Devourer - Chapter 184: Loaded Dice

Montis sat with his usual stoic poise as he attended another political function. With the Empire at peace but the rest of the world drowning in conflict, maintaining the Averlonian Empire’s unity was a priority. Hence, the frequent social events in the capital allowed all the various groups within the Empire to mix and mingle. Distance creates distrust, differences create distrust, thus why these events took place.

These events celebrate the differences between the various races. Montis shifted his gaze from his plate back to the performance on the wide space in front of his table. This event was a dinner party with all the higher members of the state. It wasn’t the usual interclass function where a wide variety of citizens were invited. This was an event for the leaders that held the real power in the Empire.

The tables were laid out in a circular pattern, with all of them facing the inner circle. There performers were made to perform, each group showcased the beauty of thier respective cultures. Even a delegation from the Elven Forest had attended, and out of the corner of his eye he could see them watching with interest. The Elves may be old, but the separation and the fall of the Firstborn were even older. The Elves have almost lost their own ancient tongue thanks to the ravages of time, case and point their old name was known as the Alvs, not Elves.

Right now, a group of Mugummans were performing what was known as a Water Dance. The Mugumman women spun in beautiful arcs, their long translucent sleeves flowing like water. It was a beautiful dance, that Montis would readily admit. Glancing at the Empress he could tell she was enjoying it very much as well.

“It seems the Empress is enjoying herself.” Ordias said from his right.

“It seems so, not that surprising, the Elysian Phoenix Dance bears many similarities,” Montis replied.

“Funny how a dance of water and a dance of fire can bear similarities.” Ordias stated with a smirk.

“Fire and Water are more alike than you think. They both flow elegantly, just not in exactly the same way.” Montis commented, and Ordias nodded in response.

“Indeed, there is always a beautiful symmetry in this world.” Ordias replied, his age leaking through slightly.

“I never thought you would be one to wax poetic.” Montis said as a small tease.

“Ah, did you know, Grand General, one can glean many things from their foe’s art and culture?” Ordias replied, and that gave Montis some pause. Personally, Montis was always the type to examine legal transcripts, history books and old records of past battles. Art never really interested him, but then again, Montis himself was closer to an infant in age than he was to Ordias. So perhaps he simply took the most efficient route to excellence, or at least relative excellence.

Montis still frequently lost in games of strategy against his closest peer Ordias Derenge. Still, someone who valued order as much as Ordias liking art was a strange contrast in of itself.

“Do tell.” Montis said, always eager to pick the mind of as experienced a general as Ordias. After all, his reputation precedes him, and he needs no introduction. His name alone inspired visions of masterful manoeuvres, cunning traps and ruthless encirclements. He only lost due to the sheer brute force the Ancients could bring to bear.

You couldn’t outmanoeuvre a burrowing hive.

You couldn’t trap a foe that had absolute control of the air.

Most of all, you couldn’t encircle a Firstborn, that was just offering a buffet, not a display of strategic excellence.

“What is art, to me is the culture’s hopes, their ambitions, the principles they follow and most of all, the ideals they often fail to live up to. When you know what they aspire to be, you know how they will act.

Say for your own people, the Volerians love discipline and cavalry. You love manoeuvre warfare, you despise the slow static wars of attrition won through a shield wall. So what do I do? I lay a trap, and I offer you the perfect charge into our back line that is mined with magical bombs.

Or perhaps I sneak into your camp and ply your water with stimulants. Not anything to make you less aware, just something to make you more enthusiastic. Your commanders will feel more confident seeing the high morale of your soldiers. Then I will use nothing but probing attacks, I probe, and then I retreat. I do this over and over and over again. Eventually, at some point, your pretty ordered formation gives way when one hot-blooded commander orders one of those charges you love so much or perhaps you pursue a bit too far, leaving yourselves open.

You all love the valour of combat, I need only tempt you with it or deny it to you. Temptation and frustration are useful tools for a military as rigid as yours.” Ordias replied, and Montis nodded in understanding. Tralis’s army was lost due to the late prince’s lust for honour, glory and the desire for Empress herself.

Everyone knows how that turned out, considering where Montis himself was sitting at the moment.

