I'd said it before, and I would say it again: I was immensely proud of Hafnir. Sure, Breskwor was currently a headache for us. Sure, we didn't know how we could secure it in the long term. Nevertheless, our capital (and only) city on the planet was growing beautifully, becoming a true fit for the title of a 'planet's jewel.'
And that wasn't just me tooting my own horn for the wonderful crystalline architecture, either. Even in the few weeks we'd spent away, the city had taken a step forward. Now that my bracelets were providing a temporary solution to the spy problem, Imthala had been able to focus on improving the city's commercial appeal.
And it was working. The streets were fuller than ever with shoppers and visitors, all bearing my bracelets if they were from outside our faction, and all engaging in merry commerce.
I had maintained some degree of contact with Imthala after I left Breskwor, even at my busiest. Because of that, I was aware of the bracelets' curious side effect: a striking improvement in local law and order.
Imthala had also kept me posted on the implications of that effect. A smoothly running city appealed to merchants and traders of every stripe. The shrewd ice demoness had immediately capitalized on this fact to position Breskwor as a potential hub of trade, as well as a neutral ground for hashing out tricky deals and negotiations.
And, since such matters were a special concern only for rich and powerful demons, Breskwor was drawing in more important clientele. These visitors were the type willing to spend money on the most lavish comforts and curiosities, no matter how short their stay on our lovely planet. This, naturally, drew in even more merchants and traders, forming something of a virtuous cycle.
I thoroughly enjoyed our walk through the city streets towards our meeting spot, aka Imthala's home. We were assailed on every side by curious sights, enticing smells, colorful stalls, and a wide variety of demons. For once, it was nice to admire the city without having to freak out over its security. Not that Imthala wasn't doing just that, but hey, temporarily not my problem.
Mean? Yes. Good for my soul and nerves? Also yes!
"Imthala really is doing a wonderful job here," Glaustro muttered with a smile.
I echoed his smile, wondering if he was imagining the sweet, sweet taxes this whole operation was now producing. I knew I certainly was.
Sure, some of the merchants who'd gotten in early had received great tax break deals. (Or, in Tibath's case, a 'no taxes' kind of deal. Glaustro was well aware that I could be a pushy menace when I wanted to be.) But that still didn't detract from the success of Hafnir's commerce. It was wild to think that, if we kept up the good work, we'd eventually be able to go entirely independent and never have to kill someone for their soul ever again.
Well, in a vacuum.
We still had the legion hanging over heads. Most of the merchants milling about us had some sort of link to that lovely organization. We couldn't just cut ties without our lives crumbling around us and commerce rapidly drying up on Breskwor, if we were able to keep the planet at all in that scenario.
Still, it was nice to dream.
It was also nice to have plenty of resources we could openly use to pay our troops. Divinity was great and undeniably valuable, but it also wasn't something you could put down on a job poster. A steady soul income stream, though? Sign-on benefits and bonuses? Now those were all truly appealing prospects.
Resources. Plain and simple. That was the reason why established demonic houses and the four lieutenant generals had so much more sway than we did. They were rich, and we were not.
Yet.
Of course, the support of Naberius himself meant a lot. And we did technically have that, if you squinted hard enough. But the money? The ability to 'bribe' people into signing onto your army?
Yeah, as much as it had hurt to root out so many spies, I understood. Why would you care about loyalty and all that jazz if someone was paying you hand over fist to betray your employer?
But our growing commercial success on Breskwor bolstered my confidence, especially when combined with the reality of our recent purge. I actually found myself believing that we could properly establish ourselves and support Glaustro's bid to take over the entire Legion of Torment.
I didn't have the requisite ambition to try something like that myself, but if I could support Glaustro… well, I couldn't deny the appeal of all that power.
Especially when I imagined using said power to clean house of any unwanted relations of mine that had snuck and murdered their way into the higher echelons of the legion.
Alas, while it was truly enjoyable, our little stroll eventually had to end. All too soon, we reached Imthala's home and were subtly ushered in.
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You might think such a meeting ought to occur in a more official setting. Imthala did have an office in the city center, where she conducted business as the temporary ruler in Glaustro's absence. But you'd be wrong. Not only did the ice demoness's home provide the same level of security, because she apparently took her personal safety and privacy very seriously and had invested in some truly remarkable wards, but it also offered anonymity.
There was nothing wrong with Glaustro visiting Breskwor. There was also nothing wrong with any of us tagging along individually. All of us at once, though? That was just asking for trouble. Especially considering the questions that might arise about why we'd left our invasion force entirely to their own devices, however briefly.
So, even our short stroll through the city had happened under the careful veil of Mia's illusions. She hadn't outright made us invisible, just shifted our features around to make us unrecognizable. Still, no one could deny that her affinity made the visit much simpler to organize.
Imthala clearly thought it was worth it. She greeted us warmly, making sure we had comfortable seats and shoving beverages into our hands. Once we were seated, though, Glaustro made it clear that he was not going to waste any time.
