We stared in silence, jaws agape as we read the item's description.

  How can I get them to give it to me…?

  [Kill them.]

  Why do I even bother?

  “Well! We’ll just grab this and be on our way!” Conrad said, breaking from his trance and moving towards the mythic item.

  “Hold on,” I started, “Why should you guys get it? I did most of the work.”

  “Without us, you would’ve died to those angels!” Tyrien reasoned.

  “And without Lucivar, you would’ve died to the Ashmane,” Azazel interjected.

  “Stay out of this, dragon,” Conrad spat.

  “Or what?” The creature replied. The two stared daggers at each other as Tyrien and I met eyes, shrugging our shoulders.

  “Ok, how about this?” I said, breaking the tension. An idea had suddenly formed. “A good ol’ game of rock, paper, scissors.”

  [WHY?!] Joshua complained loudly.

  It’s based on luck after all.

  [HOW WOULD THEY EVEN KNOW WHAT ROCK PAPER SCISSORS IS?!]

  “You’re going to wager a mythic item created from the Mercy Aspect’s soul on a children's game?!” Conrad shouted incredulously.

  Looks like they know.

  [...]

  “It’s either that,” I began calmly, “Or we fight for it.”

  “Then let’s fight,” The wizard challenged.

  “Now, now,” Tyrien said, eyeing me cautiously. “It’s only fair.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  “It’s not about that,” The paladin said. “Without the demon, we wouldn’t have even found this place, and he’s right, we needed him to complete the trial.”

  “By the Aspects!” Conrad cursed. “Well, you play the stupid game with him then!” Conrad finished, throwing his arms into the air in frustration.

  “Shall we?” I prompted, holding my fist in the air. “Rock, paper, scissors… shoot!”

  I threw paper.

  Tyrien threw rock.

  “Well, it seems that I have won—”

  “Best of three!” Conrad shouted desperately, observing our duel out of the corner of his eye. I shrugged, and we chanted the words again.

  Tyrien played scissors.

  I played rock.

  “One more!” The wizard shrieked, now in hysterics. “Winner takes all!” I looked at Tyrien, who reddened at his companion's outburst, but with a nod, we went again.

  The paladin threw rock once again.

  I threw paper.

  “You couldn’t even win one?! You useless—” His voice trailed off in anger, slamming his fists uselessly against the Paladin's heavy armour. Tyrien just stared at his hand, completely dumbfounded.

  Luck is on my side.

  [This is ridiculous.]

  I grabbed the item, and as I did, my cloak lifted, revealing my bare shoulder.

  “Wait!” Tyrien exclaimed, eyes widening. “Is that…?”

  Suddenly, a lightning bolt careened towards my head, and I barely had time to dodge before a second one landed against my leg, searing flesh as I dashed backwards.

  “What gives?!” I yelled in confusion.

  “Don’t play dumb,” Conrad spat viciously, his voice taking on a threatening tone. “You have the mark of the Primordial Black. I knew you lot couldn’t be trusted!”

  I glanced at my arm, the small black crescent moon that Lunarius had left with his skill had been revealed when I went to grab the item.

  [This is great! Now I have an excuse to kill these idiots.] Joshua said happily.

  I’m dealing with this myself.

  [You’re no fun.]

  Tyrien readied his weapons as I sharpened my claws. Azazel snarled viciously, landing beside me and activating his skill, but there was something else.

  [Willfire]

  Violet flames leapt from the small dragon's mouth, encapsulating the golden paladin. However, rather than burning the boy, he seemed utterly bewildered, taking a few weary steps backwards.

  “What did you do?” I whispered towards the dragon.

  “A new skill I got. It’s especially effective on anyone with conflicting desires.”

  I guess Tyrien is not entirely convinced that I’m evil.

  [He should be.]

