“When we’ve had our fill of Zagorath,” he said, “there will be more bounty. Deep within the Infernal Realm, lies Lilith’s Temple of Darkness. It shall be ours!”
The roar that came from the pirates was unlike any from before. It was bestial—almost demonic—and carried across the mountain. These men were filled with Infernal Essence, and they would not stop until they acquired more. Their bodies would become bloated with the substance, to the point where they couldn’t ingest another drop.
And Ralph would lead them.
Victory was his.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I heard Puck’s raspy cry from the entrance of the dungeon and grinned at Abby before pulling Von Dominus back inside of my jewel. The omnipresent senses of Zagorath widened before me, and my consciousness flowed over the new but familiar corners of my lair.
“Status report,” I ordered the imp.
“Nine Sand Pirates. Heavily armed and carrying the supplies for a long journey.”
Excitement flooded my jewel and mixed with the lingering pleasure of my new champion. I forced myself to relax, just a little. This was exactly what I’d been preparing for. I couldn’t fuck it up just because I wanted more of their gear and their essence. As Abby had said, I’d already learned so much, and I couldn’t afford to be complacent.
“Who leads them?” I asked.
“The boy from before. He carries new weapons and radiates enough Infernal Essence and Soul Essence to power six soul forges.” Puck swung into one of the vents, and a flicker of appreciation slipped from his consciousness at the space. “Something’s happened to him. But I’m sure you’ll feel it when he arrives.” The imp paused, and suddenly his voice turned sly. “I see we have a new champion in our midst. She’s quite the pretty little creature, isn’t she?”
Halfway through clothing herself, Abby shot a glare up at the ceiling, where Puck was concealed among the Storm Sprites and demonic Hellbats. “I think I liked you better when you sounded like an ugly little infant on wings, Imp.”
“Ensure you don’t tear your clothes on those jagged little words,” Puck snarked back, “else you’ll have to fight the adventurers bared to the world. Or do you enjoy the feeling of being free?”
Bertha’s voice cut through the edged conversation. “More details, Puck, less sarcasm.”
“As you wish, Master Troll. These are not simple bandits, my lord, but powerful adventurers. They’ve slain the varidus and seek to use the essence to conquer your dungeon. They carry a variety of weapons. Five wield crossbows and a mix of straight and jagged swords. Two possess spears, one swings an enormous hammer—undoubtedly to compensate for a lack of virulence in other areas. Another has a battleaxe, and the last carries two broadswords and a familiar weapon.”
“Familiar weapon?” I asked.
“Gavin’s mace.”
“Ralph,” I muttered from my jewel.
“Indeed. He mentioned something about taking Lilith’s Temple of Darkness for himself.”
Damn, something really had changed Ralph. For better or worse, it didn’t matter. Everything was going according to plan—he’d left, and come back with adventurers by his side. And these sounded a damn sight more impressive and powerful than the last pack who’d graced my halls with their innards. I checked myself from getting too confident. One step at a time.
Finally dressed, Abby turned to look back at my jewel. “What’s your plan?”
“Bertha, return to the First Floor, take your place by the dais. You stand with Abby. Together, you are the last line of defence in protecting Zagorath.”
“Your voice lacks confidence, Master,” Bertha commented, scooping up her halberd and racing down the obsidian steps. “May I ask why?”
“Oh, we’ll kill them. We’ll kill them all, unless, like before, they’re of use to us.” I chuckled, and then cast my consciousness over the Hellbats, now cohabiting with the Storm Sprites above the antechamber. “But caution is the word of the day. Puck, you’re running interference. Give these adventurers the warmest of welcomes Zagorath has to offer.”
“I see I’m the dispensable one.” Puck’s wings shifted as he swung out of the vent, hung from the ledge, and surveyed the antechamber with glittering red eyes. “Why not have the troll fight them first? Or the disciple of Ciryli?”
If I’d been in elf form, I’d have rolled my eyes at his comment. “You’re mobile, fast, and blend in with the Hellbats. I need you to make sure that when they’re bleeding, it hurts. And, you can avoid my traps in the antechamber. Neither Bertha or Abby can manage that while fighting.”
They probably could, but it was clear the imp needed an ego-boost.
“Your will is my command,” Puck said in a satisfied tone while his mind adopted a cunning edge.
My consciousness constricted and slid away from my ability to channel essence—the first adventurer had stepped on my entrance’s top stair. He was a tempest of Infernal and Soul Essence that roared through him like a maelstrom of fury, death, and bitter hatred. There was a new scar racing over his jawline, but it was undoubtedly Ralph.
He was a changed man. Something had happened to him in the mere days between his last visit. His jaw was set, and a dangerous glitter shone in his eyes as he descended the steps. His clothing, too, had changed. No longer did he wear simple leather armor. No, this was shining black leather, glistening with metal studs, and far more difficult to puncture than the simple fare the Scalpers had worn. Fresh, still-drying blood was splattered over his scuffed leather armor. Puck hadn’t been kidding—he’d been killing the varidus, gaining their essence, and making himself much more powerful than before.
Two swords glittered in Ralph’s hands, and as my consciousness swam over them, I recognized the sigils. They were Swiftness and Might, but much more powerful versions. Gavin’s club was fastened to his back, a poor weapon compared to the twin two-handed swords he wielded. Did he know how