“Then what do you know of the Mugummans?” Montis asked as a particularly pretty Mugumman Maiden, flourished right past him. Her long eyelashes batted in his direction as she spun past in a graceful whirl of limbs and cloth.

“Not much, unfortunately. The Mugummans have always been recluse by nature. Their old master, the Deep Shaper was one of the more reclusive Firstborn, or so I hear. I am not old enough to fully know the Age of the Firstborn firsthand, but I do know the rumours.” Ordias said as he took a sip of blood from his glass.

“And what are those rumours?” Montis asked curiously. At those words, Ordias cupped his chin as if considering what order to tell them in.

“Well, I suppose the most interesting would be the shared origins of the Naga and the Mugummans.” Ordias said.

“Shared origins?” Montis asked, confusion colouring his voice.

“Yes, are you familiar with the Crowfather? An ally and confidante to The Blade and, most of all, a dearest of friends to the old boar.” Ordias asked.

“I grew up on those legends, but how much of it is exaggerated, I wonder?” Montis mused.

“I doubt the exaggerations can do him justice. I can still feel The Blade’s hand around my throat.” Ordias replied as he gently touched his neck.

“The Crowfather is a Ravenborn no?” Montis pressed.

“Indeed, an ancient dead race, most would think that the Mugummans were their progeny. Especially considering both have an Avian nature. But how did the Ravenborn become the Mugummans?” Ordias asked.

“Devolution.” Montis replied.

“Close but not really, simply put they cut a deal with the Deep Shaper. The Ravenborn were dying out, the only way to survive was to improve their breeding rate but I am sure you are familiar with what happens when the population dips too low.” Ordias said.

“Inbreeding.” Montis stated.

“Exactly, so the Ravenborn made a bargain. They bargained their souls for the future of their people. The Deeper Shaper was a capable flesh crafter, not the best, mind you. That title goes to the Eternal Mother. But the Deep Shaper was definitely one of the better ones.

So the Deep Shaper wanted test subjects and new servants. Thus the deal was made, half of the Ravenborn would become servants and the other half would be free and safe.” Ordias said and Montis narrowed his eyes at those words.

“Free? But the Mugummans and the Naga both serve the great serpent Serchax.” Montis stated.

“No one said the Deep Shaper would play fair…” Ordias replied with a chuckle.

The Firstborn are not to be trusted with any agreement or deal

Bargain with the old gods at your peril…

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.♚.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

“So you want to bargain?” I asked as I stared down at the so called war chief in front of me. He like most wrath demons had blood red skin and curved black horns. Honsetly he didn’t look like much. He just looked like a slightly stronger demon, I guess he was abit bigger but either way anyone from my crew could stomp him into the floor.

Even Rosa the caster could probably snap him in two like she was breaking a twig. The demons just were not as impressive as I thought. Or perhaps I have simply grown too strong… then again I have been drinking out of the Primordial Font like it was an oversized cup of wine. Yes it wasn’t exactly pure. The primordial happy juice has been processed, but so is wine so it’s working pretty well.

I glanced over at the nearby patch of blackened corpses that were the unlucky shit heads that tried to jump me. I didn’t do anything to them Azatharine just stepped in, and now there were just demon-shaped charcoal statues.

I shifted my gaze to Rosa, who was slurping up the blood of a flailing demon so quickly it looked like she was inhaling it. Mahaila was just staring wearily at her as she turned the full-bodied demon into an emancipated corpse in seconds.

As for Serchax… she was just standing calmly next to me, clearly disinterested in everything around her. Maybe wrath demons just were not her type?

Speaking of Demons, there was this two-meter-tall gremlin here.

“And what could you possibly have to offer. I could just kill you all and head on through.” I stated, and I sensed the ever-so-obvious flicker of fear course through his body.

“You will need a guide, and I am a Warchief, my words carry weight. So I have this proposition, I will serve you, and in exchange you grant me your favour.” the demon said, and I couldn’t help but snort in disgust.

This one reeked of cowardice.

“Here, I thought the Wrath Demons were natural warriors. I came here expecting a War Chief, and what do I find? A coward.” I growled as I loomed over him, baring every long fang I had.