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “What’s gotten into you?!” Conrad shouted, but the paladin didn’t answer. The wizard gritted his teeth, digging his heels into the ground, and began to cast a spell. “Aspects, grant me strength, Chaos magic, Lesser Avatar of Isarion!” Black energy coalesced around him, like a shadow creeping up from the depths of the ocean. In an instant, the wizard stood nearly ten feet tall, surrounded by flickering black light. Darkened wings spread from behind him as he summoned two swords of pure black energy in his hands. His form was suspended between the energy like a blanket of pure shadows, the avatar mimicking his every movement.

  “I didn’t want to resort to this, demon. Consider yourself lucky to face the full might of my legendary skill!” Conrad charged forward, but he was much faster than before. His sword slammed into me, sending me flying towards the opposite end of the room, destroying the intricately carved mosaic behind me.

  “That hurt,” I complained, sharpening my claws. Azazel sent his Willfire towards the avatar, but it had no effect. It seemed that Conrad’s resolve was unwavering. My Greater Fire Spirit was still floating in the room, and the Ashmane growled at the wizard in anger.

  “Oh, so even the guardian of Seraphael’s sanctum wishes to face me? So be it!” Conrad disappeared, reappearing directly behind the Ashmane and impaling the powerful beast through the side. It roared in pain, firing a plume of flames towards the wizard. The Greater Fire Spirit joined the beast, adding to the flames, but they had no effect, simply washing past the blackened energy.

  How is he this powerful?

  “Conrad! Enough!” Tyrien suddenly shouted, shaking his head as the effects of Azazel’s skill wore off. “Eldros said—”

  “I don’t care what he said!” Conrad appeared in front of me, his blade raised into the air. I met it with my claws, but it wasn’t enough. The darkened blade crashed straight through my defences, severing my arm cleanly from my shoulder. I screamed in pain, falling to my back as I slowly scooted away from the wizard.

  “I knew we should’ve killed you when we had the chance!’ Conrad roared, his voice laced with anger that wasn’t entirely his.

  Is it the skill he’s using?

  My eyes closed as his blade descended on me. My companions were too slow, and their attacks proved useless against the imposing avatar of darkness before me.

  But I didn’t die.

  A golden glow emanated from the figure in front of me. Tyrien strained with effort against the overwhelming strength of the wizard, his shield glowing with powerful holy magic. But even the paladin's guard wasn’t going to hold for long.

  “Get out of my way, Tyrien!” Conrad screamed, willing his sword forward, sending his second blade crashing into the paladin's shield.

  “Stop… him…” Tyrien barely managed to say, crumpling before me in a pile of golden armour. I stared up at the enraged wizard, his eyes corrupted by an unnatural darkness.

  Here goes nothing.

  I activated the mythic item. Golden light cascaded through the room, blinding all in attendance. It was still for a moment, and I momentarily wondered if the item had even worked at all.

  Then, a familiar, booming voice cut through the Aspect’s Sanctum, spoken with absolute confidence and grandeur. “Who do you think you are, messing with my brother?”

  “Who the hell are you?” Conrad spat, taking a step backwards from the figure that had appeared before him.

  Tears stung my eyes as I took in the form of my once fallen companion. Kril was no longer the tiny imp I had met back in hell. He was huge, almost the size of Zorrack. He had massive, black wings protruding from his back, and his pitchfork had somehow scaled with him in size. His once tiny black horns were now massive, crowning his head like a moose's antlers. He was bare-chested, wearing only a black loincloth with white fur around his waistline.

  “Why, you don’t know me?” Kril replied cockily. Conrad shook his head, confusion spreading across his expression.

  “I am Kril, Imp Duke of Hell, enemy of the Primordial White.” He paused for dramatic effect, shooting me a wide smile. “And the brother of Lucivar.”

  “I don’t care!” Conrad raged, slashing a blackened blade towards the demon.

  It shattered.

  The wizard stepped back, his expression now laced with fear. “H-How?!”

  “You see, I was given a quest. A quest more important than any quest that had ever come before it,” Kril began, standing tall, his chest puffed out with confidence. “And with it came a reward greater than any other!”

