Demonic Conqueror [LitRPG, Isekai, Progression]

Bastian blinked, nearly doing a double-take. He seemed dazed, as if he hadn't intended to answer. Buyer's remorse was already blooming on his features.

Didn't matter. A willing agreement had been given. In that pure, singular moment, his heart of hearts had spoken true.

The rebel could only watch as two more lines materialized at the bottom of the Contract.

Contractor: Simon Cobblestone
Contractee: Bastian Evergray

An unearthly voice echoed within both their minds. To Bastian, it was like the slamming of a judge's gavel. To Simon, it was nothing more than a cry of victory.

THIS CONTRACT IS FORGED.

The blackened scrawl vanished.

Bastian closed his eyes. He exhaled, centered himself, and turned to look at his Contractor.

"It is done. We are allied, then." His attempt at no-nonsense professionalism was admirable – despite how obviously forced it was. "What of this...Boon, you described?"

Simon took a second to catch his breath before responding. Forging a Contract wasn't physically draining, nor did it consume MP, but the sensation felt exhausting nonetheless.

"There's something you should know first," he began. "While the Boon does indeed Grant a wellspring a power, the form that power takes will make absolutely zero sense to you. I'll explain everything later, but for now, you need to follow my exact instructions. To the letter. Save the mystified questions for when we aren't in mortal peril. Understand?"

"So be it." A bitter laugh escaped Bastian. "What choice do I have?"

Wonder if you'll still be feeling sour grapes after you mow through those guards like a weed thresher.

A demonic, pitch-black aura encircled Simon's shapeshifted limb, the energy pulsating as if it were a living creature. He extended his arm out towards his newest Contractee. "Take my hand. That's Step 1."

All of a sudden, the guards' assault on the second Barrier ceased. By reaching out to Bastian, Simon had unwittingly given the soldiers an angle where they could just barely see him.

They'd glimpsed his arm.

The stunned silence that followed was deafening. With renewed haste, Bastian practically leapt forward to grasp Simon's hand.

He didn't even flinch as Fell energy settled onto his skin, carving a shining tattoo symbol onto his palm. It displayed five connected lines pointing upwards in the same direction. Like the sharpened edges of a thrusting trident, ready to skewer its enemies and lay them low. It was the sigil of Kirkelas the Conqueror, of the Boon that had been granted–

And of Simon, whose Demonic influence was spreading.

"Boon granted." The transmigrator adopted a curt, militaristic tone. It helped steady his nerves as the soldier frantically attacked his Barrier, depleting its MP far faster than before. "Next: think the words 'Character Sheet' to yourself. It may feel like an instinct."

To Bastian's credit, he immediately complied. His face twitched as he saw floating book-pages appear in front of his eyes, written in a language he didn't know – but could still understand – yet he betrayed no other emotion than that. "I see it."

"Good. There should be a line that says 'Level'. What number is beside it?"

"25."

His original Estimated Level, plus half of my actual Levels, Simon thought. Same increase that Kat received. "Look at 'Unspent Stat Points'. What's the number next to that line?"

"40."

"Alright. Think this to yourself: 13 stat points into Strength. 14 stat points into Dexterity. 13 stat points into Vitality."

Bastian gasped as an influx of power surged within him. He stared down in disbelief at his own body, his veneer of stoicism having met its match.

Not done yet. "Now think: 'Class Advancements'. Does anything show up?"

With a shake of his head to clear his thoughts, Bastian nodded. "Yes. A list of...titles?"

"Read them out to me."

"Swordsman. Thief. Assassin. Con Artist."

"Select 'Swordsman'. Choose that as your Advancement."

Considering Bastian's fighting style, a no-frills sword Class would require the least amount of adjusting to. The other Classes weren't suited to a frontal assault against a mob of enemies, anyway.

"There." Simon smirked as Bastian gasped once more, the Advancement taking root inside him. "You've got...twenty seconds, approximately. Familiarize yourself with your upgraded body. After that, the fun starts."

Katarina sighed. "Fun, he says." She sent him an unimpressed glare. "Don't take offense to this, but never invite me anywhere again."

"In my defense, I tried to make this a normal day off."

"True. Maybe we're cursed. Or we've simply gone mad. Would explain why I don't feel as nervous as I rightfully should."

That was all they had time for before the last Barrier broke apart.

The guards had learned their lesson from Katarina's previous Firebolt. They spread out and held up their shields, avoiding much of the blast radius this time. A quick cheer rang out as they prepared to advance.

Sadly, the distraction left them tragically oblivious to the 130 MP Landmine forming beneath them.

