Chapter 8

  ‘You cannot do this!’ Tarashak protested vehemently, pacing up and down from one end of the shuttle wreckage to the other, fuming and panicking at the same time.

  ‘Can,’ Flamey stated, grinning at the demon general, the light of pillar-fires glinting on her black horns, red skin and her sharp teeth.

  Even I had to admit this was ridiculous. Clearly, the little demon was too young to understand what she was doing. Sure, if I became the highest authority of this ring, I could make a dungeon — I figured Button would be able to talk me through the process — and then I could get out of here. But buying her kingdom for five Crunchymel bars? Robbing her of her future? I couldn’t do that to the little girl, could I?

  ‘Are you sure about this, sweetheart? It’s a bit too much, don’t you think?’ I said to her.

  She tilted her head to the side, thinking this through, then said,

  ‘Four bars, then?’

  And of course she misunderstood me — sweet, innocent, somewhat terrifying little Flamey. I wasn’t trying to bargain; I just didn’t want to cheat her out of her inheritance. Was it so hard to understand?

  ‘No, Lord, this cannot happen! You can’t sell the Ring to a human! Or to anyone. What of your dynasty? What of the Ring? What of the rest of us?’ Tarashak wailed, which sounded like an old combustion engine sputtering to start.

  I shook my head, fished out another cigarette from my bag, and lit it. I had to be careful with these, otherwise my twenty-seven packs wouldn’t last long.

  I turned to Tarashak.

  ‘What would happen to her if I took her up on her offer?’ I asked him, puffing some smoke out.

  The archmage general looked horrified, but he answered.

  ‘She would lose her title, and she’d become … just another demon.’

  ‘And then?’ I urged him to continue.

  ‘And then it would be up to her to fend for herself and to find ways to survive and level. She could … settle in one of the cities, find a more powerful demon looking for apprentices, or she could go out to the Wilds to fight and get stronger on her own.’

  ‘Chances of her survival?’ I inquired further, not yet wanting to ask for details of what the “wilds” were or what was going on in cities. That was for later.

  ‘Hm. With the invasion going on? Low.’ Tarashak admitted, the expression on his face betraying his obvious hope that my stupid, human sympathy for the fledgling demon lord would prevent me from taking her offer. And he was right; I wasn’t considering it. I didn’t know why, but I found myself to be rather fond of the little, horned girl, and I didn’t want to steal her kingdom and plunge her into demon poverty. It just wouldn’t be right.

  A message popped up in my field of vision through the NeuroHUD.

  [Burning Darkness wishes to make a suggestion.]

  ‘Yeah? Because it worked out so perfectly last time?’ I sneered.

  ‘Who are you talking to, human?’ Tarashak inquired. I ignored him as another message popped up.

  [Burning Darkness wishes to present a suggestion nonetheless, as he believes a solution to the current situation is evident.]

  ‘Alright,’ I whispered to Button, turning away from the demon general. ‘But do me a favour and just display that horrid paper-knife’s messages word by word. This whole “Burning Darkness explains” stuff is getting tiresome. And perhaps a different colour to the text so I know it’s him. It. Whatever.’

  Button didn’t miss a beat and got right to it, depositing the next message into my field of vision through the NeuroHUD, and with purple letters so I knew it was the sword talking.

  [Hey, my man, listen, no need to get rude and jumpy, everything worked out just fine so far, alright? Now, here’s the deal: take the Ring from Flamey over there. It will be fun. And it will get you what you want. Eventually. Then, if you’re worried about the runt, just adopt her as your heir and start a dynasty, then she’ll have the same title and status as she had before. You might even get some dynastic traits yourself. Easy.]

  [I’m loving the set, by the way. Hope you enjoyed using Hellfire Attributed Hell Mana infused rifle rounds, courtesy of yours truly, and there’s more where that came from. Team Hellfire for the win!!! Oh, and tell Button to stop blocking me all the time, I’ve got a lot to say.]

