Fists as the Antidote to Corruption
The forest's murky air felt almost comfortable now. The leaves writhed grotesquely, unlike anything in the human realm, but even that had become familiar. Lucius didn't like how accustomed he'd grown to it.
A house made of red logs stood there. It had been a full week since he'd started living with Uba Kaliarun, the great warrior who had saved him.
He'd explained his situation in full to the man first. He'd strived to fulfill the dying wish of someone precious to him. But that precious one had fallen to corruption and walked into Pandemonium of her own accord, following the demon cult's grasp. He'd chased after them through the gate, but they were already gone.
He kept the tale simple, omitting the details. From Uba's reaction, it seemed he wouldn't grasp it all anyway—and above all, his interests were fixed solely on demons.
Well, he did perk up at the fact that Cain had become a dark elf. But what really caught his attention was that Lucius was the son of the master Arahan, his disciple, had served. He spoke with a fond, worried expression, like he was thinking of a distant daughter.
"...More than that, I have a question."
"What."
Uba had just returned from wiping out a pack of lesser demons in his morning workout. His axe was caked in dark red blood. He scrubbed it with water and poured holy water over it. It hissed—sizzle!—as the black blood evaporated, almost like a scream.
Uba tossed the axe aside and picked up his sword. As he wiped it with a cloth infused with holy power, he answered Lucius's question.
"Why'd you shave your head?"
"...A warrior doesn't flap his mouth carelessly."
"Did you piss off Arahan or something? No, you definitely did. I know her temper's a bit prickly."
"That's what makes that boy Rowen you mentioned so impressive. Arahan's a monster! Even if I treat her like a daughter, that crazy little shit ended up shaving my head anyway!"
"...You must've really gotten on her bad side."
Lucius was polite in front of Uba. Not mimicking his father's speech, but out of respect for a hero from a thousand years ago. He didn't need to playact as king like before. It actually felt a bit more comfortable. That's why he could ask such questions without hesitation.
Before meeting him, he'd revered the great figure. But after a week together, the illusion had shattered.
This guy's too pure!
It wasn't a bad thing. But it was too much. His brain really was nothing but muscle. No different from what Arahan had said.
He'd thought she was just trash-talking her master, but no—it was true. He saw good and evil in black and white. Kind to humans, ruthless to demons. He could end fights with less effort by infusing holy power into his weapons, but this dumb warrior just crushed them with brute strength.
"Ever heard the saying, 'A sharp mind spares the body toil'?"
"A strong body spares the mind toil."
"...Fair point, but..."
"Hey, results are what matter. Look at you—practically dying when I found you, and now you're full of vim and vigor."
Above all.
"Boy, you need to build some muscle. Every time I see you, it reminds me of my old dead friend. If his body had been a bit tougher, he wouldn't have gone down to a mere demon sword!"
"You're talking about the great knight, Rian Rose."
"Great knight, my ass. That guy's a shitty knight! He charged into the demon castle alone, and by the time I got there, he was already croaked."
"...The tales say he sacrificed himself for his arriving comrades."
"That's Abel, that idiot, spreading it that way. I didn't like Rian's choice! If he reincarnated, I'd smash his face in so he never makes a dumb call like that again..."
Friend. Their bond let him rage like this. How much must he miss a friend he'd never see again?
Lucius had never lived a thousand years, and his only real friend was Rowen. He couldn't fully grasp that emotion. But he knew sorrow. He felt bone-deep what it meant to lose someone forever.
That's why he'd asked Uba for help. A way to restore Cain before they never met again.
"About that, though."
"Yes."
"That's the homework I gotta solve."
Uba said it like it was his problem to fix. Didn't that mean someone close to him had fallen too? For a moment, Lucius wondered if the great Kaliarun's oracle existed for this very situation.
"The Demonic Seed. That's the root of human corruption."
"Cain had one too. It bloomed after two years."
"That's why I'm in Pandemonium—to cut it off at the source."
Uba set down the sword he'd been scrubbing and naturally gripped a magic staff, as if reminded of someone. A fierce hatred burned in him.
"There are two people I gotta free from corruption's pain."
"Who?"
"Mio's disciple."
"...Yuria's here too?!"
"Not that punk. Mio's got lots of disciples. Three she really cherished."
Yuria Scarlet. Demir Balmung. Cordelia Starlis.
Those were Mio Lizfeldt's prized pupils, Uba said. Lucius had heard of Yuria before—Rowen had shared updates on how he'd been, what had happened. That's why he'd been shocked. Among Mio's disciples, Yuria was the only name he knew, so he'd feared another of Rowen's circle had slipped away. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Uba explained Yuria's star magic was impressive, but Demir's dark magic was even more so. A branch of black magic, but Mio knew his pure heart. She taught him to study it without straying to evil.
But in Pandemonium, a Demonic Seed wormed into him unnoticed. One day, he awoke to black magic's true nature. Demir was likely wherever Cain was. Cordelia too.
