Unable to resist, I turned.
“Burn in hell!” Hellfish gurgled, impaled on the end of one of Despot’s halberd arms, blood bubbling from his mouth.
I lost focus, missed Abaddon’s first strike. Equanimity didn’t activate and I lost 16% health, even with Resilience at rank three!
But something else came as an even worse surprise — Reflection wasn’t working either! The boss’s defenses somehow absorbed all the reflected damage! Did that mean that none of the Paths of Resilience would work?
I cussed out the developers profusely, slipped into Clarity and burst out of the cave, flying past frozen Despot and soaring upwards. By floor 660, my character was out of combat and I could start over again. As long as it worked!
Quickly recovering my health, I flew back down, catching a glimpse of Despot blinking between the floors.
As I flew to the bottom of the Pitfall, the demonic hand reached out for me again, slowed when I went into Clarity and looked closer at the numbers…
My heart was thumping, my conscience screamed, but I’d gotten what I wanted: the raid was destroyed, and the boss’s health was back at six hundred and sixty-six million.
* * *
The battle with the final boss of the Demonic Games began anew, the fourth in total and the third that day, but now sure to be the last.
As soon as I flew into the gates, Weak Will hit me. I fell out of Clarity and tumbled along the floor. When I stopped, I started chewing a coin to get rid of the debuff. The demonic gold crunched between my teeth. Then I activated Infernal Tenacity, giving me almost full immunity to hellfire for one hour.
Abaddon headed toward me, his every step shaking the cave to the ceiling. Stopping thirty yards away, the demon roared:
“Enemy of the Inferno! Finally!”
With a squelch and a slurp, fountains of a bubbling bluish substance started shooting out from the floor and began to spread mist all over the cave. Suddenly I was hit with Dazed, and even Liberation was powerless to stop it.
But the boss didn’t attack. A monstrous full-length shield appeared in Abaddon’s arm, a slit in the middle revealing his face.
“What do you mean ‘finally’?” I asked. Apparently, there was no avoiding talking to the boss. “You’re finally going to get your ass kicked?”
“Bravery is honorable, mortal, when there is strength behind it. Behind yours lies only foolishness, since you came here alone. Although I do sense another, hiding somewhere above… Weak, but treacherous, as my prince Belial likes them…”
“Youlang? She’s hoping I lose. Then she’ll be the champion without a fight.”
“Yes, Eynyon’s Gong has sounded!” the demon roared. “I cannot reach her! The final survivor will be named ‘champion’ over the other mortals, but her title will be false! The true champion, acknowledged even in the Underworld, can only be the one who defeats me! That is not possible, and so… Youlang is far smarter than you, Enemy of the Inferno!”
Leaving me to consider his words, Abaddon turned to the gates:
“What are you hiding there for, old rival? Enter. I give you my permission.”
Shriveling Despot crossed the threshold, looking more like a puppy in trouble than a fearsome labyrinth guardian. The shield in Abaddon’s hands melted away. The demon rumbled enticingly:
“Closer, minion of Diablo, closer…”
Opening his furnace mouth wide, my ally spoke so timidly and nervously that I was amazed:
“Don’t be angry, General…”
“Shut your trap, traitor!” Abaddon stretched out a hand and grabbed Despot by the throat, brought him up to his own face. My ally’s arms hung helplessly like the legs of a kitten being held by the scruff of the neck. “I will give you one chance and ask you — will you fight with me or against me?”
“I can do neither one, nor the other…” Despot croaked, his voice shaking. “I cannot go against you, you know that. And if I betray an ally who I swore to serve, I will lose honor…”
“You? Honor? What nonsense do you speak, worm? Diablo, whose treachery is the envy even of my prince Belial, would spread your parts across the Inferno for such words! I see the pestilential influence of the mortals has changed you! Fool! The Underworld has no place for insects like you!”
The crimson scaled hand with black fingernails clenched into a fist — my ally’s bones and chitin cracked and screeched. Twenty-foot-high Despot went limp, cracked like clay, then caught fire and dissolved in a stream of liquid flame into Abaddon’s colossal palm.
Your ally Despot, level 531 demon, has been disincarnated.
“Death and dust…” Abaddon said, thoughtfully inspecting his hand. He looked at me. “Today I will bring the Inferno it’s six hundred and sixty-sixth Demonic Games, mortal. I will return a champion! I will have my own dominion, like Lucius!”
“Learn to count, demon! This is only the nineteenth Games!”
“For you undying, yes! But counting from our Exodus…”
“And what happens if you win?” I ask.
“The demons will return home!” Abaddon declared triumphantly. “And none of your weak little gods have the power to stop it! The Celestial Arbitrage itself must obey the Demonic Pact and open the passageway between the worlds!”
It all clicked. As it turned out, the developers’ next expansion of the world was on my shoulders. A passageway would open, and the demonic races would become playable: satyrs, imps, succubi, tieflings and all kinds of other devils… Interest in the game would skyrocket; for the first time, a whole new world would be unlocked to the players. The balance of power would change completely, and conflict would be sure to arise around the entrances of the interdimensional passageway. Dis would become even more fun… No, not on my watch.
“Are you planning to fight, Abaddon?” I asked, hoping that combat would remove Dazed from me.
