Return of the Runebound Professor

The entirety of the auction house stared down at the stage. For a few brief moments, it was completely silent. Surprise had stolen everyone’s voices, taken their ability to do anything but gape with wide eyes.

Vermil stood, hand rested on his massive book and head cocked to the side. A huge demon loomed above him. The monster had grown larger when it had shed its human form and now stood several heads above him. Quiet black fire licked across the demon’s enormous wings and licked at the stage at its feet, melting the stone like it was butter.

The auctioneer behind Vermil had fallen to her backside. Her eyes and mouth were wide open with terror and she had frozen mid-crawl to safety, unwilling to even budge an inch in the presence of the mythical monster before her.

Even a weaker mage could tell just how powerful this demon was. The bloody rosary at its feet was all the proof anyone needed. For a demon to kill an Inquisitor was an immense feat, and the power pouring off the demon was so palpable that Jalen could practically taste it.

As a matter of fact, he could. It smelled like sulfur and ash and sooty sweat.

One of the guards took a step back. His pale features trembled. Hands tightened around his weapon. Breath filled his lungs as he prepared to yell something out. Perhaps he planned to rally the troops and charge. Perhaps he meant to run.

They never found out which.

The demon flicked his hand.

A sharp needle of black flame leapt from the inferno upon his body. It pierced clean through the man’s eye and passed out the back of his head. Without so much as a whimper, the man crumpled.

“Nobody move,” the demon commanded, lips twisting as his sneer deepened. “Move — and you die before we get to the main event.”

“You’re one demon. Killing one Inquisitor does not mean we cannot deal with you ourselves,” the huge man surrounded by attendants rumbled, though he didn’t budge from his throne. It was hard to tell if that was because he was scared or if he just couldn’t be bothered to heave his bulk up.

The demon let out a raspy laugh. “I am not the only one present. My demons are distributed throughout this building. There are more than enough of us to deal with all of you, especially when you never see us coming.”

“Bullshit!” a mage called from a platform below Jalen. “You’re—”

There was a wet thunk. The mage pitched over the platform. He plummeted through the air, blood trailing behind him like the tail of a red comet and splattered against the ground with a wet crunch.

A woman stood behind him, ichor dripping from her claws. She reached up to her face and ripped the tanned skin away, revealing a dull blue sheen. Her lips split apart to reveal an impossibly wide, toothy grin.

“Oops,” she said, a forked tongue flicking from her mouth and tasting the air.

Jalen scratched his backside.

Those are good dart throwing hands. Wonder what she’s doing later.

“We are the knife at your back,” the demon on the stage floor roared. “The eyes in the shadows. The whisper in the wind. Nobody moves. Nobody does anything more than breathe without my express permission. Thank your gods that we have use of your power. It is the only reason you still draw breath.”

Panicked mutters passed through the arena, but the demon’s warning had worked. There was no way to know how many demons were planted in the audience, and when it came to fighting monsters, demons were amongst the worst opponents to have at your back.

Mages weren’t well suited to dealing with surprise attacks. Shields were optimized against magic, not impossibly fast assassinations.

Of course, any real mage would be able to handle themselves just fine here, but those are few and far in between. We’d probably win this fight easily if everyone just charged the idiot, but that would involve bravery and self-sacrifice that none of these pompous idiots have ever known.

“Any attempts to call for inquisitors will be severely punished,” the female demon said, her tongue running along her lips. “But please, I encourage you to try.”

“How?” Jalen called.

The demon’s eyes snapped up to him. “I — what?”

“How?” Jalen repeated. “Do you have a whip or something? It’s been a few years and I’m not as spry as I used to be, but I could be swayed—”

“No,” she hissed. “I don’t have a whip.”

“Oh. That’s a disappointment.” Jalen pursed his lips. “Hot irons? Nipple clamps?”

Leathery wings exploded from the demoness’ back and she launched herself into the air, blurring across the auction house.

To Jalen, it was painfully slow.

He resisted the urge to teleport to where she’d been standing. That would have left Vermil’s students undefended, and he wasn’t about to gamble their lives to have a little fun.

The demon alighted on the railing before him and unfurled to her full height, lips pulling back in a snarl.

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“Play games with me and I’ll rip you— wait. What’s a nipple clamp?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Linestra,” the demon on the floor snarled, anger burning in his eyes. “This is not the time to play with your food.”

“On the contrary,” Jalen said. “It’s always a good time to play with your food. I’ve never much gone for younger women, though. How old are you?”

Linestra stared at him, so taken aback that she couldn’t find words to respond. Her gaze shifted past Jalen and landed on the demons standing behind him. The demoness’ eyes went wide.

“What—”

Jalen snapped his fingers.

Bands of spatial energy snapped around the demon in a split instant. They slammed her arms to her sides and crushed her wings against her back. Her jaw was slammed shut as a band wound around her entire head, preventing her from speaking.

At the same instant, burning purple energy exploded out from Jalen. It enveloped the entire platform they stood on, buzzing and hissing as ripples of magic washed within it.

“Would you look at that?” Jalen asked, tilting his head to the side. “Still got it.”

Linestra struggled desperately against the bindings, but they didn’t so much as flicker. His magic eclipsed her power by a league.

“Your threats mean nothing, mage. Release her if you want to leave this building alive,” the demon on the floor ordered, the black fire twisting around his body magnifying in intensity. His wings flexed and sliced through the ground at his feet. “If she dies, then not a single mage here will draw breath tomorrow.”

