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[Contested Mortal Realm!]

[Minor Connection— Nil]

[Greater Connection— Nil]

[Ire-Reais 616 Friction— 13%] [1st Ripple in… Undetermined.]

A tender wind blows, tickling my nose with a scent of wet wood. That's all I need to know I'm no longer in Reais.

I'm surrounded by fire, lamps—no, torches. The hair in my nostrils tingles at the iron stain of blood. I catch the sight of a dozen crumpled corpses oozing the red metal. There's someone else. Alive. People. Round, soft faces, dark and light skin variations, bipedal, clothed, armored and armed. Humans? No, something else.

There's a lurch in my heart when one makes a noise as it looks up at me, eyes glimmering in awe, heart racing and grinning all the while. There's something wrong. Uncomfortable, I groan and snarl at it, "Where am I? Who are you?"

It bites back in some language, aggressive and eliciting cheers from the group of hominids behind her. My ears ring and my vison blurs and when I recover them—she is speaking to someone. The language is ugly, all lip movement, very little use of the tongue.

There's something wrong. I'm horribly empty. I'm full of mana but drained of all my strength, all my Essence. At first I'm puzzled and furious, but as I groan at the discomfort I recall what happened.

Haern.

That's right. Haern, he must have survived. I blink. There are stones in my sight, everything has a stone in it. The light is different and in the dark of the light there's so little of it. A shudder racks through my body as it recognizes the odd misalignment of this new place.

I'm fast to work out the serene unity of this new layer, the absence of any division whatsoever. There aren't any searing differences between sections, there's no friction with powers. It's all unified, all one.

That's not all either. The mana within me bubbles, far more reactive to my thoughts, and so is the thread of mana outside. They're thicker, easier to catch and absorb. Sensing this, I know my [Spells] will have greater effect here. I'm tempted to explore the limits of what I can do with [Invisibility] and [Minor Illusion], but there are dire matters to attend to.

Despite being whole and rich with mana, this layer lacks Essence and I'm empty. My [Soul Crystal] is gasping for Essence but I don't think there's any here, at least not in the atmosphere. There's nothing for me to passively absorb and restore my strength.

Floundering in Essence starvation, I reach into the atmosphere for any specks of the precious power source. Dread creeps into me as the nearest bit of Essence anywhere on this layer is far enough away that I won't be able to stay awake long enough to draw on it.

Go to it.

Yes. Obviously. Still lacking orientation, I stumble into my first steps on this layer—if I can even call it that—startling many of the creatures gathered into defensive stances, weapons drawn and hands flaring with mana.

Small. They're all so short. But they've got mana, and that means magic. With the few glimpses of what magic is capable of, I'm not sure I want to go against so many at once. But then I hear horrendous chatter behind me. The sound of it from that woman's mouth brings a terrible lurching in my heart. I meet her gaze and she's still grinning, passing nods at the others around me. She speaks again, a carnal, raw language this time, and I understand.

"Hello, you are a D-tier Demon, aren't you? What is your name?"

Don't tell her!

My lips press and the emptiness spreads—I need Essence. You must let me go, I tell her, my sights set toward the direction of the small cache of Essence I sensed. There's very little I can do with myself as it is, but telepathy is one of my traits I can spare without so much consequence. Yet when I speak into her mind I sense the tension against my words, like there's a net, several nets between my mind and hers.

She's the leader here and possibly the one who brought me here. Is this where Demons vanish to in that light? To her?

The purple light that swallowed me, did it swallow anything else? My eyes dart around and I almost miss the blade lying in the dirt of the woods. The Seeker Blade. It's a relief to have it with me, even if Haern and most of my strength is gone.

The people holler at their leader in fear—they've followed my look to the blade. Color drains from the woman's face, and I figure if they're afraid of an attack they can't be that strong, right?

A whip of searing light shoots out from the ground and ties around my arms and ankles before I can order the blade to rise. The whip strains against my defiant pull, and against the light it sheds I find the dirt floor is stained with a bloody circle. The lights sprout out of some of the symbols strewn over.

One of the hominids runs over to pick up the Seeker Blade, but my mood has gotten worse. It snaps out through his spine, severing him completely before twirling around to point at their leader.

