RD 7 Ch 36 (Patreon)

I arrived deep within the jungle, a heavy frown on my brow as I looked back over my shoulder wondering what sort of trouble my women were about to get themselves into with Eve. 

They would almost for sure pick a fight with Eve, but I supposed Simone being there would give them plenty better odds.

I sighed, pushing that aside for what was coming next.

In front of me was a small stone temple built out in the forest, a relic of an ancient time long past. As I stepped up to it, curious what the Demon King was doing within, I found there was no inside. Instead, a set of a dozen stairs led me up to the apex of the small temple where the Demon King knelt in his armor.

"Ah, Bran," the Demon King said without moving. "It's still so surprising."

"What is?" I asked, not wanting to play his games, but also knowing this was a rare opportunity for a lot of answers.

"You and I. Two people who've lived this life once before. I'm afraid we've never had a chance to sit down and talk about our rare experience." The Demon King replied.

"I doubt you and I have much in common," I said, understanding he was stalling.

He paused, scowling at me. "We have more in common than you likely understand, but our situation is a rarity, to be sure. There's no harm in the two of us talking about the experience, is there?"

I walked up to stand beside him, and he didn't so much as flinch. Purple veins, however, writhed underneath the little skin I could see around his armor. I smirked and raised my blade high. "Not going to ask me to stop?” 

“Would you? Even if I did?" he asked.

My blade came down with the single heaviest blow I could manage, only to ring like I had struck a steel plate rather than another living being. My hands went numb under the force, and I shook them out.

The Demon King laughed.

"You knew that was going to happen," I accused, flexing my fingers.

A thin field had wrapped entirely around the Demon King, protecting him and stopping my sword. Whatever it was, it hadn’t budged at all.

"I made preparations, Bran, the same as you. We're both using our knowledge to reap unfair rewards from the world. Eve understood that and immediately jumped to join me in them. I'm sure you like to think the best of people, Bran, but really they'd kill their own family for the chance to get ahead in life. Every single time. Humans, here or in other worlds, are always the same. Greed and selfishness always win out. All I have to do is give the offering of power, and you would have thought I'd laid out a feast for your people. Though I welcome the resistance. Nothing that comes easy is particularly satisfying in the end."

"Oh, I would love to enhance your satisfaction," I said, my dry humor carrying that comment as best it could.

"Yes, yes, you're upset. And you feel it's rightly so, and I do not. Disagreements give the world all of its tactile feel," the Demon King said. "Now, the real question is: are you going to wait here until I complete my transformation, or are you going to get a head start and run away?"

I stared down at him, frowning. "It would have been far preferable if that first swing had worked," I said, raising my blade and hacking again, to no effect.

"I'll have to admit I have a difference of opinion on that particular outcome," the Demon King chuckled.

"Yes, I suppose you would." I placed the blade against the back of his neck and pushed. The barrier appeared again, and even as I pressed as hard as I could, it did nothing. There wasn't even a flicker in the shielding as my blade sawed across it.

"You can try, but I don't think you'll break that," the Demon King said, and I glanced around for inscriptions, hoping I might be able to disrupt whatever was creating the barrier, only to use Soul Gaze and realize the entire little temple he knelt on was an SS-rank object. I read it carefully, trying to understand more.

The Forgotten Temple SS- A place to stop and pray. For all those who have been lost, for your prayers, you will be protected from all intentions to do harm by the Forgotten God.

I scowled at it. "You've got to be kidding me. You're actually praying."

"Prayers are just flowery thoughts, and perhaps kneeling in supplication to things that don't actually exist. Or perhaps they do. But it matters not. This item isn't intelligent enough to hear my words and change the outcome. While I solidify my gains, it's the perfect place to avoid any and all reprisal. Not to mention, it's a chance to have a long-overdue conversation." He told me.

"Yeah, a long-overdue conversation, but you know, this isn't the best setting. How about we go somewhere more private," I said, putting as much intention into my words as I could, as I pulled out a simple talisman and stuck it to my forehead.

"A trick. Just because you say it isn’t an attack doesn't mean it's so. If you strike me, this temple will protect me.”

“I know that to be true, which is why I simply won't strike you. In much the same way you can argue the semantics of prayers, I can argue in my own way." I pressed the talisman to the Demon King's forehead and found myself deeply satisfied when the temple didn't protect him.

"See? Not harming," I said. "In fact, I am inviting you in." I then placed my palm on his forehead where he knelt, opening up my soul and activating the inscription that would create a bridge between the two of us.

The Demon King laughed. "You would invite me into your soul? I'm certain with your age you have some experience in combat, however I believe you have just woefully underestimated me," he laughed moments before he was sucked straight into my soul.

Space warped and shifted as my own consciousness sank down to join the Demon King. Even as he tried to shape it, he fought me, trying to do the same.

The world of my soul shifted and cracked, broke and shattered as we both tried to form the landscape. It was a literal show of worlds colliding.

