Demonic Conqueror [LitRPG, Isekai, Progression]

"You're..." Bastian inched backwards, sidestepping to put himself in-between Simon and the unconscious Cyna. "Ancient One take me, you're a Demon."

Technically a Fell-Shrouded Human, but not even Katarina took me seriously when I suggested I wasn't born like this. "In the flesh," Simon replied, his smile growing. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather we skip the introductions and pleasantries. On a bit of a time crunch here."

Bastian said nothing, wearing the expression of a man staring down the barrel of a gun. His hand crept towards the longsword sheathed at his waist.

"I don't recommend that," Simon helpfully told him. "Killing me would be hazardous to your health."

"That so?" The rebel let out a half-deranged chuckle. "Would I be cursed for slaying a Demon, then? A last act of retribution to haunt me long after you're gone?"

"Sounds intriguing, but no. I meant it in more of a direct sense."

With his human hand, Simon gestured at the locked door. Outside, heavy footsteps – belonging to guards wearing armor – could be heard gathering en masse. "When Helmund's soldiers finally open that door, the only thing standing between you, them, and a shallow grave will be this protective Barrier I've cast."

Bastian glared at the translucent mana-shield as if it was laughing at him. He sucked in air through clenched teeth, forcing himself to face the Demon again.

"Are you allied with the nobility?" he asked. His voice was one of palpable loathing, like he would throw caution to the wind and attack Simon if given the wrong answer. "Just another of Duke Helmund's sycophants?"

"...Is that a joke?" Despite their need for haste, the question was so absurd – and downright offensive – that the transmigrator felt compelled to respond. "What, exactly, gave you the impression that I'm working with Helmund?"

"You led me straight into a trap, for one. Encouraged my folly as the noose slowly tightened."

"Please. You led yourself, Guy. Not my fault your heart didn't listen to your head. If you hadn't been so obsessively worried over Medea, maybe you wouldn't have rushed full speed ahead and missed a bunch of blatant warning signs."

He could have tried a soft sell, presented himself as an amicable ally...but he didn't have the likability for that, and a pitch that sounded insincere would just heighten Bastian's paranoia. The rebel was expecting a confrontation with an arrogant, pitiless Demon.

Simon would give him one.

"If those warnings were so evident," Bastian countered, "then why follow me into a stronghold infested by guardsmen? Helmund would readily slaughter any Demon who encroached on the Severed Isles. When this door opens and your barrier crumbles under a deluge of steel, you'll be joining me in whatever shallow grave they dig for us."

The rebel examined him with a calculating gaze. "You came here for a reason. There's some manner of scheme that I am not yet privy to."

Katarina loudly cleared her throat. "A scheme that I was not made privy to, either." She sent Simon a disgruntled side-eye. "Would it have been so hard to include me in your designs?"

He offered her a conciliatory look in return. "I learned some key details from Sin Scry and Identify. Was difficult to tell you without alerting Guy."

"Nevertheless, you should have tried. We are equal partners in this endeavor. A brief letter slipped my way wouldn't have been remiss."

"Fair. I'll be better about that next time."

Bastian recoiled away from Katarina, as if suddenly remembering her presence. "You're with him," he hissed. "A Contracted servant. A Demon's thrall. I've always thought that Helmund's soldiers were selling their souls, after a fashion – but you've actually gone and done it."

The Arcane Rogue tapped idle fingers against her daggers. "You're still in the midst of adjusting to Simon's...to Simon, so I'll forgive that." She glanced at the transmigrator. "What is needed of me?"

"Just keep your crossbow aimed at the doorway. We should be finished here before I run out of MP, but if not, an explosive Firebolt will make the guards have second thoughts about storming inside."

He turned to address Bastian. "Now – are you going to waste more time, or should we skip to the part where I save your life?"

Simon injected a sliver of urgency into his tone that he didn't truly feel. For all he'd claimed that the last minute had been a waste of time, it was necessary to set Bastian at ease. Demons were creatures of nightmare and legend in Valtia; few people would react calmly when confronted with a horror movie monster where lifelong enslavement was one of the lesser hells they could inflict upon you.

Thankfully, they'd managed to prevent the rebel from having a full-blown meltdown. While he still seemed anxious and on a hair trigger, that was a far cry from readying to charge at Simon, sword drawn and heart steeled. I'll have to thank Katarina later. Her speaking so nonchalantly worked wonders.

"Save...my life," Bastian repeated under his breath. He looked back at the still-unconscious Cyna. A grim countenance passed over him, as if preparing for the worst. "What of–"

"Her too. If you comply."

"...Comply." The color drained from Bastian's face. "How–"

With a creak of interlocking metal, the door opened.

Simon arched an eyebrow at what he saw outside. The adjacent hallway wasn't especially large, but a dozen soldiers had packed themselves together like sardines in a tin can. There were probably dozens more just out of view. Most of them shouted with glee as the door opened, raising triumphant fists into the air, as if this was the most entertainment they'd had all month.

I suppose we *are* spicing things up for them, Simon mused. Doubt that Helmund's strongholds are infiltrated often – let alone twice in a single day.

Upon seeing the glowing Barrier covering the doorway, the guards went from excited to stunned in an instant, their cheers dying abruptly. Silence reigned for a few moments. The armored men and women exchanged befuddled glances with each other, as if wondering whether there was another Artifact they'd forgotten to deactivate.

Katarina flinched at the sight of a full retinue of soldiers standing mere feet away. Simon flinched as well – from suppressing the broad grin threatening to ruin his negotiations with Bastian. A rebel at the end of his rope wouldn't appreciate how thoroughly pleased the Demon felt right now.