"Okay, we are here. You summoned us, 'as urgently as possible', so I expect a good explanation, Imthala."
The colonel wasn't exactly accusatory or confrontational, but he didn't sound too happy, either. Unfortunately for his urgency, the icy demoness's enthusiasm about our arrival had faded as soon as she sat down. She was now staring right through the floor of the comfy sitting room, glancing every so often at the wards shining faintly from the walls.
Glaustro had just opened his mouth to urge her again when she began to talk.
"Remember your first recruitment drive? Way back, when you'd only just got a commission as an officer?"
"Yes, I do," Glaustro said softly.
"You attracted all the most desperate demons who still had a shred of ambition left. I-I was one of them, obviously, but…"
She trailed off, yet none of us rushed to prompt her again. I guessed the others could see the conflict on her face as plainly as I could. Shame, mostly, warring with an entire cocktail of other Emotions. Yet, every time she looked up at us, all of those Emotions were positive.
"I didn't originally intend to sign up. I mean, and no offense Methialia, but I am Abyss-born. My parents weren't powerful or influential, but surely my birth alone would give me a leg up, right? Yes and no. Apparently, I wasn't appealing enough to recruiters as a soldier. I was, however, appealing as prospective bait. And as a spy."
She sounded so bitter and angry, it took all of us a second to actually process her words.
"You mean you —!" Mia hissed, literally, and was about to jump to her feet when I pulled her into my lap instead. "Hayden, let me go!"
"Nope. Calm down, please? If she were a spy, we'd all be dead by now."
That did the trick, even if it made Imthala shoot me an extremely bitter smile.
"Technically, I am a spy. A sleeper agent. I just never woke up."
Glaustro leaned forward, staring intently at the ice demoness. "Explain."
"They paid some of us to apply. Just to apply, mind you. We got an additional payment if we were accepted. Then we were ordered to just wait and be on the lookout in case they needed us. You weren't a big deal yet, Glaustro, so I wasn't sure they would need us. By the way, you actually turned away most of the potential spies, as far as I know. But not all."
My colonel leaned forward even further. "You know who they are?"
"Some. Not all of them, I don't think, but it doesn't matter."
"It doesn't —?! How does it not matter?!" Methialia demanded, fighting the urge to shout and almost losing.
"Because most of us were expecting more of the same from you. To get exploited, in every sense of the word. Receive a pittance, vague promises of promotions, and eventually get kicked to the curb to live out the rest of our lives as simple soldiers. Instead, we got, well…"
She vaguely gestured at the room around us. "This."
I didn't know what to say. Again, my experience with the Legion of Torment wasn't exactly typical. Mia and I had ascended to demonhood and then to Baron rank at a rate that could only be called prodigious.
"We didn't think you actually meant it when you made all those promises about fair treatment," Imthala went on. "We hoped, maybe. But we didn't believe you. We'd heard it all too many times before. I didn't think you were outright lying, but… intentions shift. Power does funny things to people. So, when you kept your word? When you did your best to give out bonuses, good pay, solid posts, promotions?"
She looked Glaustro in the eye with a smile.
"What idiot would risk all that for a vague promise of possible payment if they betrayed you? I wouldn't. Everyone I am aware of who was sent here to spy on you agrees. Not a single one of us would even try to circumvent the oaths you made us take to keep quiet about this place. We don't want to jeopardize our new home."
"Why tell us all of this, then?" I asked.
"Because while I obviously changed sides, I never bothered to notify my, ah, former employers. That would be downright stupid. And a little suicidal." Her smile faltered as she extracted a letter from her dimensional storage. "Almost forgot about it all, really. And then I got this."
"That is…?" Glaustro's voice was gentle, but his eyes were tracking the letter like it might try to bite him.
"A demand to do my part. Straight from the office of Vallinach himself."
Mia sucked in a sharp, angry breath. None of us were far behind her in our outrage. Out of all the lieutenant generals, our impression of that particular piece of shit was decisively the worst.
"Yep. I don't think he wrote it himself, but he did sign it. Himself. Apparently, he doesn't really care about being exposed for spying on a 'lowly colonel.' He promises me all sorts of things if I can 'provide vital intelligence that might harm Glaustro's cause.'"
Snickering, Imthala strode over to Glaustro and handed him the letter. He just looked at it for a long moment, apparently unsure whether he should read it or set it on fire.
"This is bad, I admit. It means we've definitely got his undivided attention, and of the other four lieutenant generals, too. But…" Imthala's whole face brightened, and she gushed on, "It also presents us with an opportunity. I mean, he apparently thinks he's got a loyal spy among the most influential of your followers, Glaustro. Just think about what we could do with that!"
Her excitement was contagious. As our colonel slowly grinned at her, the mood in the room shifted decidedly for the better.
After all, if Vallinach wanted to play… who were we to deny an esteemed lieutenant general?