"Let me go," I command with an annoyed snarl. The woman and all others pale at the sight of their severed friend. The others incapable of speaking that carnal language bark at her, brandishing weapons, but most have fled already.

My nose crinkles at this, frustrated, so I cast, "Alhak za."

My dome erects. "Alhak za."

Mana rains, enchanting everyone under the dome to my spell. "Alhak za."

I turn to the woman beside me, the one with the carnal tongue, their leader. Her minions have all fallen silent now, but she's still startled at the death of the man and the blade spinning threateningly at her face.

In the moments before casting the spell I sent Seeker to kill her, or at least injure her. But there's a barrier. Even as she stands within the circle, stands beside me—there's something keeping me from attacking her. My spell is the same. Either there's no effect or she's resistant.

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When I snap my fingers, they will kill each other, I say, feeling the extent of how the mana-rich environment has changed the limits of my spell. If I can't kill her and be freed, then I must bargain. I had no leverage to bargain with, so I've taken a few.

Stiff as a board, her neck shifts to see her friends, the hominids she minded and flaunted into standing still, watching and studying one another with murderous glares. The battle royale starts when I say so.

She scoffs at the sight, then looks back at me, "So, you are a D-tier Demon then."

I don't know what that means. Free me or your friends will die.

She doesn't move. The startled look washes off her face to present a morbid curiosity as she examines me. "Your Crystal… no, you can't be a D-tier, you're only glowing a bit darker than regular E-tiers but not as deep as regular D-tiers."

Blood Orange.

With that thought, I realize what she means. This woman with pointed ears, a round, scarred face and tender lips has studied Demons and classified them. From the way she looks at me, I figure she's studying me too.

"But you… you're unlike anything I've summoned before. Eight feet tall and very… human looking."

I raise an eyebrow at that, but the emptiness crashes against me. Let me out of here. Your friends—

"No, these aren't my friends. They're just sad, guilty people who feel remorse for me and mine. They're the sympathetic oppressors I've summoned you to destroy. Their sympathy means nothing."

She lies.

I know, I tell… wait… who is…? Biting my lip, I return my focus on the woman. Whatever or whoever that voice is speaks the truth. She's lying.

Then you won't mind if I have them torture each other. "Alhak za."

Adding a new feature and reinforcing the spell is necessary. Although I captured the lot rather easily, they're feisty fighters. Their minds and bodies resist the new exploratory effects of [Minor Illusion], but not completely.

There are ten of them left. I line them up against each other and have them undress, then pick the bluntest tools in their arsenal. All while watching the woman before me. She can't look up at me and she can't look at her friends either, so she pretends to be fascinated by the Seeker Blade.

Snapping my fingers, my victims get to work. They're well equipped so I make them go slow, sliding their knives, arrow heads, and swords into each other. The greatest of the fighter's groans—a small woman with a strong affinity for magic by the looks of it. My spell has taken her but not her mind, she's conscious when her friend presses his arrows through her side.

It'd have taken a lot out of me to cast an illusion on muscles before. But this place is… very rich.

[Minor Illusion] has always attacked the main five senses to cause confusion, but now, either because these are hominids and not Demons or because of how rich with reactive mana the atmosphere is, I can direct my deception in a precise manner. I cut at the reflexive part of her mind, the part that snaps out to defend, parry, slash, cut, punch—fight back. I've tricked it into activity, into thinking the person before her will attack, and it's not a complete lie, as they do attack. Over time it'll become easier and I won't even have to spend much mana on it.

Her arm juts out against her control and stabs, pulls out and stabs again, all while the better part of her sobs at the nightmare.

Look at that one. I point for their leader She's terrified. She knows she'll die today and she knows she can live another day if only you free me.

A chorus of strained groans echoes throughout. Over and over again their arms move against their will to inflict injury. But following their eyes, I see they're all more bothered with their leader's inaction.

They're asking why you aren't killing me or sending me back, I tell her. Her lip has formed a straight line by now, her fists balled up and turning white. Free me now, while they can still live!

She turns away from them and I find tears in her eyes as she stares up at me. There's little hatred, barely any to be found, even though I'm torturing and mutilating her friends.

