Surrounded by a towering oval wall stood Hellspire, one of four cities in the demon territory.
Hovering above the city was the male silhouette.
I flew all the way here from that underground cave. Good thing I did, because I got to sightsee for a bit. Now then, where are you...? There you are! Time for another side quest.
And with that, the male silhouette vanished from the scene once more, heading for a particular structure within the city.
Outside the walls stretched an apocalyptic wasteland crawling with unintelligent monsters of every shape and size.
The lands were also choked with dangerous vegetation—poisonous plants and trees, carnivorous growths capable of swallowing monsters whole.
The distances between the remaining cities were rough estimates at best; only the directions were truly known. Most travellers were far too busy simply surviving the journey to bother measuring the distance between settlements.
The four cities formed a square when viewed from above, with the Demon King's castle hovering at their exact midpoint.
The wall existed to separate the demons from the monsters that would otherwise hinder their way of life with constant attacks. Only one entrance existed, guarded by a demon who lived within the middle of the wall itself.
The giant female demon was a brunette, red-skinned cyclops with four arms and a thin, pointed, orange-tipped tail.
She wore a black corset-style bodice trimmed with deep crimson fabric that accentuated her form, paired with layered red-and-black skirts split for mobility.
A skull-adorned belt cinched her waist, while leather straps and pouches marked her as a seasoned warrior. One shoulder was protected by dark metal armour, contrasting with her otherwise bare arms.
Heavy gauntlets gripped glowing, double-edged axes on each of her four arms.
"What is your purpose for coming here?" she asked in a rough voice, pointing an axe toward a demon.
"You're not even going to ask who I am?" a lamia demon girl answered in a soft voice.
She sat inside a van whose body was reinforced with steel plating and fitted with very large off-road tyres. She wore a suit jacket over a white shirt.
"I only need to know whether or not you're here to cause trouble," the guard explained.
"I understand. I just came from another city to deliver goods." She pointed toward the back of the van.
The guard stared intently at the lamia with orange glowing eyes. The glow faded after a few seconds.
"I sense no lies from you. You may enter." She clashed all four of her axes together.
A magic circle appeared on the gate, causing it to open.
"Thanks." The lamia drove the van through, and the gate sealed once more.
The Demon King's domain was built in concentric layers, each a brutal reflection of power and worth.
The outermost ring was a sprawling slum—a festering wasteland reserved for the weakest and most wretched of demonkind. Trash, excrement, and rotting corpses littered the ground in every direction.
Overpopulation made the stench unbearable; there were almost no proper buildings, only crude shelters pieced together from scrap and ruin. Sanitation was nonexistent in this area.
Most of the demons here wore nothing more than rags—torn, filthy strips that barely covered adults and children alike. Infants rarely survived their first year. Disease, starvation, and exposure claimed them swiftly. The same could be said for the elderly.
Powerless and starving, the slum-dwellers had no hope of rebellion. The one and only time they had tried, the inner sections crushed the uprising in a single night.
Over eighty percent of the outer ring's population was slaughtered. The only silver lining that came from this, was the fact that resources could now accommodate them.
The survivors had learned their place—to exist, endure, and die quietly.
The middle ring was markedly better—a demon equivalent of the middle class.
Here, demons had just enough: modest but solid homes, basic sanitation, steady work, and rudimentary education. Life was predictable and tolerable.
Because they were given enough to survive comfortably, many never felt the need to complain or rebel. They kept their heads down and counted themselves fortunate compared to those outside the walls.
Only a mere handful of the demons from the outer and middle rings ever ascended to the inner section—and only if they displayed a rare, valuable talent.
The innermost ring belonged to the truly elite.
Here lived the wealthy, the privileged, and the genetically superior. Luxurious estates, pristine sanitation fields, elite academies, and every conceivable comfort were in abundant supply.
These demons viewed those from the outer and middle rings with open contempt, considering them little more than vermin. In most cases, they were right.
The inner-circle demons were born stronger, smarter, and more powerful. Only rare exceptions from the lower rings ever matched their natural talent.
At the very heart of the inner ring stood the castle.
It was indeed the largest structure, and it was unmistakable—sharp, ominous architecture adorned with exotic carnivorous plants that lined its grounds like living sentinels.
A tall, flaming spiked fence encircled the entire compound, warning all who approached that this was the seat of true power. This was the home of the first four demons ever born.
Deep inside the castle, three demons had gathered.
The first was a slime, currently compressed to a small size. Its blue-green translucent body pulsed gently.
The second was a massive three-headed wolf with steel-like fur. Each head bore eyes of a different colour—blue, red, and yellow. It sat on its haunches, idly scratching behind one ear with a hind leg, causing a sound the likes of metal scratching metal.
The third was the half-humanoid, half-spider demon. Her upper body was disturbingly feminine, while her lower half remained that of a monstrous arachnid.
All three bore no scars or lingering damage from their recent battles.
Without warning or fanfare, the male silhouette simply materialised in the middle of the room.
