Salvos

484. Risk

It was a last resort.

Ira knew that this was risky. But as commanded by Levithus, he did it anyway. While they were both Primeval Demons, there was a clear hierarchy. Ira, himself, was a newly-ascended [Hellprince] of the Netherworld. He had only just been a Duke of the Netherworld not too long ago— his evolution recent.

He couldn’t disobey Levithus, even if he wanted to. Even if he thought this plan had too high a chance of going awry. Still, Ira was sent to the Mortal Realm for a reason. He was loyal to the Demon King above all else. That was why he was sent to oversee the other six Dukes and Duchesses, even if they didn’t know it. Because Regnorex trusted him.

Ira would obey the Demon King’s will no matter what. The others weren’t truly loyal. Given the opportunity, even Gula would betray Regnorex if she believed she could get away with it. Meanwhile, Ira himself would listen to his orders no matter what. And right now, his orders were to obey Levithus.

So the Primeval Demon of Wrath returned to Lunaris. Even if he was apprehensive, he landed at the sub-ritual site. At the deactivated circle that lay at the center of the city. He arrived there swiftly and quietly. No one even noticed him standing at the town square. He swept his gaze over his surroundings, taking in all the Humans walking about.

The city had just been through a big battle where a hundred thousand Inorian soldiers were killed. The remaining twenty thousand troops surrendered, letting Peris Dolonia and his forces reach the ritual circle and disable it just a few days ago. Half of them weren’t taken in as prisoners because the Helbir League didn’t have the resources to keep that many prisoners while sallying forth. So the ones that remained stayed guarding the city’s remaining populace— which was already a dwindled sum compared to what it had been before.

After all, they were the ones who had been sacrificed for the ritual to take place. Not all of them, of course. There had been plenty of other sacrifices brought in from Elutra— offerings that had been transported across hundreds of miles to be killed here. But apparently it hadn’t been enough, so a chunk of the citizens of Lunaris had to be sacrificed too. Then there was the onslaught of wild Demons— although, not too many since the city still had a surviving populace to protect the sub-ritual site. The wild Demons were only abundant in numbers in sites that were completely deserted or defenseless.

That was the thing. These sub-rituals might have seemed haphazardly set up to bring the Netherworld to the Mortal Realm as expeditiously as possible, but that wasn’t true. In fact, these sub-rituals weren’t even intended to be pieces necessary to come together and complete the full grand ritual.

They were distractions. Decoys. Meant to slow the Humans from encroaching on the true grand ritual at the capital of Inoria.

At Inor. Where Levithus awaited. Where Regnorex would make his triumphant return.

So the sub-rituals were strategically chosen. They had been carefully constructed so as to summon a specific portion of the Netherworld that was previously scouted out. That was why the sub-ritual at Lunaris bore so few wild Demons, while the sub-ritual at Wilford brought forth thousands of Archdemons.

But without the same amount of time and resources at his disposal as the [Changelings] who had previously prepared these sub-ritual sites, Ira couldn’t be strategic with his summoning. All he could do was hope.

Ira raised a hand, and the blood-stained streets rippled. All at once, thousands of blood needles shot out into the sky. He looked up, hearing the screams of innocent civilians— as the populace of Lunaris was senselessly slaughtered. He didn’t discriminate. Anyone within a thousand feet from him was torn apart by the dark rain.

“Stop, you fiend!”

A voice called out. A group of soldiers charged their way to Ira. They repelled the projectiles that fell upon them, and his eyes flickered.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

He pointed at them, clawing at his own wrist. Black blood drew out— his own Demon’s blood. It poured in a stream and formed weapons around him. The soldiers paused, but it was too late. Ira brought his hand forward, launching the salvo out. They screamed as they were shredded to bits by the onslaught of blood-weapons.

Shaking his head, Ira stepped back. He tugged at his fingers, and the blood rain stopped. That was enough for now. He gripped at their essences in death, pulling it towards him. An invisible aura coalesced around the palm of his hand as he smiled. Then he slammed it into the ritual circle.

And life was breathed back into the inert drawings on the ground. It was just like what Belzu did in the Motharis Mountain Range— that traitor had stolen this technique from Regnorex in secret. He’d altered it so that it wouldn’t affect the planes, however there was still the same fatal flaw. And he paid for it, of course. It was too reckless, and chance failed that traitor.

Ira hoped that the same fate wouldn’t befall himself. It was a game of chance. Without the time and preparations necessary, the Primeval Demon of Wrath couldn’t hope to pick and choose what location in the Netherworld he’d bring over. Instead, it was completely determined by luck.

There was a very slim chance that Ira would accidentally summon… something he’d rather not summon. So odds were on his side. But it was a non-zero chance. And if, somehow, Ira brought over a multitude of wild Primeval Demons, he had no chance of escaping from the city alive.

So he hoped. He filled the land with magic, and the sky opened up once more. A rift formed, before slowly morphing into the shame of a massive crimson column. One that extended from the ritual circle to above the clouds. He looked down, peering into the Netherworld as the gate opened up, and the world around him began to shift.

And he saw the lumbering figures. A swarm of them. More than he could count. Wild Demons. And they poured out into the Mortal Realm.