Despite the brutal battle that was about to ensue, I grinned. I had a massive home-field advantage when it came to battles of the soul. I had invited him into mine with that very advantage as my ace up my sleeve.

The room twisted and shifted until it became a long throne room with a throne for each of us at either end. The Demon King looked much like I had last seen Camden, however this time there was one very noticeable difference. His skin cracked and split, purple light shining between, even as he sat here with me. The finest cracks were healing very slowly and disappearing as he became more whole by the second.

I understood then that whatever he had done to split and disseminate himself over such a large population also needed to be undone, and it wasn't an immediate process. I could only imagine how many unwilling souls twisted and writhed beneath his skin, fighting tooth and nail as he consumed them and what remained of their strength.

"Oh, well, isn't this funny? Two time travelers stuck arguing over whose throne room it is," the Demon King chuckled, leaning on his knuckles. "Whatever will we do with the situation?" he asked. While creating the space was certainly one part of the contest of wills, it was far from the end. I was unsure if he could forcefully disconnect himself from being in my soul.

The Demon King was likely well versed in the battle of souls, so I let it be a tie for now, letting him sit in his throne with a smile on his face, thinking he had this well in hand.

"You're just a fragment. I can only imagine how strong the whole of you is," I said with a shake of my head. "And don't pretend you didn't know that."

The Demon King chuckled. "We know each other quite well, after all, don't we?"

I shook my head. "Actually, the first go-around I wasn't much of anyone. I was a low-level thug who worked in one of the cities."

"Vein City, one presumes," the Demon King said quickly. "I noticed how rather attached you are to it." He crossed his legs and leaned on his palm, his fingers splayed delicately across his face.

"You know, I would have thought you'd take a different image in here.” I told him.

“It's a conversation, a negotiation. I thought you'd prefer to negotiate with me like this." The Demon King smirked; even in small details he was meticulous, trying to maintain his advantage.

"Well, I think the first thing we have to agree on is that Vein City shall go unharmed in all of my endeavors. If it's precious to you, well, then it's precious to me," he said, as if he thought I would even potentially believe him.

"That makes sense," I nodded along. "What about you? I don't think you allow there to be any borders to your empire. Take Eve, for example. You were going to betray her."

"Yes, of course," the Demon King said, not even pretending to hide that fact. "But she's not you. She doesn't have knowledge of the future or of different areas of the world that might have significantly more value than her vanity."

"I bet you told her she was different, special, and that you wouldn't betray her." I replied.

The Demon King pouted. "Oh, you're jealous." He clicked his tongue. "Jealousy is never a good look."

I rolled my eyes and moved on, rather than trying to dissuade him of anything. "So… you leave Vein City alone and just move on. Is that the offer?"

"Well, you would be king of the humans," the Demon King offered. "After all, demons need humans to live. I won't exterminate all of them, just those who are persistently problematic. You understand… It's a breeding program of sorts. I don't care about their intelligence, or quite frankly anything except their obedience. As soon as they're old enough to be initiated, I'll simply stuff a demon in them and they'll join my army."

It was disgusting to even have this conversation, but in the background outside this room I was still flexing my ability to alter the landscape of my soul.

He watched me. "So, to become king of the humans… what is it you want, Bran? Which desire should be fulfilled?" He suddenly disappeared from his chair and reappeared lingering around mine, a grotesque smile plastered on his face.

"What if I want to be the one in charge?" I asked. "What if I want to be ruler of the world, and you can go be king of the demons? After all, that's what you want. It's right there in the name."

The Demon King laughed. "A Demon King is not simply a ruler of demons. It is a pedigree, a title." He waved his hands, and the scenery within the hall with the two thrones shifted. "Imagine hundreds of thousands of worlds out there. In the far distance there are perhaps even a million worlds, each and every one of them a touch unique. Humans are common; demons even more so. And our conflict is almost never-ending." The Demon King smiled. "But out there in this great universe, there are demons so mighty and powerful that they could put entire worlds beneath them." He held out his hand, and the imagery continued to shift as an absolutely titanic humanoid stomped on a world so hard that it oozed lava from the massive quakes he created. "It's from these demons that I come. A fragment of their souls seeded into other worlds. It is because of that that I am the Demon King," Camden said, with a smile on his face, turning to inspect my reaction.

"I didn't realize demons practiced such nepotism," I said.

His smile vanished, replaced with a scowl.

"Bran, Bran, Bran. What am I going to do with you," he repeated, sounding exhausted by the thought. "I mean, to even get into that statement, we'd have to agree that beings are equal, which they are not. Humans and demons… incredibly, not so. Do you understand?" he asked, crouching down as if I were a child and this would make the conversation easier.

Though it was awkward, even sitting it was far taller than him.

"I actually think I understand very well," I said.

The Demon King watched me closely. "I am not a fool. Do not dare lie to me," he growled.

