Wanderer's Game

The mood is surprisingly somber by the time morning comes. I hadn't expected it, but apparently the maids had grown to like my presence, despite how much I damaged the gardens.

I'm not entirely sure why, to be honest I thought it had something to do with keeping Serafall's attention, but I suppose if that were the case they'd sooner give me a gift basket than solemn glances. If I had to guess, they felt sympathy for me. Perhaps they thought I was being sent to the frontlines.

No, I would be going much further than that, straight into the heart of the Underworld. And yet, I feel no fear or nervousness. Only anticipation. I have the map. I have my mission. And I have my own goals.

I don't expect to have Grayfia on my side by the end of this visit. Sure, it would be nice, but I know the chances of that happening are lower than low.

I have a better plan in mind. I'd imagine it's considered exploitative, but being a Devil has skewed my moral compass slightly. The idea is simple, make sure she knows how capable of a healer I am, and make sure we have some form of friendship.

Lord Lucifuge, her father, died after exposure to Beneram Beelzebub's chimera toxin. In his last moments, Lord Lucifuge called upon both Grayfia and Sirzechs, giving them his blessing, dying shortly thereafter.

I simply need to be the one in that room instead of Sirzechs. I can save his life with a simple gesture of my hand, and from there everything should fall into place.

Either she serves me in some form of gratitude or obligation, or I bargain for her servitude with the Lord. Though it may be slightly... reprehensible, I won't deny the opportunity for such a powerful servant. I would be a fool to do so.

If I can, though, I'd at least like to spark some form of connection between us. I don't want a depressed servant, after all.

One issue of this plan though is that Lord Lucifuge's survival could have ramifications for the future beyond just this period. I've no idea the impact his presence will have on the political landscape.

And yet, it also corrects the thread of fate somewhat. Even with my meddling in the timeline, if all goes well Sirzechs Lucifer will still have a servant from the House of Lucifuge. At the very least, that has to count for something.

Another cause for concern is how everything will unfold with Ars Goetia. One of the main reasons Grayfia was able to stay under Sirzechs' care despite her actions during the war was simply how powerful he was, nobody doubted that he could keep her on a tight leash.

I do not have such a luxury, not yet at least. I've no doubt that in 6 months, I could grow just as strong as them if I were to wholeheartedly throw myself into grinding, but I may not even have six months. Thankfully, I should have at least a few avenues to ensure she remains at my side.

The main avenue is quite simple. Lord Lucifuge will still be alive, and thus Grayfia will still be a member of a house outside of Ars Goetian jurisdiction as an Extra Demon.

They can make whatever claims they want, at the end of the day she's a Vassal Clan member, answering only to the Satans.

Of course, it only makes sense that I plan to become one of the Four Great Satan's come the War's end. Not only to keep this plan going, but because the Satans are the representatives of the Devil Faction, and that means meeting powerful figures from different pantheons, which means more Companion Quests.

So far this all just a rough idea for the future. I've no doubt that at any moment, one single event could change slightly and everything would be derailed massively. So, if push comes to shove, I'll need to improvise on the spot.

It's surprising, really. Initially, the plan of having Grayfia and Serafall was a lofty ambition motivated mostly by my reincarnation in an ecchi world and my own latent greed. But now, knowing the sheer quantity of Companion Quests and their rewards, having a harem could very well be the best method of empowerment I've got.

That's enough about my plans, though. I don't often enjoy being the scheming type, despite the necessity in this current situation. All I can do now is just wait, and ironically, pray that things go well.

I wonder... If I were to pray, would Michael or one of the Archangels hear? If I recite the Lord's Prayer, would I be struck down on the spot? Ideas for the future, I suppose.

------------------------------------

I've spent the last 10 minutes waiting in the front entrance of the Sitri manor for my escort, and finally one of the maids has come to teleport me to Dis.

In the blink of an eye, the land around me shifts immensely, and I find myself rapidly missing the atmosphere of the Sitri Castle. Being here makes my skin crawl.

Dis was the closest thing to a merchant's paradise as you'd find in the Underworld. Beings from all across the Underworld gathered here to buy, sell and auction just about anything they could get their hands on before the Great War. Now, it's nothing more than a ghost town, a desolate wasteland.

The main reason for that is the glowing Spear of Sacred Light embedded in the center of the city, hundreds of feet long, plaguing the land for tens of miles around with Holy energy. Just being on the outskirts of Dis causes my skin to burn slightly, my skull aching.

