Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 13 - Confronting your Daemons - Part Two {Rewrite}

After lunch, I continued teaching Nadine and our students while keeping a close eye on our patients.

As I had suspected, EXP was awarded for every degree of severity reduced from an illness and most of the Serpent-Kin were now entirely cured, with only the most seriously ill now remaining bedridden.

Unsurprisingly, most of those who had recovered were now very interested in learning to become Surgeons themselves. So I agreed to give them an introductory primer later in the evening and have Nadine give them a condensed version of today's earlier lesson as a form of revision for her.

As the sun began to set, I was heading towards the cooking fires for dinner when I was intercepted by Toofy and the Serpent-Kin Asra.

“Eggs hatching!” Toofy declared ecstatically, grabbing my hand and pulling me in the direction of the Grove.

Asra nodded emphatically but said nothing.

Hurrying to the treefort, I awkwardly lingered for a moment on the stairs when I saw Hana sitting alone by the fountain. I had a distinct impression that she wanted to be left alone, so I kept moving and entered the storeroom. Standing on the side of the room opposite the pack containing the mana stones gathered up until this point, I nervously tried to put them out of mind.

Gric, Qreet and Dar had apparently been waiting for us and had laid out the remaining twenty-two eggs around the floor, roughly a foot apart from one another. Similarly, they had surrounded each egg with a small pile of food and left a much larger pile in the middle of the room.

Noticing my curious focus on the food and strange positioning of the eggs, Gric waved at Asra and gave him a telling look.

Apparently understanding what that meant, Asra gulped and nodded, “Ah, Lord, the food and possitionss of the eggss iss to disscourage Daemon hatchlingss from fighting one another,” he explained nervously, “Apparently, they are quite violent,” Asra shuddered and backed slightly away from the closest egg, or tried to.

Toofy apparently didn’t agree with Asra and wanted to move in for a closer look. Since she was firmly holding Asra’s hand, it left him with little choice but to move closer instead. “Just babies,” Toofy giggled, giving the egg an experimental poke.

Asra looked like he was seriously contemplating gnawing off his arm.

Toofy apparently didn’t miss this either and grinned wickedly at Asra, “Asra try run, Toofy tell Urzhas you cry!” She threatened warningly.

Asra paled further, his cheeks flushing a little with anger, “Y-you wouldn’t!” He stammered.

Toofy grinned wider and pulled Asra down to her eye level, “Toofy will!” She confirmed eagerly.

The fight went out of him and Asra submitted.

Toofy cackled and dragged Asra’s arm forward, “Touch egg! Feel baby move!” She insisted excitedly.

With the faintest glimmer of fight left in his eyes, Asra seemed to briefly consider making a break for it, but quickly relented and hesitantly touched the egg.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment that the egg wobbled violently and cracked.

Recoiling from the egg in terror, Asra tumbled backwards and very nearly sent Toofy flying. He probably would have done it if Toofy didn’t have his wrist in a vice-like grip.

Toofy squealed excitedly and was back on her feet again in moments, dragging Asra back towards the eggs again.

Asra gave me a pleading look, but I initially pretended not to notice. If Toofy tried taking things too far, I would intervene, but for now, it just seemed like she was getting over-excited about the eggs hatching. However, upon hearing Asra whimper a little, either in pain or fear, I decided it would be cruel to just let it continue. “Toofy, why don’t you let your friend go? I think you are hurting him.”

Toofy looked surprised and glanced down at Asra’s wrist, the minor movement revealing her pointed nails had broken the skin, causing him to bleed slightly. “Oops!” Toofy quickly let go and tackled Asra in a hug, “Toofy sorry!”

Winded and left in no position to be able to reply, Asra desperately turned to me for help again.

I was just trying to think of how best to deescalate the situation when the egg that exacerbated most of the problem began violently rocking too and fro as it cracked open. “Toofy, the egg is hatching!” I declared with exaggerated excitement.

“Egg!” Toofy yelped, shoving herself off Asra and diving headfirst towards the egg, her eyes wide as she watched it wobble and continue to crack.

Gric had slowly made his way over as well and had gathered a faint nearly imperceptible amount of azure coloured mana around the tip of his right index finger.

