Book 3: Chapter 25

A woman dressed in black armor was sitting by the side of a campfire. A haunch of meat was spit roasting over it. Across from her, a wary traveler was rotating the meat over the flames. He bit his lower lip, eyeing the black sword by the woman’s side. “So…, ma’am…, what brings you this far out to the south?”

The woman hesitated before answering, “South?”

***

“A devil, I see,” Tafel said nodding her head. She was standing beside Daniel, overlooking the summoning portal in the backyard. The two were standing on a pile of rubble that used to be the house but was knocked down by Alora’s clumsiness. “Is it really going to work? Summoning a being from another dimension sounds like something from a fantasy story.”

“We don’t know if it’s actually going to work,” Daniel said, rubbing his helmeted head. “But it’s worth a shot. The spell ritual and formula wouldn’t have been recorded and passed down if it hadn’t worked. More importantly, are you a devil?”

Tafel blinked and pointed at herself. “Me?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, gesturing towards his temple. “You know, the horns. When I first saw you, I thought they were ornaments, but now that I look more closely, I can see that they’re attached to your head.”

“Oh, these,” Tafel said, touching the base of one of her horns. “I’m not a devil. I’m a demon. We’re something like a mix between humans and fairies.”

“What’s a fairy?”

“It’s like a female genie.”

“…You mean the tiny people who grant wishes? They have wings on their backs, and they’re generally very rude or clingy or both?”

Tafel nodded. “Yeah, those.”

“And your race is a mix between those little people and humans…? How does that…, isn’t the size difference…, err, you know?”

Tafel groaned and held her forehead with her hand. “Not like that, okay? Just…, no. I’m not a devil, and that’s that.”

Daniel turned his head away before clearing his throat. “Right, of course.”

The two stared at the ritualists in silence. Behind the ritualists, Vur and Alora were competing in balancing trees vertically on their snouts without using their paws. Alice and Mr. Skelly were sitting in a corner with Alice leaning on Mr. Skelly’s plated chest, her eyes closed and a line of drool leaking from her mouth.

“Anyways…,” Tafel said, breaking the silence. “Why are you trying to summon a devil? It has something to do with this empress that you people call a demon lord, right?”

“Yes. The demon lord is an unbelievably strong existence,” Daniel said. “Only a devil can hope to defeat her.” He glanced at Vur and Alora. Alora’s tree fell off her snout towards the ritualists, but Vur smacked it away with his tail before it could crush them. “Or two dragons, but dragons don’t interfere with humans. Usually.”

Tafel sighed as Vur puffed his chest out, looking down on Alora. “You want to ask about them, don’t you?” Tafel asked. “Well, don’t. I don’t feel like answering.”

Daniel nodded. “Alright.” He paused. “They won’t interfere with the summoning process, right?”

“Not on purpose,” Tafel said with a dark expression on her face. Alora’s tail nearly squished one of the ritualists out of anger. Tafel rose to her feet and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey! You two! Stop fighting so close to the ritual site!”

“Ah,” Alora said as she shuffled her tail away. “My bad.” She looked around before pointing at a relatively empty clearing. “Let’s go compete over there instead.”

“But I already won,” Vur said.

“I can beat you in something else!” Alora said. “I don’t believe you can do anything I can do but better.”

Vur clicked his tongue as he followed after Alora. “Children should respect their elders. I’m doing you a favor by teaching you Grimmy’s code of honor. You shouldn’t resist so much.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Alora said, rolling her eyes. “This time we’re competing in digging holes. Whoever digs the deepest hole wins. We stop when I say so, okay?”

Vur nodded. “And if I win, you have to memorize one more of Grimmy’s teachings.”

Alora snorted. “What are you, a missionary? Whatever. We’re starting in five…, four…, one! Go!”

“Dragons suddenly don’t seem that scary anymore,” Daniel said, the expression on his face blank. His visor was raised to get a better view. “But then I remember that they can kill me by looking at me funny.”