  I read Burning Darkness’ message, and I was as gobsmacked as one could get. I saw now why Button had been paraphrasing everything instead of quoting the sword verbatim. That aside, there was no way the weapon wasn’t fully sentient, proto-soul or not. Not an “it”. He was a person, I was sure of it. An annoying person, but a person nonetheless. Had he always been a sword? Or had he been something or someone whose soul had been stuck in a sword … somehow? Because magic? Either way, I had to consider his take on the matter. What he suggested — however it would work in practice — would certainly solve the problem of what to do with little Flamey, and would eventually get me a dungeon. Hopefully. But there was one more problem as Tarashak had pointed it out: the who knows how many thousands or millions of demons that called this ring their home. I didn't know the first thing about running the place. How would that even work? Would they even accept it and let me? And wasn’t there a minotaur infestation going on? I didn’t want that responsibility; it would tie me down here for a long time, and it would be a bad look if I bailed right after getting a dungeon.

  Flamey was looking at me expectantly. Tarashak was looking at me with growing unease. They were both expecting me to make the decision the other wouldn’t want. I took another puff of my cigarette, inhaled the smoke deeply then blew it out, trying to calm myself. I knew I was not in a position where I could afford to not make a decision. I couldn’t just do nothing. If I didn’t want to lose all hope and opportunity to contact my people, I had to move forward one way or another.

  I looked at Tarashak, then at Flamey, and said,

  ‘Well, ladies and gentlemen, this is what we’re going to do.’

  ***

  [You have accepted the offer of the current ruling Demon Lord of the Fourth Ring.]

  [The current ruling Demon Lord of the Fourth Ring has relinquished control of the Fourth Ring to you.]

  [Transfer of authority over the Fourth Ring. Complete.]

  [Congratulations! You are now the ruling Hellfire Lord of the Fourth Ring.]

  [Congratulations! You are now the Hellfire Champion of the Fourth Ring.]

  [Due to your unique circumstances and lack of innate demonic intuition and abilities, an interface is being constructed to help you govern your new realm. Please wait.]

  And just like that, I had become the ruling Demon Lord of the Fourth Ring of Hell. Quite the career leap; not that long ago I had been a perpetual sergeant, combat medic, and occasional critic of different sweets and desserts. Now, I had a whole section of Hell all to myself — not the worst purchase I’d ever made I supposed, but definitely one of the cheapest. And I had absolutely no knowledge or information of how big the place was, what the job entailed, how I was going to do it, or if it was possible for me to do it at all. Not to mention the question of how the local populace would react when they found out their new demon lord wasn’t even a demon. Would I last until I got my hands on a dungeon and made it to the surface world? That remained to be seen.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  I looked around me. The shuttle wreckage was still here, Flamey looked warm and happy in her shiny blanket, giving me a smile filled with sharp teeth. Tarashak was on his knees for some reason, his face buried in his hands. He was not a happy bunny, that much was clear. And I was … the same as before. I didn’t feel any different. No power surge, no elation, not any change I could see or feel or sense in any way.

  [Ring Management System creation. Complete.]

  [You now have access to the Ring Management System interface via NeuroHUD. Please consult your Demonic Help Button for further information.]

  Good stuff. I felt tempted to call that interface up and have a look — I was quite curious if it presented options for a dungeon — but I was tired. How long had I been up? I really wanted to lay down and sleep a bit. Unfortunately, there were things to do still.

  ‘Flamey!’ I turned to the girl, now a regular, run-of-the-mill demon citizen of the realm rather than a princess and an heir. That needed to be rectified.

  She stepped closer, her grin impossibly wide, holding one of her hands out to me, wiggling her fingers. I took a Crunchymel bar from my carry bag and gave it to her. She stared at it, then at me, smile vanishing from her face.

  ‘No, I’m not cheating you out of your payment, don’t worry, sweetheart,’ I said to her. ‘I’ll give you the five bars. Just not all at once.’ I sighed. ‘Listen, as I said, you … we got to make sure they last a while, okay? So, you make this one last for two days. After that, I’ll give you another one, then two days later another, and so on. Got it? You’ll get your five, you have my word. This is the … Cruncymel Bar Management System. Okay?’