I'm here! It declared. Not that any of you can hear me. Doesn't matter anyway. So, what's going on here?
The male silhouette eavesdropped on the demons' meeting as though it had been personally invited, its head tilted in quiet amusement.
"How long do we have to wait for her?" Tarantus asked, her impatience clear.
"She said that she's on her way," Cerberus answered, licking his snout.
"I hate having to wait," Tarantus muttered.
"It can't be helped. It's not like we're currently busy with anything anyway," Menov interjected. "We can't do anything until the time comes."
"Menov is right," Cerberus added.
"Whatever." Tarantus turned away.
As if on cue, two massive doors parted as they slid open, and a figure entered through them.
"Long time no see, you lot," she said with a grin, the doors closing behind her. Her English accent was unmistakable—clipped, dry, and faintly amused.
A female demon stood before them.
She had vibrant red skin, small curved red horns sprouting from her forehead, piercing golden-yellow eyes, and long black hair styled with blunt bangs.
Pointy ears, a heart-tipped tail, and a voluptuous, curvaceous figure completed the picture, her very large chest only emphasising the exaggeration.
Freckles dotted her face, and a small mole sat under one eye.
As for her clothes, she barely wore any. Latex heart-shaped nipple pasties on each of the nipples on her breasts, a black thong with matching high heels, and transparent stockings were all that covered her.
Who's this? The male silhouette approached and examined her, very, very closely.
"They properly did you over, didn't they?" she said with a chuckle. "Well, seeing as your core wasn't destroyed, I assume that master brought you back?"
"Good to have you with us, Urem." Menov said. "And yes, it was master's benevolence that brought life back to us."
"If it hadn't been for master's orders, I'd have killed the lot of you myself for failing to kill mere humans." the succubus spat with a cold look.
"If it hadn't been for master's orders, neither of us would've failed to kill mere humans in the first place." Menov shot back, his gelatinous form plusing with cold intensity.
For a brief moment, the two regarded one another the same way predators would before fighting over a territory.
"Look who finally decided to show up. Took you long enough." Tarantus finally said with a frown.
"I was rather busy trying to avoid the sight of your shameful appearances." Urem replied, approaching.
"You don't get to talk about shameful appearances. Have you looked in a mirror?" Tarantus stepped closer as well.
"Have you? That sorry little scrap of silk barely makes a difference. I can still see those dark nipples of yours, darling." She pinched Tarantus's nipples.
"A-aahh—" Tarantus let out a moan. "Tsk. Let's see how you like it." She pinched Urem's nipples in return.
"Aahh—" Urem moaned, louder and more exaggerated.
This looks interesting. Please continue. The male silhouette voiced with an exaggerated nod.
"Enough!" Cerberus roared.
The two stopped.
"We'll continue this tonight," Urem whispered seductively.
"In your dreams," Tarantus whispered back.
"I rather think you mean in yours, love," Urem continued.
"Behave yourself, Urem. Please." Menov voiced.
"You're more than welcome to join us if you fancy it. We could make it a proper threesome." she suggested with a seductive smirk.
"No thanks," Menov dismissed. "I prefer my women to be dignified and proper, as opposed to you two."
"What's the point, honestly? You're just going to devour them in the end." Urem wondered aloud.
"It's not just about filling your stomach." Menov started. "It's about savoring what you eat. That is what it means to devour."
"Quite the philosopher, aren't you." Urem mused with a deadpan expression.
"I prefer my women feisty, with a little bit of a resistant attitude." Cerberus said with a yawn. "It makes them more tender."
"Well, I don't cater to dogs, so—" Urem began.
"Didn't ask you to," Cerberus interrupted.
"Tsk." She sneered.
"Could we please get to the main reason that we're here? Please." Menov emphasised.
"Fine," Urem reluctantly accepted.
They all sat on chairs custom-designed for their unique features. Cerberus simply lay on the floor on a large rug.
"Let's begin, shall we?" Menov spoke. "Report."
"Who made you in charge?" Tarantus asked.
Menov sighed deeply. "Could we not do this? We've already established this."
"It was a bit unfair, wasn't it?" Urem chimed in.
"Then maybe you shouldn't have thrown a rock."
"She's right," Tarantus interjected. "Using a children's game to decide something that important wasn't fair."
"Then maybe you also shouldn't have thrown a rock as well."
"Tsk. Smart mouth," Urem muttered.
"I don't really care who's in charge," Cerberus expressed.
"You either sleep or participate in the conversation, you can't do both!" Tarantus hissed with an annoyed look.
"Make me," Cerberus said with a chuckle.
"Is that a challenge?"
"I don't know. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't."
"Whatever. There's no point arguing with a mutt like you."
"Calling me names won't change the truth."
"What truth?! What are you talking about?!" Tarantus snapped.
"…" Cerberus only looked away with his eyes still closed, a smirk spreading across his snout.
"Kukukuku!!!" Urem was laughing so hard that tears started flowing from her eyes, her tail swinging side to side as she did.