“We are warriors, but we live for the fight, and we fight only for ourselves. Only a fooll dies for some higher cause.” the demon replied.

“Big words for someone who reeks of fear, if I attacked, all you would do is run.” I said, and I saw his vitals jump as if he was caught in a lie.

“A warrior fights.” the soon to be dead demon lied.

“That could have been alot more convincing.” I replied with a growl.

Ah whatever.

“Kill them.” I ordered, and immediately the rest of my hive popped out of the ground and started slaughtering the demons.

Honestly, thus far Hell has been rather disappointing. For all the talk of demon princes, things were quite boring…

Warning, significant threat incoming

Prepare for combat

Well, that’s new, haven’t heard that voice in my head for awhile. I felt the chill crawl up my spine. I instantly engaged my decoy and darted away. What landed on my decoy hit hard enough to create a shockwave powerful enough to knock me back slightly.

My gaze instantly locked onto the target, and saw the target had more power than Mahaila. But I could tell this one lacked the raw talent and skill for combat that Mahaila possessed. His movement, although practiced, lacks the efficiency and instinctual lightness that Mahaila could maintain.

This humanoid had a matted head of shaggy brown hair that looked almost like wool. Judging by the burning curved horns on his head and his cloven feet, I would assume this was some kind of goat like humanoid species.

“Tobias.” Mahaila said warily as she stepped in front of me, the slightly carefree attitude she had previously was now gone. Now what stood in front of me was Mahaila the Swift, the Draconian whose reputation struck fear into her enemies.

“Hey kid.” the one called Tobias said as he hefted this oversized great axe onto his shoulder. I scanned the black metal, and I noticed something. It was made of the same material that a particular sword and axe was in Mahaila’s collection. On the axe, a simple word was engraved.

Bane

“What do you want?” Mahaila asked as she readied her swords.

“To see if this thing is worth backing.” Tobias said as he levelled his blade at me.

“Are you serious? You are going to fight him now?” Mahaila spat back.

While they were talking I had left a decoy behind and was slowly sneaking behind him. My invisibility was so good even Mahaila couldn’t detect me when I really wanted to hide. Granted I had to run in a “low ether emissions” mode that made me slower but I was still able to sneak around effectively enough.

Honestly, I had no interest in doing a dramatic battle with this guy. From what I was hearing from this little argument this whole thing was just a giant flight of fancy. This Tobias fellow wanted some kind of silly proof that I was worth supporting. Well if you could tell all that just from a duel, you were either some kind of weird combat-based seer or an idiot. At this point, I was leaning more towards the latter. So although he was in the way of the gate, all I needed to really do was get him out of the way.

“You want a fight?” Mahaila challenged.

Before Tobias could respond I was already spinning in place intent of swatting him with my tail. My tail hit him in the back with full force and it let out a thunderous crack. The strike swatted him into the sky, far into the distance. He didn’t even see it coming…

Too busy arguing over nothing.

“Thanks for the distraction.” I said as saw the dumbfounded look on Mahaila’s face.

“Well thats one way to resolve that.” Azatharine mused as she squinted her eyes in the direction I launched that idiot.

“He’ll be fine… probably…” I replied with a shrug. Then I felt a blaze of heat next to me and I turned to look at the smiling face of Alastor staring at me.

“Well that was unexpected, I could have sworn you would have at least tried to fight him.” Alastor said with a grin.

“You going to ask me to turn back?” I asked and I saw a moment of uncertainty course across his vitals.

“Well, this wasn’t the plan.” Alastor said casually.

“What you thought I was just going trust you to have everything in order?” I replied with a grin as I loomed over him.

“Oh no, I want insurance and if I have cull all of Limbo to do it then so be it. Afterall no one is going to miss them.” I said with a feral grin.

“That will put some hitches in my plan.” Alastor began but I just laughed.

“Good, I want to see how well you can adapt. If your plan goes tits up the moment someone does something different, it’s a shit plan.” I said and Alastor raised his hands in surrender.

“Agreed…” Alastor said with his best attempt a winning smile. He wanted to say something else I could tell, for his sake it better be good.

Seeing as there is a change of plans…

Do you want a guide?