  She considered this for a few moments, then nodded. Reluctantly. She opened the wrapper, took a single, small bite of the salted caramel chocolate bar, and her smile returned to her face. She chewed on it happily for long moments, savouring and enjoying the taste. Then she folded the open wrapper to protect the remainder of the bar, then, in a small and fast flash of red and black smoke, the Crunchymel bar … vanished. It was gone, disappeared without a trace as if it had never existed.

  ‘What the hell just happened? What did you do?’ I demanded immediately.

  And I had just told her not to waste the precious bars. What gives?

  She just shrugged, looking at me, licking the edges of her lipless mouth to get every bit of the chocolate smears around it.

  ‘Storage,’ she said.

  ‘Storage?’ I asked, dumbfounded. How did that even work?

  ‘Storage,’ she confirmed.

  Right. Storage. Whatever that meant. I supposed she would have been rather distressed if her hard earned, rather expensive Crunchymel bar had actually disappeared. I figured she could probably bring it back the same way she had made it vanish. I’d have to ponder this later; we had stuff to do.

  ‘Button,’ I whispered. ‘How do I adopt the girl as my heir?’

  [The process of adoption, otherwise known as blood-bonding, is a process directly overseen by the genius loci of a ring, and is only available to high-ranking demons such as demon lords or demon champions over level 35.]

  [As the ruling Hellfire Lord and Hellfire Champion of the Fourth Ring, in possession of 37 levels combined between you and your bonded item set, you are eligible to use blood-bonding.]

  [Please select an heir you wish to blood-bond to you!]

  ‘Right. It’s Flamey,’ I whispered back.

  ‘What are you doing, human?’ Tarashak growled at me with undisguised anger. ‘You’re mumbling again.’

  I just waved my hand at him to hush him as the messages continued to come.

  [You have selected as your heir the demon known as Flamey. She is to be the first member of your family other than yourself. As the ruling demon lord of a Ring, you now have the option to establish a dynasy. Do you wish to establish a dynasty?]

  ‘Uhm … yes?’

  [Establishing the Hyde dynasty. Pending. Condition not met: the demon known as Flamey must accept the position of member and heir within the dynasty.]

  [Please offer some of your blood to the demon known as Flamey. The genius loci of the ring will inform the demon known as Flamey of the options available to her.]

  ‘What? My blood? What’s she gonna do with it? Drink it or something?’

  [Yes. Ingesting the dynasty founder’s blood shall bond her to the dynasty, enables determining and assigning dynastic traits, enables determining and assigning titles, and ensures that the ring’s genius loci acknowledges her position. Such position will be hers until she dies, or until she willingly gives her position up.]

  ‘Awww shit!’ I muttered.

  Blood? My blood? Did I have to cut myself then? I looked down at my armour-clad body, Well, I was not going to cut myself on my face or neck — the only parts of me exposed currently — which meant I’d have to get out of my SAC, at least partially, and turn my combat knife against myself. Maybe my hand or my lower arm? Oh, what have I got myself into? Then I looked at Flamey, her eyes closed but her jaw still moving as if she still had some chocolate in her mouth, probably working hard to keep the sweet taste on her tongue for as long as she could. This had to be done.

  A purple text appeared, Burning Darkness just … being himself, I supposed.

  [Well done, my man, well done. Now, let me do the honour! Let me cut you! Let me get some of that blood flowing!]

  ‘Hell no!’ I hissed.

  [Oh, come on, man, I’ll be careful. You won’t even feel a thing! I’m sharp, you know!]

  The sword argued for the honour of drawing my now magnificent, royal blood. Damn! I quickly called up my HMP points.

  HMP (Hell Mana Points): 39

  It was ticking up, almost at 40 already. A minute or two and I’d be able to use Hades Heal again — I was not going to injure myself without the spell ready to heal me.

  ‘Listen, Burning Darkness, I’ll use you to do this,’ I whispered to the sword as I drew him from his sheath on my back. ‘But I swear if you chop my arm off or any other dodgy business, you’re off the team and off the set. Do you understand?’