All at once, the egg’s shell was pushed apart and a small Daemon tumbled out and onto the small pile of food. Before it even had time to so much as breathe, Gric poked it’s forehead with his finger.

Almost immediately, the status alert announced that the Daemon hatchling had joined the Settlement.

This process was repeated another twenty times over the course of the next couple of minutes, a few occurring near-simultaneously, proving Gric’s preparations prudent as the hatchlings very quickly acted upon a primal hunger and tore into whatever was in their immediate vicinity.

In the wake of the hatching frenzy, there was one unhatched egg remaining, and so far as I could tell, it had made no signs it was going to hatch.

Initially distracted by patting the babies, it didn’t actually take Toofy long to notice the abnormality either. “Egg no hatch?” She asked curiously, wandering over to take a closer look.

Gric gave a low rumbling growl to Qreet and Dar before moving in to take a closer look. Lifting the egg and holding it up directly in front of his face, Gric stared at the egg for over five minutes before putting it back down again.

“What is it?” I asked, already suspecting the worst, “Is it...Not going to hatch?” I awkwardly changed my words as I was unsure how Toofy would take the news.

Gric scratched his chest slowly with the claws on his larger right hand, “Perhaps,” he rumbled thoughtfully, “Hornless-take-longer. Can’t-gather-mana-fast-enough-to-compete.” Gric motioned to the voracious horde of recently hatched Daemonlings that were in the process of ripping, tearing and chewing their way through a mountain of eggshells and assorted meats.

I realised what he meant and felt a little sick. His confirmation of my earlier theory regarding the Daemons horns was overshadowed by the very real probability that Gric, Qreet and Dar would have very likely murdered their way through the other unhatched eggs if they had been entirely left to their own devices and very possibly turned on one another soon afterwards. After suppressing that horrible train of thought, I noticed that the recently hatched Daemonlings did in fact only have a single horn protruding from their forehead.

Unlike Gric, Qreet and Dar, the newly hatched Daemonlings horns were not placed symmetrically and seemed to be anchored at random anywhere on their forehead. In most cases, it was probably fine, but a couple of Daemonlings had lost some level of vision to an unfortunately placed horn and its surrounding bone and muscle encroaching over an eye.

Regarding those few, I felt relatively certain that they would outgrow the worst of it. Like humans, the Daemons would likely grow enough that the obstructing bone and muscle would migrate slightly farther from the eye and restore most of their vision in the process. Not that the Daemonlings seemed to mind all that much.

“Is there anything we can do to make it hatch faster?” I asked, aware that Ushu would very likely begin asking for similar access once his people were better situated and I didn’t want a potentially cannibalistic Daemonling going on a murder spree.

Gric shifted uncomfortably for a moment before replying, “Yes,” he replied flatly.

I waited a couple of minutes before realising a further answer was not forthcoming, “Which is?” I prompted, using a firm tone to make it clear that I was not going to just let the issue go.

Gric shifted uncomfortably again, “Injecting-mana-directly,” he rumbled, sounding profoundly uncomfortable, “It-is-not-the-Daemon-way,” Gric rumbled.

Toofy picked up the egg and pressed her ear up against it, squinting her eyes tightly shut as if she was trying to hear the Daemonling moving around inside.

“Why not? What's the problem with that method?” I asked warily, somewhat certain that it had to be pretty serious for Gric not to seriously consider it an option.

“It’ss a paternal imprint Lord!” Asra interjected timidly, “It’ss how hatchlings recognisse their parentss.”

Despite his momentary annoyance at being interrupted, Gric seemed content to let the issue go and nodded.

“Wait, Daemons don’t do this?” I asked, more than a little concerned by the potential reasons for such a practice.

Gric hissed in aggravation before quickly gaining control over his emotions again, “Family-breeds-weakness,” he stated coldly and both Qreet and Dar nodded in agreement.

They were serious...

It was probably my own bias of spending my early life without parents, just a government recognised carer, but there was no way I was going to let this slide. “I want to be very clear. If anyone in my Settlement is responsible for...making an egg, they will damn well look after the life that hatches out of it! Understood?”

The three Daemons nodded with near comical looks of existential horror on their faces.

*Crukcrik*

Drawn to the sudden cracking sound, I was relieved to find that Toofy hadn’t smashed the egg open out of impatience.

