“Lord Draevan has denied my request?”

  Eri’s tone was baffled. The House Seneschal, Armael, frowned at the boy’s words.

  “Less denied and more ‘highly advised against’,” Armael corrected. “Despite my insistence otherwise, Lord Draevan believes he is not in a position to go against your capricious whims. That being said, he would like me to convey to you the reason as to why your interest in venturing beyond Kaldreach’s wall would be counterproductive to our cooperation.”

  The two of them were alone in Armael’s office. The Seneschal poured a cup of tea for himself and Eri as he explained.

  “As of current, several interested parties are investigating your involvement in Gunther’s demise. Most of them have a personal hand in the bounty’s payout, such as the Church, the local nobility in Kaldreach, and the Imperial agents bound to this side of the Thamlyra continent. Your appearance would greatly complicate matters for Lord Draevan in the collection of the reward.”

  “I thought my presence here was kept secret,” Eri pointed out, sipping his tea.

  “It is. However, as your matron had predicted, word still spread regardless,” Armael shrugged. “Lord Draevan has neither confirmed nor denied the rumours of you being part of his House retinue, and as such, you retain the freedom to leave or remain with the family at the end of the month after you receive your gold. Given the circumstances, it would be greatly appreciated if such rumours were to remain unverified for the length of your stay. It would greatly ease matters for my Lord.”

  Meaning Eri could not join any of the demon-hunting expeditions beyond Kaldreach’s walls. The boy sighed. “I understand. Thank you.”

  “Might I inquire why you would seek to hunt at this time?” the old man politely asked. “I had assumed that, given your recent Core ascension, your Tithe would not be due for another year.”

  “... I was simply restless, that is all,” Eri replied vaguely. “I thought a hunt would help soothe a few worries of mine.”

  “Hm. Youth, I suppose. Well, if all you wish is to kill demons, then I might be able to assist you in that matter.” The Seneschal pulled out a rolled-up map from his table. “What do you know of Port Violet?”

  Eri frowned. “That’s the name of the corrupted port by Lake Violet Maw, right? House Elathion used to own it, until demons overtook the shores a hundred years ago.”

  “You are correct. Port Violet was the crowning jewel of House Elathion’s wealth and power just over a century ago, now reduced to a half-flooded hovel infested with countless aquatic demons. The loss of the port overshadowed every financial setback the House had suffered in its history. Why, the annual revenue of its Caustic Oil sales alone now holds equal to what remains of the family's liquidable assets…”

  “What’s Caustic Oil, exactly?” Eri asked. “I know it's a flammable substance, and that House Elathion used to harvest it from a vast reservoir at the bottom of the lake, but not much more besides that…”

  “There’s not much more to it than that. In its simplest terms, Caustic Oil is a mass of corrupted sediment found at the floorbeds of large bodies of water situated close to a major Hellgate. It is hardly rare; the Slaver Isles in the West sell barrels of them cheaper than they do bottles of drinkable water,” Armael scoffed. “The problem is that it is heavy, making its distribution mostly local, despite its abundance.”

  Seneschal Armael tapped the map. “Port Violet used a series of advanced pumping stations built by the dwarves to tap into the reservoir beneath Lake Violet Maw and distribute it across the district, where the substance is then broken down into base alchemical reagents or shipped raw to the rest of Kaldreach. As you might have guessed from its reputation, its most popular use is as fuel — not for homes or domestic use, but for industry. Heat for the forge and metal factories across Kaldreach. Its temperature burns several times higher than what any coal or charcoal could produce.”

  “Wouldn’t the Church oppose its use, given its corrupted nature?” Eri pointed out.

  “Its demonic properties are mostly benign. So long as one doesn’t swim in it or drink it in abundance, they will see no lasting effects. I daresay you are more likely to drown in the substance first than be corrupted by it. All the same, I would suggest avoidance. The liquid is quite unpleasant in taste and texture.”

  Eri raised an eyebrow. “And you know this, how?”

  Armael coughed. “Old records, mostly. The sailors at the port used to make moonshine out of the oil. Horrid to drink, but it packs a respectable punch. Supposedly. The practice can still be found in the West, around the Slaver Isles… Anyway, we have gotten off topic.”

  The Seneschal pointed towards a gate between the port and Castle Elathion. “Port Violet and its surrounding lands are still considered within Kaldreach’s territory. The entire district is sealed off from the rest of the citadel, of course, but one may find ways into it regardless. The land is also still formally House Elathion, irredeemably infested though it may be. If it's demons you are after… Then you need to go no further than past the east gate of the castle walls.”

  Eri tapped his fingers on the map as he studied it. “There’s no one else in the port?”