*Boom.*

Simon felt a torrent of EXP flow into him as roughly ten soldiers were blown to pieces of chunky salsa. A weaker Landmine variant had been enough to de-leg Armand Calloway, and none of these guards were even remotely in his league.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 20 → 21
Intelligence: 43 → 47

The way was open. Simon turned to face Bastian, a Contractor addressing his Contractee.

Before, he may have ordered the Swordsman to 'break through', or 'cut a path'. Not every soldier here needed to die in order for the four infiltrators to escape. There would've been no reason to indiscriminately slaughter people that Sin Scry hadn't vetted.

But...they'd seen his arm. Any survivors would send a panicked missive straight to Duke Helmund, warning him that a capital-D Demon had arrived in Caelryn City.

Alas.

"Leave no witnesses," Simon commanded.

It took less than half a second for the first to die.

The sheer speed of it startled everyone there. Bastian drew his blade, rushed forward, and pinned a guard to the wall before the shing of his sword unsheathing had finished filtering through the air.

For several moments, no one moved. Not Simon, not Katarina, and not the guards. Bastian seemed most surprised of all, his mouth agape.

Then the soldier gasped his last death rattle, and the spell was broken. A guard cried out to rally his comrades – only for it to be cut short by the merciless edge of a blade severing his neck. Another raised her sword to avenge her friends, yet she didn't have time to swing even once before a precision lunge pierced her heart.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 21 → 22

4 stat points added to Unspent Points!

Perhaps the soldiers could've mounted a defense if they'd been at their best, but Simon's Landmine had already wrecked their front line. They were vulnerable, off-guard, and wholly unprepared for an abrupt shift in momentum.

What followed was no more than butchery.
Bastian's increased Dexterity had turned him into a whirlwind of steel, dodging attacks as if they were in slow-motion, ending lives with targeted strikes on vital areas. His increased Strength had transformed him into a human battering ram, violently overpowering any soldiers that managed to block his attacks. His increased Vitality had rendered him virtually unkillable, shrugging off moderate wounds that would've normally forced him to retreat and reevaluate.

He wasn't invincible. Cutting off a limb, stacking injuries to whittle down his HP, inflicting a debilitating wound to his head or heart – there were ways to halt his advance. But while he was facing trained soldiers with decent affinity for mana, a cut above your average bandit fare...

They weren't elites. Far from it. Bastian's keenly-honed expertise would've demolished any of them in a fair fight, and that was before his Level nearly doubled, granting him the body of a man blessed by providence.

A synergistic melding of skill and talent had been born.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 22 → 23

4 stat points added to Unspent Points!

And already exceeding expectations, Simon thought, smiling as he gained Levels without having to lift a finger. Who says you can't find good help these days?

EXP kickbacks were one of the main advantages of Granting a Boon. All the benefit, none of the effort.

As his Contractee dutifully collected Experience for him, Simon stepped towards Cyna. The rebel woman was only slightly cognizant of her surroundings, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused. She certainly wouldn't be walking anytime soon.

If I were a real Demon, you'd be dead. My Contract with Bastian mentions nothing about preventing me from harming you. He would've noticed that if he wasn't desperate and pressed for time, but I suppose that's how Demons operate – twisting the situation until people condemn themselves of their own volition.

Luckily for his most recent employee, Simon was a nice boss to work under. He honored the spirit of the Contract more than the fine print and loopholes.

Well, at least until he struck a deal with someone he wanted to screw over. Hadn't happened yet, but it was inevitable.

"I'll carry Cyna," Simon told Katarina. "My MP is low, and I'm much less effective without spells, especially against multiple enemies at once. You provide covering fire for Bastian. I'll drop the dead weight and jump into the fray if it looks like he's starting to struggle."

Kat nodded, darting out into the hallway as Simon secured their objective. Cyna was a tall woman, but that hardly mattered to a Level 20+ transmigrator. The rebel felt as light as a feather over his shoulder.

He exited the room and stepped into a bloodbath. Between the Landmine and Bastian, the guards' numbers had been reduced by half. They were regrouping, forming a solid defensive line, but it was too little too late. Katarina's Firebolts were already sowing havoc among them.

Simon was just thinking that he wouldn't need to do any fighting when he heard the stomping of armored boots behind him.

He spun around to find himself face-to-face with three stupefied guardsmen. They'd rounded the corner at full sprint, coming to a stop just several feet away.

Two of them wore light armor similar to the other soldiers, but the one in the middle was decked out in heavy-duty apparel. He was broad, imposing, and had a massive greatsword strapped to his back. His posture spoke of ingrained confidence and an intimate familiarity with violence.

The local captain of the guard, presumably. Why he'd been late to the party, Simon didn't know, but he was here now – and easily within striking distance.