Threaded the needle. He'd positioned himself close enough to the door to cast Barrier, yet angled himself so that the soldiers couldn't see his Demonic arm. They were unaware that this strange new obstacle was a product of Fell magic. The guards would leisurely take their time handling it...

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

All while remaining in Bastian's peripheral vision. A constant reminder of the fate that awaited if he refused to comply.

Simon couldn't have asked for a more effective backdrop.

"I'll ask plainly," he quietly whispered to Bastian, so that the guards couldn't hear him as they murmured amongst themselves. "What have you heard of Demons? In general."

"You devour souls." The man shivered. "Bind people into Contracts of servitude. Torture them to fulfill whatever twisted fantasies your hateful, diseased minds crave. It is said that slitting your own throat is preferable to catching their interest."

Katarina said something similar. Are the rumors exaggerated, or are native Demons truly that awful? Guess I'd need to meet more of them to find out.

"Hmm." Simon tilted his head. "Can't speak for others of my kind, but I specialize in a slightly different field than torture for torture's sake. Rather, I possess the capacity to bestow incredible power unto people."

"...So that's your game." Bastian twitched with nervous energy, not seeming to realize that he was leaning on Cyna's chair for support. "Fool's gold wrapped in a fool's tale – but I'm a fool as well, so I suppose it's apt. Been some time since I was on the receiving end of a con this...grandiose."

His lips morphed into a sneer. "What were you planning to say next, Demon? That you'll make me invincible? The second coming of Piers Helmund? With just a snap of your fingers, I'll massacre my way through this entire Ancient-accursed stronghold?"

"Yes."

The word was stated with the severity it deserved. Bastian's eyes widened at Simon's sudden shift in tone, the transmigrator not blinking as he spoke. "You won't be invincible, and I've never met Piers. But massacring your way home? That's the idea."

Simon was highly impressed with what he'd seen of Bastian's combat efficacy, both in-person and during Sin Scry. The rebel had moved with unerring precision, capable of cutting down soldiers like trimming weeds in a garden. It was even more impressive when accounting for his sub-par mana affinity.

However, that same lack of mana had also hamstrung his potential. He would never be as strong as he wished. The nature of his birth had left him with an inherent deficit that no amount of hard work could ever surpass.

Perhaps it was cruel to think of him in that manner, but Valtia was not a world that shied away from cruelty. People with mana were simply capable of more. It was why Armand Calloway's dagger had turned an untrained, languid nobody into a monster to be feared. It was why Katarina had wept when she first tested the power granted by her new Levels, overcome with tears of relief, joy, and the frustration of so many wasted years.

Yet despite his innate handicap, Identify had deemed that Bastian was worthy of Estimated Level 15. He'd stormed strongholds, battled guardsmen, pulled off assassinations, and traded blows with two people of higher Level. His body may not have been a font of all-empowering mana, but his skill with the blade was unquestionable.

What would happen when you endowed a man like that with the gods' system?

"I'll help, of course," Simon continued. "Katarina and I will fight at your back. But you will be the tip of the spear piercing through the soldiers' ranks. I have faith that you'll tear through them like wet tissue paper – especially in a relatively thin corridor, where they'll have difficulty surrounding you and making use of their numbers advantage."

Bastian bit down a retort. He wanted to argue, to call Simon a maniac, but something in the Demon's unwavering gaze stopped him short.

It was tough to debate a conman who wholeheartedly believed in what they were selling.

"Let's...presume you are correct," Bastian eventually said. Although his body was so tense you could practically hear his heart pounding from across the room, the man's voice sounded buttery-smooth. "How would you go about empowering me? Would I need to accept a Demon's Contract?"

"That would be part of it, yes." Simon wasn't Granting this Boon purely out of the goodness of his heart. There would be terms and conditions, sign here, please.

Besides, Bastian would've been less likely to take the deal if there weren't strings attached. He'd been forced to bet on the kindness of strangers in order to rescue Cyna, but that was an act of desperation. Con artists were generally the types of people that responded to altruism with cynicism.

Nothing was more suspicious than someone telling you exactly what you wanted to hear – and that went double when it was coming from a Demon.

Bastian paused. "Curious that you chose to regale me with stories of the power I can have, dangling glory just within my grasp, plying me with silver honey...before bothering to mention the Contract even once. Why not threaten my life, cow me into submission?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Makes me think that you sorely desire my assistance. That without my sword arm, you'd be in as much trouble as the rest of us."

"No."

Simon pushed more severity into the word than before. "You are not needed, Guy. Nor is Medea. Don't make the mistake of assuming you aren't expendable."

It was the honest truth. If Simon placed a Landmine outside the door, blew apart some of the clumped-up guards, grabbed Katarina, used the confusion to dash through the hallway, and cast quick Barriers to fend off attacks as they went...

He felt very confident that they could make it to the window room mostly intact. And due to their increased Vitality, the ensuing four-story drop wouldn't pose much of an obstacle. Any major injuries could be patched up later by Transmigrator's Body or visiting a local healer.

Bastian and Cyna wouldn't be so lucky.

The rebel winced as if he'd been struck. Again, he tried to muster up some form of rebuke – and again, words failed him. It would've been easier if there was some logical hole or exaggeration to poke at, but none existed. Simon didn't have to tell lies to ensnare people.

Not when the cold starkness of reality provided all the argument he needed.

A sword tapped at the Barrier. One of the guards was testing the waters, poking their weapon from a distance, like a child using a stick to examine something unsavory. The soldiers had belatedly figured out that the translucent mana-shield wasn't something of theirs. Wouldn't be long before they started hacking away at it.

"Time's up." Simon concentrated his Demonic mana, struggling with the effort of maintaining his Barrier while simultaneously tapping into a different ability. "I'll initiate the Contract. Be prepared to read fast. I trust you'll find the terms agreeable."