Chapter 38: Bound

  “Well, shit… that was intense,” Lily mumbled to herself and looked down at her new Demonbounds. What the actual fuck?

  The translation from a game skill into something that actually worked in real life was far more than she had ever expected. She wasn’t sure if this was awesome or a genuine reason to be even more concerned than she already was.

  She rubbed her forehead. Okay, calm down. This is fine. Totally fine. You’ve just created three demonic undead servants in an inn lobby. That’s perfectly normal, right?

  Her pulse was still uneven; the aftermath of heavy mana loss made her limbs feel unsteady. The drain had hit harder than she expected. It wasn’t just the exhaustion; it was the weight of what she had done. The line between power and monstrosity was getting uncomfortably thin, and she wasn’t sure which side she was standing on.

  Her eyes rested on the twisted creatures in front of her. They stood perfectly still, the faint red light in their eye sockets pulsing like embers, waiting for her command. Demonbounds, in Xantia, were a category of undead possessed by actual demons. Their results were always somewhat random, within a twenty percent margin depending on how well the fusion took.

  But since these ones were bound to her, she should be able to see their stats, just like her own, right? She focused on one of them and spoke quietly. “Bounded status.” And indeed, a familiar blue status window flickered to life before her eyes.

  [Status: Demonbound]

  Race: Undead (Possessed)

  Level: 435

  Class: Infernal Vessel

  Core State: Dual-Soul Fusion (Demon <> Undead)

  Soul Integrity: 71%

  Title Effects:

  – [Demonbound]: Grants command over lesser undead and minor demons with lower levels.

  – Host and demon share senses and mana reserves. The host soul remains active and is slowly consumed by the inhabiting demon; during consumption, Soul Integrity decreases.

  – If Soul Integrity drops below 20%, full demonic manifestation begins.

  Lily stared at the window, blinking slowly.

  “Oh,” she muttered. “Aren’t my skills maybe a little too sinister?”

  She didn’t remember ever reading something like that in the game’s skill descriptions. But then again, the devs never had to clarify what happened when a demon possessed a corpse. That sort of thing had been deep lore—something only hardcore lore nerds ever bothered to study. Lily had always been a competitive player, not a scholar. All that mattered was how to use the skill, what it did, and how the positive and negative effects balanced in combat.

  Still, seeing it like this was another thing entirely. She sighed and closed the window. At least she had actual backup now for whatever came next.

  As a Demon Spellblade, or more precisely, a Hellweaver, she didn’t need tanks the same way pure spellcasters did, but having melee units to create openings for greater battle magic was standard practice. She couldn’t be everywhere at once in a larger fight anyway.

  Besides, there was another reason she had chosen to use this spell. Demonbounds weren’t mindless. They were truly intelligent, and far more sapient than ordinary undead. That meant she could assign them tasks that she couldn’t trust to her cultists. Well, not that she could trust her cultists with much beyond the basics anyway. So far, they had proven… unreliable.

  I hope they don’t do something stupid again, Lily thought idly when her mind drifted back to them. She had known them for what, two days? And her expectations were already in the basement. But Igrath will handle it… right? The demon who had attacked her for summoning him—yeah, that one—he would handle things peacefully… right?

  Oh, come on. Just don’t do anything stupid when I’m not there. She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. But whatever. I really don’t have time for babysitting.

  Lily focused back on the three Demonbounds in front of her. Since they were possessed undead, there were true demons bound inside them. And because this wasn’t a game anymore, there was no convenient twenty percent margin deciding how they would turn out. She needed to know who had answered her call. Also, they had already bowed to her and spoken her avatar’s name, so it was at least a little easier to stay in full roleplay mode and simply be the Infernal Princess here.

  She straightened slightly, her voice cold and commanding. “Ashlings! I called you from our realm so you may serve me in the mortal world. Tell me, who among you followed my call?”

  The first one rose. It was the former Inquisitor, his movements rigid.

  “I am Ekkra, my Lady,” he said with a rough voice. “I followed the light of the Demon Moon when it appeared in our realm, and I heard your call.”

  The second to rise was the guard who had the broken sword stuck in his throat.

  “My name is Thirra,” it said, the r’s rolling unnaturally as the voice carried a faint, echoing distortion. “The chance to manifest in the morrrtal rrrealm was too juicy to ignorrr, my Lady.”

