Things were hectic. Worse than hectic, really. Because while all of us were angry, none of us had any ideas of what we should actually do.
So, we focused on what we could do.
That meant our reaction was bloody. Bloody, and coordinated. Glaustro was going all out, scrutinizing every law, every rule, and every past case of treachery applicable to our situation.
In other words, for the very first time since I'd met him, Glaustro was in full 'evil demonic overlord' mode.
Traitors were hunted down, tortured into confessing all they knew and naming all their contacts, and then summarily executed. Our agents were waiting for them back in the Abyss. Apparently, as the commanding officers of the executed demons in question, we were fully within our rights to have them snatched up as soon as they were resurrected. Anyone trying to stop us would be getting in the way of legion law.
The challenge was, of course, finding reliable demons to serve as those agents. But with more and more traitors getting outed, and more and more of our soldiers getting tested and proven as either trustworthy or dead, we managed. Meaning, we had our snatchers terrified and loyal enough to follow through.
As for what happened to those traitor demons after they were dragged away by our agents?
It was a well-known fact that devouring other demons was a good, quick way to strengthen yourself. True, Glaustro was pretty far above most of the spies, but quantity had a quality all its own. And our group of spies did include a few Barons.
Seeing Glaustro's soul slowly rise in strength towards the peak of his current rank filled me with quiet glee, especially when I imagined our enemies silently panicking in the background.
This mess (and it was a mess, no matter how much Mia and I had personally enjoyed carving into the traitors) took nearly two full weeks to resolve. Not all of the traitors had resurrected in that timespan, obviously. Not even close. But our setup was in place, and we could just feed the spies to Glaustro as they came.
That meant we had to knuckle down and focus on sorting out our current invasion.
"We need more aggressive measures. Our current plans are great and all, but it's taking too long," Methialia growled.
I sighed as I sank into my seat a little deeper, relishing the wonderfully comfy couch Mia and I were sharing after days of moving from unit to unit just to lop people's heads off. At least my sword was practically humming with smug contentment. It had drunk deep of demonic soul essence. I suppose I had, too. My soul definitely felt thicker and fuller than before we started in on the traitors.
"I hear you, and I agree," I assured Methialia. "But… how?"
"If we move too early, they explode," Mia groused.
Methialia knew that, but she wasn't ready to drop the subject. "We eliminate the bombs, then! Can't we track them all down? Just destroy them or steal them before the idiots can use them?"
"Our people are working on it," Glaustro replied. "We're trying to undercut the security of both the 'corpos' and the bombs. But if even a single one is discovered by the locals to be missing ahead of time, well…"
I sighed again. "We all go boom. The strongest of us survive. All the mortals are dead and useless. And then eldritch creatures from between the stars come out to snack on the world's remains."
"A good summary," Bronwynn noted dryly, not even looking up from the pile of documents he was reading.
I poked at him. "What have you got there, anyway? Anything interesting? Or useful?"
"Useful? If we want our army running properly, I would say so, yes," he shot back. "These are reports on the numbers we lost because of all this spy purging business."
"Oh…" I paused. "How bad is it?"
"Worse than expected. Better than it could have been. We've lost about… seven percent of our total troops. It doesn't sound all that bad, sure, but consider our current numbers. This is almost a thousand demons who have proven themselves as utterly unreliable and rotten from the start. How many will they be able to corrupt in the future? How many have we missed?"
Bronwynn was starting to rant. Looking at him closely, I saw a manic gleam in his eyes I did not like at all.
"Bronwynn, you need to rest," Glaustro insisted, beating me to the punch. "I keep telling you this, and you keep avoiding the subject. You haven't properly set work aside since this whole thing started. It is not good for you. And…" He hesitated, glancing at us for a moment before a flush spread over his cheeks. His voice dropped to a volume only demonic senses could still catch. "And… I miss you."
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Bronwynn froze, still clutching the papers. Then, ever so slowly, he unclenched his fingers. The papers spilled over the desk and the floor. He didn't seem to care as he stood up stiffly, crossed the room, and then landed on Glaustro's lap. The colonel turned even more red than normal, but he did also wind his arms around his lover, no matter how much of a tight fit they were in that armchair.
I blinked, then blinked again when I realized Bronwynn had passed out the second he'd laid his head on Glaustro's shoulder.
"Uhhh…" I stammered.
"What is being done about the bombs?" Mia cut in, turning attention away from both my floundering and the unusual public display of affection.
Glaustro cleared his throat to buy some time, but rallied admirably. Really, one could almost miss the fact that he was cuddling Bronwynn ever closer to his chest.
"I organized a training initiative. Most demons are, frankly, horrible when it comes to technology, but —"
I couldn't help it. I laughed out loud at that extraordinary understatement.
Glaustro glared at me before continuing. "But not all are reluctant to learn. We've got a team of twenty demons on the case, with all the relevant highly specialized souls reserved and turned over to them."
