Demonic Conqueror [LitRPG, Isekai, Progression]

It took Simon just a minute to confirm what he already knew.

Identify did the heavy lifting – he'd learned enough at the Harvester repository to tailor the Skill properly. He couldn't use it on Marlene, as he'd Identified her back at Caelryn, so it would merely produce the same Description as before. However, there were nine other rebels within her inner circle, which gave him nine more chances.

He got it on the first try.

Simon could see why Marlene had been so hush-hush about the Last Resort. People might have actually started deserting if they'd heard what her endgame was. As a plan, it was fundamentally insane – and coming from him, that was saying something.

The worst part was that he still understood her logic. While some may have balked at injecting themselves with the land's stolen mana to empower themselves, thereby replicating Duke Helmund's depravity, ordinary humans didn't have many ways to level the playing field with him. There was nothing inherently wrong with fighting fire with fire.

It was what came after imbibing the land's mana that threw a wrench into things.

Should I talk to Marlene directly? he wondered. Confront her alone as she rests in her room. She'll probably be more honest if there isn't an audience around. Would put her off-balance if I casually reveal what I've figured out – could give me an advantage.

But...no. Wouldn't work. Even if Simon had a full month to wear Marlene down, he doubted that she would ever change course. Not when she'd built up this plan in her mind for god knows how long. Few people were more committed to a cause than someone who'd discarded their entire life to wage war against society itself.

He knew that firsthand.

Plus, Simon would tip his hand by talking to her one-on-one. The element of surprise was – as per usual – his strongest asset. If Marlene learned that he'd sussed her out, she would take measures to prevent him from convincing anyone else to see reason.

His opportunity to strike would be when she finally explained the Last Resort to everyone. Most of the rebels were going to be shocked and appalled by what it entailed. If he could capitalize on those feelings, magnify them...

Although it would be a difficult prospect. These were the Hurricane, after all; zealots with a dream that meant everything to them. He couldn't imagine them turning back when they were right at the finish line.

Nevertheless, Simon still had to try. The Last Resort was bound to fail, and it would be depressing to watch like-minded people toss away their lives for zero reward.

With a couple hours to kill until Marlene's big presentation, the transmigrator Detached his arm and sent it scurrying around the base. Thanks to a combination of Fell magic and system weirdness, Simon could see and hear through the limb's intangible senses. Made it perfect for spying when Eavesdrop wasn't an option.

Should let me get a feel for the rebels' personalities, he thought. Won't be able to learn much in such a limited time, but every bit helps.

And if nothing else, it gave him something to do. Simon wasn't super great with downtime in general. He hadn't felt the itch that signified a need to make progress in days, and he would like to keep it that way.

He picked out an isolated corner of the mansion and went to work. Controlling his Detached arm to spy on people turned out to be more fun than expected– he was accumulating new gossip material at an impressive rate. Whether or not it ended up being useful was a separate matter, but he now knew of three sordid Hurricane love triangles, so he had that going for him.

The peace and quiet didn't last. Roughly half an hour later, Cyna came to meet him.

Simon regarded her with a look of well-hidden surprise. Partly because she was seeking him out instead of cautiously observing from a distance, but mostly because he'd never seen her with such a haunted expression. She usually wasn't the kind of person that wrestled with silly little things like self-doubt.

"Hello," he cheerfully greeted. Aside from a bit of mild disorientation, it wasn't mentally taxing to speak while simultaneously directing his Detached arm. "Still deciding if you should kill me? I recommend waiting until after our next rendezvous with Helmund, but hey, it's your call."

Cyna let out a deep sigh. "Can't you sound at least slightly concerned that I've been contemplating your death? Among the Hurricane, I am known as a formidable warrior of some renown."

"Some isn't cutting it, I'm afraid. If you were a warrior of legendary renown, or even significant renown, then maybe I'd be sweating."

"Smarmy prick."

"Sure, but am I wrong?"

"Not at all. My assertion remains unchanged."

There was a lull in the conversation. She gripped the side of her arm with one hand, then abruptly drew it back, as if unused to displaying nervous ticks. "I request a Boon of you."

He arched an eyebrow. "I'm guessing this is related to the Last Resort?"

Cyna's expression morphed to one of resignation. "...You know what it is, don't you?"

"Every detail." Simon considered lying, but ultimately didn't see the point. "Secrets don't tend to stay secret around me."

"Do you disapprove?"

"Of the intent? No. If you think that it's a necessary sacrifice in order to kill Helmund, then I can't fault you. There are much worse reasons to abandon your humanity for."

He laced his fingers together. "Do I disapprove of the result? Absolutely. It won't work. You have to realize that."