“Egg hatch!” Toofy declared proudly, “See?!” She thrust the violently shuddering egg up towards me so I could take a closer look.

However, just as Toofy did so and I leaned down, the egg suddenly exploded, sending eggshell and goo splattering in all directions, which was mostly my face at that point.

Adamantly standing my ground through force of will, since I could hear Daemonlings scurrying around for food and didn’t want to crush any of them by mistake. Instead, I hiked up my tunic and used the lower portion to wipe my face clean while making a mental note to thoroughly wash it later to prevent salmonella poisoning and conjunctivitis.

“Cute baby!” Toofy squealed excitedly.

Looking back down at Toofy I could see that she was cradling an albino skinned Daemonling with transparent crystal-like horns. Unlike the others, this Daemon had a veritable crown of horns ringing its head, beginning at either temple and looping around the back of its head. It also had a larger horn protruding from the centre of its forehead like Gric. Much to my surprise, the Daemonling was making no attempts at attacking Toofy at all, seemingly content with greedily licking off the egg gunk spattered on her face.

“Heehee baby tickles!” Toofly giggled while gently stroking its back with one hand. Judging by the absence of a second tail, I assumed it was a girl. So that and the knowledge that it was less than a couple of minutes old left me feeling far less weirded out than I would have been otherwise given the circumstances.

“Are you going to recruit her?” I asked Gric pointedly.

Gric looked stunned and took a few moments to react, “Yes...” He agreed reverently, gathering mana to his forefinger again as he approached the albino Daemonling to recruit her.

As if sensing his presence, the albino Daemonling stopped what she was doing and turned to face Gric, her eyes emitting a faint ruby light as she stared the larger Daemon down with the dismissive arrogance of someone considering something normally far beneath their notice.

“Pretty eyes!” Toofy exclaimed, turning the Daemonling around so she could get a better look.

Surprisingly, the albino Daemonling didn’t put up a fuss, instead taking the chance to release a dismissive sniff and turn away from Gric entirely.

Gric staggered as if he had been struck by a mortal blow. “Not...Worthy...” He hissed defeatedly.

Assumedly, because the albino Daemon has more horns, Gric believed that she was his superior, in the same way that he was superior to Qreet and Dar, who were in turn the superiors of all the other Daemon hatchlings.

It kind of made sense, that of the original trio, Gric was noticeably ‘bigger’ overall than the other two, so could be assumed to be stronger. But Gric easily had close to a couple hundred pounds on the newly hatched albino Daemonling, so there was an obvious artificially inflated component to their strength hierarchy. It was more of a competitive caste system than a true meritocracy driven competition of strength.

Letting out a deep sigh, I looked back at Asra, who was safely located by the doorway and keeping a wary eye on the Daemonlings. “Could you please fetch Underlord Ushu? I need him to recruit a Daemon.”

Asra looked taken aback for a moment, gulped hard, nodded then turned and ran down the stairs.

Technically, I could probably gather enough mana to do it, since I had consumed that manastone, but I really didn’t want to risk something going wrong. Like going on a manastone fuelled bender and murdering everyone...I needed to talk to someone who knows more about this, like Jacque...

“Baby hungry?” Toofy asked, pulling out a piece of meat from her pocket and offering it to the Daemonling.

The albino Daemonling bared its teeth and whined pitiably, a far cry from its prideful persona of a moment prior.

“Aww, hungry baby eat,” Toofy cooed, holding the piece of roasted meat close to the Daemonling so she could get stuck-in.

Warbling her thanks, the albino Daemonling began tearing into the meat with ravenous abandon, ripping, tearing and swallowing as fast as she was able.

After a few minutes, Ushu came hurrying up the steps and very nearly tripped over one of the Daemonlings roaming the floor. “Ah! I mean, You ssent for me Lord?” He asked somewhat awkwardly as he worriedly kept an eye on the hungry Daemonlings.

“I want you to recruit the last Daemonling to the Settlement,” I explained, pointing to the albino Daemon in Toofy’s arms.

Ushu nodded obediently and very carefully made his way across the room, making sure to stay as far from each of the Daemonlings as possible.

“Gric, can you organise some more food for them? And make sure they understand the rules too,” I suggested for Ushu’s piece of mind. I was reasonably confident that the little terrors would not do anything without being explicitly told to by one of the older Daemons, Ushu, Hana or myself, but it would be better to be safe than sorry.

