Page 24 of Demon Lord's Proposal

They cry out in surprise as their feet are suddenly trapped. I don't waste the opportunity. With a final burst of energy, I launch myself forward, bringing the bottle down hard on their head.

The impact reverberates up my arm. The assassin sways for a moment, then crumples to the ground.

I stand there, chest heaving, barely able to believe what just happened. The adrenaline begins to fade, replaced by a potent cocktail of fear, anger, and relief.

"Okay, Sage," I say to myself, trying to steady my nerves. "What now?"

I look down at the unconscious form of my attacker. I can't leave them here, but I also can't let them wake up. With shaking hands, I pull some cord from my bag and set about binding their hands and feet.

Once they're secure, I drag them back into the bar, grunting with the effort. I need to find Deus, to tell him what happened. He'll know what to do.

"Deus?" I call out, my voice echoing in the empty bar. "Deus, are you here? We have a situation!"

But there's no response. The bar remains silent and still.

A wave of loneliness washes over me. I'm on my own for this one.

Taking a deep breath, I steel myself. I can handle this. Deus has taught me well, and I've learned more than just how to mix drinks in my time here.

I prop the assassin up in a chair and begin to search them methodically. Their clothes are nondescript, designed not to stand out. No identifying marks or insignia. But as I check their pockets, my fingers close around something cold and metallic.

I pull it out, holding it up to the light. It's a coin, unlike any I've seen before. One side bears the image of a twisted tree, its branches reaching out like grasping fingers. The other side shows a symbol I recognize from my studies of underworld lore – the mark of the Ebon Conclave, a secretive group of elder demons.

"Well, that's not good," I murmur, turning the coin over in my hand.

The implications are chilling. If the Ebon Conclave is behind this assassination attempt, it means I've attracted the attention of some very powerful, very dangerous entities. But why? What could they want with me?

I pocket the coin and continue my search, but find nothing else of note. Frustrated, I step back and survey my captive. There has to be more to this.

An idea strikes me. I hurry behind the bar, gathering ingredients. If I can't get answers the conventional way, perhaps alchemy can help.

Working quickly, I mix a potent truth serum. It's a complex brew, one that Deus had only recently taught me. As I work, I can almost hear his gruff voice in my ear, guiding my hands.

"Careful with the nightshade essence," I imagine him saying. "Too much, and you'll have a corpse instead of a witness."

Once the serum is ready, I approach the still-unconscious assassin. With a grimace, I force their mouth open and pour the liquid down their throat.

Now, all I can do is wait.

As the minutes tick by, my mind races with possibilities. Who else might be involved? How deep does this conspiracy go? And most importantly, where is Deus?

The assassin begins to stir, groaning softly. I tense, ready for anything.

Their eyes flutter open, unfocused at first, then sharpening as they take in their surroundings. When their gaze lands on me, I see a flicker of surprise, quickly masked.

"Good evening," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "I think it's time we had a chat."

They remain silent, glaring at me defiantly. But I can see the truth serum taking effect, their pupils dilating slightly.

"Let's start with something simple," I continue. "Who sent you?"

The assassin's jaw clenches, fighting the compulsion to speak. But the serum is too strong.

"The Ebon Conclave," they grit out, looking furious at their own admission.

I nod, having expected as much after finding the coin. "Why? What do they want with me?"

This time, the answer comes more easily. "You're a threat. Your power... it's growing too quickly. The angels fear what you might become."

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