  “None save the occasional thief or treasure hunter. Those sought themselves out in time once they realised the rewards are paltry compared to the threat,” Armael grimly smiled. “For the past hundred years, House Elathion has been unable to secure so much as a foothold in the corrupted district. Such is the abundance of demons that had it not been for the sheer architectural strength of Kaldreach’s inner walls, it is possible that the entire east side of the citadel would have fallen from their numbers alone a century ago.”

  Demons usually did not amass in such numbers so quickly or suddenly.

  For that many to emerge at once, there was only one explanation…

  “What rank?” Eri hesitantly asked.

  “Ruby, if you can believe it.”

  The boy flinched. “No wonder no one ever took the port back.”

  A Ruby-rank Hellgate, opening right upon House Elathion’s doorstep.

  What horrendous luck.

  Most people only knew of the six infamous major Hellgates on the continent: the four ancient Cardinal Hellgates that had each once housed a Demon King, and the two newer Central Hellgates that tore the Empire’s heartland asunder a century ago during the Great Collapse.

  However, there were countless other minor hellgates scattered across the empire as well, with dozens being opened and closed each year. The majority of them were mostly Metal-Tier, with Jewelled-Tier Hellgates being exceptionally rare and universally reviled as national disasters that required a revered Saint to deal with.

  “As you already know, one doesn’t simply send a Jewelled-Rank Chosen to deal with a Jewelled-Rank Hellgate. Lord Draeven’s strength is exceptional, but even he cannot tackle an entire Ruby Hellgate alone,” Armael continued. “Our pleas to both the Church and the Empire to send a Saint to destroy the Hellgate proved fruitless, for the threat is already deemed ‘contained’ in their eyes.”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Eri raised an eyebrow. “And you wish for me to go in there?”

  “I wish for nothing. All I’ve done is simply offer you a possible solution to your problems. This Seneschal would never dare suggest such a dangerous course of action,” Armael said shamelessly. “Though I would remark out loud that so long as one stays within the outer perimeters of the port, they should be relatively safe. The demons there are of lower rank, and even should one be overwhelmed by their numbers, they may still safely retreat through the Gates and return under the protection of the castle walls.”

  Well, put it that way… “Can I borrow this map? Oh, and do me a favour: don’t tell Elen. I will be back by sundown.”