“Of-course, Lord,” Gric rumbled deferentially before turning his attention to the Daemonlings, “Follow,” He growled in a decidedly menacing tone.

The Daemonlings scrambled to form up behind him, even going so far as to abandon a scrap of food that was about to go in their mouth.

Taking the lead, with Qreet and Dar close behind, the Daemonlings streamed after them down the stairs.

[Settlement Alert {Tim’s Settlement}: {Ril - Lesser Daemon} was recruited by {Underlord Ushu} as a minion.]

“It iss done Lord,” Ushu declared and stepped away.

The albino Daemonling, Ril, looked directly at me for the first time, revealing that she had no pupils or iris, her eyes were like solid rubies. Even so, I still had the distinct impression that she could see me.

“Baby’s name is Ril,” I told Toofy, knowing that she couldn’t read and would likely appreciate it.

Toofy grinned and turned Ril around to look her in the eyes, “Hello Ril! Me Toofy!” She smiled wider and revealed her teeth.

Ril copied Toofy and opened her mouth in a wide toothy smile.

Toofy giggled happily and hopped around in excitement.

“Ah! Toofy, don't be too rough!” I warned, “Babies get hurt easily!”

Toofy suddenly stopped and looked surprised, “Really?!” She asked in a panic.

I nodded sombrely, even though I was quite sure Daemons were supernaturally tough compared to a human child, it was still a good idea to exercise caution and establish a precedent.

Toofy hugged Ril gently, “Toofy Sorry Ril, Toofy be careful.”

Surprisingly, Ril hugged Toofy back, chittering something unintelligible but obviously intended to be supportive.

“Maybe we should go get some more food for Ril to eat?” I suggested trying to brighten the mood again.

Toofy grinned, “Kay!” She agreed eagerly.

“You can show Ril to the others too!” I encouraged her as we left the storeroom, feeling far less on edge once I was halfway down the stairs.

To her credit, Toofy took the stairs very seriously and made sure of every step before taking the next.

“Tim?” Hana called out quietly, just as I was about to leave the Grove, “Could you stay? I want to talk.”

Waving to Toofy and Ushu to go on without me, I turned back towards the fountain. It was probably for the best that we spoke in private. Slowly making my way over, I sat down by the fountain and waited to hear what Hana had to say.

Hana didn’t say anything or even make a sound for over a few minutes, then quite suddenly she turned to face me but was unable to look me in the eyes, instead averting her eyes to the side, “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I was wrong about you, you aren’t like them, like him!...” There was a brief flare of anger in her voice, her expression darkening before turning lax again. “I just wanted you to know that I wouldn’t have left...Just because you are one of them I mean...I...” Hana balled her hands into fists so tight that they began to tremble, “I actually wanted you to be one of them! I want him dead! I want my family back! I want him to suffer for what he stole from me! I wanted you to kill him for me! I would have given you everything you asked for...” She unclenched her fists and tried to wipe away the tears that began streaming down her face.

I didn’t know what to say, so the silence just continued to drag on between us. Hana hadn’t really apologised and my opinion of her hadn’t exactly improved after being informed that she would have been fine with me being a murderer on the condition that I murder someone for her.

“Say something!” Hana demanded, “ I can’t stand it! Just say something!”

I guess I could now see what Nadine had meant when she insisted that Hana needed someone to talk things through with. “Tell me about your family,” I suggested.

“W-what?!” Hana stammered, “Why?!”

“Because you miss them,” I replied bluntly, “Because you are terrified at the prospect of the last part of them disappearing forever.” It was just a guess, but it was how I felt when my Mum died. It was the only thought that kept me going sometimes, that the final piece of her was living on inside of me, and I would not be the one responsible for extinguishing it.

The silence dragged on again, but Hana seemed to be thinking over what I said, so I gave her all the time she needed.

