The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

The General of the Legion of Torment was one scary demon.

His anger coursed through the air, seeping into the bones of his troops and constricting our lungs. It was difficult to stay upright in his presence, let alone move or think.

So I was more than a little impressed when Wilhelmina’s aide managed to walk up to Naberius and speak calmly.

"Our commander had us set out shortly after troop designation was over. We collected our supplies, and then…"

The aide had a dry, plain quality to his voice that made it slightly hypnotic. I couldn’t feel any mana emanating from him, or any changes in my own mana’s circulation, so I had to assume it was just his personal charisma at work.

Whatever it was, it also seemed to work on the general. The terrifying demon slowly relaxed throughout the aide’s long-winded report on everything the troop did after departing from Fortress City 12. He didn’t get any happier, but he also didn’t look like he was about to rip all of our heads off. That was an improvement.

He did briefly seem like he would still kill us all, when the aide revealed that one of the city’s mages had managed to send out a magical message before being slaughtered.

When the story finally wound down, Naberius looked at our demoness leader with such obvious distaste that everyone flinched, as if ashamed to be associated with her in any way.

"So, let’s see if I got this straight. You left Fortress City 12 immediately, despite the fact that you were ordered to hold for a unified sortie. You razed every village between your starting point and this… city, despite the fact that it’s common protocol not to touch small communities. And finally, you slaughtered everyone in this city, did not acquire any useful intelligence, and let them communicate to the rest of the kingdom that they’re definitely under active invasion."

"I— We had a bet, for who’d be the first to claim a city for themselves, and the villages are going to be useless anyway! And —"

Wilhelmina was panicking, and hard. I couldn’t blame her, not with the empty expression on the general’s face.

A slap rang out, and the demoness bent over, stumbling. Several teeth and a copious amount of blood came gushing out of her mouth.

"Useless?" he spat. "That hasn’t been decided yet. I know you passed your briefing with flying colors. Therefore, I know you were informed that small communities are always to be left alone in an invasion. Whatever we end up doing with a world in the end doesn’t change that protocol, not that this world’s ultimate fate has even been decided yet!"

The demoness looked up at him piteously, but Naberius was apparently immune to puppy eyes.

"And this… bet. Out of all the horrible, convoluted reasons someone could have for risking their hide and disobeying orders, this has to be the most stupid one!"

"But, I’m not the only one to blame! My sister made the bet with me!" At this point, Wilhelmina was literally whining, and while her ability to recover was impressive, her intelligence was apparently not.

The general scowled. "Your sister would have been punished alongside you, if she hadn’t immediately reported your insolence to me. She approached me immediately after the troop designation ceremony, but had to wait until I wrapped up an important meeting. In that time, you somehow managed to leave, and have been unreachable by scrying or any other means of communication. Why?"

"I didn’t want anyone to distract me," Wilhelmina admitted quietly, no longer able to look Naberius in the eye.

My attention, however, was fixed on her sister. It was extremely brief, so brief I might have imagined it, but for a moment, I could have sworn I caught sight of a smirk on the other woman’s lips. It was a vicious, self-satisfying expression, and it sent chills down my spine.

I looked away from her then, afraid she’d catch me staring again like on the day of my designation. Suddenly, I was glad to be under Wilhelmina instead of her scheming sister.

"I… genuinely don’t know what to say." Naberius stared at the demoness sergeant, more volatile emotions giving way to resignation. "I assumed your lineage would leave you with some misconceptions about ’acceptable’ behavior, but I did not think it would be this extreme."

That made Wilhelmina curl in on herself even further.

"It was a major victory for us when you decided to sign on, but even that’s not enough to protect you in this instance. Sergeant Wilhelmina, you are hereby stripped of your rank until you prove you can be trusted in a position of command. Newly promoted Sergeant Glaustro will be taking your place."

Naberius motioned at the other demon that had accompanied him. The man stepped forward, letting his mace crash loudly on the stone pavement as he swept his eyes over the assembled troops.

His troops now.

Unfortunately, that was the moment I recognized him. I missed it at first, seeing as his red skin, large horns, and classic demon tail were a fairly common ’default’ look for his species. He was also a lot cleaner than before. But that weapon, and the general lack of serious clothing… yeah, there was no mistaking him.

This was the demon who had complained loudly about my presence at the Apple Infernal inn.

I fought down the urge to groan or react in any way. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me. I was just another human face in the crowd. I just needed to not do anything that would draw attention to myself.

"It is an honor to be put in charge of such… efficient troops," the inn demon rumbled, a smirk stretching his features into a cruel mask. "I’ll make sure your enthusiasm is better directed in the future."

Naberius nodded at that, then swept one last look over everyone. "I’ve wasted enough time here. Glaustro, you have your orders. Make sure you actually follow them."

With that, the general turned around and laid a hand on the obelisk. Another portal opened with a hum. The general herded the sisters through it first before following himself.

Then we were alone with our new commander.

"Well?" Sergeant Glaustro’s smirk didn’t waver. "Don’t just stand there! Go celebrate, rest, train, whatever! You have three days. Two for the other troops to catch up to your progress, and another for the whole invasion force to organize the next push. Use the time wisely. Or at least as wisely as you can. You are dismissed."

Somehow, I knew exactly who he was disparaging with that last comment before our dismissal. Every time his gaze landed on a human recruit, his nostrils flared with disgust.