From what I'd read, this spear was forged through God's Holy Light, used to impale Lucifer after he had killed the other Satans. The betrayal of Lucifer made God weep, but it didn't stop him from stabbing Lucifer so hard he fell down from Heaven again.

Ugh, just thinking that gave me a fucking migraine. Anyways, knowing what I know about this world's history, I imagine this spear houses some of the last embers of His Light. It wouldn't be too much of a heavy assumption to say that he died shortly after throwing it.

The final battle against God was held in His domain, Heaven. Takes a lot of arrogance to fight the Big Man in his own fucking home, and Lucifer had that in spades. Yet, surely even he knew it was suicide to enter Heaven.

Had he willingly brought his fellow Satans to their deaths, or did he really believe he stood a chance? I suppose I can never know.

According to the history books, Lucifer died with a smile on his face, surrounded by his family and friends with the blood of a hundred thousand angels on his hands. I imagine he died in agony, burned alive by Holy Light from the inside out, utterly alone.

I don't notice for a few moments that the maid that had been with me is already gone, having left as soon as she could. I don't blame her, I hate being here myself, stuck wondering about the sordid history of this place. Thankfully for me, a few minutes after she vanished the carriage arrives.

The word carriage is used lightly, as there's no horses attached. Instead, it's being drawn by a native animal of the Underworld, a Korranar, a disturbing mix of a bear and a goat. They're the perfect size for drawing a carriage, as well as the perfect size to maul a man to death.

"Alistair Mammon?" The driver asks me, his lip turning slightly at my name as he speaks it aloud. The driver himself looks quite young with long unkempt hair and dirty skin. I wouldn't be surprised to hear he's younger than me.

"Yes, that's me. And you are?" I ask, hopping atop the carriage and taking a seat alongside him.

He blinks in confusion, eyes darting to the back where a much more comfortable and closed off seat is, before seemingly giving up on that line of thought.

He offers me a handshake, perhaps the most civil introduction I've had since I arrived here, alongside a beaming smile.

"Corvo. Where are you looking to go?" Firmly, I shake his hand and make myself comfortable, leaning back and crossing my arms.

"Lucifaad. I've heard several calls for those adept with Healing magic from the House of Lucifuge, and I figured it's better business than travelling place to place for some work." Corvo grimaces, as if he knows something I don't, before he sends the Korranar forward and speaks once more.

"Listen, you didn't hear this from me but apparently there's been some weird shit going down with that family." Oh? How intriguing.

"Would you mind elaborating?" He shakes his head, as if the details elude him.

"Nothing concrete. Just some suspicions on my part. At the end of the day, it ain't my place to ask questions, it's just... us lesser folk, we gotta look out for eachother, you know?" He smiles, as if I'm now not worried for my safety even more, and pats my shoulder.

"You still haven't explained those suspicions of yours, Corvo." He laughs my words off, instead shaking his head and changing the subject. He seems almost nervous thinking about it.

"Forget that. I'm more interested in you. You're a wanderer, but you've got those fancy clothes and a surname? Helluva luxury, don't you think?" He's unwilling to talk further. I'll have to try and broach the subject later.

"The clothes aren't mine. And the name? I chose it myself." Corvo laughs heartily at that.

"No wonder you got such a fancy-pants name then! You thought you it'd make you sound High Class!" He laughs and takes a sip from a flask hidden within his vest, his clothes being far more scuffed and stained than I'd initially noticed.

"It was never about sounding fancy. I chose the name because I like what it represents." Corvo just gives me a side eye while he talks.

"I can respect that. Gotta say though, most of us folk don't have that luxury, choosing our names. You must be a special type if you can read and write. Or maybe you still got family left to help you, tell you what it means." He's probing too much. He could just be making small talk, but his aversion to my own questions makes me worried.

To try and stave off his interrogation temporarily I summon Death's Cradle at my side, the appearance of the white coffin stunning the man somewhat, though he quickly understands the meaning. I make sure to dismiss it just as quickly, before the spectral thorns slip out and try to stab me.

"Ah. My condolences." Nothing more comes out after that, as if he doesn't know how to continue the conversation. I decide to do it for him.

"You called me a wanderer earlier, like it was some title. Do you mind elaborating?" Corvo looks surprised that I don't know, but he doesn't shy away from explaining thankfully.