  The last one rose and bowed deeply; his tone was more composed.

  “I am Vessikar. I am here to serve the true high-blood of our kin.”

  Lily nodded slowly. “All right, Ekkra, Thirra, and Vessikar. Prepare yourselves. I intend to claim this city as my own, and I’ll need your support to do it.”

  They bowed once more in perfect unison.

  Good, Lily thought. She needed an overly dramatic appearance on her stage for the next act, something to get through this without having to kill everyone in the city just to make them submit. Luckily, since it was clear that a world-class actress had been lost with her, she definitely didn’t have stage fright. No, not at all.

  Lily nodded to herself, then her gaze wandered through the still bloody lobby until it found Tessa. The girl was standing there, completely still, pale as chalk, eyes wide to an almost unnatural degree, and yet somehow calm.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Is she in shock?

  Oh yeah, she was definitely in shock. And the unnatural one here was Lily, for not being completely traumatized herself after everything that had just happened. As someone who came from a mostly peaceful world, she should have been the one breaking down.

  Maybe she had the internet to blame for that. Humanity’s steady moral degeneration had already shown her more than enough examples of how bloody, cruel, and heartless people could be. There had never been any need for real demons in her world when humans already filled that role just fine. Of course, her avatar probably helped too. Seeing everything through the perspective of Lilithia Nocturne, the Demon Princess, changed how her mind processed reality. Cough anger issues cough.

  Still, she felt bad for having completely forgotten about the girl while summoning her Demonbounds inside literal corpses.

  Lily tried to smile at Tessa, only to realize a moment later that she was still wearing her helmet—a skull-shaped infernal helm that was half badass, half traumatizing. Probably not the best look for calming someone down.

  She walked over slowly. The girl didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. That was… not great.

  Maybe she was just paralyzed from fear, especially after seeing the Demonbounds standing there like living nightmares.

  Lily sighed, reached into her inventory, and pulled out a [Greater Healing Potion]. She took Tessa’s cold hand and pressed the glass flask into it. The girl’s fingers twitched, then slowly closed around it with a mechanical motion, her wide eyes lifting to meet Lily’s.

  At least she’s not completely frozen, Lily thought.

  “Drink a few sips to feel better, okay?” Lily said softly. “Wait here until I come back. Then I’ll grant you your favor.”

  She spoke in her normal voice this time, not as Lilithia Nocturne. Somehow, it felt wrong to keep up the act now. But the girl didn’t react, only stood there, holding the potion like a doll that had forgotten what to do with it.

  Lily hesitated for a moment. She should do something, shouldn’t she? But what could she do? Healing magic wasn’t her thing, and she had nothing in her spell list that could fix trauma—only things that would probably make it worse.

  I’ll check on her later, she decided. There’s surely someone in the city who can help. Maybe she just needs a little time to process everything.

  With that thought, Lily turned away and headed toward the door. She stepped out of the inn onto the now awakening street. Behind her, the three Demonbounds followed in silence, their footsteps making faint, wet sounds on the bloodstained floor.

  ???

  It was a typical morning in Tiara. The day was only just beginning, yet the city already pulsed with life. At the gates, a long line of travelers and merchants had gathered, waiting for the guards to begin their morning checks. The smell of baked bread and fresh fruit drifted in from the market as stalls opened one by one. Shopkeepers swept their thresholds, called greetings to familiar faces, and unlocked their display cases.

  Tiara—the Pearl of the North—was alive again.

  It wasn’t as vast as the capital, Burm, but it was large enough to stand proudly on its own. The city hosted every guild that mattered: the Mage Guild, the Alchemy Guild, the Adventurers’ Guild, the Merchant Guild, even the Mercenary Guild. And somewhere in the shadows, the Thieves’ Guild thrived as well. Together, they made Tiara one of the most prosperous trade cities north of the central continent.

  Another factor behind Tiara’s rise was the tall, gleaming Auction Hall near the central square, Tiara’s beating heart. With over fifty auctioneers and three times as many staff, it stood as a symbol of the city’s prosperity. And alongside it, the local branch of the Asara Bank had grown to match. Director Henry Durham had always taken pride in that fact.

  Until yesterday.