Still, he hadn’t noticed me yet. I hurried out of the marketplace. If I could get into the newly altered city, stay out of sight…

Just as I reached the edge, relief coursing through my veins, I glanced back. From across the square, Sergeant Glaustro’s disapproving eyes locked on mine.

Relief turned to ice in my chest. Then a hand came down hard on my left shoulder.

I squeaked and whirled around, expecting instant death-by-mace, only to find myself facing a frowning Bronwynn.

"What in all the layers of the Abyss happened to you, kid?"

I pulled him into a side street and looked around hurriedly, confirming that neither our new commander nor the demon who had cooked me alive were around. Only then did I relax.

"Had a bit of a run-in with fire," I confessed. "I might have killed a mage when they were distracted by a demon attacking their troop?"

The pink demon sighed, closing his eyes briefly. "You stole a mage’s soul from a demon? Why did you think that was a good idea, you idiotic child?"

I winced, but said nothing to justify myself. How could I properly explain the panic spreading through my chest at the thought of being left behind, unable to progress or achieve anything, while still being thrown into bigger and riskier battlefields?

He was a demon. By his very nature, Bronwynn could not die until he was slain within the Abyss. For him, this was a light excursion where he could accrue more souls and grow safely, with very few long-term negative repercussions. How could I expect him to understand?

"Forget it," he snapped. "I can tell you’re thinking something stupid. Just… keep your mouth shut, and follow."

He turned away from me and began stalking angrily down the street. Bewildered, I trailed after him.

I had no clue what he wanted, or why he was bothering with me at all. However, I had noted one small change in our interactions. Somewhere along the line, I’d gone from being a ’mortal’ to a ’kid.’

I couldn’t let myself think that the demon actually liked me. I literally couldn’t. In a very real way, insecurity and fear prevented me from trusting him fully. Still, as he muttered angrily about mortal recklessness, I found myself softening that stance for the first time.

Even as he walked and complained, Bronwynn kept a close eye on our surroundings and the unfamiliar stores that now dotted the city. Just like before, demonic businesses were suddenly everywhere, already promoting their wares.

The demon finally paused when we arrived in front of ’Gale’s Emporium of Salves’ and barged into the shop. A beat later, he ducked his head back out and glared at me.

I followed him inside the second time.

It was a small, musty shop. Shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of every shape and size imaginable. I let my eyes trail over the jars as Bronwynn spoke to the shop owner, mostly tuning them out. I was exhausted and ready to collapse, but a part of me wondered if I could even fall asleep in my condition. Now that excitement and fear weren’t racing through me, it was getting harder to ignore the burning pain again.

It was a constant presence, and I was beginning to wonder if it would ever end. Suffering seemed part of my very being. It always had been, and likely always would be.

Then Bronwynn was next to me again, hand solidly on my back as he pushed me out of the store. This time, when he started walking, he was far more sure of himself.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

The question bubbled up on its own. My mind was too worn out to put a lid on my mouth.

"Just shut up and walk," was the demon’s eloquent answer.

At least I didn’t have to wait long for my answer. Not even five minutes later, Bronwynn grabbed the front of my armor and dragged me into a large building.

It was a two-story affair, with large glass windows covered by thick curtains. The sign out front identified it as ’The Flighty Lover’ but it wasn’t until my demonic minder started chatting with a guy behind a bar counter that I realized the place was an inn. A thought about the inn’s name and the circumstances I was in ran through my mind before I shoved it down.

With a set of keys secured, Bronwynn led me up a flight of stairs to the second floor, then hunted down a pair of rooms directly opposite each other. He opened one of them, threw his stuff inside, then dragged me into the other.

It was nowhere near as nice as the Apple Infernal, but the room was clean and warm, and it came with a small bathroom attached. The demon took me there next.

That was when I started feeling concerned.

"Right." Bronwynn nodded briskly. "No easy way to say it. This is going to hurt."

The demon raised his hand. My eyes widened as claws popped out of his fingers. They looked wickedly sharp, and I definitely wanted to have nothing to do with them.

I took a step back, only to bump into the sink.

"Um, what’s going to hurt?" I asked lamely.

"Your arms? We need to do something about the… mess." He gestured vaguely, forcing me to look at them again.

"Oh."

There was still much to talk about with what was about to happen, but the demon clearly didn’t need to explain himself. He just gripped my left wrist and placed it over the sink.

What followed wasn’t pretty, or painless. Bits of the leather shirt that my limited plate armor was attached to had fused to my skin. Not even I could begin to guess where the shirt ended and I began.

As such, Bronwynn’s work more closely resembled that of a butcher than a doctor. He worked ruthlessly, removing not only the leather-bits but also lots of my actual skin that had been burned into charcoal. There was nausea, there was blood, and there was a lot of whimpering. But when the demon was done, the wounds did look a little better.

Then he pulled out a jar he must have purchased at Gale’s Emporium of Salves and unscrewed it. It was filled with a pale green cream that smelled strongly of herbs. And I mean strongly. The smell was so cloying, I fought the urge to gag.

I stopped caring about it the second the cream touched my burns.

A blessed chill took hold of my arm, spreading numbness all throughout the limb. The demon didn’t stop until I was absolutely slathered in the stuff and every inch of my burns was covered. Even then, the jar was still about half-full. I stood there, savoring the relief.

My mind was still too weary to act as a filter. I looked from the demon to the jar, and back again, and then the question slipped out before I could stop it.

"Why?"