Hana took a deep breath to steady herself before speaking, a weak melancholic smile on her lips, “Sakura was mother’s eldest. She was so much like her too, strict, disciplined and wanting things to be just so,” she motioned her hands for emphasis, “But she was kind too, always helping us when we were in trouble with mother...” Hana sniffled and laughed a little as she wiped away a fresh tear, “I still remember when Tsubaki and I left home on our first great adventure and got lost. Mother was furious when she found out, I had never seen her so angry...But Sakura lied, she said she was the one who chased us away from home for annoying her...” She shook her head and quietly laughed again, “We still got in trouble because Tsubaki didn’t realise Sakura was trying to cover for us and gave us all away. She was always doing things like that, acting first without thinking, equal parts reckless and brave...” Hana was quiet again for a short while, “She was the first of my sisters The Destroyer took from me. It was only because of Tsubaki that I managed to get away at all...For whatever demented reason, The Destroyer concentrated his efforts on chasing her...It didn’t seem to matter how much magic Mother and Sakura threw at him, The Destroyer just ignored them and kept yelling things at her.”

Hana stopped talking and a haunted look took hold in her eyes.

“We kept screaming at her to run, to leave it to mother, but she refused,” More tears ran down Hana’s cheeks and she made no attempts to wipe them away, “That’s not what a hero does,” she sobbed brokenly, “That was the last thing she told me...right before he killed her...” Hana growled and clenched her fists in anger, nails biting deep enough into her palms to draw blood, “That sick fucker laughed as he tore her heart out and burned her heart-tree to ash. He knew the entire time, he had just waited until she was completely helpless to finish her...He killed Hanaye and Reika while fighting Mother...He didn’t even do it on purpose, their heart-trees caught fire and nothing we did would douse the flames...” Hana began rocking back and forth, “I can still hear them screaming for us to help them!” She broke down and continued crying for a long time before she managed to pull herself together enough to talk again, “They never deserved that! Reika was so kind and gentle! She took care of all the flowers in our home! And Hanaye was always ready to listen to you, no matter how petty or stupid you had been to her...I always thought she was the most beautiful after mother, she was the one who looked most like her and had her delicate features...” She went quiet for a moment, but sobbed and shook her head, “You know, I spent what felt like most of my life hating my sister Kohana. She was always such a bitch to me, always trying to get me into trouble and telling me how stupid I was and how I would never be as beautiful as her. The last time we spoke, I...I told her that I wished she was dead...Kohana died buying time for me to escape...I fucking hate her!” Hana wailed helplessly, making it clear she meant the opposite.

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think of anything that would trivialise what she had and was continuing to go through. While my Mum had been my whole world, she was still only one person. Contemplating losing her six times, on the same day, my brain refused to process it.

“What am I supposed to do?” Hana demanded, her voice raw with conflicting emotions, “I miss them all so much, and I hate that bastard for taking them from me! But I can’t fight him! He is too strong!”

“Live,” It took me a moment to realise I had spoken aloud.

Hana stared uncomprehendingly at me, likely just as surprised as I was.

“Live,” I repeated, inspired by the words of my grief counsellor, “Live on knowing that the best of those you love lives on inside of you.”

Hana just continued staring at me for a while, but eventually, she snorted softly and shook her head, “Mother would have liked you...You aren't like the others. The ones that hurt her, that made her angry all the time...”

A lengthy silence passed between us before Hana spoke again. “Tell me about your family, the one you had before. Mother didn’t speak of the other world often, only when she was angry...”

I nodded slowly and tried to organise my thoughts, but it quickly proved quite hopeless, so I just decided to start speaking instead and figured the words would fall where they may. “I was alone in the beginning. My own mother threw me away, I was told later that they found me in a dumpster, it's where you throw away garbage, trash, things you don't want,“ I explained awkwardly, flinching at each description, “Someone found me, and I became a ward of the state. Basically, the government became my parents, sort of. I was raised by someone more interested in being paid by the government for the service than any thoughts about what was in my best interests. One day, I ran away from home. I had always wanted to see the ocean. I had seen so many pictures, but my foster parents never let me go. I had decided that even if it was the last thing I did, I would go see the ocean with my own eyes.” I smiled wanly as I recalled stumbling over the dunes and tumbling down the embankment, “That was where I met my Mum. She said it was her favourite place in the whole world and that she would be happy to share it with me if I wanted to.'' I let out a deep sigh and shook my head, “Mum didn’t adopt me right away. She couldn’t. There were a whole bunch of legal hoops she needed to jump through, I didn't understand any of that at the time and I thought that she had abandoned me. But after a few months, there she was, standing at the door and telling me I was coming home-” I couldn’t help but choke up a little recalling how I had felt in that moment, “-I had never felt so happy, to know that somebody wanted me, that I was loved.” I shook my head and smiled, “I had never been so happy, I felt so many things I hadn’t even known existed or had forgotten about just to try and make life more bearable. For the first time I was truly alive. Just the thought of my Mum being there for me was enough to make it through each day with a smile on my face. No matter what people said or did, I could ignore it so long as she was there waiting for me...”

