Searing Sands Corespace, Earth Core #17, Fourth Floor

  Present Day

  Brutal rays of brilliant sunlight scorched the sandy ground of the desert corespace, a desolate land riddled with narrow canyons. The shaded ravines did little to lessen the oppressive heat, and Zertrolk fought the urge to wipe the sweat from his brow. Such gestures indicated weakness, something he refused to do in front of the demon ritualists currently setting up camp nearby.

  The pain demon gritted his teeth as he watched his subordinates work with an irritating lack of vigor, preparing arcane implements and ritual components that they would need to achieve their goal: The liberation of the demon home world, and the release of the legions of their kin that had remained trapped for far too long. Exactly how long that was, Zertrolk didn't know. He hadn't been alive during the wars that saw Lord Vastrozun conquering his way across vast swaths of the cosmos. All he knew was that the lost gods had betrayed their own creations, condemning his people to wither away, isolated and lost to time.

  But soon, they would be free.

  "When will you be ready to begin?" Zertrolk asked the lead ritualist, his words terse. Already he tired of this sweltering pit.

  "The work is proceeding well, commander." The demon, a humanoid female with red skin and curling horns, responded. She glanced up at him, setting aside the tomes she had been paging through. "With another few weeks-"

  "Weeks?"

  Zertrolk didn't emphasize the word. With his aura pressing down on the woman's spirit like a giant boulder, he didn't have to.

  "Yes commander, weeks." The demon met his glare with an even gaze, even as he could feel her shudder beneath the weight of his presence. "Between the multiple fourth floor ritual sites we barely have enough dimension effusion to prepare the diagrams, and all of the sites must be synchronized if we want the effects to layer properly. The barrier between our home and the Labyrinth is divine in nature and won't be easily breached. We will achieve success through caution, not boldness."

  At that, Zertrolk found himself raising an eyebrow. That last part had almost sounded like a rebuke. Subordinate demons did not chastise their superiors, not unless they wanted to meet a rapid and bloody demise. And yet…

  "What is your name, lugren?"

  Lugren were less bulky than bruzaks, another one of the common demon races, and tended to be more magically inclined. The pain demon was intrigued by this woman's brazenness. Few demons would dare speak to him in such a familiar manner.

  "Elyx, commander." The demon straightened to stand at her full height, taking a step back from the desk she had been working on. Why she was keeping her work station amidst the sandy canyon floor instead of within the cleaner confines of her tent, Zertrolk had no idea. "I'm the lead ritualist's assistant, and the component expert for this mission."

  "Tell me, Elyx." Zertrolk said, bending forward to lean on the desk. The pain demon's tall, powerful form easily loomed over the smaller woman, his midnight skin a stark contrast to the dusty, sand swept canyon. "Do you always speak so… candidly, to those above you?"

  "I speak the truth as I see it, commander." Elyx said, still meeting his gaze, although a sheen of sweat glistened on her brow. "Telling you sweet sounding lies will only court disaster."

  Curious. Most of the lesser demons had as little spine as they did talent. Elyx, it appeared, was an exception. How refreshing it was for one of the ritualists to speak plainly to him.

  "Very well, Elyx. You have a few weeks to complete the preparations. In any case, these Earth artifacts, these devices of power, have yet to be acquired."

  "I will do my utmost to see that we are ready to proceed when they are delivered, commander."

  "Good."

  That was longer than Zertrolk was comfortable with, but they couldn't afford a repeat of what happened on the third floor. His hands clenched into fists at the thought of Malice and her utter failure, an unusual show of emotion for the normally stoic pain demon. If only she hadn't gotten herself killed in the disaster. He would have liked the chance to administer a more… personal… punishment. Now, with Lady Ira's attention fixed on him, there was one last chance to set things right. Without the reinforcements the summoning ritual was meant to deliver him, they were light on forces. But commanders in Lord Vastrozun's legions did not make excuses, and Zertrolk refused to repeat Malice's failure.

  That left one more thing to do before he journeyed to the next canyon over, where the Labyrinth core was situated in the searing sunlight of this dimensional space.

  "Thexan, find Vylith. I have an assignment for her."

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  The tall greater demon, Zertrolk's ever-present shadow, bowed before stepping away to search for the assassin. Zertrolk stopped, watching his forces continue to set up their camp in the shade of the canyon, reflecting on the resources he had available. It wasn't all lesser demons, fortunately. While their low levels of magic made it easier for dimension mages to transfer them through the barriers that formed their prison to the Labyrinth's upper floors, the more powerful demons were forced to make the transition the hard way. Smashing through the layers upon layers of impossibly strong monsters of the Labyrinth on the deepest floors until finally, they escaped.

  Few survived that journey. Zertrolk was one of them, and Vylith was another.

  "You summoned me, commander?"

  The words seemed to come out of nowhere, a whisper carried on a breath of wind. Even Zertrolk, veteran warrior and stalwart commander, had to consciously suppress a shiver at the sound of her voice. Calm and flat, yet with the edge of a naked blade.

  "I have a target for you."

