Bronwynn looked like he really, really wanted to laugh at me. He didn’t, which made my esteem for the demon go up several notches.
"Hayden, I’m sure you remember what happens to recruits when they die, right?" he asked patiently, like he was talking to a child. That tone of voice might or might not have been why I consciously stopped myself from pouting.
"Of course, I remember. They turn to ash and they leave behind some... souls..."
I grimaced.
"Exactly, kid. You are, unfortunately, a mortal. Your soul isn’t meant to survive the death of your body. As such, your soul purse is designed to absorb the damage that death would otherwise cause your soul. But that messes with the other enchantments on it, so something like forty percent of your souls are lost every time you die."
"Forty percent?" I asked, just to be sure.
"Yes. A few percent more or less, depending on the kind of death you suffer. Don’t worry, the issue goes away when you become a demon. At that point, your soul will be robust enough to eat the damage on its own. Well, you’ll still lose some souls to the Abyss, for the cost of reforming your body, but that’s better than truly dying."
Things were still not computing, though. I was familiar with the weird enchantments on my soul purse, even if I didn’t understand them. One of the more useful features gave me information about my purse’s contents every time I dipped my fingers into it. At that moment, my purse was insisting that I had a grand total of 115 souls.
I had ended the invasion with 357.
"I lost a lot more than just forty percent." I scowled at the floor, like it would spit out my souls if I just intimidated it enough.
"Really?" Bronwynn frowned. "How many did you have? And how many are you left with?"
I told him, and his frown deepened. "That doesn’t make sense. You’re a recruit. The cost of resurrection for you should be a measly ten souls. How did you say you died again?"
"I think they cut off our heads." Mia smiled as she eyed her own soul purse, which she had managed to materialize while we were talking. "And my soul count is correct, according to what you just told us."
Once again, I started to explain what happened with Mercutio, then paused. A sword to the neck shouldn’t have been all that different from claws to the face, as far as deaths go.
"What exactly makes the percentages vary?" I asked instead.
Bronwynn eyed me, clearly sensing something was wrong. He could probably read my roiling emotions, but he shrugged it off.
"Mostly? If you’re killed in a certain magical way. Spells designed to harm the soul will always incur a higher loss. I think I also heard something about mind spells costing more to come back from? Those can also leave some nasty side effects, but the Abyss clears most of those when putting us back together."
I thought back to my death. I really couldn’t remember a single moment when it looked like Mercutio was casting a spell. "And the difference should be a percent or two at most anyway, right?" I pushed again.
"Correct. The biggest deviations I’ve heard of are five percent."
"Then it still doesn’t make sense," I concluded, frowning. "No matter how I died, it shouldn’t have made this much of a difference. This is more like sixty percent of my souls, just... gone."
"Well, maybe we can go ask someone wiser. I’m here to collect you, anyway," Bronwynn declared. His smile definitely hinted this was good news, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t confused.
"I thought you were here to distribute those robes?" I asked.
The innocent question made the demon scowl, and he promptly dumped all the robes on top of a recruit who was still squirming on the ground. Most of them landed on the recruit’s chest, but one robe landed right on his face.
"There, robes distributed. They stuck me with those when they saw me waiting. Not my job. Now, let’s go."
I considered doing something about the poor recruit’s state, but when Bronwynn started walking away briskly, I decided to follow.
It’s not like he’s gonna suffocate or something from that single robe. Probably.
Remembering to snatch up my dimensional bag, I fell in step with the demon. "Where are we going?"
"Sergeant Glaustro wanted to meet you." Bronwynn glanced at Mia, who had appeared on the other side of me with the grace and stealth of a ghost. "I suppose your friend can come too. I think I remember her being part of our unit, and she did make it to the end."
I shot Mia a grin and was glad to see her return it. No point in either of us lingering morbidly over our recent death.
As we walked, I looked around the massive square. I was surprised at how many recruits I saw scattered around. I also didn’t recognize most of them, not even vaguely.
He even tried to protect us from Mercutio, I think. At the very least, when Mercutio stole all the mortal recruits, Glaustro was the only commander who actually bothered to show up and explain to us what was happening.
