A Devil stood on a rock in a barren, gray wasteland. He had just stumbled through the Door 999 portal that led to the surface of the Underworld and dashed through, narrowly escaping the grasps of his captors. And now, he was here.
He glanced back. The square of black that the portal had opened up had already closed behind him, not even a second after he’d come through. Seemed like nobody was keen on chasing him out here.
Blood dripped from his shoulder onto the stone beneath his feet. He’d ripped off his entire left arm to get out of that Nefarior’s grip, and now he was left with nothing but a tiny stump at the end of his shoulder with pain radiating through it.
He took a shaky breath, trying to calm his still racing mind.
“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, louder, “Fuck! Fucking bitch!”
He gripped his remaining hand into a fist, face twisted in anger. If his damned superior hadn’t done all of this, he would’ve…Well, he would’ve at least been better off. He would’ve had a better life. Not that his old life had been all that great, he supposed—he seemed like he’d been practically brainwashed back then, from his current perspective—but it would’ve been normal, at least. At least he would’ve still had his fucking position, a modicum of respect, his fucking arm!
He fell to his knees and slammed his fist into the stony ground. It cracked beneath the force.
“I fucking hate you!”
He punched the ground again.
“You moronic jackass! Why couldn’t you just see…”He lifted his fist again to slam it into the ground—being forced to lift up his entire body to do so, as he couldn’t support himself on his nonexistent left arm—and stopped, kneeling upright and gazing into the horizon.
“You just can’t fucking see, I guess,” he muttered. “That’s why. You’re fucking blind. You, and everyone else above me. And everyone else above you. You can’t see how fucking miserable this place is. Well fuck you all, I’m leaving.”
He got to his feet, and began to walk.
It took many hours of walking in a straight line before the Devil decided to take a break. The open sky had kept him company on his stroll through the empty fields of rock, with him looking out at the stars and other bodies floating above him. Though, most of his attention had been captured by the Overworld, slowly flying by above his head. Its bright blue coloring was just so mesmerizing.
He wondered what was happening now. Was Arlan Nota dead? What about those allies of his? The other Human, and that Nymph thing. He vaguely recalled injuring the woman, but couldn’t remember if the damage had been fatal or not. Human bodies were so fragile, it was impossible to tell if something would actually end up killing someone. And he’d been unconscious too soon afterward to see if she’d died of the blood loss.
He wondered about his own Human subordinates—those VIP assistants. He wondered about the kingdom he’d taken over. He wondered about the Overworld. It somehow felt so chaotic and so serene at the same time there. Like there was anarchy flooding through the streets, each individual taking orders from nobody, but at the same time, the people there just seemed to take so many breaks. Where were they getting all of that free time? He tried to think back on his memories of when he’d been there to see if he could figure out the secret, but he’d been working so hard back then, his mind had simply not picked up on the details. And now he’d never know.
The Devil wondered how long it would take for him to walk all the way around the circumference of the Underworld. He had no frame of reference for the amount of time a task like that would actually take. Would it be a matter of hours? Days? Years? Perhaps that would be what he’d do up here. Just keep walking and hope that one day he’d see something interesting. Perhaps that was his purpose now—keep walking in circles and hope.
It took a long time for something interesting to happen. He had the ability to keep track of time passing now by watching the sun and the Overworld pass in the sky, but he didn’t actually know what amount of time each movement translated to. Did the Overworld setting on the horizon mean a day had passed? What about when the sun disappeared behind it? He didn’t know, but enough revolutions of each type had happened that he knew—whatever meant a day, several had passed.
He had, for the most part, just been walking this whole time. Other than brief stops to rest, he simply walked. Occasionally, he wondered if he should stop for good and find a place to set up. He’d been here before, and last time he’d occupied himself by making little pieces of artwork with the stones. But this time, he just didn’t think something that simple would suffice.
He wanted something more. Last time, that work to find something greater had been what led him to the art pieces. So maybe, if he kept looking, he’d find something this time, too. He had nothing but time, after all. Why not waste some? He wasn’t forced to be perfectly efficient anymore, and there was something to be enjoyed in the act of simply being unproductive. Not just taking a break, but doing something that was completely pointless.
It was while doing that task, walking in a meaningless direction with the Overworld positioned directly above his head, that something peculiar happened.
He felt a strange sensation in his mind, like a pinging—some sort of signal reaching out, looking for someone, and finding him. The signal bounced off his mind, and returned to its owner. And then…
You are being summoned. Beginning transference…
He blinked, re-reading the strange notification. Was…did his superiors have some method to bring him back?! Panic flooded his mind. If he had to go back to the Seventh Circle…
He couldn’t. No fucking way. Hurriedly, he dropped to the ground and grabbed a large stone with his one good hand. He lifted it into the air, and then slammed it directly into his face.
591 damage.
He brought it back and hit it against his head again.
204 damage. The stone broke on impact, shattering into dust.
