can certainly swear to the idea that I personally will not kill the opposing general,” offered Sam. “I’m not responsible for her well-being, however.
“The rest is as stated. I keep the Essence of what I take, you absolve me of crimes, and protection for my wives for one year. Are we in accord?”
Sam pulled his left hand from behind his back and held it up.
Channeling a trickle of Essence into a spell-construct, he called up a two-dimensional version of his brand. It wouldn’t be enough for anyone to gain any insights into it, but it would serve quite well as a binding of a contract.
Enforcing the whole thing with their agreement that’d been spoken, Sam worked to bring it forth. A second later and the binding flared to life above his palm.
The command group, including the city lord, didn’t respond. They were all contemplating Sam’s offer, he imagined.
“I… accept,” said the city lord in a halting tone. Then held his palm out toward Sam’s binding construct.
A thin trickle of weak Essence met the binding as the city lord’s agreement met the contract.
“Agreed, bound, and settled,” Sam said, closing his hand and concluding the contract. “Do forgive me if I leave the contract concluded as it is. I only seal with sex for female clients. I’ll need a tunic or tabard so I don’t stand out.”
The city lord nodded their head slowly. Turning their helmeted head to the person at their side, they held out their hand.
In a matter of seconds, that individual had pulled off their own tunic and given it to the city lord, who in turn gave it to Sam.
“Now, I have some work to do, don’t I?” Sam asked and turned to look toward the battle after pulling the ill-fitting fabric down over his head.
Lifting a finger, he bled some Essence into the material so that it would fit him better.
That done, he turned toward the battle. Sam contemplated how he wanted to do this. If he was looking to maximize his gains from this, he would be best served heading to the right flank of the city lord’s army.
If he engaged in physical combat there, he could drain his enemies of their life force directly. All it would take was a touch.
But will I become the addict that I was previously?
I might… but… Irma is here now. She’ll be able to help me through it.
Not to mention, all the Essence I gain from this I can use to hopefully bring us back to the prime.
Mentally sighing, Sam realized that this had been exactly what she was talking about. He would be who he was and learn to direct himself based on his previous experiences.
With any luck, he wouldn’t become a drain-addict, and they’d be gone from Hell soon enough.
Creating a rapier of Essence, Sam swung his right arm out. The weapon materialized in his hand. He could use it as a way to drain his opponent so long as he was able to stick them with it.
Expanding his wings, Sam launched forward toward the flank with a single pump. Flexing them again as soon as his feet hit the ground, he popped back up into the air.
He was literally bounding across the field with each beat of his wings. Each one bringing him closer and closer to the fight as a whole.
Well. This’ll be interesting. I haven’t taken the field like this in a while.
I didn’t even try to drain that Archangel. I could have curtailed that fight pretty early if I’d been willing to do that.
Then again, nothing good comes of draining an Archangel. I would have been sick for weeks.
I didn’t try on Seville either for that matter. I wonder if that would have even worked on him.
Ah well, laments and regrets for another time.
For now, it’s time to become a Lord of Hell once again.
Sam reached the front lines.
Nine - Not the Same -
In front of Sam was a collection of soldiers in equipment that loo
ked like they were just before the time of pike and shot. Kitted out in arms and armor that one could easily find in documentaries, history books, or museums.
Though it all had a “Hellish” flair to it— spikes, horns, rust, red paint. It had a strange look to it all. Sam assumed it had to do with the fact that there wasn’t much in the way of material in Hell. Everything here would be scrounged from the earth, or likely brought in from other planes.
Moving out past the fighting on the fringes, Sam was immediately intercepted by several soldiers. All of them were wielding short spears with shields.
Sam lifted his left hand and grabbed the two soldiers approaching from his left. Wrapping them up in a spell of force, he locked away their movement.
Lunging forward with his right hand, his sword tip out in front, he caught the third soldier in the arm. No sooner than the Essence-constructed weapon sunk into the soldier’s flesh, Sam acted.
Using his sword as if it were a straw, he began to greedily devour their Life Essence. In less than three seconds of pulling at them with the utmost force, they were drained.
There was nothing left but to take their soul and end their existence completely. It would leave nothing behind at all, as if he were cleaning his plate of every speck. Except that wasn’t what Sam was going to do.
No!
No… never again. That’s where I draw the line.
Just like Irma said. I’m me, but I’m also not me.
He wasn’t quite the same old Sam as he used to be. He’d grown incredibly, just as Irma had said.
Stopping just shy of destroying the soldier’s soul, Sam ceased his attack and then removed the sword.
Slumping to the ground, the soldier was already dead. Their soul would leave the body shortly and move to the actual afterlife.
Filled with the fresh Life Essence of a Cambion, Sam felt much better. It wasn’t anywhere near the strength he would have gotten had he taken the soul along with it—especially since most of the Life Essence came from the soul—but he was satisfied.
If he was able to convert most of the enemies on the field into Life Essence, he imagined he might have a chance of shaving off an entire month or two from the spell that lingered around him. Perhaps even more if he didn’t have to save any Essence in reserve.
Pulling with his left hand, Sam jerked the two soldiers he’d bound forward. With two neat lunges, one after the other, he drained and dropped both of those combatants as well.
One of the reasons Sam had grown in power was that he wasn’t a common Incubus. He was different, though it was by choice.
Where most of his kind lived only for pleasure and what they could get easily, Sam had invested back into himself. He’d taken his Incubus abilities and expanded the control and power of them.
He augmented them in terrifying ways with his Essence sorcery and then practiced upon thousands of Demons. Without guilt or a care for them because Hell was, of course, Hell.
Training what he could do to the point that he could actually drain someone in seconds. Which was unimaginably faster compared to his own kind. A normal Incubus or Succubus could do it in thirty minutes if they tried.