  “My lips are sealed.”

  ~~~

  [Side Quest started: ‘Un-Damn the Harbour!’]

  [Retake House Elathion’s Port at the Violet Maw Lake!]

  [Requirement: Defeat the Dunegon Boss and seal the Ruby-rank Hellgate]

  “Calm down, I’m not taking back the port,” Eri murmured to the System. “Just here to loosen up a little.”

  The boy had his Capragore daggers ready as he leapt past the castle’s east gate and fell to the marsh-like ground beneath.

  The district of Port Violet lay half-drowned in its own waters, its wooden buildings splintered and warped where the muddy flood had swallowed them. What once bustled with fishermen and traders was now eerily silent, save for the lapping of thick, stagnant water against dilapidated structures.

  Moss and rot clung to every exposed beam, and enormous half-sunken warships jutted from the shallows like the ribs of a drowned beast. The old warehouses stood crooked and hollow, their doors yawning wide, exhaling the stench of mildew and decay.

  Eri equipped himself well for his venture: thick, waterproof coats and boots, combined with a mask to cover his mouth and nose from the rot in the air. His eyes still sting from the purplish mist, however.

  That was fine. His body would get used to it once the fighting began.

  It was a good opportunity to test his new armour as well.

  /-/

  Skyforged Brigandine

  Heavy Armour (Gold Rarity)

  A coat of midnight blue, reinforced with meteoric plates and combined with fine chain mail to cover the gaps between. Its craftsmanship hails from the now-extinct Gigantomachy, who once armed its lesser infantry auxiliaries with such armour en masse. Though considered mundane under the gaze of the Giants, its quality is regarded as a masterwork among the Newborn species. Both supernaturally sturdy and flexible, this armour grants the resilience of plate while retaining the freedom of lighter mail, making it prized by those who value protection and mobility.

  Effects (Passive): Heavy Armour penalties removed. The armour is regarded as ‘Light Armour’ by those who wear it, even though it still retains its superb defensive capabilities.

  /-/

  The original size of the brigandine was massive, given Gunther’s proportions. However, when Eri had taken out the coat from his Inventory to inspect it, it had automatically shrunk to his dimensions. The armour now fitted perfectly.

  Yet more boons from the System. Eri would not complain, but with how casually it manipulated spatial magic, he would be lying if he said he was not at least a little curious about its origins.

  One problem at a time, he chided himself. I need to focus. Port Violet is a maze.

  The district was massive — easily the size of Footfall. Combined with the lake, the entire area was almost half the size of Kaldreach.

  How many people lived here once? A thousand, ten thousand?

  Surely not fifty thousand? Eri shuddered to think how many died in the chaos when the lake’s Hellgate first spawned.

  The thickened flood bothered him little as he explored deeper into the Port. His Athletics Skill gave him steady footing across the muck, in defiance of physics or logic. The water itself darkened the further he invaded the port, murky and restless.

  Something stirred beneath.

  Shadows twisted in the purple fog where no living creature stood, and in a broken chapel surrounded by mud and shattered stones, gathering whispers slithered through the air like oil.

  The entire settlement was now the lair of demons — an open wound on the body of Kaldreach, doomed to fester for all eternity.

  Eri smiled when he sensed himself surrounded.

  He counted. One, two… Thirteen demons in total came to welcome him.

  The humanoid creature rose from the water with a sloshing hiss, its body half-man, half-fish. Scales the colour of drowned metal gleamed slick across its hunched frame, and its gills flared wetly with every rasping breath. Webbed claws clenched a corroded harpoon, its barbed tip dripping brine and something black.

  Is that… Caustic Oil? Eri raised his daggers as his System gave him a notification.

  /-/

  Drownling

  Lvl 26 Fish Demon

  An unremarkable Copper-Core aquatic Demon. They often hunt in packs and wield discarded fishermen's tools dipped in Caustic Oil. Might be worth setting them on fire for a laugh.

  /-/

  The Drownling snarled, its head a grotesque mockery of deep-sea predators — bulging eyes filmed white, needle teeth jutting past torn lips, and frilled fins fanning like tattered banners along its skull and spine. The group closed in on Eri.

  Eri didn’t bother waiting for them to make the first move. He leapt.

  Steel ripped flesh and cleaved bones. The monsters barely had time to scream, let alone react.

  Three were dead before the first second even passed. By the tenth, all were violently returned to the water, their blood and flesh swallowed by the pungent, muddy grave.

  [Drownlings (x13) Slain!]

  Eri flicked their stain off his dagger. His form was unharmed.

  “Not enough,” he murmured, steadying himself as he heard the wail of a greater beast split through the port.

  Its cries were the clarion call. All at once, the sleepy port came to life as a hundred monsters were roused. Warped, hollow roars rattled through the fog and echoed across the lake. From beneath the black water of those drowned streets, bubbles churned as scaled heads breached the surface, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

  Clawed hands gripped barnacle-crusted pilings. Gills rasped like knives in the air. The collapsed warehouses stirred with the sound of scraping talons and guttural chittering, slithering wet bodies dragging themselves across stone as the resonant chorus of monstrous voices rose and rose.

  Eri did not need to wait long before the first came to meet him.

  /-/

  Tideflayers

  Lvl 46 Eel Demon

  A flexible and enormous Bronze-Core aquatic Demon that packs a poisonous punch. Beware its fangs. And its tail. And its size.

  /-/

  A Tideflayer — a creature of the same Core rank as he, and higher-levelled besides.

  The snake-like creature was over ten metres long and had a maw big enough to swallow him whole. It manoeuvred clumsily on land, but the frenetic thrashing of its bulky length crushed wooden pillars and stone alike as it rushed towards Eri.

  Calmly reaching into his inventory, the boy took out a trio of bulkier daggers and threw them forcefully towards the serpent.

  The Tideflayer barely paused, letting the daggers sink into the side of its thrashing head as it continued its unstoppable rampage.

  A second later, however, there was a hissing noise against its ear. A brief spark, then heat and light.

  The explosive daggers chain-detonated and blew apart the left side of the Tideflayer's head, scattering its black brain all over the nearby buildings.

  The Demon collapsed. Eri leapt over and slashed apart its still-pulsating brain.

  [Tideflayer (x1) Slain!]

  [Level up! You are now Level 45!]

  “I should be insulted,” the boy hummed quietly to himself. “I did not come here to satisfy myself on mindless prey. But then again, none of you exist for satisfaction, don’t you? You are all vacant monsters; I can sense not a single sapient thought among any of you.”

  Hollow, unlearning, eternal Demons.

  That is the image Hell had made of us.

  The shadows grew with greater horrors and beasts, but not once did fear enter Eri’s steady heartbeats.

  “I have so many more things I wish to try. The satisfaction of a hunt against mobs is fleeting, but there’s a thing to be said of ephemeral delights.”

  Eri exhaled gently as he drew a dagger in one hand and grenades in the other.

  “Do your best not to expire too quickly, my distant cousins. The night is yet far, and I do wish to enjoy myself.”