“It seems fate has favored the bold today.”

Ira smiled, spreading his arms wide. They spread out around him, filling the streets of the city. Lesser Demons, Greater Demons, and even Archdemons. They were unleashed into the Mortal Realm— a mindless horde composed of all kinds of Demons. They chased the fleeing Humans as the Primeval Demon laughed

“Now go! Lay waste to the Mortal Realm! Kill them all!”
Zack heard the shouts and screams. He didn’t want to get up to investigate. He was tired. He was hurt. Even now, he was still injured. The wounds he’d suffered near Helmfirth wore him down.

It was over two weeks ago at this point. And most of the injuries he’d sustained then had been healed by potions and the like. But he had been stranded for nearly a week straight, holding off an endless horde of Demons that had encroached on the garrison. It wasn’t just him, either.

Jaakko, Helen, and dozens of other adventurers accompanied him there. They were supposed to capture a strategic outpost near a valley, only to be caught in a trap. An ambush. And unfortunately they were only saved when Peris Dolonia and his forces came for them. Even though they were adventurers, Laux Lionfist hadn’t been the one to rescue them. Unfortunately, the adventurer army had already left Helmfirth by the time they got word that Jaakko and the retinue of adventurers were stranded.

Zack had known the reason why this happened. It was purely because of discrimination. Perhaps it wasn’t Laux Lionfist himself at fault, but the rest of the adventurer army had sent Jaakko off on that mission to get rid of him because he was a Cyclops. It wasn’t something Zack was shocked by at this point.

Their team was accustomed to being treated like pariahs just because they were led by a non-Human. In fact, even though the Helbir League had been the one to rescue the adventurers at the garrison, Jaakko and his team hadn’t been allowed to participate in the battle of Lunaris. Which was both a blessing and a curse since apparently Peris Dolonia’s forces had suffered grave losses.

Still, it annoyed Zack, really. But right now, he couldn’t even complain about that because of all the screaming. With a groan, he got up to his feet and walked up to the edge of the tent.

“Just what in the world is going on out there?”

He rubbed his ears. He poked his head out, and paused. His eyes grew wide as he saw the chaos. The crimson pillar. The flock of winged Demons that took the sky. He stared at it all in shock.

“Zack!”

Helen scrambled down the rows of tents, coming to a halt next to him. She held up her bow and loosed projectile after projectile into the sky.

“Something’s happening— the sub-ritual just reactivated. I don’t know how!”

“What?”

Zack stared at his teammate as she cursed, running out of arrows. The [Mage] spun around, facing the crimson pillar tearing through the sky.

“I didn’t even sense that. How…?”

He bit his lower lips. He started back into his tent.

“Give me a second. I’ll get my—”

He started, but there was a screech. A terrible shriek from above. He blinked, looking up as Helen gaped. A shadow descended on her. A dark figure crashed through the sky like a reverse comet, falling straight at the [Archer].

She reached for her dagger, but the Demon was faster. It knocked her bow away and slashed her across the chest. Helen screamed, collapsing to the floor.

“Helen!”

Zack yelled as he raised a hand. He gritted his teeth, pointing at the winged Demon.

“Take this— [Glacial Lance]!”

A giant spike of ice formed at his fingertips. It looked ornate. Like a gilded weapon. It shot out, striking the Demon from behind. It recoiled, and Zack lowered his hand. He blinked as nothing happened to it.

It bared its teeth at him.

[Savage Agarat - Lvl. 131]

He blinked.

“Oh no.”

And the Demon lashed out his way. It swiped forward with one of its claws as she flinched— only to look back up when he heard a heavy thud. The [Mage] stared as a silver-haired girl descended from the sky.

“Zack! Helen! Are you guys alright?”

She exclaimed. Zack looked at the girl, his mouth slowly moving.

“Y-you’re…”

But she looked past him. Instead, she rushed to Helen’s side with a worried look. The [Archer] lay on the ground, bleeding, curled up in pain.

“Here, take this.”

The silver-haired girl spoke as she quickly poured a healing potion into Helen’s wounds. Slowly, Helen sat up, her injuries being healed. She wasn’t fully recovered just yet, but she was going to survive. She stared at her savior, wide-eyed in shock.

“S-Salvos…?”

And Salvos beamed in response.

“Yep! That’s me! I’m here to help! All of me!”

“All of you?”

Helen groaned, still in pain, but also confused. And in response, Salvos raised a hand.

Zack looked up, pausing. The crimson sky lit up— the black clouds dissipated as a bright light filled the red and black. Flashes of gold. Zack saw it. He caught glimpses of the source of the light. Five flaming figures. Each spread far and wide throughout the battlefield. They zipped through the sky, burning down swathes of flying Demons. They razed the earth, incinerating hordes of stampeding Demons.

This sight— all Zack could do was whisper.

“That’s…”

Salvos grinned.

“My clones. The ones I can summon right now, at least. The others are helping at Wilford. We’re here to save the day—”

She pulled an iridescent scythe from thin air and took a step forward.

“And level up.”

With that, she spread her wings wide and soared to the sky. All Zack could do was watch her go.

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