Cupping some water from the fountain in my palm, I drank it down to wet my throat and give myself a moment to prepare for what I had been dreading most.

“One day, I found out that my Mum was sick and was not going to get better. I decided that I was going to look after her, it was the least I could do after all she had done for me. Mum wouldn’t hear of it, and made sure I kept going to school to prepare for University. She kept insisting that I plan for my future. But each day she remembered a little less and took longer to recognise me. Day by day she continued deteriorating until I barely recognised her anymore. It’s hard to remember what she looked like before...But I still hoped that there would be some sort of miracle, that in spite of everything, I would just wake up one morning and she would be good as new again. Only, when I woke up one morning and went to check on her, she was gone. I knew there was only one place she would go, so I ran out of the house to find her and bring her back. Even though I knew it was already too late, following the doctor's advice was the only thing really holding me together at that point. So I needed to bring her home. Only, when I found Mum, she was just about gone already. She looked at me like I was a total stranger, smiling as she explained why this was her favourite place in the whole world. This is where I met my fiance Ryan and found my boy Tim...” I broke a little inside repeating Mum’s final words aloud. It forced me to remember holding her while I waited for the ambulance to arrive, the despair I felt upon realising she was already gone and I would never be able to speak with her again...

A long silence passed between us.

“Sorry...” Hana said quietly, “I had thought your family would be more like mother’s...I...I’m sorry Tim.”

I nodded but said nothing, the pain was just about all I could feel and I didn’t trust myself to say or do anything right now. After a while, I got up with the intention of heading straight to bed. I wanted to try and sleep through the worst of the pain, as long as it would take for it to recede back to a dull and manageable ache.

“W-wait!” Hana stammered, “Where are you going?..”

“Bed,” I replied numbly, doing my best to distance myself from the pain, before it was able to overwhelm me again.

“Can’t you stay? Just a little longer?...” Hana pleaded, “I...don’t want to be alone...”

I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder to look back at her. I wanted to say no, stumble into bed and fall asleep forever. But the familiar pain I saw in Hana’s eyes sapped my resolve. She was foundering and was looking for something to hold on to. Anything that would keep her from drowning. “Fine...” I croaked and sat down by the fountain again. Even though I had agreed to stay, I was still doing my best to distance myself from the pain of the reawakened memories.

I wasn’t sure when she had done it, but at some point, Hana had moved in beside me and was now leaning against my arm.

Staring vacantly up at the sky, I tried to remember what Mum looked like before she became sick. There was no real way for the pain I was feeling to get any worse, so I revisited them all. Some were nearly forgotten, most were innocuous and boring, but a treasured few actually made me feel strangely happy in spite of the pain.

Waking up early, I was surprised by how much better I felt. Even though some of the pain still lingered and was still fresh in my mind, it was far more manageable than it had ever been. I snorted and shook my head as I considered what my grief counsellor would think of that development. Being transported to another world or very likely a different dimension had not been one of his recommended steps for bereavement. Although I guess that says more about me than him, that something so radical had been necessary.

There was still a significant problem, I didn’t know how to help Hana with her pain. Even though we had both lost people we care about, it was obvious that our pain was not the same. I lost my Mum to illness, Hana’s family was murdered in front of her and to make things worse, the murderer was still assumedly running around unchecked.

Obviously, the thing Hana would want most is for the murderer to be killed for his crimes. But I had no idea if I was even capable of something like that. Putting aside my not inconsiderable moral qualms regarding coldblooded murder, I didn’t think I had the actual capability to make the attempt itself.

Just because The Destroyer was assumedly here on the third floor, did not mean that he was a third or even fourth-tier monster.

Jacque had demonstrated herself capable of moving through the different floors with near impunity, so why would The Destroyer not be capable of the same feat?