It was the same reason he’d survived on his own plane by himself for so long. Mental control and the willingness to do what he had to do.
Moving forward again, Sam stabbed his blade into another soldier. Then another, and another, and another.
If he pushed any further, or faster, the flank would collapse next and start to get rolled up. Which honestly wasn’t what Sam wanted at the moment.
That wouldn’t actually serve his goals.
He needed to drain a great many more soldiers. To work his way down the line and take out as many as he could.
Rather morbid but… this is a battle and they’re my enemy.
I’m taking their lives, just as if I had a weapon, and sending their souls onward. I’m not… I’m not doing anything terrible here.
This is a war in Hell.
I’m not harming their afterlife, just sending them there. I’m also responsible for a Judge being there to send them on.
This… this is fine.
Sam suddenly felt much more at ease with what he was doing. All he was doing was actively playing the part of a soldier.
Sending his enemies into the afterlife. He certainly was using an unusual means to do it, but it was no different than if he’d cut off their head.
Discarding the tabard he was wearing with a small twitch of Essence sorcery, Sam infiltrated the enemy lines. He passed right through a small group of people after spinning around and putting his back to them.
He moved backward into their number as if he were facing down their same enemies. Just as though he was returning to the line or needed to step out of it.
People made room for him to do so, the enemy’s numbers enveloping him fully.
The soldiers hadn’t been paying attention to what Sam was doing as he dropped their comrades. Being involved in their own skirmishes, they had more pressing concerns at the time.
Elbowing and shoving his way backward, Sam managed to brute force his way through soldiers who didn’t want to be at the front. Making them give way for him.
Popping out the back of the line, Sam looked to the side, or down the battle-line as it were. He could see there were several points where the line was bulging both toward the city lord and also toward his opponent. Ground was being made on both sides.
Sam decided he’d just eat as much as he could, as fast as he could, before he went after larger targets.
Moving along the back of the line, Sam laid his left hand on the backs of soldiers. He would drain them of most of their life force, leaving them with just enough to stay standing, and move on.
The difference in taking their life versus simply knocking them to a nearly unconscious state, was infinitesimal. To Sam, though, that was the difference between creating a visible issue with people falling over, and nothing looking out of the ordinary.
In other words, he imagined he could drain far more soldiers if he left them with enough energy to stay upright. Which, considering he was now working on perhaps the thirtieth soldier, he couldn’t fault his logic.
Grabbing onto the soldier he was targeting, Sam had only taken part of their life force when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. In the same moment, the hand spun him around.
Sam was now face to face with what appeared to be a Demon of higher-than-normal standing. The Essence flowing around them indicated they actually knew how to use it correctly.
It also meant he wouldn’t be able to simply drain this person and leave them on the ground as a husk.
“What are you doing!?” shouted the Demon. They had a masculine voice but Sam couldn’t see any of their features. Not to mention, the armor left everyone looking relatively the same regardless of gender.
Unable to help himself, Sam smirked at the person across from him, then went to skewer them with his weapon. If he could connect with the strike, he’d be able to drain them rather quickly.
A second before his blade pierced the person’s side, they stumbled backward. Tumbling away from Sam and scrambling away on all fours.
Oh. They dodged.
Surprising.
They’re worth a little respect.
Lifting his blade up, Sam held it vertically with the tip pointing to the sky. Tilting his head toward his opponent, he waited for them to stand.
Last time I was in a sword fight, I was running low on power and couldn’t really let myself go. This time… it’s different.
Because I can just go back to draining soldiers afterward.
Once the officer—or so Sam figured since they were in an actual suit of armor that included a colored tabard—had their weapon drawn, he closed in on them.
Bleeding some Essence off, he empowered his body to move faster. Beyond its normal limits, in fact. To the point that his muscles were tearing with the speed he was putting on.
Blurring forward with
what he liked to think of as his flashing lunge, Sam aimed for the officer’s heart.
Their blade came up and barely intercepted Sam’s. Knocking it to the side just enough that the tip scraped along their metal pauldron then away.
Moving with the lunge, Sam shuffle-stepped to the left and whipped his sword down and to the right. The slash caught the upper arm of the officer and neatly sheared off a number of rings from their chain mail.
The metal links clattered and pinged off the rest of the armor as they fell into the grass below. They’d done their job and had redirected his strike, however. Sam hadn’t actually made contact with the officer’s skin.
Rather than let him keep the advantage, the officer used their shield as a weapon. They tried to slam the edge of it against Sam’s leading leg.
If I accept the blow, I can get my sword up and under their armor.
Once that happens, I can drain him.
Not moving his leg, Sam instead tried to reinforce it with Essence. At the same time, he transferred his sword to his left hand. The weapon vanished and reappeared in a fraction of a second.
Striking forward with it, Sam managed to slam it into the officer’s midsection. The blow of the shield on Sam’s leg was enough to shatter the bone despite having reinforced it.
It didn’t matter now though. He’d gotten his “straw” into the officer. Pulling hard through his sword, Essence began to flow rapidly into Sam. Far more than he had been expecting, in truth.
The flavor of the Essence gave him an answer after a second of thought. This happened to be an actual Demon-Knight. They weren’t rare, but they were uncommon as a race.
Sam didn’t stop until there was little more than a few drops of Essence left in the knight. To the point that they collapsed to the ground, their hands coming up to cover the wound in their abdomen.
Groaning, they laid there, nearly unmoving.
“I didn’t hit anything vital,” Sam offered to the Demon-Knight. “You’ll live, providing no one else takes your life.”
Sam made a dismissive hand gesture and glanced at the area surrounding him.
All around him were officers with raised weapons, looking directly at him. They were likely all Demon-Knights as well.