"What about local experts?" I mused. "Surely there are locals we can turn to our side?"
"Correct. However, the defenses we need to breach are top-of-the-line, 'cutting edge tech', apparently. There's a limited number of locals who can deal with them. All of those people are under strict control and supervision by the corporations. If one of them went missing…"
"We all go boom," I finished for him grumpily.
"Correct. Besides, they do not have the minds of demons. Once our people master these subjects, they'll be even better than the locals."
"When?" Mia grumbled. "That's an important thing to keep in mind. How long is this going to take? They can absorb memories, sure. But if they don't really understand the memories, want to use them, or have the right mindset to make the best of them, then it's going to take forever. Ascended locals would still be a better shot."
Glaustro shook his head slowly. "I… I know," he admitted, obviously pained. "I know. But I would rather not explore that option."
I bit back yet another sigh. I knew in my gut that he was making the wrong call.
Sure, demons were way better than mortals at most things. We were arguably more intelligent, not to mention capable of a higher level of thought.
Unfortunately, in this particular case, none of that mattered.
Our higher level of thinking translated to mana, Emotions, and souls. Our ability to perceive these things and remain sane was without peer (outside of other higher races, obviously, but don't let other demons know I said that). Still, that didn't translate into tech savviness at all.
Besides, Glaustro was literally asking centuries-old demons to change their way of thinking and pick up a new skill. This wasn't impossible, of course. Demons learned more about magic and fighting all throughout their lives. But that was a deeper learning of what they already knew, rather than getting their minds blown by a whole new discipline.
We were, by necessity, creatures somewhat stuck in our ways. If we didn't feel so strongly, if we didn't stick to our guns with utmost devotion, then how long would we be able to stay alive? A hundred years? Three hundred? A thousand? Eventually, time would erode our minds, sanity, and sense of self.
No, we had to be the way we were, as a simple means of self-preservation. And that was good, honestly. Even admirable.
But for what we needed right now?
No. Just… no.
"Mia isn't wrong," I said, as firmly as I could. "There's a reason most demons suck at tech. We don't think about it the same way. Don't approach it the same way, either. If you insist on this route alone, it's going to take… a long time, Glaustro."
"And we don't have time," Mia pointed out.
"We don't," I agreed. "We need to wrap things up here. Quickly."
Our colonel glowered at us over Bronwynn's shoulder for a moment. Then, suddenly, he sighed. "Fine. Fine! You're right. We'll find some local experts to ascend."
"Thank you," I said. "Really. I know you'd prefer to keep this limited to people we trust, and we can't really trust the locals, especially if we offer them power, but…"
"We need this," Mia insisted.
"We do." I nodded. "We really, really do."
"Yes, well, let's just hope no one finds out."
Glaustro sounded so tired that I paused.
"What? What do you mean?"
The look he gave me suggested he was beginning to question my intelligence. "Hayden… we are planning to empower locals. Of our own accord. Warlocks are one thing, everyone knows how flimsy and short-lived warlocks are, but proper ascension? Without completing our conquest? Without permission?" Glaustro shook his head. "The fallout of this could be… apocalyptic."
I realized, then, that I'd missed several implicit and explicit rules of invasion. Oh, and that Glaustro's reluctance had nothing to do with demonic pride, which… yeah, that tracked. I felt a little bad, honestly. I should have known him better than that.
"Well, we did get rid of most of the spies, if not all of them," Methialia chimed in, looking unconcerned. "We can keep this all hush-hush, get the locals to do what we need them to do, then smuggle them into Breskwor. If we bind them tightly enough with oaths and such, they won't be able to snitch on us, either."
"That could work," Glaustro conceded, looking a tiny bit calmer now that he'd accepted the necessity of the plan. "We can also smuggle them into the Abyss using Breskwor for their initial binding. Hopefully we can avoid losing too many of them if their souls aren't up to snuff."
"Maybe we can feed them a tiny bit of Divinity beforehand? We're already taking some pretty big risks, after all," I hedged. "They don't even need to know what we're doing. We can knock them out."
Methialia hummed, now fully into the swing of things. "That would help, yes. We can also try and give them some basic mage training? Just so they can pretend they're from a more magic-based world. We can say we got them from one of the training camps or something."
"Speaking of Breskwor," Glaustro cut in, looking like he'd just remembered something, "Imthala contacted me recently. When I informed her of the spies, she sent back a message requesting a meeting. She wants all of us to attend. Frankly, she sounded concerned and serious enough for me to approve the request, even if it does pose certain challenges to organize right now."
My eyes narrowed as I remembered the state of the demoness in question the last time I'd seen her. Imthala had looked worried, stressed, and altogether drained. Frankly? I was happy to hear she was calling for a meeting.
I was certain something was bothering her. So, the sooner she came out with it and we could help her, the better.