I had expected another dramatic gathering in the general's favored square. Perhaps a bit of dramatics. Another few public punishments. An execution? Why not! There were definitely a few suspicious things that had happened towards the end of the invasion. I wouldn't shed any tears over, say, Ulfray getting offed. That traitorous, shit-stirring idiot.
Yet, going against all my expectations, the general's official invite summoned our small group to a meeting in his own private study.
This summons arrived a day after Mia and I had recovered from our soul damage. We didn't even have time to pop over into Breskwor for armor replacements.
In that light, it was a good thing that we weren't going to be paraded in front of everyone when the Legion of Torment lined up for its general. The loss of face would have been catastrophic, doubly so because the best I could get on short order would have been a set of relatively fancy 'civilian' clothing.
And yet… Well. There was a special kind of anxiety burning away inside me when we were all lined up in front of the general's study, waiting for the door to open and release his current visitors.
A part of me, a twitch in the back of my mind, yearned to reach out and link up with Mia.
What we'd done during the last moments of the angelic invasion, the complete and utter unity of mind and soul, was intoxicating. The power, the certainty, the wonderful effects of an echo chamber on our sense of self-worth and confidence…
I needed it in that moment, badly. From the looks she was shooting me, Mia shared in that particular desire.
Despite that, though, both our minds remained firmly where they were supposed to be: within our own skulls. And in the air, dispersing along our mana. And stretching across our transformed souls, mapping the nascent worlds within us. And… Well. You get the point.
The door opened, revealing a pale-faced demon who looked remarkably bat-like, right down to the odd pug-type nose. He was flanked by four other demons, all looking just as downtrodden.
They didn't even dare lift their heads to meet our eyes. For demons to pass up on posturing? I didn't want to know what kind of wringer the general had put them through.
It did make some sense, though. I didn't even remember the group, so it was safe to assume they had failed to distinguish themselves in any way, shape, or form. Three of them were still archdemons!
"Come in."
Naberius' voice rang clearly in our minds. Even as we numbly stumbled onward, I couldn't help but marvel at that.
Though I was a Baron now, I still couldn't catch his mental intrusion. One second there was nothing, and the next, there was a voice in my head. Really, I had to wonder how close he was to reaching the rank of Duke, because the man stubbornly continued to be impressive.
"Ahhhh…. Glaustro, and his little merry band. Sit. Sit." A gesture, and just like last time, comfortable chairs popped right out of thin air for us to claim.
I relaxed by the tiniest of margins. You didn't offer people a seat if you were planning to be horrible to them, after all.
"Thank you, General," Glaustro answered a little stiffly, though he maintained a smile.
He took a seat first, and only then did we follow. I idly looked around the general's office as we sat.
The last time I'd been there, the objects of power in the room had been crippling to look at too closely. For that matter, Naberius himself had been crippling to look at.
That mostly held true now. A brilliance still concealed the entirety of his soul. But the items? Those, I had become a little more capable of properly assessing.
It didn't make me feel better.
Half the artifacts he had casually lying out in the open felt like death itself holding its scythe against my throat. The other half whispered sweet nothings in my ear and promised me power unending in return for just a few trivial things… like my sanity, Emotions, or mana.
You know. The regular 'cursed item' stuff.
I shuddered. Honestly, the most 'normal' thing in the room was the horrible, twisted mess of souls Naberius had claimed on Berlis. The poor idiot who had gone against him there was now nothing but a very fancy soul crystal statue/paperweight on the general's desk.
The faces trapped within the crystal looked even more pained and tortured than the last time I'd seen them. This only confirmed my suspicion that Naberius did, indeed, like to torment his enemies beyond even death.
"You know, Glaustro, when I first met you all that time ago, and when you brought some of your current subordinates to raise a complaint against Melchom, I really didn't think you'd amount to this much. Oh, I was hopeful. I knew you had potential. But this much of it?" The general shook his head, amusement practically dripping off of him. "No."
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"Ah… Thank you, sir?"
"Don't thank me, Glaustro. I am merely providing an honest observation of how you have exceeded my expectations for you. It has been quite refreshing. I am far too used to disappointment as of late, when it comes to my subordinates… Tell me, Glaustro, do you enjoy wine?"
Naberius snapped his fingers, and a bottle materialized on his desk far too smoothly and quickly for even him to have conjured it. Plus, the mana I felt radiating off of the thing pretty convincingly suggested it wasn't a mere conjuration. Oh no, this was a bonafide demonic wine.
And the general was offering it to my major.
If I could have tensed further somehow, I would have. Again, the mana density of the thing was off the charts. I wasn't sure I could safely drink the damn stuff at all, and I was only a level under Glaustro.
Theoretically, of course. I knew the gap was significant, but still.
"Y-Yes, I do enjoy wine, on occasion," my major stuttered, realizing just as I did that he had absolutely no way of tactfully turning down the second most powerful demon in Torment.
