Chapter 57

  Ah, I couldn’t decide what had shocked me more: Flamey’s incredible skill-growth that I hadn’t known about, or that she had brought minotaurs into Scaragar. Having experienced her Princess Charm firsthand when it had been at level 4 or 5 had been a scary thing, and I had no doubt that whatever version of it she had now, could turn a minotaur — or anyone really — into a brainwashed servant in seconds, if she so wished. But more than 20 levels? Six minotaurs, even if under her complete and utter control, did not justify this much skill growth. Had she turned half the city into adoring fans already? My daughter was becoming a true force to be reckoned with, probably quite dangerous as well, and I was pretty sure that feeling as much pride as I did wasn’t normal. I probably should have felt scared or intimidated or at least a little bit worried. But I was her parent and I knew she was a good girl, so I had nothing to worry about, right?

  I also understood Tarashak’s misgivings completely; had I been the one to discover Flamey keeping enemy mages like pets, I might have reacted in a much more disastrous manner than he had. All in all, the old archmage had held it together admirably — at least from what I’d heard from him — and while I knew he was probably uncomfortable with it, I also knew he’d work it out with my daughter. He’d have to. Because there was nothing I could do about the Scaragar-situation from halfway between Garoshek and Orroth.

  The Wilds was upping the ante by throwing high-level monsters at me and my squad in their fucking dozens, and not necessarily to get me and the guys, oh no, but to get to Lanny, our lowest-level member. I should have known it was a bad idea to bring her with us; my presence made sure most of the wildlife around us were at least level 30, and Lanny, my darling personal chef, was always their first target. The damned beasts could somehow smell she was the easiest prey amongst us. And level 33 Flamescythes and Flesh-snatchers were no joke, but the swarming buggers were the real problem, because at higher levels there were a lot more of them in each mini-swarm, and it wasn’t fun to heal giant mosquito bites on my squad members while running at full speed, taking turns to carry Lanny when she couldn’t keep up, and to listen to her constant apologising for being low-level. I wasn’t enjoying our trek to Orroth, none of us were. The only upside was that Lanny’s presence made animal behaviour in our vicinity predictable, so we were still making good time despite being constantly tired and drained of energy.

  ‘Boss!’ Grashon yelled as he jumped in front of me and slashed a level 31 Prowling Devourer in half with a swing of his new, two-handed axe he had claimed from one of the minotaur camps back in Garoshek.

  I screeched to a halt, Lanny grunting and bouncing on my shoulder like a demon-shaped sack of potatoes.

  ‘Uh, sorry Grash, I was on the line with Reinos and Tarashak,’ I said, trying to look around for more threats.

  ‘Yeah? How are the generals doing?’ he inquired with a grin on his face while the rest of the team formed up around us.

  ‘Reinos says they tested the first catapult. It can throw a huge jar of flameslime as far as 450 steps.’ I reported on the incredible, almost 600 metre range of our new siege weapon.

  ‘Nice, I suppose,’ Grashon said, not overly enthusiastic about the affair. ‘And Tarashak?’

  ‘He got into a scuffle with Flamey. Apparently he didn’t like that my daughter brought minotaurs into the city.’

  ‘She did what?’ the entire squad yelled in unison.

  ‘You have a daughter, Boss?’ Lanny asked.

  She had adopted Grashon’s habit of calling me Boss instead of Lord, and I didn’t have a problem with that. I recalled plenty of officers, both with the Army and the Marines, whom their subordinates used to call Boss.

  ‘Relax, relax, it’s nothing serious. She has them under her spell and is making them work to defend Scaragar,’ I explained. ‘And yes, Lanny, I have a daughter. She is the heir to my dynasty. She’ll love your cooking, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Good.’ She wiggled on my shoulder happily.

  ‘Under her … psychic spell?’ Iskaret asked.

  ‘Yeah. It’s over level 20 now, and it’s called The Bewitching Princess,’ I explained. ‘I think she can turn any demon into her mindless, obedient slave now. Good stuff, eh?’

  ‘Scary stuff,’ Surthakar commented, shaking his head, but I sensed a begrudging approval in his voice.

  ‘I’m sure there are degrees and nuances to it,’ I said, unable to shrug on account of my shoulder-chef.

  Regardless of how everyone felt about my daughter’s abilities, this wasn’t the time to delve into debates on the ethical implications of a little demon-princess robbing others of free will, so I put Lanny down as gently as I could and turned to Grashon.

  ‘Let’s swap, mate, my shoulder’s getting numb and I feel like I need to kill things.’

  ‘I can run Boss, come on, I can run!’ Lanny protested, looking at Grashon with a look in her eyes I could only interpret as “I’m not getting into that car again!”

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  ‘Yes, Lanny, you can run. For about fifteen minutes, then you’ll fall behind and the wildlife will get revenge on you for turning them into tasty meals.’

  ‘I can fight and level!’ she insisted.

  ‘Yes, Lanny, you can. Once we’re in Orroth.’ I said to her and pointed at Grash. ‘Now. Get in the car please!’

  Lanny sneered at Grash, but then stepped closer to him as the big grunt slid his giant axe into its sheath on his back. He grabbed her and threw her over his much wider shoulders.

  ‘I don’t know what a “car” is, Boss, but I’m sure I’m not it,’ Grashon said, grinning at me as usual.