The only way I could think of being able to fight someone like that with any real chance at success was to begin regularly consuming manastones...

I continued trying to think of alternatives, but everything just left me with the impression of my own profound cowardice. I had a very real idea of how addictive the manastones were, but refusing not to use them was not a sign of strength, but a reflection of my own fear and weakness. I had already demonstrated that I was capable of walking away at just one and even Jacque had heavily implied that avoiding them entirely was a bad idea. So I had to decide whether the risk was worth the potential benefits.

Staring up at the last of the glimmering stars in the slowly brightening sky, I realised that I had already made my choice. I wasn’t going to let people fight my battles for me anymore, this was my life and there were people I wanted to protect. In order to protect them, I needed to become stronger and make hard choices rather than just avoiding them.

Gently laying Hana down by the fountain, I slowly but determinedly made my way up the stairs to the storeroom. It was to my immense relief that I felt no artificial pressure or other telltale signs of addiction driving me forward. I was not eager either, just determined to do what was necessary.

Reaching into the pack, I searched for the largest manastone and carefully pulled it out. It was so strange that monsters were able to have these objects lodged in their brains without serious side effects. Even stranger that all monsters seemed capable of consuming and digesting them like some sort of sugar rock candy.

Dropping the manastone into my mouth, I tested myself one final time, leaving the manastone on my tongue and letting it sit there for a full minute before eventually swallowing. That was another bizarre aspect of the manastones, assumedly you could absorb their mana over time through direct proximity, but it was so slow you wouldn’t even notice it. In direct contrast, the sudden warmth and euphoria flooding through my system made me doubt the passive osmosis was even viable.

Unlike yesterday, I did not lose myself so easily. In a way, the lingering pain helped, somehow stubbornly persisting despite the cascade of endorphins flooding my mind.

Dropping the pack back to the floor, I tested my control by heading for the stairs. In spite of everything going so well thus far, I was still surprised when I realised that I had made it to the bottom steps without incident and feeling no more inclined to head back for a manastone now than when I first left.

After less than a minute, the artificially induced high faded and I was glad to find that I felt just as I had before taking the manastone. It was weird to feel thankful for pain, but it was how I felt regardless.

Finding a small gathering of Serpent-Kin gathered outside the entrance to the Grove, I was not surprised and felt a little guilty upon realising that they were Nadine’s Surgeon students, including those I had unintentionally stood up last night. In a far better mood than I had been in...I can’t even remember how long, I decided to start teaching them all over breakfast.

When Nadine joined us later that morning, I could tell she was aware of what happened last night and was wearing a grin that all but screamed equal parts, “I told you so!” And, “I’m just happy you are happy!”

To get my own back at her, I had Nadine teach a revision class from yesterday and ruthlessly nitpicked her curriculum in the name of ‘best practices’ and ‘improvement’. To her credit, Nadine took it in stride and didn’t seem to mind all that much. Our students didn’t either, the more informal and lighthearted atmosphere encouraged them to ask more questions since it was Nadine who would take the fall and not them if something had been unclear.

Our lessons really did drive home the need for a formal and universal written language to record information. The Bleak-fang’s pictographs were not even close to robust enough for the purpose and I would have to invent just about every other word I needed to use, so it would be far too much work and was frankly something I was not good at. This left us with two real choices, learning a native human language, or that of the Daemons.

As I saw it, each would have its own advantages and disadvantages. One of the primary benefits of choosing a human language would be the ease of facilitating trade and negotiating with the humans later. One of the more worrying downsides would be that any stolen documents would be readily understood by parties with malevolent motives. Using the Daemon language seemed like a more secure option for keeping secrets and stopping information from being stolen, but I didn't know all that much about it either.

I supposed it would be possible to do both, but the prospect of learning both languages myself was a little daunting, particularly given how busy I was going to be for the next week at least. But a formal language for the Settlement would make it much easier for future students to learn the Classes. So much of what I was teaching was so basic that it would take a quarter of the time to just read it and ask questions to serve as quality control later.

Clarice’s lessons probably wouldn’t benefit all that much from academic instruction, but it’s obvious that the more magically inclined Classes have a boatload of theory requirements and complicated details that would make far more sense if you knew about them first before requiring a practical demonstration.