  He had believed Tiara’s branch was on the verge of becoming its own main branch—independent from Burm’s oversight, fully self-governed, a symbol of the Bank’s trust in his leadership. For years, everything had gone according to plan. The ledgers balanced, profits grew, the vaults filled. Then yesterday, an elf had walked into his office and demanded access to a five-hundred-year-old guild account.

  This damn Lady Greenwood…

  Durham’s fingers drummed on his desk as he recalled it. The dormant account. The declaration that her guild still existed. Still aligned with a long-dead empire. He could already see how it would unravel; reports to Burm, auditors from the central branches, political inquiries. His career was over before he even had the chance to defend it.

  It was always the same when high-level individuals appeared out of nowhere. They made everything unnecessarily complicated for everyone around them. How could you even trust someone who had been hidden from public life for so long? After all, it was a known fact that most high-level people were prominent enough to make their presence felt. They didn’t linger in the shadows. They were political factors in themselves.

  He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his teeth.

  “At least,” he murmured to himself, “things can’t possibly get worse.”

  Then the shouting started.

  At first, it was faint, market noise, merchants raising their voices earlier than usual. But it grew louder. The sound of surprise gave way to panic.

  Durham frowned and turned toward the wide window overlooking the central market. The usual morning crowd had frozen in place, all faces turned upward.

  He followed their gaze.

  For a heartbeat, his mind refused to make sense of what he was seeing. Then his breath caught. High above the rooftops, wings cut through the morning light. An armored figure soared across the sky, trailing a faint red shimmer like mist burning in sunlight.

  When Durham focused his gaze, his heart almost stopped. As a bank director, he had no trouble recognizing unusual things, and the armor on that flying figure was definitely unusual. It wasn’t just expensive or ornate; it was at least of named-item caliber. And that was bad news. Really bad news. Because Durham connected the dots quickly, to the same conclusion he had reached just yesterday.

  The guild account. The declaration of allegiance. The cultist attack at the auction. It all connected. Yesterday’s visitor hadn’t been some delusional relic-hunter; she was moving fast. If she had truly reactivated Doomsday’s old assets, and if that figure above the city was connected to her, then what he was witnessing now was something far greater. The long-dead guild was back. And the Empire of Xares might not be as dead as history claimed.

  Durham’s fingers clenched around the edge of his desk. “Gods above,” he muttered. “She’s doing it. She’s actually doing it.”

  He turned sharply toward the empty room and spoke under his breath, his voice low but firm. “Lock the bank down. No one leaves, no one enters. How many of you are present at the moment?”

  From the far corner of the room, a ripple of darkness stirred. A figure peeled itself out of the shadow, tall and thin, wrapped in black from head to toe. A white mask covered its face, painted with a red, smiling mouth.

  “Understood,” came a distorted voice. “Only three of us are present, Director. It is a side branch after all.”

  Durham didn’t flinch. “Then three will have to do. Prepare for a vault lockdown. If this goes badly, we’ll need to enact emergency containment.”

  The figure tilted its head slightly. “You expect an incident?”

  Durham’s eyes returned to the window. The figure in the sky was descending slowly now, gliding above the rooftops. Merchants screamed below. Someone dropped a basket. The sound of panic spread like wildfire.

  “I think,” he said quietly, “we’re about to witness the start of a war. Tiara will make history today.”

  For a moment, silence filled the office. Then the masked enforcer nodded once. The red smile painted on his mask seemed almost to twist.

  “Understood. I will enact Protocol C-12 under the Asara Emergency Charter. Lethal force is authorized against any intruder who crosses the threshold.”

  Then the figure vanished back into the shadows, and Durham exhaled slowly. He gave the figure in the sky one last look before pulling down the reinforced shutters over the window, sealing it tight.

  The bank would now enter full lockdown. As an institution that claimed complete neutrality—at least on paper—it would not participate in or support any uprising, riot, or war.

  But the Bank of Asara would protect its own interests. By any means necessary.

  I’ll probably move the Monday chapter to Tuesday, because I have a really long day tomorrow and I want to edit the chapter a little before posting it here. The rest of the week will stay on the usual schedule (Wed, Fri, +?).

  Patreon and read further chapters ahead!

  (And if you’re not enjoying it, I hope you hate it just enough to stay with us so you can comment in a few chapters: “I knew it, I was right, North is doing shit here!”)