A series of thoughts flashed through Simon's mind like lightning. He was almost out of MP. Cyna was on his shoulder, restricting his movement. Katarina stood close by, unaware of the three soldiers, open to an ambush from behind. No time to warn her. The captain was likely higher-Level than any of the guards they'd dealt with so far. Probably not as high as Bastian, but enough that a pincer maneuver could prove devastating.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

If these three soldiers got past...worst-case scenario, Cyna, Katarina, and Bastian would all fall in rapid succession.

Everything burst into a flurry of motion. Simon dropped Cyna and drew his longsword. The new arrivals went from gawking at his Demon arm to readying for battle. He charged, and so did they.

Simon was a hair faster. With his left hand, he activated the Glove of Minor Power and swung his longsword at foot soldier #1. His boosted Strength blasted through their meager attempt at a parry, knocking the man's blade aside and cracking his skull like an egg.

With his Shapeshifted right arm, he grabbed at the other foot soldier. "Power Smash," he intoned, activating the Skill. He didn't bother with a lengthy Fell Harvest, electing to smash their face against the wall. They didn't get up.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 23 → 24
Strength: 31 → 34
Dexterity: 31 → 32

The guard captain collapsed on him with a titanic greatsword. His teeth were bared, and his eyes blazed with fury and suppressed grief. He sought to purge Caelryn City of this Fell-tainted creature, to exact bloody vengeance for the demise of his two subordinates, who were so callously murdered by an abominable, loathsome Demon.

Despite his weapon's prodigious size, he was unnaturally quick with it – a product of innate mana enhancing his physicality. Simon wouldn't be able to dodge. Not when he'd focused his opening move on eliminating the distractions.

That was fine. He had 31 Vitality and Transmigrator's Body. HP was just another resource to expend. Take the hit, return the favor. Unless the captain was much stronger than anticipated, he shouldn't win a one-on-one duel, even after scoring a free hit.

"Colossal Blow!"

Then the captain's greatsword started glowing with a blazing red aura – a swift infusion of mana, causing his blade to vibrate with the power held therein. He bellowed out the name of his self-styled ability, muscles bulging as he struck with every ounce of strength he could muster.

Flesh was sundered. The greatsword continued unimpeded, cutting through like an oversized guillotine.

Simon's Demonic arm fell to the ground with a meaty plop.

HP: 229 / 310

He lashed out with a frantic kick, knocking the stout, bulky captain back a few feet. Simon glanced over at his side – at the bone and sinew of a stump exposed to open air. For the second time in Valtia, he had lost his right arm.

And for the first time that day, genuine panic crept into his mind.

The wound itself was negligible. Transmigrator's Body saw to that. He barely bled, and sleeping would fully heal him.

Or...would it? His Demonic abilities were linked to that arm, and his Demon Class path wasn't originally a part of the gods' system. What if losing the limb entirely led to unforeseen issues?

He'd already invested so much into his current skillset. If he couldn't utilize Fell mana, then–

The world expanded.

Simon leaned against the wall for support as a wave of disorientation swept through him, a deluge of sight flooding his senses. He was looking at the ceiling...the floor...the walls...the captain...everything, in all directions, simultaneously. As if he'd suddenly gained 360 degree vision.

But not with his eyes. The sight wasn't originating from his body. It was being transmitted to him from somewhere else.

A system message popped into view.

Skill Gained: Remote Detachment (Right Arm)!

Simon recovered at the same time as the guard captain. Both of them prepared themselves for Round 2–

Then stopped cold as the Demonic arm flipped itself around.

Silver claws pushed at the floor, raising up to 'stand' on its fingertips. It drew up to a height that somehow seemed far larger than a dismembered limb should be.

After a moment to steady its balance, the Fell appendage started running with its fingers, skittering forward like a nightmarish black-scaled spider on the hunt for prey.

Well.

That's disconcerting.

The guard captain was frozen in horror. Simon used the reprieve to quickly skim his new Skill's Description.

Arm is detachable...can be reattached at will, good to know. 360 degrees of vision. Able to move autonomously. Follows my instincts, or direct orders. Instincts are superseded by orders. Commands can be verbal or mental.

He wasn't complaining, but he also really hadn't expected this. Was this a bonus from his Demon Class path? Or was it a latent Skill inherited from Kirkelas the Conqueror?

If it was the latter, then the Sealed Demon of Ruination had quite the peculiar set of abilities. Simon would have to ask Kirkelas about it next time they met. Before killing him.

The captain's confidence had melted like snow under a hot sun. He was backing away in a fit of terror, his body quivering as the Demonic arm scurried towards him.

Simon felt a sliver of sympathy. It did paint a disturbing picture. Had their positions been switched, he might've reacted similarly.

However...he also wasn't one to waste an opportunity. The transmigrator called upon Remote Detachment, pointed with his human left arm, and issued a command.

"Sic 'em, boy."

