Hellbound - Chapter 6

The streets of Hell were a paradox. For a realm of eternal damnation, there was an unsettling sense of order to the chaos. Demons of every conceivable shape and size moved with purpose, their conversations a low, guttural hum that blended with the clatter of hooves on cobblestone and the rumble of beast-drawn carriages. Lucifer could see many types of demons he recognized, but just as many types he had never encountered before. He had no clue that Hell was so complicated.

Thankfully, he had Empusa as a guide. She didn’t get the carriage that she had used for them before. Perhaps, since Lilith was out, she had the carriage with her. This made Lucifer wonder if she had other servants. Exactly how far did her power go? For the moment, he decided not to focus on that. Instead, he followed Empusa, her small form weaving through the throng as he worked to keep up with her.

Whether it was his oversized clothing or the abnormality of the red-tinted world around him, he found himself bumping into someone.

“I’m sorry.” Lucifer excused himself instinctively, only to see that the man he bumped into had six eyes and was a head taller than him.

“Sorry!” The monster roared. “You nearly injured me! How are you going to repay me?”

“What?” Lucifer blinked. “I barely touched you.”

The next thing Lucifer knew, a clawed hand was reaching for him. He reached for his sword, only to realize he wasn’t carrying one. He still didn’t panic. Instead, his eyes narrowed as he began to build up energy. Just as he was about to attack, Empusa suddenly grabbed one of the claws.

“AH! What do you think you’re doing, bitch?”

“If you want repayment, I’m just making sure you’re truly injured.” Empusa declared, her hand twisting slightly.

Strangely, it was the massive creature whose face filled with pain as he looked down at the tiny girl. “S-stop?”

“Are you… truly injured? Or are you about to be?” Empusa glared up at him.

The massive creature looked fearful. “I-I’m fine. I-it was just an accident. S-sorry.”

“You should have just said so.” She let go of his claw, and he nearly stumbled back from her, eyes filled with wariness.

“Ah!” Her tiny hand grabbed his wrist and pulled, causing him to have to lean forward as she pulled him through the crowd. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving your pathetic hide,” Empusa whispered in a shockingly heavy voice. “You’re a hellbound demon now. It’s time you act like it. Everyone is out for themselves. Mercy and kindness are kinds of weakness. Do you understand? He was a level 4 demon; you’re a level one. You should know your place. Keep your head down and your eyes open. Offend no one.”

She let go of Lucifer’s wrist and stopped, spinning to look up at him with a serious look. He rubbed his wrist as he looked down on her.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.” She straightened herself up and then nodded to the building we were standing in front of. “Behold, The Guardian HQ.”

Lucifer turned to see a building that looked utterly mundane. It was a squat, rectangular structure of gray stone, completely devoid of the grand, imposing architecture that Lucifer might have expected from the forefront of Hell’s army. There was a simple glowing sign in front that said Guardian Office. Otherwise, it looked like any simple administrator’s office Lucifer had ever seen.

The cathedrals back on Earth were works of art. They were constructed with stained-glass windows, fountains, and only the finest décor that money could buy. Lucifer had always been told that these expenses were a necessity. It created confidence within the Heroes Association and induced fear among the demons. Lucifer was now starting to suspect this was another thing he had always had wrong about Earth.

He couldn’t help but recall priests and clergymen driving better cars and living like kings, all while preaching to the poor that sacrifice was necessary. The war tax was imposed on everyone, no matter how poor. Even those who became homeless would be rounded up and placed in labor camps to contribute to the cause of the preservation of Earth.

“Come on,” she said, her voice just a bit anxious. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back before the mistress becomes angry.”

Lucifer followed Empusa inside the building. She moved with surprising familiarity, as if she had entered this building countless times. Lucifer couldn’t help but look around. He knew he was no longer human, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awkwardness over finally seeing behind the curtain of the demon intel. Countless organizations had spent billions and decades to find information half as informative as what Lucifer could see right then.

Inside the building, the temperature was cooler, and the light was dimmer. The main hall was a rather simple waiting area with chairs. There were a few dozen people.  Various counters had titles written above them.