  The pain demon turned to regard Vylith, studying the assassin intently. As a wraith demon the edges of her form had a wavering, nearly insubstantial look. She was tall, with a slender frame and surprisingly delicate features that belied her true cunning and bloodlust. Her long, white hair was unusual for a demon, and the way it clashed with her dark tan made her stand out all the more. But it was Vylith's eyes that truly caught Zertrolk's attention. Deep, icy, orbs that conveyed a singular promise.

  "Who?"

  The word cut the air like a knife, and Vylith's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She held her dark robes close around her frame, the garments seeming to meld into the surrounding shadows.

  "A group of wayfarers from the human world." Zertrolk explained, gesturing for Vylith to walk with him. He headed towards his tent, nestled against the canyon wall. "They interfered with the third-floor ritual, according to the survivors. They cannot be allowed to do so again here."

  "Strength?"

  "Low C rank, most likely."

  All the elite demons under Zertrolk's command, Vylith included, were solidly into B rank. A group of C rankers should pose little threat to any of them. Of course, he would have said the same about Malice. Whatever his personal dislike he'd held for her, she had not been weak.

  "These are the ones who killed Malice?"

  "Yes."

  Vylith's expression shifted for the first time, a soft smile playing at her lips.

  "Interesting. So, not complete weaklings. Dead, or captured?"

  "Dead." Zertrolk said firmly. He didn't care if they had any valuable information. They could afford to take no chances with the success of the rituals. "Two who encountered them on the third floor are in there." Zertrolk stopped outside his tent, gesturing inside. "Question them as you see fit and then begin."

  "As you wish, commander." The smile was gone from the wraith demon's lips, replaced by her normal neutral expression. "But there will be no need for questions."

  "Ah, quite so."

  Zertrolk stood by outside the tent while Vylith glided inside, the tent flaps completely undisturbed as she phased through them. There were muffled sounds of startled conversation that stopped abruptly a few moments later, replaced by a spine-chilling, ghostly rushing sound, followed by a pair of soft thumps. Zertrolk ignored the commotion, focusing on the construction of his base of operations. In other parts of the floor, more ritual sites were being prepared. Malice and her other agents had managed to acquire the components required to craft such exquisitely powerful ritual magic, but only barely. His lips tightened as he scowled at the ongoing preparations. All of this sneaking in the shadows, stealing resources, and assassinations. This wasn't what demonic power was meant for.

  Soon, he reminded himself. Soon, his brethren would be free. Finally able to claim their birthright as unchallenged masters of the cosmos.

  This time, there were no gods to stop them.

  The noise from inside his tent slowly faded to nothing. Zertrolk turned, lifting the flap and peering inside his spartan accommodation.

  "Finished?"

  "Yes, commander."

  Vylith stood up from where she had been kneeling on the canvas floor of the tent, looking over her shoulder at him.

  "I know everything I need to."

  The wraith demon withdrew her hands from the hearts of the two demonic corpses splayed out in the middle of his temporary home. There was no blood, not even any visible injuries on the two bodies. Vylith's hands simply slipped out of their flesh as if it were nothing more than smoke. She strode past him, ducking back outside the tent and leaving the two bodies inside. Zertrolk felt a flash of annoyance at that, but another look at Vylith's eyes told him this wasn't a good time to confront her over something so trivial. Killing intent radiated from the wraith demon like rippling waves, parting around Zertrolk's aura as if he were a river in a stream.

  Excellent.

  This is what he needed. Vylith's interest was piqued, and she would follow this task through to the end. Zertrolk just wished that all his problems could be so easily solved.

  "You didn't tell me one of them had a demon race."

  "They do?" Zertrolk asked, surprised. He hadn't gleaned that from the few reports that had made their way to him.

  "The blonde woman. Succubus."

  "Now I understand why Malice was so interested. Don't play around like she did."

  The intensity of her presence spiked. The change was instantaneous, and the pain demon felt like he was staring down the point of a sword levelled at his throat. The sensation vanished as quickly as it had appeared, receding as Vylith took a short breath and relaxed her shoulders.

  "Never. Quick and clean."

  "Good. You're going to have to track them down, we don't know where they went. But after discovering what they did, their home world is a good guess."

  "I'll begin my search immediately."

  Apparently, Vylith meant that in a literal sense. She abruptly turned, striding out of the growing camp and down the winding canyon towards the corespace entrance. Zertrolk watched her go and suppressed a sigh. No small part of him was glad to have the assassin away for a while. His other elites were easier to handle, but Vylith? It was impossible to tell what the woman was thinking. At least this time, she only killed two of his staff.

  Unfortunately, this wasn't his only problem. Who knew what those wayfarers had learned about their plans, or who they were going to tell them to. The Earth-linked corespaces were difficult to find for anyone but a local wayfarer, but the top performers would be on the fourth floor soon. If they didn't move quickly enough, someone would find them.

  Actually, Zertrolk reflected, perhaps that wouldn't be so bad. The pain demon had been so busy preparing the ritual sites that he'd had little time to inflict torment in these past few weeks. A group of wayfarers stumbling into his operations would be such a good way to fix that.

  With that happy thought in mind, Zertrolk got back to work.