That did raise an interesting question though. If Gric and the other Daemons already had access to a robust language imprinted into their minds since before they hatched, why didn’t they begin life with access to the more theoretical oriented Classes? Or for that matter, the knowledge on how to acquire them?

Feeling like a complete idiot, I realised that I had never checked them in the first place...

*****

Gric felt quite proud of what he had managed to accomplish thus far. Only a little over two days old, he was already well on his way to leading a Daemonic host! Well...The start of one at least.

Every Daemon Warband had to start from somewhere. Besides, the Lord had no shortage of minions, and although they might be weak, squishy, prone to debilitating illness, functionally illiterate and susceptible to emotional fatigue, Gric still saw great potential in their younger and more impressionable offspring.

Weaknesses could be driven out if given the right incentives!

There was of course one minor problem, Gric was no longer at the top of the heap. That position now rightfully belonged to Ril and it was only a matter of time before she would come to claim it. That left Gric with a serious problem and he was unsure of how exactly he was going to solve it.

Gric could theoretically accept Ril’s inevitable challenge and perhaps best her, but that was both unlikely and incredibly unwise.

Ril had already been claimed as the offspring of the Lord’s favourite servant, so harming her in any way was likely to be met with vicious reprisal and demotion. So Gric needed to be clever and think of something else to help him keep his rightful position as Underlord.

There was an idea!

Gric grinned, Ril would have no need for his title, if she already had one of her own! Now he just needed to think of a way to ‘encourage’ the Lord to promote her without demoting him in the process.

Sensing the Lord was headed his way, Gric snarled a warning at the newly hatched Daemonlings. Any of them who embarrassed him in front of the Lord would pay for it dearly later.

Qreet and Dar returned to their customary positions at his flanks and were careful to demonstrate the correct level of deference. Gric and they both knew the score and understood that a demotion for Gric was against their own best interests.

Gric bowed his head as the Lord approached, “Lord,” he growled respectfully and was echoed by Qreet and Dar a moment later.

“Gric, I want to ask you something,” the Lord said impatiently, deliberately skipping his official title and causing Gric to flinch. “Well, I want to ask you a couple of things actually. You know how to read and write, yes?”

Gric was confused, this was not the demotion speech he had been expecting. Eager to please, he quickly rallied and nodded, “Yes, Lord!” Gric hoped he was not courting disaster by adding a slight emphasis to the title as a reminder of his own being absent in the discussion.

“So you would be able to teach this language to others?” The Lord asked thoughtfully, apparently not upset with Gric overstepping.

Gric sighed and nodded again, “Yes, Lord!” He repeated. Even though Gric had never taught the Daemon language to anyone before, he did not think it would be hard. After all, the Lord was a genius and would probably learn something so simple in a matter of minutes if he had the desire to do so.

The Lord nodded and rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “Good. We don’t really have any writing supplies at the moment, but I want the three of you to start teaching the younger Serpent-Kin how to read and write. Once we have better supplies I want you to teach the adults too. You think you can do that?”

Gric swallowed hard, “Yes, Lord!” He repeated mechanically, suddenly panicked at the prospect of trying to teach the young minions something as complex and nuanced as the Daemon language. “Lord?” Gric croaked desperately trying to best think of how to salvage the situation.

“Yes?” The lord asked somewhat distractedly.

“Who will teach you?” Gric asked, trusting in his strong instincts to guide him through this nightmare, “Perhaps, Ril?” He suggested slyly.

The Lord frowned, almost certainly having seen through Gric’s gambit. However, after thinking on it for a few minutes, he nodded slightly, “I suppose that could work, someone needs to teach Toofy anyway, so why not her? Yeah, alright, that’s not a bad idea.”

Gric did his best to keep his smile neutral, “Of course, Lord.”

The lord’s expression suddenly changed, “OH! Right! Gric, do Daemons hatch knowing about any Classes?” He asked bluntly, his eyes boring into Gric’s very soul, “I remembered you talking about the Pact Binder. So I want to know if you know about any others.”

Gric was not sure why the Lord was so driven to know about such mundane topics, but he was more than happy to oblige, “Yes Lord!” Gric replied cheerily, “Would you like me to tell you about them?” This would be the perfect opportunity to ‘encourage’ the Lord to change classes! Gric could barely contain his excitement over how well this day was turning out so far.