Demonic Devourer’s Development - Chapter 203

“Alright, now listen to me. I am going to hold a tournament to separate “real warriors” from weaklings like you, with rewards and riches to the winners. In the Fifth Circle, in Dis. This says me, Devourer! You three will help me spread this information in Limbo.”

“Whoa… Are you really Devourer?” the bandit leader asked, raising from the ground. He already regained most of his composure, just like the rest of the gang. They lowered their weapons now. One thing they had—instead of brains—was an animal instinct for danger.

And maybe it was a bit slow, but now it was shouting at them that real deal or not, I was stronger than them.

In response, I snarled at them one more time. “Yes, I am! Now bow and obey!”

They didn’t hesitate to prostrate themselves on their knees—or, in the case of the one bandit who was still mounted on his bird. The birds, affected by the fearsomeness of my shout, folded their wings and lowered their heads too, completing the picture.

I felt much better.

“So, did you not hear my first order? Help me spread the word around this place. I imagine it would be a pain in the ass to make people listen in the first place, but maybe even you can give me some ideas on how to do that. I didn’t live there, after all.”

“Um… What’s a tour… to-ur-na-ment, chief?”

I shut my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Everyone will gather together and fight to find out the strongest bunch.”

The looks of realisation passed over the trio, only to be replaced with these of puzzlement again. “Demons already fight all the time. Doesn’t that mean we are already in the tour-mament?”

“That’s different…” I read the lack of understanding in the bandits’ tiny brains and cut myself off. “Whatever. Just say that whoever comes to Dis will be rewarded if they are strong enough. Is that clear for you?”

The bandits, enlightened again, eagerly expressed their understanding. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“We can shout from the skies about that!” one bandit offered.

“And throw food down. So people know we have more!”

“Except we don’t.”

“But he’s Devourer. Sure he has?”

“Exactly, Devourer! He eats everything!”

“Then, then, we can tell the stuff directly to the big toots. They are the strongest, and they will believe us if we say we came from Devourer, won’t they?”

“If they will even listen. We’ll probably just get kicked out!”

“Just kicked out? They would tear us apart! And our birds!”

“Out birds? They won’t. They will just take them from us.”

“No, they won’t. Terrorbeak won’t ever let herself to be mounted by anyone but me. Isn’t that right, girl? Yes, yes, I’m right.” The bandit scratched his bird behind a bone growth that framed the back of its head, to the beast’s visible pleasure.

“Yeah? Well, that’s just you. I’m sure that my Bastard just waits an opportunity to betray me…”

“Shut up, that’s enough from you!” I interrupted their squabbling, which went too far away from the topic I was interested in and too far into the realm of comparing their pets. “I will go to the… big toots, you said? And you will throw food and words at people.”

The matter of acquiring food was simple. The Abyss was just an arm’s reach away. It was a simple matter for me to catch a bunch of people from it and butcher them into parts, but it was an even easier matter to descend onto the harpooners who did the same.

They were protected by their gang leaders, which got my wind claws and my tournament invitation before being thrown into the Abyss—to be caught somewhere, to stop their fall by themselves or to crash to death in Cocytus.

The harpooners and netters were shooed away, and their stocks of prepared meat were gathered by me and passed on to the air bandits. As much of them, at least, as their birds could carry. After that, wielding gained from them knowledge of where the strongest of local demons, leaders of the gangs and other notable personalities lived—so-called “big toots”—I went to seek or force an audience with them.

It wasn’t as simple of a task. Even farther from the Abyss, Limbo was a churning pot of endless carnage and people hungry for resources and power. Very little civility was in this place, and even those who had a rare privilege of being able to fly—such as myself—were constantly attacked by flocks of birds of all sizes and, occasionally, by some archer of javelin-wielder who wanted to score a hit at a more meaty target than their usual one.

This wasn’t deadly, wasn’t even dangerous, but it was certainly annoying. Killing a few offenders helped to scare others away, but only until I flew farther, to a place where no one heard or saw me yet, and everything repeated once again.

To this added the problem of seeking the demons I looked for. None of them were public figures, since looking for attention in Limbo was just looking for trouble. Whatever they ruled, they ruled from well-defended and well-hidden lairs. Air bandits could give me names and general direction, but nothing more.

I had to descend to the streets and ask people myself. At least, it didn’t matter if they answered me, not, or replied with a lie. If they knew the answer, I stole it from their head anyway, but inquiries in the position of local lords gained me even more dangerous attention from locals.

But I couldn’t say that this was all in vain, either. Slowly, but surely, my infamy in this place grew. By the end of my first day here, people stopped attacking me unless they were in a group and armed to their teeth. And the next morning—or what substituted for it in Hell—when the rumours about me spread even more, I finally had my first major success.