“Yeah,” Tafel said, nodding her head. “They’re like really big puppies sometimes.”

“Sir Daniel,” one of the ritualists said from down below. “The summoning circle is ready. How should we proceed?”

Daniel frowned and turned his head, facing Apollonia’s image, which was sitting on his shoulder. “My liege, the choice is yours.”

Apollonia smiled, and her voice resounded through the backyard. “Summon the strongest devil that you can. It’s fine even if you can’t control it. The demon lord will be here soon.”

“Yes, my liege!” the six ritualists said at the same time.

Tafel frowned. “Is that really okay?”

“Our orders are absolute,” Daniel said.

“Really?” Apollonia asked, her eyes glimmering. “I ordered you to prevent strangers from entering the fortress, yet here we are.”

Daniel coughed and cleared his throat. “It couldn’t be helped.”

“Sshh! It’s starting,” Tafel said, putting a finger to her lips. Her eyes shone as the ritualists retrieved piles upon piles of meat that was hidden inside of a nearby wheelbarrow. They chanted while stacking the meat until it was larger than themselves, then they made separate smaller piles around it. As a pentagram with five piles of meat acting as the points appeared, the ritualists’ chanting increased in speed, becoming louder as well. Tafel mumbled along, trying to memorize the phrases they were using, but the chant was too fast, causing her to clench her fists when she failed.

“Now, appear, Great Devil! Accept our offering and descend upon this world!” The lead ritualist raised his hand into the air and slashed his palm with a knife. Instead of flowing down his arm, the blood in his palm surged towards the sky, creating a red orb at the center of the pentagram. It spread out into a thin line that slowly opened like an eye. Then, all the meat on the ground was sucked up into the bloody portal, disappearing from view. “Great Devil! Bring ruin to our world! Come out! With my blood and offerings, I call upon thee, Great Devil! Come out!”

A short, high-pitched yelp echoed out of the bloody portal.

“Great Devil!” the lead ritualist shouted, his voice even louder. Blood continued to stream out of his palm, flowing towards the edge of the portal, maintaining its shape. “Accept my offerings, heed my wish! Show my enemies your wrath!”

There was a short moment of silence, then a feminine voice shouted from the portal, “Ilya!!! Some weird shit is happening! Help!”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to…, is that a portal?” another voice asked.

“I don’t know! I was burying some swords as legacies, and then a ton of meat dropped from the sky onto my head! Gah! Those immortal bastards are bullying me, aren’t they? …Hey, do you think the meat’s poisoned?”

“Don’t eat it! Stop! Ugh, let me destroy that portal first.”

The lead ritualist’s mouth fell open as the portal winked out of existence, his blood falling to the ground like a cut rope. A wry smile appeared on his lips as he turned to face Daniel. “It would seem like the strongest devil has rejected our call.”

“That was to be expected,” Apollonia said. “Don’t mind it. This time, focus on a devil that is weaker but controllable.”

“Yes, my liege,” the lead ritualist said. His gaze swept over his fellow ritualists. “Prepare the secondary materials.”

“Stop!” Alora shouted. The ritualists froze. Alora blinked and looked at the trembling people. “Oh, not you. I was talking to Vur. You little things can carry on.” She peered over to the side at Vur’s hole. It was at least two times wider and two times deeper than hers. “…You cheated. New competition.”

Vur snorted as he climbed out, wiping away some lava that had pooled underneath his paws. “I don’t have to cheat; I’m a dragon. I’ll always win anyways. That’s one of Grimmy’s codes: Dragons always win. Remember that.”

Alora’s head tilted to the side. “What happens if two dragons compete?”

“One of them wins, so a dragon always wins. Duh.” Vur pointed his chin towards the sky and looked down on Alora with his eyes, causing her to grind her teeth. Vur’s brow wrinkled as he pointed at the ritual site. “Is that a booger?”

“Why would there”—Alora turned her head to follow Vur’s claw—“be a…, that’s a booger. It looks like Dad’s. Did they really take his boogers with his scales!? What didn’t they take?”