I let them scream, but only because I force them to hack off their limbs.

She flinches and says, "Accept your fate now, Demon. You are bound to me. You are my servant and you will destroy what I set you upon."

Terrible liar.

It's hard to hear you over Henry's yelling. What's he so upset about? I turn to look. Oh, he's lost an eye.

She glances toward Henry, a strong man with a good physique. Looking into their minds in this panicked state is no trouble, there's so much information. They all started thinking the same thing when I let them wake—how to escape. Their minds ran through [Spells] and prayers that could free them, but with their mouths and mobility stripped from them there's nothing they can do.

Henry takes a one-eyed look of his leader and the pleas start again, desperate, hungry… sexual.

Oh, Valery. She gasps at her name. Fear racks through her for the first time, and she stumbles away from me as I step to the edge of the circle and barrier keeping me in place. Henry… for all the pain you're making him endure, he's thinking of the bed and nights you shared. Should I tell him what you truly think of him? That he's nothing but a sympathetic beast, an oppressor of you and yours?

"Let him go!"

Let me go!

"I can't, not yet, the spell, it… I can't let you out without you sworn and bound to me."

This one lies a lot.

Yes, she does.

A moment ago you said to accept my fate, that I am bound. Thank you for revealing the truth. Now, unless you want Henry to lose his balls… free me.

She doesn't bother with me; rather, she runs out to him and tries to tackle the woman who's doing my good work on his anatomy. I have Henry slash at her and smile as the attack connects.

Indirect.

Yes. Anything following my direct commands won't work on her. My [Spells] and physical attacks won't work on her. I can't affect her mind or her body, but a disillusioned puppet thinking she's a monster should slay her nicely.

I snap my fingers and stop them from hurting each other. One falls over dead, entrails spilling out, and I groan. Overwriting my previous controls, I speak into their minds as Valery sprawls on the floor, nursing the cut on her arm.

There are nine of you left. Several of you have healing abilitie., I will set you free to heal yourselves once you kill Valery.

I can't force them into attacking Valery now, can't paint her as an aggressive monster. They already know this is all an illusion, but Valery's inaction at their torture is as true as the night sky.

I barely lift a finger before eight of them surround Valery. Henry groans over his eye but doesn't move against her. I'd think him full of valor, but he doesn't do anything to protect her either.

Valery screams as one of her friends grab her by the hair and another tries to knock her teeth out but is too weak. The others brandish their weapons and get ready to stab out her eyes.

I've taken their speech again and watch their minds closely for anyone more knightly than Henry—there's none. Whatever friendship was here before I was summoned has been destroyed.

"Aarggh! Wind Scythe!" Valery roars. A gust of wind carries beneath her and shreds my meat puppets and her former friends to bits before setting her on her feet. A blade falls out of her sleeve and she marches toward Henry, tears pouring down her face.

I snap my fingers.

"Valery, wait! Wait!" Henry screams, hands raised in defense. "Please, please don't do this. Just let it go, let it go back. Banish it, free it, whatever it wants, but please don't choose it over us," he points accusingly at me.

Valery's murderous charge falters. She blinks tears away and glances at me. "You… you." She gulps, then looks back to Henry. "Henry, if you're there, in the background of the Demon's control, I need you to hear me. I- I'm sorry, I love… I loved you, I wanted to stop and try it your way, from the inside, but Lumina… I have to save her and I've vowed myself to Hescaria. It comes before anything else."

Her grip on the blade tightens and I sneer. "Valery, I love you too, you can let me live and attack your oppressors without compromising anything! Plea-" She cuts his throat open and stares back at me, rage burning at last.

"They're called the Sainid Empire, not just oppressors. They hate Elves and they've taken my people as slaves. Help me free them and you will win your freedom, Demon."

She tosses the blade away and raises her fingers. "I would have stopped you if I had the mana, but I had to wait… I should have bought potions. This one's on me, but the next time you see me… I want an answer, not threats." She snaps her fingers and a horrid ringing runs through me.

She chants something in that language and my knees buckle. I groan as my dome falls and the Seeker Blade plummets, limp without my control. My vision blurs and she kicks my head as I fall into a slumber I dread.

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