He fell back to the ground, searching for a new one, but blood from his forehead was seeping into his eyes, blurring his vision.
The notification in his mind changed.
Transference is taking longer than expected. Please wait…
Perfect. He had no idea what the fuck was going on, but apparently it wasn’t going smoothly. That meant more time. He couldn’t allow himself to go back there, in that fucking cage.
If he had no rock to slam into his skull, he’d just slam his skull into the rock. Leaning back, the Devil grunted in preparation, and then threw himself forward as hard as he could, smashing his head and face into the stone ground. He could feel the ground crumble beneath him. A couple thousand more damage. Not enough, not enough, not enough!
He pulled back, and did it again. The stone was turned to gravel from the impact. Still not enough damage.
From pure rage and frustration, the Devil let out a scream as he pulled his head back once more. He could not let this happen! Never!
Just before he threw his skull into the stone one last time, he got another notification.
Insufficient power.
Due to distance required to travel, transference cannot power itself.
He stopped.
Oh.
It…wasn’t happening? That seemed to be what the notification was saying. Whatever this transference was, it couldn’t ‘power itself,’ which certainly seemed to mean it was being shut off. So…he wasn’t going back, then.
He sighed and flopped to the ground. Blood still covered his face, his head ached like nothing else, and he couldn’t see a thing. He was breathing heavily, soft gasps of air pushed through his mouth.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I…really don’t wanna go back there, huh.”
He’d barely even realized how badly he despised the concept of being sent back to his old home. Just a few circles down, and he’d be back in hell. He couldn’t imagine feeling anything but pain down there, at this point.
He frowned, looking back at the notification he’d gotten. “Due to the distance required,” huh? What did that mean? Was it really that far from here to the Seventh Circle? He didn’t think teleportation like that would be so impossible. And…he’d never heard of something like that be referred to as a “summoning” before. In fact, the only time he’d heard of the System calling something a “summoning” was…
Insufficient power.
Rather than self-power, summoning will utilize subject power.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Draining Mana to power summoning…
He looked at the newest notification, feeling the distinct sensation of something draining from his mind. It was stealing his Mana to power this summoning thing!
Insufficient power.
Mana is 0.
Draining Stamina to power summoning…
Suddenly, the Devil felt himself growing extremely tired as his Stamina began bottoming out, as well. It was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Within seconds, he was lying flat on the ground, unable to move. Paralyzed.
Insufficient power.
Mana is 0.
Stamina is 0.
Draining Health to power summoning…
That sent his eyes wide. If it’d bottomed out his Mana and Stamina, then would it just fucking kill him by draining all of his Health?! What was even going on? He had no idea who was even doing this! Unable to do anything to protect himself, he watched as his Health quickly ticked down, reaching the triple digits, then the double digits, passing through the single digits in a flash, and then…
Insufficient power.
Mana is 0.
Stamina is 0.
Health is 1.
Draining Levels to power summoning…
That sent his eyes even wider than before. No way it could…
But sure enough, he saw his Status tick down. His Level, XP, Stats, everything suddenly decreased. Level 61 to 60, to 59, 58, 57…
The Levels ticked down more and more quickly, and he began to see things disappear right from his own Status. Spells and Talents, erasing themselves like they were never there. His Level hit 55. Then 50. 45. 40. 30.
He gasped for breath as he felt his own capabilities stolen from him.
20.
He could feel his physical power shrinking, his limbs borderline incapable of exerting force, his senses dulled, his skin raw, as though he’d been dipped in a bath of acid.
10.
He could feel his mind shrinking, as well. Things that he could once do, now alien. He suddenly felt as though he’d simply forgotten the method by which he used to set people aflame with a simple snap. He was…mundane.
5.
He couldn’t breathe. What was happening? What was he turning into?!
4.
He…
3.
Was…
2.
Nothing.
Mana is 0.
Stamina is 0.
Health is 1.
Level is 1.
Power requirement fulfilled.
Continuing transference…
He could do nothing but blink as he saw the new notification come through.
“Level is 1.”
But he could hardly even pay attention to that, because now this “transference” was being continued. And he’d be taken to…wherever he was being taken to.
It only took a few seconds, but quite a lot of things ran through the Devil’s mind during those few seconds. His mind was operating at an hour a minute, so even that long stretched out into an eternity. And the dominating thought during that immortal moment was:
What in the actual fuck?!
He got his answer with the next notification.
At least, he sort of did.
Transference finished. Bringing Level 1 Devil to Overworld.
A Devil lay on the floor of a damp, dark room.
Only, this floor was made of wood, not the all-too-familiar stone of the Underworld. And the room didn’t just house a simple desk and nothing else, it was full of…things. He didn’t know what most of it was, and his bleary vision and horrific headache did nothing to help identify the objects, but it was certainly more cluttered than any space in the entire Seventh Circle. Which could only mean one thing.