  [Worry not, my man, I am the perfect blade for the job. You’ll see.]

  I sighed. I was doing this, wasn’t I? I brought up the menu for my SAC’s controls — in the absence of Sys I had to do this manually — and initiated a partial separation of components on my left arm. Couplers disengaged, servos whirred silently and synthfibers detached from the inside surfaces and folded. The armour covering my left lower arm came loose. I grabbed it and pulled it off with my other hand. Notifications flashed on my NeuroHUD, warning me of the status of life support integrity, reduced efficiency and such. I stared at my naked arm, flexing my fingers. Well, not naked; after putting the armour piece down, I had to carefully roll up the sleeve of the olive-green coverall I wore under all the heavy armour. I stepped inside the shuttle compartment to pick up a plastic cup from a crate, then checked my HMP again.

  HMP (Hell Mana Points): 42

  Right. That was enough. I was ready, and I picked up the sword with my armoured hand.

  [Righty-ho, my man, just place me on your skin, and don’t apply any pressure! I’ll do the rest.]

  I followed his instruction and put the blade against my forearm. The metal was warm, almost hot, and at first nothing happened. Then, without me moving a muscle, a servo or a single synthfibre, Burning Darkness moved on his own accord, sliding across my skin a little, biting into it and drawing blood. I hardly felt a thing — the blade was as sharp as he had promised it would be. I put him down, leaning him against the shuttle hull, held my arm over the cup, letting my blood drip into it. Once the cup was halfway full — I wasn’t sure if there was a required, appropriate or polite amount of blood to offer — I decided it was enough, and cast Hades Heal on myself. I watched as the red and black mist enveloped the area I had cut, and the wound closed and healed over in a few seconds, as if it had never even happened. This whole magic stuff was great, but it was going to take some time to get used to.

  HMP (Hell Mana Points): 3

  I felt a dizzy again – not as badly as the first time I nearly depleted my soul – but after a few deep breaths I managed to steady myself, and I offered the cup to Flamey. She took it and eyed it suspiciously. At that moment, Tarashak finally seemed to realise what was happening.

  ‘You … want to take her as your daughter? Your heir? Are you starting a dynasty?’ he gasped at me.

  ‘I am. What’s the big deal?’ I asked.

  ‘This has not been done for hundreds of years. And a human doing it? Never!’ he hissed.

  ‘What do you mean “not been done”? She was in a dynasty before, now she’s going to be in another.” I said, shrugging. I still didn’t see why this had him on edge so much.

  ‘She was born into the dynasty. Blood-bonding? No-one has used it for as long as I can remember. And you? A human? How are you even capable of doing it? How did you even know about it?’

  ‘Eh, I’m part demon, I suppose. A small part.’

  ‘Impossible. Demons and humans cannot produce offspring!’ he yelled.

  ‘How do you know? Have you tried or something? Don't tell me your wife's human!' I brushed him off, not wanting to explain to him the dire circumstances that had led me to this point. Tarashak burst into another tirade, which I ignored, and I turned to Flamey.

  She was no longer looking at the cup containing my freshly spilled blood, instead, she was looking up, her eyes flicking left and right. Whether she was receiving text messages like I did, or she was hearing the The Genius’ voice, or knowledge of the situation was pouring directly into her mind, I couldn’t tell. But it sure seemed she had been informed of what was going on. She looked at me, looked at the blood, then at me again, and shook her head in the negative.

  ‘Why?’ I asked as patiently as I could.

  She sniffed the cup, then shook her head again.

  ‘Ah. You don’t like blood, do you? And here I thought a demon would be thrilled.’ I sighed. ‘I tell you what: if you accept, I’ll throw in an extra Crunchymel bar. That will be six in total. How does that sound, sweetheart?’

  Her eyes widened, and she lifted the plastic cup to her mouth and gulped down my blood without wasting a single drop.

  As I had expected, a message popped up.

  [The demon known as Flamey has accepted your offer.]

  [Congratulations! The demon known as Flamey has become your daughter by blood-bond, a member of your dynasty, and your heir.]

  Okay. Good stuff.