"Most likely." Her lips crept up into a bitter smile. "Yet what choice do we have? If Duke Helmund will cause this world's end, is any measure we take to stop him truly beyond the pale?"

Simon sat up straighter. "You believe me about Valtia's one-year apocalypse?"

"I..."

Cyna adopted a faraway gaze. "Perhaps. Something about it rings true. I've always felt this notion of creeping unease when I think of the future. As if we're all caught in an invisible trap, steel jaws gripping our legs, completely unaware of the lifeblood steadily leaving our bodies."

After a moment, she shrugged. "Doesn't matter either way. True or otherwise, your Boons grant power, and I need that now more than ever."

Agreed. Simon saw the logic in empowering one of the Hurricane's strongest warriors with retroactive Levels and a Class Advancement. When it came to killing a mortal god, there was no such thing as over-preparing. They would need everyone at their best, with every ounce of strength they could muster.

Didn't mean he wasn't going to haggle. "Boons go hand-in-hand with Contracts," he explained. "I'm planning to oppose Marlene when she reveals what the Last Resort is to everyone. If you want my power, then you'll have to support me then."

Cyna frowned, her voice hardening. "I won't go that far."

Eh, was worth a shot. Simon could tell that she wasn't going to budge on this. Rebels. Always so stubborn. Is this how people feel when they negotiate with me? I probably shouldn't ask.

"In that case, I'll require that you don't warn Marlene about my intentions. Non-negotiable."

A pause, then a nod from Cyna. "Very well. What else?"

She's confident that I won't be able to sway the Hurricane. Can't blame her there.

"It'll be easier to show you what I have in mind." Simon automatically raised his right arm to write the Contract – before remembering that it was currently on reconnaissance duty. "Hold on. Need my arm for this. I'll bring it back, won't take longer than a minute."

"Understood."

"No comments on the missing appendage?"

"I am learning not to question the absurdity that follows you."

The rest of the Hurricane hadn't gotten to that point yet. They screeched as Simon hurriedly sent his arm skittering back to its owner, eschewing stealth for speed. Several of them pulled out weapons and prepared to fight, muttering curses and prayers alike.

In response, he used the Detached limb to produce a note from Inventory reading, "DO NOT BE ALARMED. DEMON MAGIC IS AFOOT." Which did little to assuage their panic, but gave Simon plausible deniability if they complained.

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The sight filled him with a modicum of relief. If the rebels were still this freaked out over Demon stuff, then Marlene was going to have trouble later.

Simon's arm rounded the corner. It made a beeline straight for him, attaching itself to his body with a running leap. Cyna twitched, but showed no other response. Out of respect for her poker face, he didn't needle her any further before forming the Contract.

Clause 1: This Contract will be between the Contractor, known as Simon, and the Contractee, named Cyna Noname. Simon is the initiator of this Contract.
Clause 2: Upon Cyna Noname's acceptance of this Contract, Simon will promptly Grant a demonic Boon to her. This Boon shall vastly increase Cyna's combat prowess.
Clause 3: In exchange, Cyna Noname will never seek to physically harm or kill Simon Cobblestone or Katarina Cartier.
Clause 4: For a period of one year, Cyna Noname must kill anyone whom Simon commands. When given the order to kill, Cyna will immediately carry it out to the very best of her ability. Exclusions to this Clause are: Katarina Cartier, Cyna Noname, Bastian Evergray, and any member of the Severed Isles resistance group known as the Hurricane.
Clause 5: Cyna Noname will share all of her EXP with Katarina Cartier and Bastian Evergray, split evenly between them, up until the point where both Katarina's and Bastian's Levels have caught up with Cyna's.
Clause 6: Cyna Noname cannot reveal to anyone, directly or indirectly, that Simon is aware of what the Last Resort entails, or that he intends to oppose Marlene Besnard.

Similar to Bastian's Contract, except with some insurance added in Clause 6. No tattling to Marlene about what he was scheming. A temporary EXP transfer was in effect as well, with a built-in endpoint for when his Boon-Bearers had equalized their Levels.

Cyna narrowed her eyes. "More reasonable than anticipated. Thought you would attempt to take advantage of my distress."

"I'd rather not waste our time. You don't want the Boon badly enough for me to ask more. With that said, if you try arguing for better terms than this, I'll actually be insulted."

She hesitated. "Hmm."

"What did I just say?"

"Suppose you'll simply have to feel insulted. See, while otherwise fair, your proposed Contract makes no allowances for letting me defend myself from you. In the event of a betrayal, I would be cut down without reprisal."

Simon didn't respond. He agreed that it was a glaring hole in the Contract's logic – he'd merely hoped she wouldn't notice. Extra leverage never hurt, either as soft power or as a future bargaining chip.