The captain shrieked loudly as the Demon arm pounced on him. Powerful fingers wrapped around his face in a vice grip, claws digging deep as it activated Fell Harvest.

He moved to pull it off, but Simon didn't give him the chance, spearing his longsword into the captain's chest. The man collapsed to his knees, strength fading as the waning embers of his life were Harvested.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 24 → 25
Strength: 34 → 35
Dexterity: 32 → 33
Vitality: 31 → 33

A life has been Harvested!
3 stat points added to Unspent Points!

Alert: Level 25 milestone reached! New options for Class Advancement available!

More Class Advancement options will be available at Level ???

Simon grinned at the last two system notifications. He'd definitely be taking a look at that when he had some downtime.

The fight against the other guards was just about wrapping up. A river of blood had spread throughout the hallway, drenching almost every inch of the floor, so pervasive that it could've been confused for a coating of red paint – if not for the piles of corpses scattered about. One-by-one the soldiers fell, their lives thrown into the meat grinder that was Bastian's unrelenting advance.

It came as no surprise when the guards in the back line started to turn tail and flee. If anything, the only surprising part was that it had taken this long. The soldiers' weakening defenses fully crumbled as more and more of them ran, abandoning the front line to death by sword or crossbow bolt, sacrificing the lives of their comrades for a slim chance at salvation.

Simon was tempted to deem their cowardice a mistake. None of the retreating guardsmen would make it very far. Running served no purpose.

But then again, neither did staying. Even if they'd grouped up, stood together, and fought to the bitter end...nothing would have changed. A decision was only a mistake when there was a better alternative.

Fight or flee, their fates had been sealed the moment that Bastian signed his Contract.

The rebel Swordsman didn't waste a beat as he chased the last remaining soldiers around a corner and into the adjacent hallway. His order to 'leave no witnesses' meant that he was compelled to be thorough. Not that he needed much motivation to kill guardsmen allied with Duke Helmund; as a member of the Hurricane, it kinda came with his job description.

Katarina, no longer needing to provide crossbow support, hurriedly glanced back over her shoulder. She'd heard the sounds of more combat behind her, but had been caught up in ensuring that Bastian didn't get overrun.

She found Simon standing beside three dead bodies, his right arm detached and standing on its clawed fingertips. The transmigrator gave her a reassuring smile, then – in a moment of inspiration – sent a mental command to his Demonic appendage.

It flipped onto its stump end and waved at her.

With a face carved from stone, Katarina looked away, refusing to acknowledge any of what she'd seen.

Chuckling, Simon ordered his lost limb to return home. The arm raced forward with a click-clack of claws on stone, then jumped towards his body.

Stump met stump, their flesh connecting with the ease of attaching a Lego piece. It was a seamless, painless process – far moreso than any magical Valtian healing or mundane Earth surgery would've managed. System-based Skills really are like cheating sometimes, he mused.

Your Level has increased!
Level: 25 → 26

4 stat points added to Unspent Points!

Receiving another Level as Bastian hunted down soldiers was just icing on the cake.

The stronghold felt eerily quiet as the din of battle finally ceased. Simon retrieved Cyna and led Katarina through a gore-filled corridor, stepping gingerly past bodies and body parts, lamenting the blood soaking into his boots. Footwear could be replaced, but these were premium items looted from the slavers' caravan. Top-notch quality would take time to search for in Caelryn's disorganized markets.

They passed by several more bodies in the next hallway. Then a couple more on the third floor below. Bastian's handiwork continued all the way to the first floor of the building, where he stood besides a single unmoving corpse – the last witness he had been ordered to silence.

Bastian's posture stiffened as he saw Simon approach. His eyes flicked towards Cyna, who was slung over the transmigrator's shoulder like an unwieldy sack of potatoes.

The Contracted rebel said nothing. What could he say, at this point? Clause 4 forbade him from harming Simon or Katarina, and Cyna was literally in their clutches. He had zero leverage to work with. If they ordered him to walk into the city and go on a killing spree until he was ruthlessly put down by guardsmen, then...that was that.

His life would be irrevocably altered by whatever words the Demon spoke next.

"Do you know of a tight-lipped healer? Someone who won't spread rumors?" Simon gestured at Bastian, then Cyna. "You guys could use some patching up. Nice work mopping up the soldiers, by the way. Gold star."

No response.

"Also, Kat and I could use a place to stay. Non-sketchy inns are frustratingly rare. It gets old having to look for ones where the proprietor won't stab you in your sleep. I'm assuming that you and Cyna have a love nest or rebel safehouse we can crash at?"

Still no response – although Bastian could no longer hide his expression of complete and utter bafflement.

Yeah. Simon's mouth split into a wide grin. You're gonna be fun.