“Interesting,” Decimus murmured, eyes locking onto Samvek again with a grin that showed far too many teeth. “You’ve been feeding him well, cousin.” Samvek didn’t wait for another word, but exploded forward in a blur of motion and lightning, spear thrust aimed straight at Decimus’ chest.

  The moment Samvek struck, the warehouse erupted into chaos. His spear hit Decimus like a thunderbolt, lightning exploding along the shaft as the tip slammed into the demon’s chest. Decimus caught it with one massive hand, claws biting into the weapon as sparks tore across the room, his feet sliding a half step across the stone. He laughed at the pain. Apparently, demons had a masochistic streak.

  Samvek twisted the spear, released it, and followed up with a knee that cracked into Decimus’ ribs hard enough to echo throughout the old warehouse. Hell mana flared haphazardly around Samvek, a deep red haze that crawled over his armor and skin, and I felt Hunger growing more pervasive through the bond we shared. There was none of Samvek’s normally measured style or flow in his combat. This was brutality, plain and simple. I wondered for a second if maybe I had done more harm than good when I opened this new path within him.

  Decimus answered with raw force. He swung one arm in a brutal arc, backhanding Samvek across the room and through a stack of crates that shattered into splinters. The demon rolled his shoulders, purple skin rippling over dense muscle, and grinned. “Yes,” he rumbled. “There it is. You reek of Hell, little warrior, but you’re wearing it wrong. You must be one of Asmodeus’ lackeys. Not even really aware how evil works.”

  Samvek was already back on his feet, lightning snapping around him as he charged again. He warped space in short, violent jumps, appearing at Decimus’ flank, then above him, then behind, spear striking again and again. Each blow landed with killing intent, lightning and Psi reinforcing every thrust. Decimus bled, dark ichor sizzling as it hit the floor, but he didn’t retreat. It was obvious that he wasn’t a match for Samvek, almost from the first instant of combat, but he appeared to be looking for something else.

  The demon countered with flame and shadow, sweeping arcs of hellfire that forced Samvek to dodge. When Samvek slipped in close and drove his spear into Decimus’ shoulder, the demon roared and grabbed him by the throat. The heat pouring off his skin was intense enough that even I felt it across the room. “You want my strength?” Decimus snarled. “Then take it properly.”

  Samvek’s response was a savage grin. “That’s the plan,” he shot back, and the red glow around him intensified. I felt Hunger claw at the edges of my own thoughts, a vicious pull that made my stomach knot. He slammed his forehead into Decimus’ face, lightning detonating on contact, and tore free before the demon could crush his windpipe.

  That was when I moved. I threw up layered force fields between them, snapping them into place just as Decimus lunged again. His claws raked across the constructs, tearing through the first layer and cracking the second before I reinforced it. Selena was there with me, reality folding as she bent space to slow both of them, just enough to keep the clash from escalating further.

  “Samvek, stop!” I shouted, pushing command into my voice, leaning into my Charisma to reinforce the point. He didn’t hear me. I pushed out with Trailblazer’s Aura, but there was still no response. His own aura was flaring wildly now, Hell mana rolling off him in waves, and I saw his eyes lose focus. Hunger was driving him, not strategy, and that terrified me more than Decimus ever could.

  Decimus laughed again, delighted. “Do you see, cousin?” he called to Tad, never taking his eyes off Samvek. “This is what happens when you corrupt the purity of chaos. You should revel in it rather than trying to deny yourself. That is the point of power, to never have to do without.” He stepped forward, pressing against my force fields. I felt them strain, but I also knew he couldn’t break through them, at least not quickly.

  Selena’s expression hardened. She stepped closer and warped reality around Samvek’s legs, anchoring him in place. The red glow sputtered as the spatial distortion interfered with his momentum. He fought it, muscles straining, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might turn on us instead.

  I closed the distance and grabbed him, locking my arms around his shoulders and chest. The heat coming off him was intense, and the Hell mana burned against my senses, but I held on. “Samvek,” I said sharply, forcing my voice to cut through the noise. “Look at me. This isn’t you.” As I spoke, I activated an ability that I almost never used. I should have thought of it first.