Hers wasn't black magic, but blood magic—dark arts using blood. Practically a black magic offshoot, but mages didn't fuss over labels. They just solved curiosities. Cordelia was obsessed with blood magic. The Demonic Seed preyed on that desire.
Both resisted the alien whisper at first, repulsive from their soul's depths. But daily murmurs became familiar. Unseen, their hearts filled with darkness. When they snapped to, the area around them was obliterated.
"...Just like Cain."
"Yeah. They rampage till reason returns. I've seen humans turn demon, but this level of desire is new."
"...Is the Demon King's power growing?"
"Is? No question—it is growing. If their flesh seals break, things won't go like before."
From the start.
"Back then, we fought with our lives on the line. Sealing one Demon King cost countless sacrifices. If all awaken amid that..."
"We can't let that happen."
"Right. That's why we're stuck in Pandemonium, hunting that method."
"This homework to solve..."
"There must be a clue to undoing the fall. I think it's my fist!"
"What the fuck are you spouting so seriously?"
"I'm no fool. Name's Uba."
"That's not what I—!"
Uba stared at Lucius with dead seriousness. Lucius... just gawked back, a bit dumbfounded. This man really had nothing but muscle for brains.
But as the great Kaliarun's mouthpiece, he'd trust him a little. No—disbelieving would be blasphemy.
"...Fist? What's that mean, exactly?"
"Punch 'em."
"Fuck, are you insane?"
"This fist'll set 'em straight. In this no-other-way situation, it's the best medicine."
A strong body spares the mind toil? He felt it again. Best if you're strong and smart—no toil at all.
*
A massive castle moved on magi. Neatly shifting mechanical fragments glowed red. Demon science—magitech. A vicious power born from ancient tech passed by the primordial beings called the Demon Kings' fathers.
With this tech, anyone could gain easy power. At least enough to protect themselves. But in hell, Pandemonium, it meant something else. Tech to climb higher than others. Optimized for slaughter: crushing, breaking, tearing heads to rise.
Demons warred endlessly in this lawless zone, submitting to the strong for power. All bore greed—save the Demon King's kin, blessed with desire itself.
That shared demon sense, greed. The Greed King's spirit overlooked from a high tower.
The King of Greed, Barbatos, lightly tilted his wine glass. Drip, drip... Red wine soaked the ground. Succubi crawled at his feet, lapping it up.
"Well, time to decide, eh?"
"...What if I refuse your offer?"
Barbatos's black hair whipped in the wind. He leaked just a sliver of aura.
Shudder, shudder...! The crawling succubi couldn't endure, climaxing on the spot.
"Cain, I'm talking to you. Stay stiff like that, and what does it make me, the one who called you?"
"...A contract with a Demon King. What do I get?"
"Power, strength, women, money. Whatever you crave."
Barbatos grabbed a pink-haired succubus like a dog. Gripped her throat and kissed her deep, tongue probing sweet.
"Hng..."
"Shut it."
"Heh..."
He flung her aside. She came lightly, mind lost.
"With incubus blood, you can reach that height. Plus, I know you tamed plenty of whores in the Valenos house."
"You fucks got no respect for privacy?"
"Heh heh heh. No need to rage. I like you plenty. Contract with me, good for you, good for me—everyone wins. Unless..."
Barbatos glared at Cain.
"...you plan to refuse the 'favor' I did saving your life?"
"Normal humans wouldn't call that a favor. It's blackmail."
"Heh heh heh. We're demons. You know that."
"I'm human."
"No, you're demon. Hybrid of spirit, elf, demon blood. Perfect vessel to host me. Our soul sync matches."
The reason was simple. Cain had been despised since childhood as less than the bastard Rowen. Desire to surpass him. Lewd lusts. Wish for power sans talent. Craving others' meals. All fiercer than most.
Ignorance of it was the pass. Cain's innate talent: greed from birth.
Barbatos too. Just greedier than others, he'd ruled as Demon King for eons. To grow strong, envious of other races' traits, he devoured, stole, assimilated. Became a hybrid.
"You're perfect there. Mixed like me! Choose, Cain. Contract, and claim it all."
"One question, black-hair."
"Ask."
"If I do your 'favor', what's in it for you? Just making me a minion?"
Barbatos grinned wickedly, lips splitting ear-to-ear, oozing dark greed.
"Why ask the obvious?"
Darkness encroached.
"Resurrection."
"Resurrection?"
"Yeah. I descend as Demon King, you as my partner."
Meaning.
"Cain, you and me. Taking Greed's throne together."
"...Greed's throne."
"Tempting, right? Plus, that Lucretia virgin you crave."
"..."
Cain knew it was contradictory. The greediest sharing a throne? Absurd. He wanted something, using the contract as pretext.
But contracting meant gains for Cain too—higher survival odds. Status brought power.
"Choose, Cain. Abandon light, join me."
Evil. The root urged from depths.
A wicked smile bloomed on Cain's lips.