Glaustro laughed as I rose from my bow.
"No need for that. Not yet. Truth be told, I am not currently your commander," the demon confessed. "That’s why I wanted to talk to you. With your first invasion over, you can now take up a permanent post under a commander. I came here to invite you into my troop. At this point, your ascension is guaranteed, and from what I saw of you, I would be honored if you chose to serve under me."
I managed to stop most of the shock from showing on my face, though the demons could probably sense it anyway.
"I would be honored to accept, commander."
Rough start or not, I had served under the man before, and I knew I could trust him.
"I would like to apply to join your troop as well, if you’ll have me, commander," Mia said quietly.
The woman was much braver than I expected. But Glaustro seemed to approve of her boldness, if his small smile was any indication.
"And I would be happy to have you. You seem to have started down the same path as Hayden. Your mana core is not large, but it is impressive for a fresh recruit."
Graighast scoffed, though with a teasing smile. "Typical. You get not one, but two promising recruits from a single recruitment pitch. You’ve had quite the luck lately, brother."
For just a moment, something dark passed over my commander’s face. Then he relaxed and shot Graighast a tentative smile. "So it seems. Now, I’ll send for a notary, and have him fetch your belongings, too. It would be a waste of time to go to their office just to finalize your transfer to my unit when we could have some excellent food instead."
He waved his hand carelessly towards the restaurant’s entrance, where I noticed a demon nod and duck outside.
"Fetch our belongings?" I repeated.
"Well, yes. You made it to the end of the invasion." Graighast sounded confused. "Your death was a necessity, but you’ll have all your belongings returned to you. Did the person in charge of your passing not inform you of this?"
"Not... exactly," I hedged, resentment flaring within me again.
Mercutio had done no such thing. He rounded us up, taunted us, then summarily had us executed.
But this news brightened my mood considerably. With my death, I thought I had lost one of the few possessions I genuinely cherished.
My armor was a marvel. It was more of a gift than a purchase, handmade by the daughter of a renowned demoness armorer. Yules was her mother’s apprentice, and though she wasn’t yet skilled enough to display her work in the shop, she had done an amazing job with my armor. On numerous occasions, it had been the difference between a life-threatening wound and just a painful scratch. I loved it to bits and had taken great care to keep it in pristine condition.
Knowing I would get to see it again was a relief I wasn’t prepared for. The roiling bitterness inside me settled down to a simmer, and when I was offered a seat, I sank into it much more comfortably.
The atmosphere relaxed significantly after that. Glaustro and his brother led the conversation towards some of the worlds and wonders they had seen, and while I knew they had only visited these places to kill and pillage and steal souls, it was hard not to appreciate their stories.
Eventually, a squirrel-looking demon walked into the restaurant, followed by the soldier Glaustro had sent out. The demon looked nervous as he approached us, the olive-green skin of his face shifting to an unhealthy gray when he spotted the two commanders.
"Ah, you requested my presence, officers?" he asked tentatively, eyes skipping between them.
Glaustro nodded. "Correct. You will help my two new recruits sign up properly under my leadership. Tybalt, you have their belongings, correct?"
"Yes, sir." The soldier hefted the two wooden crates he was carrying.
He checked the names, looked at us blankly, and then just proffered both crates to me. Amused, I snatched the top crate, spotted Mia’s name, and handed it off.
Scooting my empty plate aside, I eagerly placed my crate on the table. I cast my Cleansing spell over the entire thing a couple times just to be safe. I did die in this stuff, after all. Then I started digging through the crate. When my fingers closed around leather, I gave a little noise of happiness as I pulled out the marvelous armor.
That happiness quickly died.
Yules’s work of art and craftsmanship was in ruins. Gouges were carved straight through the plate meant to guard my chest and back. Other metallic bits were partially melted off. It looked like someone had taken a knife to every inch of leather, leaving it in ribbons.
At first, all I could do was stare. Then a strangled sentence escaped my mouth.
"I’m going to kill him."