The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

While I was thrilled with my armor purchase, it did leave me with a problem.

My purse now held a grand total of eight basic and five lesser souls. That had to last me two more days, until the next stage of whatever my demonic masters were planning kicked into gear.

This was less than ideal.

The big issue was lodging. A single night in the Apple Infernal cost five souls. My only hope was that Apple Infernal’s undoubtedly fancy status allowed it to command a higher price than lesser inns.

Fueled by this hope, I made my way back to the inn Bronwynn had checked us into.

It took me several hours to find it. The Flighty Lover wasn’t a particularly popular establishment, so even asking around didn’t net me good directions. But my efforts paid off in the end. Instead of the five souls Apple Infernal demanded for a single night’s stay, The Lover asked for a mere two, which included both breakfast and dinner.

I wasn’t worried about food. The rush my previous commander had imposed on her troops meant that we reached our destination long before our rations ran out. It was subpar food, but I could survive on it for another two weeks at least.

That didn’t mean I turned my nose up at the fare of The Lover. The food wasn’t great, especially compared to the sandwiches that Apple Infernal provided to their early departing customers, but it was filling and tasted okay. That was more than could be said about road rations.

I didn’t feel any need to venture outside during those two days. I had no money to afford the indulgences on offer, so browsing demonic stores would have just left me feeling bad. Instead, I devoted myself to the Illsent Mana Gathering technique.

This was rough at first. Every time I slipped into the technique, I had to fight off a plethora of visions that tried to claw their way up to the surface of my mind. I did, however, get better at suppressing them. They also seemed to grow weaker as I learned to use the technique in a way that was optimal for my body, rather than blindly trying to follow Clarinette’s experience.

I didn’t make any big changes. Just simple variations to improve the mana flow through my larger cardiovascular system. Still, the more changes I made, the less grip the memories had on me.

That allowed me to focus more on actual practice.

Soon enough, I was able to speed the process of absorbing mana from the passive trickle to a proper pull, even while pacing around the room. My first couple tries, the surge of memories left me so distracted and loopy that I kept walking into the wall. But with repeated practice, both in the technique and in memory suppression, I got the hang of it.

The progress did wonders for my sense of self. My fear of absorption’s possible long-term effects gradually faded, replaced by cautious optimism about its potential.

It was thanks to this new confidence that, when the third morning came and my brand began to sting, I was able to face the day ahead of me with hope. Granted, that hope did falter when I remembered it was Glaustro waiting for us in the marketplace, but he couldn’t possibly be worse than Wilhelmina.

Could he?

When I arrived at the square, it was clear that the demonic members of my troop were pleased with the change of commanders. In fact, they seemed downright happy as they lounged around, relaxed and chatting. Even the aide who had suffered under Wilhelmina’s leadership looked better, more like an actual person than a straw man about to collapse from exhaustion.

Most of the humans in the troop appeared to share the demons’ enthusiasm, though their manner was much more cautious.

There were also a lot fewer of them.

Of the two speedsters who had accompanied my rush into the fray, only the cat woman was present. A scar on the left side of her face hinted at the price she had paid for her survival. The human goliath was conspicuously absent, and he was not someone I would have failed to pick out in a crowd.

Overall, by rough estimate, we had already lost about half the mortal recruits. Though the locals we had fought earlier were strong, they weren’t enough to have taken down so many battle-hardened recruits. I was sure that if I went around asking, I would be told that our demonic allies had nothing to do with that.

An emphatic absolutely nothing at all.

"What is this?" A voice boomed through the square, making all of us jump. "I arrive at the meeting point to find you just milling about? Form up, you lazy idiots!"

Our new commander was clearly was not impressed. His countenance only continued to darken when our rush to obey sent us devolving into chaos. It took over ten excruciating minutes to settle down, demons in the front and humans almost entirely hidden in the back. The sergeant had never insisted on tight drilling like this.

"Is this the fabled Legion of Torment discipline? Is this what your previous commander had to work with? I have to say, I’m hardly surprised she was demoted. For demons to take this long to organize? Disgraceful. And you, mortals, just what do you think you are doing?"

What followed was a rant I lost track of halfway through.

It didn’t matter that all the human soldiers had managed to organize and line up within three minutes of his shouted order, while the demonic troops had floundered and almost broken into a scuffle.

It didn’t matter that the mortals never received a single piece of armor or proper equipment from our new overlords, and that we had to scrape together whatever we could find off of corpses.

It didn’t matter that many mortals had no supplies to treat their wounds, and that wehad all overcome a lot just to make it here alive.

He had a bad word to say about everything.

