Page 86 of The Misfit Mage and His Darling Demon

This essence also had a very different look about it. The black lacked the sheen metallic finish like others I’d seen. In fact, there was something necrotic about it, dying similar to the essence that belonged to the demon with sapphire eyes. There were faint flickers of color representing the aura of the unique demon, but like the blue lights that died out as Bez and Mora devoured the feathered demon.

If I had time to study them, observe them, I could figure out if this was a reversible effect or if they’d lost all form of sentience.

The portal above opened, shimmering a luminescent black light.

Eligos walked into the engine room with Bez at his side. I didn’t understand. Bez’s body looked a bit beaten, but there were no restraints, no reason he shouldn’t fight back. Perhaps Eligos had convinced him I was in danger. Once he saw me, he’d realize there was no need to back down.

“Kneel.” Eligos shoved Bez forward, toward his former body, currently impaled by the golden lance. “Now we can add the rest of the essence in your possession to my weapon.”

Bez obeyed, dropping to his knees, his shoulders hunched, his posture sagging, and eyes vacant of essence—even the natural crimson irises and pink replacing the whites. Instead, he stared ahead with dull blue eyes and a fogged-over expression.

I’d witnessed Bez lock enough people in Diabolic nightmares to recognize the symptoms, but I didn’t understand how Eligos had trapped Bez in one. Shouldn’t Diabolics be immune to such things? No. Their elemental strikes were far more effective against each other than anything else. It would make sense they’d be equally susceptible to other Diabolic abilities. I struggled to stand, my body desperate for a break, but my mindunwilling to let Bez suffer another second. The horrors he must be enduring this second, something truly gruesome.

My thighs quaked, sending a tremble through my legs. Eligos had a plethora of nightmares to share with Bez, likely making him relive every awful thing he’d survived in Hell. The few things I’d seen, the handful he’d shared, and the endless eons of suffering he kept to himself.

“Let him go,” I snapped, clenching my fists.

“If it isn’t the little, worthless mage who holds no value without an ounce of essence coursing through your mortal coil.” Eligos approached the railing, belting out his words with boastful diction.

I can play on that.Maybe.

“Worthless. Worthless Walter.” Eligos mused, running his gloved hands along the metal rail. “That was his first true thought of you. You were always worthless to him, and seeing how much you have and how much you will fail him has left him lost in an eternal nightmare.”

“Shut up.” He was lying. The nightmare wasn’t about me failing Bez, was it? The thought ate away at me because I had failed him. I should’ve moved faster, planned better, accounted for everything. Instead, I was worthless.

“I’ll allow you to keep your life if you so wish. Not that it’s much of one. Though, perhaps without a fake devil at your side, you can find a modicum of salvation.”

Fake. I cocked my head. Fake. He knew Bez was a fraud. There was no anger in his tone, no sarcasm, no lilt of resentment for being deceived. He already knew. This wasn’t some revelation he’d been tricked by a demon posing as a devil.

No.

I had replayed every single interaction with Ian and my mother for weeks after the carnage at the Magus Estate, attempting to figure out the subtle cues I’d missed of theirdeceit, their manipulation, their long con. I swore to myself I would never allow someone to make me a pawn in their game of powerplays again, and if I knew anything—I knew Eligos already realized Bez was a fake devil, which meant his goal, his trap, his intentions never involved capturing Beelzebub, but a lesser demon holding a piece of him.

I seethed with rage, pouring mana and saturating the area. It didn’t matter what Eligos wanted, what he learned, or how he learned it. I’d fucking kill him all the same and rescue Bez from this bastard knight’s clutches.

Nearby essence whipped about chaotically, closing in on my building magic. I needed to escape, to reach Bez, to stop Eligos. Aiming my palms at the saturated floor, I whirled the wind until it propelled me up to the railing. The breeze calmed my anxious mind, blissful, and for the few seconds I ascended, all the fear washed away, allowing me to plan.

There was no way I’d outmaneuver this demon, but he believed I was completely incompetent, unable to face true Diabolic strength. Worthless. Hopefully, he’d laugh off my attack the same way the last demon had when Kell retrieved her grenade launcher. I didn’t have a weapon of that caliber or the essence to amplify, but I wouldn’t need it.

Hovering in front of Eligos, I swung a fist. As expected, he didn’t run, didn’t even counter. He just let me bruise my knuckles against his helmet. I continued punching him with each hand, again and again, as the wind kept me afloat. It worked well until I enacted a glamour. I crashed on the metal grates and winced. Pushing upright, I punched Eligos in the torso, eyeing the gaping hole in his chest where dark blue, almost black like a night sky, limbs rolled around each other, coiling and knotting and weaving in a rhythmic pattern.

Just like with the first demon who chased me through the labyrinth, I used a glamour to hide my motives, cloaking thedagger I intended on stabbing Eligos with right in the break of his armor Bez must’ve provided for me. This demon’s arrogance probably wouldn’t even bother checking my glamour, analyzing it, believing it nothing more than a—

“Close.” Eligos snatched my wrist and twisted it until I dropped the Demon’s Demise. “I offer you an opportunity to leave with your life, unbound from a Diabolic, and this is what you do with your ephemeral existence? What a tragic thing you are.”

I ground my teeth, tugging against his grip. While acting a fool, failing to release my wrist, I carefully cast saturation into the grates, trickling it toward Bez. If I could link to him, to his essence, I might be able to shake him loose from the nightmare.

SNAP.

“Ah,” I screamed.

In one quick squeeze, Eligos broke my wrist. He didn’t release my arm but maintained steady pressure, adding to the searing pain that sent a shudder through my aching body.

“You think I wouldn’t notice you slinking toward your false devil with poorly cast magic?” He lifted me off the floor, holding me by my broken wrist. I clamped my teeth to bite back another scream as my arm burned. “I tire of you.”

He threw me off over the railing, sending me plummeting to the lower reaches of the engine room. I cradled my broken arm, pushing the agony away and attempting to channel mana.

I barely cushioned my crash with the ground, bouncing back at the last second with a poorly worded repulsion incantation. I lay there, unable to think, plan—I couldn’t even see straight.

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