“You think I give a shit about anyone here?” Jalen asked through a bark of laughter. “Don’t you mind me. I just get rather peeved when someone’s having a discussion with me and then decide they want to bugger off to do something else. It’s quite rude.”

“What a coincidence,” Vermil said, his voice booming through the room. “I feel the same way. This prick hasn’t even introduced himself yet.”

“You’re still here? Be silent, scum,” the demon snarled. He didn’t let his gaze turn from Jalen. “Release the demon, or—”

A crack split the air.

One of the demon’s wings crumpled. The air around it seemed to collapse, glowing white cracks collapsing in on themselves. A scream of pain split the air. The demon staggered as his wing let out dozens of loud cracks, the bones within it crushed.

Vermil let his hand lower. “You interrupted me.”

The demon let out a roar. He blurred toward Vermil — and Vermil stepped right past him.

Jalen’s eyes widened. It should have been impossible for a mortal to move out of the way faster than a Rank 6 demon, especially without the use of magic. The ways to fight a demon were by setting up impenetrable defenses or trapping them, not by matching their speed or strength.

It seemed that the demon was equally surprised. He stumbled and spun back toward Vermil, eyes wide. “Impossible.”

“Impossible,” Vermil muttered. “You know what’s impossible? I had a great auction planned! I was going to offer these good people some great deals. Great prices. A blowout sale! How did I manage to find the one auction with your dumb ass in it?”

“You dare speak down to me after dodging one attack? I am Salthazar, Demon of—”

Vermil snapped his fingers. The fire sputtering along Salthazar’s back evaporated, and the demon’s eyes bulged. He clawed at his throat, suddenly finding it devoid of air.

“I’ve got it,” Vermil said as he pounded a fist into his hand. A ripple of energy passed out from him. “You were right! I don’t need the Inquisitors at all.”

The book at Vermil’s side rippled.

The fury in Salthazar’s expression vanished as he noticed something — as to what it was, Jalen had no idea. But in the span of a moment, there was terror within the demon’s eyes.

“That power. What are you?” Salthazar rasped, taking a step back. His face went pale. “What manner of—”

“Behold!” Vermil boomed. “A live demonstration has delivered itself to me!”

“Are you insane?” a mage yelled. “Don’t fight the fucking demon! We need to wait for the Inquisitors and do as they say! I don’t want to get killed!”

Vermil paused for an instant. He turned toward the mage who had spoken. Even though his features were covered by the mask on his face, there was so much derision in his stance that it was impossible to miss.

“You seem to have misunderstood my purpose for coming here. I am not one of you, Magus. Anyone so worthless that they can’t defend themselves against a few knives in the dark isn’t worth my time.”

Then he snapped his fingers.

“No!” Salthazar yelled, spinning for the stands and calling out to his hidden allies. “Help—”

Salthazar’s limbs snapped to his sides like he’d been grabbed by an enormous, invisible hand. Vermil’s hand slammed down on Salthazar’s shoulder.

“Never forget,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You started this.”

“Orlen!” The demon screamed. “Help! You didn’t tell me—”

A blade of pitch black energy sliced down the demon, going from head to toe. For the briefest moment, Vermil was taken aback.

“Wait, what?” he asked.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The demon split straight down the middle. Blood poured from the demon’s halves as he collapsed to the ground, dead. Six runes rose up from his corpse, and Vermil’s composure returned in a snap. Jalen doubted anyone noticed it. Everyone, himself included, was far more focused on the runes. Jalen couldn’t tell the their exact rank. For that matter, he couldn’t read them at all.

Fascinating. They feel like they should be somewhere between 5 and 6. I can’t quite tell which one the demon was. He shouldn’t have gone down that easily, though. Even without the magic a Rank 6 human mage would have, someone of his strength should have survived more than one blow from Vermil.

What’s going on? It’s almost as Salthazar saw something else a moment before Vermil attacked. Like it wasn’t even Vermil he was scared of.

Tongues of paper shot out from the grimoire on the ground, binding around the six runes and yanking them within its pages. Vermil grabbed the grimoire and held it up high in the air.

Upon its pages were the runes he’d just taken from the demon.

“Behold!” Vermil roared. “Your demonstration is concluded. Six freshly harvested demon runes are waiting for you to buy them. I’d say that’s more than proof of my words. So… let’s hear those bids, shall we?”

“Are you mad?” the sound mage asked, staring at him in a mixture of awe and terror. “We’re under attack! There are demons hiding in our midst. Nobody’s bidding on an auction!”

Vermil burst into laughter. “No. You’re under attack. I am holding an auction — and anyone who interrupts it will meet the same fate as this kind donor lying at my feet."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Even Jalen stared in disbelief. Vermil had just ripped every single rune straight out of the dead demon — and not with Catchpaper, but in plain sight of everyone watching.

What ridiculous power is that? He still has secrets? Incredible. Absolutely incredible.

Linestra squirmed. She shot Jalen a desperate look. Intrigued, he flicked his hand and banished the bindings around her head, not taking his eyes off Vermil. This was far too fascinating to be distracted.

“Anyone can bid?” Linestra called, not even slightly bothered by the death of her compatriot.

“Anyone,” Vermil confirmed with a chuckle. “So let’s get this auction properly underway, shall we? I’m an open-minded man. Demon, human, I don’t care who you are. Forget your allegiances. Forget your past. All that matters is the now. If you want power… I will guide you to it.”

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