He could have tried throwing a canned line at her, like 'Why would I ever do something like that?', but it would've rang hollow. Allegiances were rarely stable in the long-term. He couldn't rule out the possibility that they would be at odds one day.

Still, it wasn't a request he could deny without sounding egregiously suspicious. Nor could he add it in for free as a show of good faith; Cyna was definitely the type to take a mile if given an inch.

"A compromise, then," he said. "One new Clause for your benefit, and one for mine."

Clause 7: The no-harm, no-kill aspect of Clause 3 may be ignored as long as Cyna Noname truly, legitimately believes that her life is in peril as a result of Simon taking action against her. Clause 3 may also be ignored if Cyna Noname truly, legitimately believes that Simon is purposefully plotting her demise.
Clause 8: At least once per day, Cyna Noname must report to Simon for orders, in-person.

Clause 7 wasn't perfectly airtight, but it was close enough, and the minor wiggle room it offered could provide valuable information. Call it a trust test. Boons were a limited resource, and he needed to discern if Cyna would be a reliable long-term employee.

"That's the same stipulation you gave Bastian," she grumbled, eyeing Clause 8. "Don't like it. Restricts where and how I can move."

"I take it you're not used to compromises? The best ones generally leave all parties vaguely dissatisfied."

After a moment, Cyna exhaled. "So be it. Doubt it'll ever pose a problem, anyway."

'Because I'm not surviving past tomorrow,' was the follow-up that went unspoken.

Simon chose not to correct her. "Then we've reached an accord?"

"Yes. I accept your terms."

No sooner had the words left her mouth then two lines materialized below the floating scrawl of the Contract.

Contractor: Simon Cobblestone
Contractee: Cyna Noname

An unearthly voice echoed within both their minds. Passionless, uncaring, distant. The impartial arbiter of Fell intent.

THIS CONTRACT IS FORGED.

The blackened scrawl vanished.

Cyna examined the Boon's sigil as it appeared on the back of her hand. "A...trident? What does it represent?"

The symbol of Kirkelas the Conqueror, Sealed Demon of Ruination. My powers are inherently derived from his.

"It's my coat of arms," Simon remarked. "Branding is essential for solidifying your influence."

Kirkelas was going to be annoyed at the copyright infringement when he eventually broke free – if he ever got the chance to find out. Simon was planning to ambush him the very instant his Warding cage ran out of energy. Preferably with a hundred sacred mana Artifacts firing in tandem.

Helmund took precedence, though. No sense in putting the cart before the horse, or worrying about the Sealed Demon before the not-Sealed murderous Duke out for their blood.

Simon spent the next several minutes teaching Cyna the ins and outs of having Levels. She seemed less baffled by the concept than Bastian had been, but she'd also been primed for it by watching the Swordsman grow stronger than her virtually overnight.

Even so, she still needed a second to adjust when they confirmed that her Estimated Level had leapfrogged from Level 21 to 42, instantly making her the most powerful combatant in the Hurricane.

"So many stat points to allocate," she muttered to herself, with a hint of awe. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"Beyond what I've already explained?" Simon shook his head. "There's no exact science to it. Follow your heart's desire." Unlike with Bastian, they weren't in the middle of escaping from an imperial stronghold, so he could afford to be more hands-off this time.

Cyna's gaze scanned from left to right as she read invisible lines of text. "The notion of vastly increasing my Strength...appeals to me."

Figures. "Specialization isn't a bad thing, but remember to leave some points for the other categories too."

"Based on what I've seen, haven't you and Katarina mostly prioritized Dexterity over all else?

Simon's face scrunched up with distaste. "Ugh. Don't remind me." Dumping 36 points into Dexterity had been necessary to escape Helmund, but he wasn't a fan of having his stats so lopsided. It would take forever to course correct back to a semblance of balance.

Eventually, Cyna moved on to her available Class Advancement. The options she could select were reminiscent of what Bastian's had been.

Thief, Assassin, and Con Artist were back on the menu again. As longtime members of a clandestine resistance organization, everyone in the Hurricane was likely eligible for those. Swordsman had been swapped out for its equivalent – Warrior, a no-frills combat Class that focused on wielding a greatsword to devastating effect.

However, there was also a completely new option: Executioner. It derived its strength primarily from the user's mentality. The more fanatically devoted they were to a cause, the more deadly their strikes would be.

Personally, Simon thought it sounded one step away from drinking the kool-aid, but Cyna was keenly interested. While she was still debating between Warrior and Executioner by the time she left, there was a sparkle in her eye that hadn't been there before.

Good. In the end, it didn't really matter which Class she chose. The important thing was that she was excited about the possibilities.

If she had something to look forward to, then maybe she would stop treating her death like a foregone conclusion.