The speed at which we assembled? Pathetic, and a personal insult to him. The way we looked like a ragtag bunch of looters? Something he would apparently make us regret because we made him look bad by association. Our wounded state? A threat to the rest of the troops because how could he expect us to pull our own weight? If a demon tried to help a mortal, the mortal would obviously get the demon killed.

That last argument made me want to laugh. The only demon who had ever shown the slightest interest in helping a mortal was Bronwynn, and even he was forced to draw a hard line about how much the rest of his demonic compatriots could be allowed to see and know.

The only good thing I could say about our new commander was that he didn’t kill anyone. Even when he caught one of the mortals gritting his teeth, the most he did was force the blue-skinned man to stand in front of the troops while he berated him.

Still, Sergeant Glaustro did waste over half an hour on the mortals, listing all the reasons why we, collectively, were not worth even a fraction of what a single demon could offer to the legion. I couldn’t exactly argue with him, having seen what a single demon could do. But anger still simmered in my chest.

It wasn’t wholly our choice to be there.

Even knowing about Hayden’s life and how happily he had signed up with the legion, I couldn’t put the blame on him. If someone raised you, told you repeatedly that your only worth comes from fighting in a demonic army, and then you signed up to fight in a demonic army, whose fault is it? Yours, for doing as you were told? Or does the fault lie with the one who primed you for that decision?

I couldn’t voice any of this, of course. I just kept my face blank and took the verbal beating with my mortal comrades.

Even our commander’s vitriol had to expire eventually.

"Forget it," he finally snarled, moving over to stand next to the obelisk. "I’ll end things here. Know, however, that I won’t tolerate this kind of shit next time! Get yourselves together, or I will purge you from my army."

His army, I noted. Maybe he wasn’t as reckless or as childish as Wilhelmina, but the man’s pride was leagues ahead of the demoness.

"Because of the fuck-up you called commander for a while, the original invasion plan had to be scrapped. This means that troop placement had to be reshuffled for a more optimal march on enemy strongholds. In five minutes, a portal is going to open to our destination. You will pass through in a calm, organized manner, and you won’t shame me in front of the other commanders!"

Flames flickered suddenly on his mace, implying the consequences of failing to follow the order.

True to the demon’s words, the obelisk began to hum and distort five minutes later, and a rip appeared in the fabric of the world. Unlike the portal the general opened to kick off the invasion, this was made of swirling darkness. Dread sprang up within me.

I didn’t want to walk through this portal.

The demons didn’t seem bothered. They moved forward without hesitation. This wasn’t exactly comforting, but I had to follow. I didn’t want to be the one to invite the commander’s wrath.

I closed my eyes and stepped through.

The sensation was odd. It felt like electricity was tearing through my being, but I didn’t take any damage. If anything, I felt more energized when I opened my eyes to an entirely different city.

The square we stepped into was smaller and more cramped than the one we had left, mostly because it hadn’t been cleared. Stalls still littered its edges, letting demons hawk wares like choice cuts of meat and various fruits and vegetables. I couldn’t tell which was which because the plants on display were unlike anything I’d ever seen. In fact, as the troops walked past the stalls, I spotted a crate of roots with a myriad of eyes, blinking at the world around them.

I tried not to recoil away from those in disgust.

The meats on display were also alien. They came in a vast variety of colors, from red to purple to green and even a startling yellow I wanted nothing to do with. Clearly the demons did not share my sentiments because I noticed more than a few of the soldiers in my troop gazing at the meat with longing.

Maybe it came from creatures within the Abyss? But… doesn’t that mean it used to be imps?

My stomach churned with horror. I still had strong feelings on the subject of how demons treated lesser beings, especially knowing that even imps could evolve and become proper demons.

But those disturbing thoughts were nothing to the sights that greeted me when we ventured deeper into city.

Humans. There were live humans here, chained up and dressed in little more than rags, with collars around their throats. Some stood woodenly next to shops or stalls, accepting payments or handing out goods when the owners directed them to. Some were led around by their masters, hands laden with items and goods they were transporting.

Some, though, were stuck in processions of twenty or more, led by merchants to stands where auctions were happening.

My insides twisted further. I had to look away.

I was not okay with it. There were something I could acclimate to. Like getting used to committing murder. It was a kill or be killed type of deal.

But slavery?

With Hayden’s memories about the treatment of slaves flashing through my mind, I knew I couldn’t do it. I would never be able to consign someone to that fate.

No, I would much rather kill them on the spot than let demons place a collar around their throat. Even having a person’s soul turned into a method of payment was a far better alternative. Far, far better.

The auctioneer’s voice droned on. I forced myself to keep my face blank, writhing in the helpless knowledge that I could do absolutely nothing to change things.

For the very first time, I was in the middle of a fully demon-conquered city.

And I didn’t like it at all.

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