“Please take a ticket.” A voice spoke in a bored tone over a mic. “C57… that is C57.”

Empusa walked up to a small machine and then ripped off the latest number before returning to Lucifer. He couldn’t help but shake his head.

Lucifer glanced at her number. It was C82. It turned out that they were going to have a while.

“This really is hell,” Lucifer admitted, his eyes scanning the drab waiting room.

“What else did you expect?” Empusa sniffed, taking a seat. “Might as well get comfortable. This could take a while.”

Lucifer sat, the oversized clothing making him feel like a child playing dress-up. He leaned back, trying to appear casual, but he was still scoping out the environment.  That’s why he was aware of a demon that kept looking over his way. It was only a minute or so before they got up from their seat and appeared in front of him. However, he wasn’t addressing Lucifer, but Empusa.

“Well, well,” the demon spoke in a deep, gravely voice. “If it isn’t Empusa. I heard you finally hung up your guardian gear… became a lapdog to some rich demon.”

Empusa’s posture stiffened, but she didn’t look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the glowing number board. “Korg, I shouldn’t be surprised that you’ve survived until now. You always were a bottomfeeder.”

Korg’s smile faltered, replaced by a flash of anger. “Still got that attitude, I see. At least, you’re doing what you’re move fit for, babysitting pampered princesses. Is this her new pet?” He jerked a thumb toward Lucifer. “He looks a little scrawny for a guard dog. What’s the matter, your mistress couldn’t find a real demon to train?”

Although Empusa glanced his way worriedly, these words melted off Lucifer uncaringly. He had faced down a Demon King and the entire Hero Association Council. A brutish thug in a waiting room was beneath his notice. He remained silent, his expression dispassionate, his gaze fixed on a crack in the ceiling.

“Mind your own business, Korg,” Empusa said, her voice low and dangerous. “We’re just here to file some paperwork.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” Korg sneered, taking a step closer. He loomed over their chairs, his shadow engulfing them. “Not all guardians are willing to sell out for the comfy life.”

“You…” A muscle in Empusa’s jaw twitched.

Lucifer could see her hand shaking in her lap. She was clearly quite upset. She had initially wanted to avoid coming here. He thought it was because of him, but perhaps she had other reasons for avoiding the Guardian HQ.

“What else could I call you other than a sellout? Accepting money to guard a demon around hell? Anyone who can’t get by in hell without an escort doesn’t deserve to survive!”

“Don’t speak about the mistress that way!”

“Oh? Does the Bloody Imp Devil want to defend her pathetic…”

Lucifer suddenly stood up, startling both Korg and Empusa. Lucifer’s eyes met Korg’s, and for a second, Korg felt the urge to step back, a feeling that startled even him. Lucifer spoke softly to the point that Korg found himself leaning forward to hear his words.

“The thing about being a sellout… is you have to be worth something first,” Lucifer stated.

Korg blinked, but then he began to grasp that Lucifer was insulting him, and his eyes began to flash with rage.

“Listen-”

“Excuse us.” Lucifer stepped past Korg, “Our number is up.”

He blinked again, unconsciously looking only to see that the number on the board was indeed the number in Empusa’s hand.

“C82…” The woman at the counter spoke in a bored expression as if this near fight in the lobby

“You coming?” Lucifer asked, causing Empusa, who was watching all this jump in shock.

She scrambled out of her chair. “Y-yes…”

The pair walked around the dumbfounded Korg, heading up to the front. After a moment, he gave a curse and sat back down. Empusa walked up to the counter, although her eyes barely made it over.

The demoness didn’t look up. “Name and business.”

“I am here to sign up a new demon to become a Guardian,” Empusa said.

At that, the demoness finally looked up, her four hands pausing in their work. Her eyes, a startling shade of gold, lit up with genuine interest.

“Empusa, is that you? You’ve been training someone?”

Her eyes scanned Lucifer from head to toe, a professional appraisal. “He looks a bit scrawny, but knowing your techniques, I can’t say I’m surprised. Give me his level. We can test him immediately.

Empusa’s face remained neutral. She looked at Lucifer, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. He met her gaze with a steady, impassive look.