"It means those who have nothing. No land, no family, no place to call home. The lowest of the low-class. We wander from city to city, hoping for some work to afford food and drink for the next journey." He scowls and keeps his eyes glued ahead, our speed never once dropping. I fit the description far more than I'd like.

"Some of us don't got nothing special about us. No outstanding Mana reserves, no special 'clan traits' like those fucks in Ars Goetia. Just poor bastards, who can't even fly properly cause they got broken wings." The venom in his tone isn't hard to miss, nor is the white-knuckled grip he has over the Korranar's reins. It doesn't take a genius to see he is one of those poor bastards.

"A lot of wanderers tried to make a living among those Humans, but most of them never come back. Fucking animals." He blinks, as if realising something then sends an apologetic glance my way. "No offense, man." He adds, hastily.

I don't blame him. It's only, what, 1400 AD? Humankind is pretty fucked up morally. Still, there's more he isn't telling me.

"None taken. Still, you sound like you're quite mad at the way things are in the Underworld. You should take up those complaints with the Satans." Corvo sighs.

"That's a fools game. They'll never listen, they're too busy fantasising about taking Heaven. Those inbred fucks could never understand what it's like." He's certainly the passionate type.

"Careful, Corvo. If someone hears you saying that you'll be executed. Hell, I'll be executed just for letting you say it. Treason is no joke." The bait. Depending on his response, I may have found someone useful to me. His eyes flicker to me, and I see no fear.

After all, If I am to become a Satan I need to be connected to my people. What better way to do that than to have a representative from the dregs of society to help me understand their woes?

"You didn't say I was wrong... you just said I should be careful. If you were with them, that'd mean I'd be dead." His smile grows tenfold, he doesn't think for a second that I was baiting this reaction out of him, that I could have been setting him up.

"You're Anti-Satan too! Oh, man this is great! Say, do you think I could help fight the good fight? I ain't got the Power of Destruction or the Kankara Formula, but I wanna help any way I can!" I can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. It's damn near infectious. Working around Lucifaad, he must not get to see many Anti-Satan supporters.

"All it takes to change history is the right man in the right place. Who knows? You could end up being that man, Corvo." He smiles giddily, daydreaming briefly. The conversation stops for a while after that.

I'm left thinking about Corvo's words. About what life must be like for those Devils forgotten by the Underworld, those with nothing but rags. I only hope one day I can help them, in some way. I hope I can help many people in my life with these powers.

There are few things about my father that I still remember. It's been years now since he died, and yet his last words to me still come to my mind now and again.

"The world is cruel." He rasped out, hands desperately clutching my own for some form of comfort, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. He was afraid.

"People are cruel." We can't even bear to look at him. His features are gaunt, his face hollow and pale. He looks like a shadow of the man he once was. Yet still, he gazes upon us all with unending love.

"So be better. Be good. Make me proud." Every rasp is a herculean effort. I imagine he would have far more to say if he were capable.

I don't like thinking about my father ever since I reincarnated. I don't know if he'll be proud of the things I've done. But I still try my best to abide by his words. That has to count for something, right?

[I'm certain he would still love you, User. Just as any father should.]

Unwilling to contend with that thought any longer, I let my eyes close and sleep away the rest of the journey.

------------------------------------

My sleep is interrupted rudely by Corvo violently shoving my shoulder around, his tone urgent and pleading.

"Alistair, Ali please, please wake up." He whispers the words, his earlier confidence and bravado now utterly destroyed. When I open my eyes, I see what the problem is. We seem to be getting robbed.

"Excuse me! You look like you've got quite a lot of Sol in your pockets. I'll be taking it all. And the Korranar. Get the fuck off the carriage." 3 Devils, kitted out in the regalia of the Satan's Army stand ahead of us in the road.

Corvo stands atop the carriage, his hands held in the air away from any pockets. The Devils each have a sword and some form of magic at the ready as they approach.

We must be close to Lucifaad, since they aren't wearing proper armour, only garb. Perhaps they're officers on a break, perhaps they work in logistics. Either way, they are a problem.

If I had to guess, Sol is more than likely the currency of Hell, perhaps in reference to King Solomon. And they want to rob me for all I have.

I'd say I don't know why they're doing this, but the economy hasn't been in the best place for a good 100 years now. Korranar's sell for a pretty price too. Lots of meat, lots of utility. Guess the Satan's payroll isn't good enough... actually, maybe I'm looking at it from the wrong angle.