  Kril raised his pitchfork, ready to finish off the wizard. Conrad fell back, holding an arm out feebly to ward off the attack.

  “Wait!” I interrupted, and the Imp paused mid-swing.

  “What’s wrong, Lucivar?”

  “We shouldn’t kill him.”

  [Just when things were getting interesting!]

  Kril hesitantly lowered his weapon, nodding at me, but still confused. “Is he not your enemy?”

  “He’s not in his right mind,” Tyrien gasped, having recently regained consciousness.

  “What do you mean?” Azazel asked, leaping back to my shoulder and eyeing the massive Imp suspiciously.

  “That spell… It’s powerful, but incredibly dangerous. Eldros warned him not to use it. Conrad isn’t ready for its effects.” The paladin explained, choking down fresh air in heavy breaths as he spoke.

  As soon as the words left his mouth, I saw Conrad collapse to the floor, his mana running dry. The black energy disappeared, the boy slowly losing consciousness, but he still managed to croak out four final words. “You… Demon… The… Primordial…”

  Conrad lay still, unconscious from the effects of his powerful skill.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, but Tyrien shot me a dangerous, yet curious look.

  “I can explain,” I started. My arm had fully regrown, and I spun it through the air a few times as I spoke. “Yes, this is the mark of the Primordial; however, I am not his follower or anything like that.”

  “Then what are you?” The paladin demanded.

  “I am the same demon that Eldros tested.”

  “How do I know you don’t just have a way to bypass his skill?”

  “I doubt there is something in this world that could even do that,” I replied, remembering the effects of the hero’s ability. “However, I understand why there may be confusion. But honestly, if I really were evil, why wouldn’t I just kill you both right now?” I asked.

  “I… Don’t know.”

  “My brother is not evil,” Azazel said, forcing his way into the conversation. Kril looked taken aback, marveling at the tiny dragon in confusion. “If he were, why would the True Dragon of Will choose to bond with him?”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Tyrien admitted. “But still, I know very little about you demons.”

  A thought suddenly occurred.

  “Why don’t you come back with us to my territory? I’ll show you around and you can decide for yourself.” I offered.

  “What if you just want to take me there to kill me or something?” Tyrien replied suspiciously.

  “Again, if I wanted to do that, I would just do it. Why play games?”

  The paladin regarded me momentarily, then sighed in agreement. “Alright. Fine.” He stood, grabbing Conrad’s lifeless body as we exited the Mercy Aspect’s Sanctum. The Ashmane rose, licking the wound at its side and mewing in pain.

  “May I come along? Now that the trial has been completed, I serve no purpose here,” The lion-like creature suddenly said, its voice commanding and regal, befitting a king.

  It can talk?!

  [I thought we figured this out already.]

  “Uh, sure!” I replied happily as the creature sauntered over to me. He lowered his head, and I stared dumbly at the animal, wondering what it wanted.

  [Get on, idiot.]

  Oh.

  I gingerly mounted the huge creature, swinging one leg over its broad back. I gripped the creature's golden armour as our odd parade of demons, humans, and beasts made our way out of the sanctum. We neared the crack in the rock that we had entered, and I suddenly realized that it was not nearly large enough to fit either Kril’s humongous form or the Ashmane.

  “Never fear, Kril is here!” My friend shouted, activating a skill.

  [Chaos Blast]

  A torrent of dark energy cascaded from his palm, blowing the rock face to bits. I coughed, waving a hand in front of my face as the dust and debris wafted outwards.

  Just how powerful is he?

  “By the Aspects…” Tyrien said sharply, marveling at Kril’s destructive capabilities.

  Or, at least, that's what I thought he was doing.

  “Hello there. I believe you have something, or rather, someone, that belongs to me.” A deep, powerful voice called out. I blinked, catching a glimpse of a handful of figures standing directly in front of us in the ravine.

  “My name is Thaleres. Please, return my brother to me,” The dragon said calmly, standing before us in his human form. “I will not ask twice.”

  [You should release a bonus chapter when I kill him for a second time.]