“He is… a level one,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The demoness’s smile vanished. Her golden eyes widened in disbelief. “A level one? Empusa, are you joking? You brought a level one in here to sign up to be a Guardian? That’s not just a waste of time, it’s a liability. We don’t even have a test for level ones!”

“It is not against the rules,” Lucifer interjected, his voice cold.

The demoness’s head snapped toward him, her expression hardening. “It is against common sense. A level one would be killed in seconds. The safety of our recruits is paramount.”

“Empusa!” He narrowed his eyes on Empusa as if he expected her to fix this.

“I… I… invoke the right to apprentice.” Empusa declared.

“Apprentice?” The demoness’s eyes widened.

“Wait, wait, wait…” A harsh, grating laugh erupted from behind them. “Did I hear this correctly? Empusa wants to apprentice a level 1?”

Lucifer turned to see Korg, who had been sitting right behind them, so he heard everything.

“Do I not meet the qualifications?” Empusa asked, her voice tight.

“I mean… yes… barely…” The woman looked uncertain. “You haven’t completed a mission in nearly five years.”

“Is that a requirement?” Empusa’s teeth were gritted.

“I mean… no…”

“Haahahahahaha.” Korg burst out in laughter. “This is the best thing I’ve ever heard. I know I called you a babysitter, but isn’t this cradle robbing?”

Empusa simply crossed her arms, her expression cold. “Go away, Korg. You have nothing to do with this.”

“The hell I don’t,” Korg snorted. “I’m not going to stand by and watch you make a mockery of the Guardians. This isn’t a social club, you little imp. The entire future of Hell rests on the shoulders of us Guardians, and you just want to feed them fledgling demons?”

Before Empusa could respond, Lucifer spoke up quietly. “How about a challenge then? A fight between you and me?”

The smirk vanished from Korg’s face, replaced by a flicker of surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected Lucifer to accept. He recovered quickly, his grin returning, wider and more vicious than before. Empusa grabbed Lucifer’s shirt.

“He’s a level 6! 6, do you understand that?”

“Is that all?” Lucifer asked, causing her to blink. “With how much he was talking, I was expecting him to be some kind of bigwig.”

“You’ve got guts. “Korg chuckled. “I’ll give you that. Stupid, but gutsy. What are your terms?”

“First to have three strikes.”

“Hehe, you’ll be incapacitated after one.”

“If I lose…” Lucifer continued. “I walk away and never enter the Guardian HQ again.”

“You think that’s enough for me?” Korg snorted.

“What do you want?”

“Empusa… in my party.”

“Hah? I’m not a Guardian anymore!” Empusa cried out.

“Still, I’m trying to reach level 7, and a level 8 like you will be perfect for my purposes.”

“Deal,” Lucifer responded.

“Ah, you! You don’t have that authority!”

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” Lucifer responded, back, causing her to look away bitterly. “We’ll accept, but if I win, your weapons and armor become mine.”

“If?” Korg laughed once again. “You have no chance. I’ll take your foolish bet. Take us to the training room!”

“Th-this…” The demoness behind the counter looked around like she didn’t know what to do.

After a moment, Empusa shot her a nod. “D-do it.”

She nodded and quickly fetched some keys from behind her desk. She then led them through a side door and down a long, stone corridor into a large, circular training arena. The floor was made of packed dirt, and there were various wooden dolls in the shape of humans. The walls were lined with racks of weapons and other equipment. A small group of demons had taken an interest in their conversation and followed them into the training area.

A lean demon with leathery wings and a scar across one eye sat down in one of the chairs. “He’s a level one. This is not a match; it’s a slaughter.”

“He asked for it,” Korg shrugged, grabbing a massive, iron-spiked club from a weapon rack. “I’m just giving him what he wants.”

Lucifer coldly walked to the other side’s weapon rack. Empusa followed him, her eyes locked on his form.

“Are you sure about this? Although he may not have a lot of talent, he’s been doing this for a long time. He is not an easy opponent.”

Lucifer shrugged, walking over to the weapon rack. His eyes scanned his options before selecting a simple, wooden training sword. It was light, well-balanced, and felt familiar in his hand.