He blinked and wearily turned his head to the side, being forced to shift his entire body to do so. He had apparently regenerated a modicum of Stamina during this “transference,” so he could at least move slightly to look at his surroundings.
And, sure enough, standing over him was a real, flesh-and-blood Human.
She stared at him with a look of shock and awe. She was frozen in place, eyes wide, and hands shaking like she had no idea what to do with them.
“What…” the Devil groaned. “What…the fuck…have you done to me?”
She began breathing quickly, like his words knocked her out of her stupor. Taking a step back, she closed her eyes for a brief moment to compose herself, and then stuttered out, “D-don’t move.”
Suddenly, the Devil’s entire body froze, like he was paralyzed. Only, it wasn’t like he was paralyzed, because in that case he’d have gone limp. Here, it was like his muscles froze exactly where they were, his slightly tilted head still tilted in the same way, his arm still barely propping him up. His muscles worked, they just weren’t under his control. He couldn’t even breathe. Which was a problem, considering his suddenly powered-down state.
The Human quickly turned to a table sitting next to her, which the Devil could now identify was covered in books. She grabbed one and quickly threw it open, flipping frantically through the pages. The Devil tried to blink and clear his eyes so he could read the title, only to realize he literally couldn’t move his eyelids.
She stopped on a page and scanned through it for a moment, then looked back to him. “O-okay, so, uh, you may breathe, blink, and move your mouth.”
Instantly, it was like the locks on those body parts had been lifted. He took a gasp of a breath into his lungs, and looked up at the woman. She was obviously unsure of herself, but the overwhelming emotion painting her face was excitement. At this point, she was already staring down at the book again, muttering to herself.
“Okay, okay…So, we can get to those commands later…but the main one they said during the initial summoning was…” She looked back over to the Devil, speaking in that commanding tone once again. “Tell me your intentions regarding me, this place, and Humanity as a whole.”
The Devil’s mind moved quickly and efficiently, instantly working to find answers to those questions in himself. He didn’t even have a chance to try to understand why he was trying to answer them. The moment he knew what they were, he spoke. “I do not know, I do not know, and I do not know.”
She frowned at him for a moment, as did he frown at himself. What the fuck had just happened?
The woman had her nose buried back in her book again, flipping through the pages.
“Did any of them ever answer with something like that?” she muttered.
The Devil decided he wouldn’t get any answers just lying there. So he spoke. “I’m in the Overworld, right? You summoned me here?”
She glanced over at him, still muttering. “I suppose it might be confused. If it doesn’t know where it is or what its situation is, it wouldn’t be capable of forming plans in the same way the Demons of old did, maybe? I suppose they would be more familiar with this type of situation.”
“And what’s this Spell you have active on me?” the Devil asked. “Why do I feel compelled to do what you say?”
She took a breath before turning her body fully toward him, taking a proper stance. “I…I am your summoner, yes. You are currently in the Overworld, in a place called the Barinruth Empire.”
Barinruth…? Why did he recognize that name?
“You are under my command because I am your summoner,” she continued, seeming to fall more and more into a comfortable role as she spoke. “No matter your previous situation, you are now beneath me, and you must always do what I say. You live to serve me. I am aware that you may find this jarring or uncomfortable, but do be aware that I will treat you well and with care, as long as you treat me with respect and follow my orders cleanly. My name is Aliss. Tell me yours.”
“I don’t have a name,” the Devil answered automatically.
“Hm, that won’t do. I have to call you something. Would you like me to give you a name?”
“I…I want to name myself.”
“Oh? I thought…” she flipped through the book as she spoke, “I thought Demons didn’t name themselves. Isn’t there some sort of ceremony given to naming? They denote respect, and are given to one another by tribe elders, correct?”
“Tribe elders? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, dear,” she said, looking genuinely distraught, “is this source unreliable? I really thought it was good.”
“I…Listen,” the Devil said. His mind was still a jumbled mess in such a strange situation. “You said I’m in a place called Barinruth, right?”
“Yes, you are. Oh, do you know Overworld locations? I would love to hear what the Demons’ perception of the Overworld is, and how you’ve learned what you know. Uh, give me one second, I just need to get a piece of notepaper…”
The Devil was kept from speaking for exactly one second because of her command before it faded away and he was able to talk again, watching the woman rustle around on the various desks that’d been scooted out of the way to make room in the center of the floor.
“Just…” He took a breath, still trying to get used to his depowered body. “You’re familiar with the Koinkar Kingdom?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Are you connected with the invasion?”
“I am,” he was forced to say before continuing his own line of questioning. “Are we near a mountain range called Kingdom’s Edge, right now?”
She frowned. “Um…Oh, you mean Empire’s Edge?”
“Maybe. Are we?”
“Yes. Why do you want to know?”
This time, the Devil was compelled to answer with exactly what he was planning to say in the first place. “I want to know if you’re familiar with a man named Arlan Nota.”