  Feral Charisma. It was an ability designed to get through to the predator’s mind, and that was definitely where Samvek was at now.

  He thrashed once, then froze. I felt the resistance ripple through his body, Hunger pushing back against his will. Then slowly, painfully, it receded. The red glow dimmed to embers, and his breathing came in ragged gasps. He sagged against me, shame radiating off him as clearly as the mana had before.

  “I… I lost it,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

  I tightened my grip briefly before letting him go. “You caught it,” I said quietly. “That’s what matters.” I glanced past him to Decimus, who had stopped advancing and was watching with narrowed eyes, amusement replaced by calculation.

  Selena lowered her magic, though she stayed ready, and the force fields faded back into nothing. Decimus straightened and brushed ash and ichor from his chest with one clawed hand. “Pity,” he said lightly. “I haven’t been that close to death in a very long time, and I am of the mind that it might be preferable to the prison I currently call home. Besides, you never know if you’re alive until you are fighting for your life.” His eyes locked on me. “But you know something about that, don’t you?”

  I didn’t give him a response.

  He gestured toward Samvek, never once tearing his golden gaze away from me. “You’re the leash, then.”

  “For now. For the sake of my friend,” I replied evenly.

  The warehouse settled into a tense stillness. Samvek stepped back, head bowed, while Fara appeared at Tad’s side, blade half drawn, eyes locked on the demon. Tad hadn’t moved the entire time, but his presence pressed outward now, steady and undeniable.

  Decimus finally inclined his head a fraction, acknowledging the shift. “Well,” he said, voice smooth again, “it seems introductions are over.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four: Bargain

  The warehouse stayed tense as Decimus’ words faded, like everyone was waiting to see which direction the next breath would tilt the room. Samvek stood a few paces away from me with his spear lowered and his shoulders tight, the shame in him strong enough that I could feel it through our bond. Selena kept herself between Tad and Decimus without making it obvious, reality thickening around her in subtle ways. Fara never moved from Tad’s side, where her hand stayed close to her blade and her eyes remained locked on the demon’s throat.

  Decimus looked entirely too comfortable for a creature who had almost been eaten alive ten seconds ago. His wings were half-furled behind him, leather and scars catching the forge light, and the deep purple of his skin made him look carved out of a twilight storm. He turned his head slowly as if he were inspecting a room in his own palace, not standing inside a warehouse surrounded by enemies and mirror golems. When his molten eyes settled on me again, I felt that predatory amusement return.

  I stepped forward and forced myself to speak like a man who belonged in the room. “Since we skipped the niceties,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I’m Silas Renner-Kalestian, Forerunner, System Mediator, Duke of Hell, Life Force Cultivator, Trailblazer of the Fused Path, and favored of the Ways.” I didn’t raise my chin or posture, but I wasn’t exactly meek. “This is Selena Turga, scion of House Turga, with more training and resources than I’ll have for centuries. She is my fiancée, and a Pioneer bound to my path. This,” I said, “is Samvek Rayden, heir to Clan Rayden, Blood Hunter, bonded dragon rider, my mentor, my friend, and the one who decided you looked like food.”

  Decimus’ nostrils flared as he listened, and I saw the moment his attention shifted from performance to analysis. “That explains the smell,” he said, voice low and pleased. “Hell on two of you, Heavens on all three.” He inhaled again, slower this time, as if tasting layers. “And in you,” he added, looking at me, “there’s even more. Something old. Something sealed. Something”—his eyes went wide with recognition—“primordial! How refreshing.”

  He hitched a thumb toward Tad, and his smile sharpened. “You might even be more interesting than my cousin here.”

  Tad’s expression didn’t change much. If anything, he seemed relieved. Selena’s eyes narrowed, and Samvek’s grip tightened on his spear for an instant before he forced it loose again. Fara didn’t move at all, but the tension in her posture was the kind that came right before violence. It was tempting to answer Decimus with a barb of my own, but I didn’t want this to turn into a game.