“I’m sure,” he finally responded.

“A wooden sword? I guessed it when you were eyeing my weapon.” Korg put his hand on the blade at his belt. “I’ll have you know I only use it to pick my teeth.”

Lucifer walked to the center of the arena, adopting a simple guard stance. His body was weak, his level was one, but his mind, his instincts, his muscle memory… they were still that of a level sixty hero who had killed the Demon King. He had spent a lifetime fighting opponents who were larger, faster, and more powerful than him.

“Let’s get this over with,” Lucifer said.

Korg’s face twisted into one of cruelty. “Suit yourself!

He charged, his heavy footfalls shaking the dirt floor. He swung the club in a wide, horizontal arc, aiming for Lucifer’s ribs. It was a powerful, telegraphed blow, designed to crush and intimidate. It was the kind of attack a novice would make.

Lucifer didn’t try to block it. He didn’t try to parry. He waited until the last possible second, then dropped to the ground, the club whistling inches over his head. As he rolled, he used the momentum of his movement to sweep his wooden sword against Korg’s ankles.

There was a sharp crack as the wood connected with his thick bones. Korg let out a roar of surprise and pain, stumbling forward. He caught himself, turning to glare at Lucifer, his eyes burning with disbelief. The crowd of onlookers gasped.

“You little bastard!” he roared. “That was luck!”

“First strike,” Lucifer said, rising back to his feet and resuming his stance.

Korg’s face was a thundercloud of rage. He had been humiliated. He came at Lucifer again, but this time he was more cautious. He feinted high, then dropped low, swinging the club in a vicious arc toward his legs.

Lucifer was ready for it. He sidestepped the attack, the club kicking up a cloud of dust as it struck the floor where he had been standing. As Korg overcommitted, Lucifer stepped inside his guard, his wooden sword whipping up and striking him squarely on the jaw.

There was another sickening crack. Korg’s head snapped back, and he staggered, a dazed look in his eyes. He shook his head, trying to clear it, his tusks dripping with a black, viscous fluid.

“Second strike,” Lucifer said, his voice as cold and steady as a winter wind.

The arena was dead silent. The crowd of demons stared, their mouths agape. Empusa stood frozen by the entrance, her eyes watching intently.

“This isn’t over,” Korg snarled, spitting a glob of black blood onto the dirt. “If this were a real battle, you’d be dead! You can tap me to death on the field!”

He was correct. Although I was striking him, none of the strikes were powerful. They would have only caused superficial wounds, if any. This is where my confidence came from. Killing a level six was not the same as defeating them in such a challenge.  He had no technique, no finesse. It was rather easy to defeat him in terms of technique.

Lucifer met his relentless attacks with a coordinated calm. He parried and dodged in a single motion, using the momentum to fuel his next attack. His wooden sword was a blur of motion, deflecting his blows, finding the openings in his defense. Although his speed and strength were minimal, he outclassed Korg with every motion. Finally, Lucifer saw the opening. It was there for only a fraction of a second, a gap in his defense as he overextended on a wild swing. He took it. His blade struck out and hit Korg lightly on the back.

Although the strike hit, Korg spun in a sweeping motion. Lucifer realized in that moment that Korg had decided to ignore the rules. Although Lucifer had already gotten a third strike, he planned to take him out anyway.

“Lucifer!” Empusa stepped forward, but she was powerless to do anything in such a short period of time.

The club came sweeping from the side. However, instincts and skills practiced over countless years kicked in, and Lucifer’s hand glowed slightly. Instead of leaping away, he closed the distance, his blade shooting out faster than the swing of the club. The tip struck Korg’s kneecap. Korg screamed in pain as his leg gave out from under him. His knee collapsed, causing his swing to move high. As he collapsed to the ground, his iron club went flying up, and Lucifer rolled under his wide swing. He clutched his knee and screamed in a very unrefined manner.

When Lucifer finished his roll, he lashed out again.

“Enough!” a voice called out, just as his blade reached Korg’s throat.

He stopped the blade only an inch from crushing his trachea. Lucifer then pulled back and lowered his weapon.

“Third strike,” he replied coldly.