I continued to swirl through my options, my gut telling me that my opportunity was slowly shrinking. I was as ready as I was going to be. The room, which I had slowly been lining with decorative spikes along the molding, closed like one giant set of jaws.

Camden, as I refused to think of him as king of anything, cried out and jumped from my throne. Much of soul battles were done in almost metaphor. If he wanted to exit, it was most likely going to be through his throne, which, in this sudden shift of the room, collapsed into the floor.

I made sure it was swallowed and moved elsewhere in my mental space. Multiple actions had all been building up in the periphery and sprang into action at once.

Camden screamed and wrenched himself free from the room trying to consume him, only for both of us to be standing on a wide, flat plain, neither throne anywhere to be seen.

"You think you're clever," Camden challenged..

"No, I simply think you're sloppy," I answered just as quickly. A blood blade appeared in my hand. "Tell me, how do all of those souls taste? Are you having significant indigestion from unwilling souls?" I asked. "I was wondering what you might need to do once you absorbed them, but the second we came into my soul, I was certain of it."

I shook a finger at him. "Whatever you did to harvest the souls, however you consumed them, is still incomplete. And that means you're likely at your weakest, and I somehow doubt the temple is guarding you here as well."

I swung, putting every bit of force both real and imaginary into the hit. I imagined swinging straight through him and obliterating the Demon King once and for all. He threw his hand up to block me and my sword shattered his arm.

Cracks and fragments of his soul scattered, only for him to jump back. With a moment of concentration he pulled some of the fragments back to himself.

"You cannot keep me here," he growled and tried to shunt away, his body disappearing only to reappear five feet to the left. Camden scowled. "No! You can't stop me," he said, trying to move again, only to find he barely went anywhere.

I chuckled. "Right, and with the soul, you should be quite capable, Camden. Why are you struggling with this one?" I teased.

"Whatever parlor trick you pulled will soon be remedied." Camden growled, swinging at me as his body stretched along the cracks, straining and reaching beyond where it should.

I chuckled, blocking his blow and striking his elbow with an empty palm.

His elbow shattered, fragments spiraling off as I breathed deep, several of them entering my mouth and joining my soul.

"Tasty," I said as I licked my lips as the world shifted and massive walls rose up to enclose both of us. At this point I couldn’t let him escape, this fragment couldn’t be allowed to let even a wisp return to the whole, because with it would come the memory of what I’d just done.

Camden's mouth opened wide. "Soul absorption arts," he said under his breath. "Impossible. They do not exist in this world. I have made absolutely certain of it… be it this life, or the one before it. There is simply no way you found those arts."

"Not so. There is one thing you might not fully understand about our previous lives." I pointed between the two of us. "You believe that my life only lasted up until yours did here." The Demon King, at least this iteration had perished to complete the First Demon War. Demons had survived and another leader had risen out of them, but Camden had died.

He frowned. "It lasted longer, did it?"

"Much," I answered, with a massive smile.

He leaned back with wide eyes. "How many more?"

I wagged a finger. "That would be telling far more than we both know I should. Already having given you this clue is more than enough to make up for the handicap you have."

"Handicap that I have?" he choked on those words. "You will regret, one day, believing that I operate under any handicap compared to you."

His body then turned to mist as he tried to run away.

But we were deep in my soul, and I had hidden his throne in the far reaches. The expanse of my soul was far larger than I believed he could even imagine. I simply imagined a filter drawing in air, and with it the smoking form that was the Demon King, as he tried to escape.

He screamed incoherently as I continued to draw the smoking form through, picking out flaking fragments of his wounded soul and absorbing them for myself.

I grinned. This couldn't have gone better if I had planned it. I would absorb the Demon King's strength for my own, and then, when all was said and done, I would use it against him in the next fight.

"You can't," he screamed as I pulled him apart, piece by piece.

"I can, and I will, dismantle you much in the same way you've spent your life trying to dismantle humanity." I told him.

"How many years," he shouted, even as I began to crush the fragments of his soul, scouring my own to ensure not one wisp of him escaped.

Once I was sure of my absolute victory. I paused, grinned, and answered. "Five hundred years I faced your first war, then one of your generals managed to ignite a second, and even a third. I trained with an Oark when they came to this world to hunt demons."

His eyes grew even wider.

"And I watched painfully as your kind slowly consumed my world, over a five-hundred-year-long struggle. But don't worry. I've learned a lot of your tricks, and perhaps you nearly got one over on me here, but it won't happen again. Because I have too much to lose." I began wringing the last of his soul dry for power, feeling it flood me like an intoxicating draught. I didn't want to admit it, but I could understand how people simply grew high on power itself.

The Demon King made one last attempt, throwing everything he had at a small gap I'd created, only for me to imagine twisting my soul so that it became my own throat that he dove the last of himself into. 

I swallowed and finished devouring this fragment of the Demon King, only to break the connection with the talisman and stand up as his form dissolved, consumed by the system atop the temple that was supposed to protect him. I let out a deep breath, power coursing through my body.