  I held his gaze and let my aura settle just enough to remind him what kind of room he stood in. “Save your curiosity,” I said. “We don’t really care who you find interesting. We’ve got bigger problems.” I could feel the golems behind us shift slightly, sprites tightening their patterns as if they were ready to act on a thought Tad hadn’t even formed yet. Decimus noticed that too, and the humor in his eyes cooled into something more careful.

  The demon’s wings twitched once, and then he clasped his hands behind his back like a noble attending court. “Very well,” he murmured, tone still mocking, but quieter now. “Then speak plainly, Silas Renner-Kalestian. Tell me why I am here, and why I should bother listening to anything you have to say.”

  I didn’t answer right away. I let the silence stretch, just long enough to remind him that he was not the one controlling tempo anymore. When I finally spoke, my voice stayed calm, but the meaning behind it was not. “Good,” I said. “Now we’re ready to talk.”

  Decimus’ patience frayed first, which told me more than his bravado ever could. His wings shifted again, a subtle flex that pushed heat through the air, and his eyes flicked once toward Samvek before returning to me. I could feel the hunger still coiled inside my friend, suppressed but not gone, like a blade half-drawn and waiting for permission. That made this next part delicate, because Decimus could smell that weakness just as clearly as he’d smelled our systems.

  “We aren’t here for your barbs,” I said at last, my voice flat and deliberate. “We aren’t here to exchange witticisms. We are here to make a bargain.” I took one more step forward, closing the distance just enough to where he had to acknowledge me as the axis of the conversation. “If we can’t, I might have to let Samvek finish you off.”

  The demon’s expression twitched, calculating. I didn’t let him speak.

  “His Hell class is new,” I continued, keeping my tone even, almost conversational. “It might do him some good to indulge in that Hunger. You should also know that if that happens, your soul won’t be going anywhere. I’ll grind it into oblivion, and all that you are will cease to exist, except as a small boost in power for my friend.” I held his gaze, unblinking. “Hopefully, that gives you the motivation to reach a deal with us.”

  For a heartbeat, I thought he might attack, despite being hopelessly outnumbered. Then I saw him staring at me, trying to decide if I was telling the truth. Ultimately, he must have accepted his fate, because he didn’t make any enraged comments or try to bait me into action. Instead, he bowed.

  It wasn’t deep, and it wasn’t humble, but it was unmistakable. “Very well,” Decimus said, voice controlled now, the mockery stripped down to a thin veneer. “What is it that you want from me, and what are you offering?” His eyes flicked toward Samvek again, then back to me. “You do remember that in a bargain, each side must get something, and they must at least believe the exchange is equal. Devils are supposed to be good at that sort of nonsense.”

  “I don’t trust you,” I replied without hesitation. “And the fact that even devils hate you is telling.” I felt my authority settle into place, steady and immovable. “What we want is simple. You will join us in the battle against the Order’s ascendant.”

  Decimus’ eyes narrowed, but I kept going.

  “You will fight with all your might,” I said. “You will not hold back, hide, or flee unless given permission by me or Tad, or until the enemy ascendant has fallen.” I felt Tad’s attention sharpen beside me, his authority aligning with mine even before I finished. “You may not attempt to consume the target’s essence, or that of anyone else, for that matter. You may not attack me, Tad, or any of our allies. You may not intentionally inflict harm upon innocents, and you must strive to limit collateral damage.”

  The silence that followed was heavy enough to feel like pressure against my skin. Decimus straightened slowly, wings spreading a fraction wider as if he needed the extra space just to breathe through the implications. “And in exchange for an almost certain death,” he asked softly, “you offer me what?”

  That was when Urg stepped into being beside me, a sudden, overwhelming presence that charged the air. Decimus froze, eyes going wide as his gaze snapped to the eidolon’s towering form. “An Astral Lord? Here?” he breathed, confusion and shock bleeding into his voice. Then his head tilted slightly. “No. Not yet. But at another point.” His gaze flicked between Urg and me. “Hmm. Perhaps there’s a small chance to come out of this alive, after all.”