"Excellent. In that case…" Again, Naberius must have summoned the glasses. Too shiny and mana-rich otherwise. They also had a blinding amount of enchantments on them. I recognized at least half of those enchantments as dedicated solely to enhancing the taste of whatever was poured into the glasses, to ridiculous levels.
Drinking a plain cup of water out of those things probably tasted better than ambrosia.
In one swift motion, Naberius sheared his claws right through the top of the bottle. It practically disintegrated, leaving a few drops of the wine to fall onto the immaculate surface of his desk.
Instantly, the mana density of the room skyrocketed. I felt lightheaded. A heat surged up into my cheeks, and my mind slowed just a beat before I managed to stuff my brain full of enough mana to keep it functional.
To say I was eyeing the bottle like a mortal would a live grenade was an understatement. That thing had almost gotten me drunk purely off of its fumes.
In spite of that, in spite of knowing what a horrible idea it would be to ever let a single drop of that alcohol touch my tongue… when Naberius began to pour the wine into the two glasses, my eyes tracked the crimson liquid hungrily.
A part of me craved it. Deeply and desperately.
"Here you go. Don't be shy. This wine is best consumed fully upon opening it," Naberius drawled as he pushed a cup over to Glaustro. "It is a fitting way to celebrate your recent achievements!"
For just a moment, their eyes met. Then my poor trapped major picked up the glass and took a sip.
The effect was even quicker than I'd feared. Flushed cheeks, actual perspiration, slight dazedness. My major was instantly sloshed. Though, to his credit, the wine did not make him blow up the way it would have done to me.
If anything, its effect was highly beneficial.
Glaustro's soul twisted and boiled, letting off a sudden… smell? Smell was the best word for it. A smell that matched the aroma of the wine. He took another sip almost immediately after, like he couldn't stop himself. Then another.
Naberius simply watched in amusement.
"You see, Glaustro, the issue I'm facing is the incompetence of my subordinates. Now, I don't mind that they want my post. That is expected. Encouraged, even! The problem is with their methods of fighting for it, as well as the general stupidity they exhibited as soon as it became apparent that I might actually need a replacement."
He took a pause, dramatically swirling his cup before taking a sip. It had absolutely no effect on the hulking nightmare that was the general.
"If they had been smarter, or more vicious, or just… stronger and better in every way, I suppose, I would not mind. No. The problem is, most of them got to their CURRENT posts through the time-honored tradition of scheming, lies, and treachery. That is not an unusual thing for demons, I confess. It is, again, encouraged. However! That should not be the only strategy they rely on. Crewe is fine in that regard, but… He is not 'general' material. Not in the slightest. He is happiest when I send him on campaigns, preferably those in which he can terrorize the locals.
"The other three? Far, far worse. Again, some show licks of promise, but the demons they killed using their schemes were far more worthy of their stations. It is my eternal regret that I never made sure my subordinates understood the value of caution, and knew to distrust the power of subordinate bindings. Then again… you haven't bound these four, have you?"
The general suddenly laughed, looking delighted.
A thrum went through me at his words, followed closely by a shiver.
Higher tier demons could, if pressed, exert ridiculous levels of control over their weaker brethren. I'd seen it several times before, most recently with Conner. Bindings, however, took that a step further.
They demanded everything. A bound demon, as the tales went, was a slave. Even mortal mages understood that, though not many of them knew how to achieve a proper binding, and even fewer had the power to do it.
It had never actually occurred to me that it was something a superior might demand of us. The idea filled me with a whole new level of appreciation for Glaustro.
Then again, as Naberius was hinting, not even bindings were absolute.
"No, you did as I do!" the general went on. "All of my subordinates are left free. Whoever may choose to challenge me, let them do so. Granted, this did cost me my most promising lieutenant generals, so… Regardless. You are even working on mastering your Emotion!"
The appreciation was plain in the general's eyes, and my majorness was too sloshed to do anything more than drunkenly nod. I kind of wanted to wince, unsure if the admission would cost us anything, but the general just barreled on.
"See? Boldness! Ambition! This is what I require. Once more, I admit my expectations were low. I established you as an independent to rile my lieutenant generals into a blood frenzy, to stir their competition once more. I was hoping that one of them would step up, or that a couple would die, breaking their chokehold and allowing worthier candidates to establish themselves. However… you succeeded. Thrived."
Another pause, and this time, the general threw back the entirety of his glass in one long, continuous chug. When he brought it down on his desk, I was afraid that either the wood or the glass would shatter. Neither, surprisingly, happened.
"The rumours have abounded for a few decades now. They are true. I cannot and will not hold back anymore. I will ascend to Duke, and then endeavor to establish my own layer. This does, however, mean I require a successor…"
The general trailed off meaningfully, but while Glaustro had finally finished off his glass, he was still looking bleary-eyed. He had just managed to focus his eyes on the general again when Naberius sent him a grin that put me on edge.
"Well then… why don't you serve as my successor? What do you say, Glaustro of Wrath?"
Would it get me pulverized if I cursed at the general? Probably, right?
I still felt tempted to do it. Or at least sigh melodramatically, because the man was definitely out to get us killed.
Killed quickly, at that.