  ‘I know, big guy, you’re better than a car,’ I said and watched him being happy about a compliment he didn’t understand in the slightest.

  I drew Burning Darkness from my back and swung him around a few times to get comfortable. I was happy about having the blue-skinned weight off my shoulder for the time being, and that I could once again run while freely slashing and hacking the wildlife apart, getting EXP and increasing my skill levels.

  ‘Alright, gang, let’s get going!’

  ***

  Our journey continued, and we kept cutting through the Wilds, which was still the shortest, most direct route to Orroth, even with the constant stream of monsters getting in the way. Reinos kept updating me about the progress on the catapults, the training of the crews and the improving accuracy they were achieving, while Tarashak kept updating me about the situation back home in Scaragar, and about his progress with Flamey.

  Luckily, both the archmage and my daughter turned out to be sensible enough to listen to my advice to sit down and open up to the other, talking things through and resolving their issues in a manner befitting a princess and a general. I didn’t have the words to express how relieved I was that I wouldn’t have to find a brainwashed general or a dead daughter upon my return to Scaragar, and I couldn’t find the words to express how shocked I was as Tarashak relayed to me all that he was learning about Flamey’s plans, abilities and skills.

  For starters, her Bewitching Princess skill was insane. Actually, even the word “insane” wasn’t enough to describe what that skill was. I had a somewhat similar psychic skill that went by the name Will of the Infernal Tyrant. It was a passive skill that nudged any demon in my vicinity to accept that I was in charge. I couldn’t lie: the skill had helped to initially establish myself as the rightful ruling demon lord when I had first met Tarashak’s troops, but I hadn’t really used it for much else. It was still at level 5, basically harmless, partly because I wasn’t entirely comfortable robbing people — or demons — of their free will, and partly because I still believed in earning rather than forcing the respect and obedience of others. Flamey, on the other hand, was a demon — a cute and lovable one, but still a demon. And as I had learned over my month-long career as a demon lord, the denizens of Hell had slightly different views on what was or wasn’t acceptable for those with enough power.

  Her skill, from what I understood and had experienced myself to a certain degree, used love and adoration as a basis for control. Princess Charm had been a skill Flamey had little control over. It worked almost as if on autopilot; she could target a single person at a time — who had happened to be me back then — and it did its thing, inducing love and adoration for her. As the skill had reached level 10 and evolved into Allure of the Princess, it had gained extra functions, so to speak. She could target either individuals or small groups, its range had expanded from close proximity to basically anyone she could see, and she could even decide how much love and adoration she wanted to instill in her fortunate or unfortunate victims, ranging from making people more amenable to her all the way to undying love and loyalty. And Flamey had been busy: over three hundred demons had become her “followers” in Scaragar, including but not limited to Terolast the city overseer, her personal guards, soldiers in Tarashak’s army, and many, many locals. No wonder the skill had reached level 20 and gone through another evolution, becoming the Bewitching Princess. At its current level and iteration, her skill allowed Flamey to target individuals as well as large groups, even outside of her visual range, provided one of her “followers” had eyes on said individual or group, and if she wasn’t too far away her psychic tendrils would find her target and spread the love, producing demons who adored their princess and were willing to lay their lives down for her.

  Objectively speaking, it was scary. This much power in the hands of a little girl who fancied herself a princess was … or should have been a cause for concern for me, but I just couldn’t get myself to worry too much about it. By her own admission she had used her skill sparingly, careful not to turn demons into mindless puppets, employing just enough psychic power so that her targets would grow to like her over a period of time. As Tarashak had paraphrased: “the full, unbridled force of the Bewitching Princess was reserved for the foul Third Ring invaders who sullied the Ring with their filthy presence.” Right or wrong, that was fine with me.

  The conclusion I came to was that Flamey meant absolutely no harm to any of those she had turned into her followers; she cared for them deeply, much more than any demon would have in her place. She was a bit of an anomaly in that sense, probably on account of having imposed some human nature on herself during the adoption process. I really, really wished I could have been there with her, to help her learn her skill, to help her understand the implications of it — be it practical or ethical. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me to think I could have guided her better than she had guided herself, and it was crying over spilt milk anyway. She was a good girl, caring, clever, and according to Tarashak, quite patriotic. She was taking her responsibilities as the heir and princess of the Fourth Ring seriously, hence her reckless plan to capture minotaur earth-mages to help her tunnel down and under the hill, so she could get close to the tens of thousands of enemy soldiers to unleash her skill on them. It was … admirable. And yes, it was reckless.

  On one hand, I wished she had trusted Tarashak enough to involve him from the beginning — they could have avoided a near disastrous confrontation that way. On the other hand, it had turned out okay in the end, and as a result I was learning a lot from Tarashak’s reports about their long conversations over the past two days. The two of them were getting closer to each other; from the changing tone of his reports I was getting the impression that Princess Flamey was growing on Uncle Tar-Tar, slowly but surely, and definitely without any psychic influence.

  And that was great news, because two days after the incident, only a few more kilometres of forest separated us from the edge of the shallow crater in which Orroth was located. As the next stop on our roadmap to victory was less than an hour away, I couldn’t afford to be distracted by anything. Orroth was waiting. Riaret the Severing Strike was waiting. My catapult project was waiting. I had to succeed here, no matter what.