  Tad didn’t let the moment stretch. “As for what we’re offering,” he said, stepping forward, voice steady despite the exhaustion still clinging to him, “nothing less than your freedom. So long as you leave Aerth as soon as the battle is over.”

  Decimus’ attention snapped to him. “You’d still have the scepter.”

  “You can take it with you,” Tad replied without hesitation.

  The demon’s smile returned, sharp and eager. “Then I agree. Give it to me. Now.”

  “No,” I said immediately.

  Decimus’ gaze cut back to me, irritation flashing hot. I didn’t give him time to build momentum. “Urg will hold on to it,” I said. “If any of us can be trusted to keep our word, then it’s surely him, primarily because he isn’t you.”

  The demon studied us in silence, weighing risks and rewards with a predator’s instinct. I could almost hear the gears turning as he calculated odds, exits, and betrayals that would no longer be possible. At last, he inclined his head again, slower this time, more deliberate.

  “You know, I once fought Asmodeus to a standstill.” His voice had lost any trace of pomp. He almost sounded conversational. Almost human.

  I didn’t reply, waiting to see where he was going with this.

  “We both still had one foot in the primordial muck, so to speak. Neither of us were then what we are now. He has obviously grown, while I have not. It was before the split was even real. He was still just a lowly demon until he broke away and found his fascination with the law. Not truth, mind you, not order, but the simple rigidity of the law. Pathetic, really.”

  “Interesting,” was all I would give him.

  Decimus’ agreement settled into the room like a fragile ceasefire, and I didn’t waste the moment. I shifted my focus inward and reached for System Sight, letting the temporary expansion bleed fully into my awareness. The world peeled back in layers, and beneath Decimus’ physical form I finally saw the truth of his imprisonment. The scepter was not just a container. It was a web of bindings anchored in multiple planes of existence, the authority of the Fey System shaped into threads of containment, braided into an unbreakable bond.

  And then I saw the brilliance of it. There was no sprite animating this specter. The enchantment had been anchored with his own soul. Decimus was his own warden. Many a trapped beast has gnawed off its own limb to escape, but he couldn’t do that if he wanted to. A soul and a limb were far from the same thing.

  The bindings wrapped Decimus’ essence tightly, defining his existence, limiting where he could appear and how much of himself he could express. Each strand pulsed with conditional logic. If this, then that. Contingencies stacked on contingencies. It was elegant in the way only something built to hold a former prince of the Abyss could be. Breaking it outright would have set off cascading fail-safes that might have torn half the warehouse apart, and Decimus with it.

  I swallowed and steadied myself, then reached out again. “This is going to hurt,” I muttered, mostly to myself. Decimus snorted, but I ignored him. My attention slid along the bindings, identifying where authority fed into them, where Tad’s world recognized their legitimacy, and where the Fey System reinforced them simply because they had always been there.

  “Tad,” I said quietly, without looking away, “I need you with me on this.”

  “I’m here,” he replied immediately.

  I felt his authority press in, like a key sliding into the right lock. Where my System Sight could see structure, his authority gave me permission to interact with it. The resistance flared instantly, a grinding pressure behind my eyes as incompatible rules protested being touched at the same time. My vision blurred, and I tasted copper, but I didn’t back off.

  I didn’t need to break the bindings. I only had to cheat them. I needed to create a situation in which Decimus could access more of his power, but only at the time and place of our choosing.

  I wove a series of conditional threads into the existing structure, thin enough that they didn’t trigger alarms, but precise enough to matter. One hour. One release. Only when commanded by me. Only with Tad’s authority reinforcing the command. After that, the bindings would snap back into place exactly as they were, no degradation, no loopholes to exploit later.

  The Fey System resisted. This wasn’t how enchantments were made here. I was speaking Arabic in an American school and wondering why everyone was staring at me like I’d just sprouted a second head. I felt Tad strain beside me, sweat breaking out across his brow as he tried to reconcile rules that were never meant to overlap. His authority wavered once, and I felt the bindings tighten in response.