"Didn't you hear, you half-breed sack of shit? I said get the fuck off the carriage. You really wanna make me repeat myself?" Ah. I see. It isn't just about the money, they also want to ruin my day. Punish me for circumstances out of my control. Annoying.

Can I risk killing them so close to the capital? I can almost see the walls of Lucifaad on the horizon, would someone be attracted to the conflict?

"I think he's shocked. Maybe he thought he could get away with coming round these parts. Lareli, Maredin, go bring them here." Corvo looks at me, fear in his eyes. Resignation, acceptance.

This bright eyed young man, so willing to fight for his people, now reduced to a scared wreck as he watches what remains of his life be torn away. I can't just sit here and let it happen. I turn and drop down from the carriage, a smile on my face and arms raised high.

"Apologies, gentlemen. I've been a bit scatterbrained as of late. Travelling these roads have been quite dangerous." As I pass the Korranar, I give it a pat on the head. It nuzzles into my palm softly.

A quick cast of Wandering Eye tells me all I need to know about this encounter.

Lareli: Level 22

Maredin: Level 32

Trinofa Decarabia: Level 49

Clearly there's a hierarchy. A Clan Devil, all for me? You shouldn't have. I continue walking forward, never lowering my hands. They snicker among themselves.

"There's a good little halfie. Now, tell your friend to get off the carriage too and we'll be happy." He raises the sword as if to threaten me.

I'm close enough, now. Each Devil stands within 15 feet of me, yet still I move closer. My best weapon at the moment is how little they think of me. Despite my bravado, one of them is a higher level than me, I need to exercise some level of caution. I also want to experiment.

Before I can go any further, Trinofa steps forward and throws a punch that drops me to the floor, my arms harshly colliding with the dirt and grass. He moves in quickly thereafter, grabbing me by the head and pulling me up to show Corvo.

-51HP!

Corvo quakes in fear, and I do my best to show him this is in the plan, though it's hard to do so with a blood-stained mouth. Fucker made me bite down on my tongue. My smile only makes him shake more as he slowly drops from the carriage.

"There you go. Fucking idiots think they can get away with anything these days, I swear." There's a surprising degree of arrogance in his voice, considering he's robbing peasants. Oh well.

"Gentlemen, can we not talk about this like civilised folk?" The Devils around me laugh, and Trinofa joins in heartily, clearly amused by the prospect. Good.

Their lack of awareness lasts long enough for me to break free of his grasp and summon the Harbinger, grabbing him by the neck and placing the folded blade against his chest, barrels harshly poking into his temple.

His eyes flare in indignation. He doesn't have time to scream or shout before I pull the trigger twice and watch as his skull is pulverised in an instant, his eyes now absent from my line of sight. Anything that survived the first shot is turned into a fine mist after the second.

The experiment was a success. The Harbinger is an utterly diabolical weapon.

230EXP!

Level Up x2! (40/90)

Calmly, I turn around to see Lareli and Maredin having lost their focus, the mana in their systems losing potency, spells unable to fire. They gaze upon me like I'm some beast, where seconds ago they looked at me like I was vermin.

I suppose they haven't seen a gun before. Corvo seems to be shaking, having fallen back to his seat.

"I apologise for the display, Corvo. But they brought this on themselves." Lareli tries to mutter some form of apology, the words never forming proper sentences as he babbles incoherently.

I raise the Harbinger high, preparing to remove this Devil's head from his body, but I notice something, in the corner of my eye. A bee.

A bee that flies unnaturally. Paranoia overwhelming me, I cast Wandering Eye and feel my stomach pool with dread. I realise here and now that I may just have failed the mission spectacularly before even reaching Lucifaad.

Drone of Beelzebub: Level 1

Closer. The bee keeps moving closer. It can't attack me, so what is the plan? Does it want to engrave my features in it's memory? Send a message?

Far too late I realise what the real plan was, as the bee is replaced instantaneously by the towering figure of Bidleid Beelzebub.

His armour is adorned with medals and scratches, so black that it absorbs the light around it, brown hair cascading down the back of his chestplate. His form is taller and more brawn than I had expected, and his red eyes glare into my own with an odd mix of respect and disdain.

His fist soon occupies my field of vision, and everything goes dark.