Page 87 of The Misfit Mage and His Devilish Desires

“This is not the morale boost I was hoping for.” I sighed. “Let’s come up with a plan and figure out who’s best at what.”

Much to my protest, Bez convinced me to stay behind at the shop with Orias so we could reinforce barriers. Being the most humble servant of Lilith for longer than I cared to ask, the octopus demon had a lot of insight for tweaking spells sothat they’d remain resistant to Lilith’s thrashing essence, which lapped at our barrier walls.

Her essence didn’t move with a purpose, mainly on instinct. I wondered how much of her was still in there as she fought to regain herself, reshuffle her mind, restore her lost thoughts. This wasn’t like the tiny piece of devil essence I had, a piece so small it lacked sentience. But after nearly a thousand years of clashing in a battle against Beelzebub, it seemed to have left Lilith riddled with injuries beyond repair.

Mora strutted outside to join Orias and me as we secured the very shallow perimeter not consumed by chaotic essence.

“How’s Kell coming along?” I asked.

Mora shrugged, not exactly informed on the process of restoring a Diabolic orb. I didn’t want to distract Kell, and I knew for a fact if I stayed inside, I’d hover and question and point out everything she did or didn’t do. Plus, I wanted to be out here, at least able to watch Bez from a distance.

“She would’ve healed faster in Hell.” Mora folded her arms, glaring at her destroyed city. “Any Hell, in fact. Instead, she foolishly dived into a world not suited for essence.”

“She didn’t exactly have much of a choice with her limitations on the keys.” I shrugged.

“She only needed the key to escape her sealed Hell,” Mora said. “Once she was in between realms, she could’ve strolled anywhere. Knocked on Hell doors to one of her allied devils. For fuck’s sake, she’s got enough.”

“No way would Her Royal Supreme dare risk exposing herself to an ally in such a state of vulnerability,” Orias said. “She’s rightfully fearful one of her so-called comrades would pounce upon her current state, slaying her in an act of grabbing power and securing their station among the hierarchy of devils.”

“You know, you’re looking as lovely as ever, Orias.”

“You two know each other?”

“Long ago, back when I reigned in Bael’s Hell,” Mora said. “Orias was a young diplomat. He would visit, and I’d entertain him. Though, he did most of the entertaining.”

Orias nodded. “I do miss your Court.”

“This body suits you. The suit, not so much.” Mora grabbed Orias’ vest, tugging at the buttons. “I usually prefer a sturdy mortal body in the bedroom, but admittedly, you look so much better with all your limbs.”

“Seriously?” I blinked at them both.

“What?” Mora smiled. “You wouldn’t believe the things Orias can do.”

“Now might not be the time for tentacle porn,” I suggested, an edge in my voice.

“Shame. Life or death situations are the best aphrodisiacs.”

“If you like, I can accommodate your fancies.” Orias dug a clawed hand into his chest, wedging his fingers between his ribcage like he planned on actually ripping open his body.

“Stop, stop, stop!” I demanded. “I am not watching you rip apart your body so you can bang Mora.”

“What? These are as strong as they’ll ever be.” Orias gestured to the barriers. “If Lilith wants in here, she’ll break through no matter the stop gaps in place.”

“Wally has a point.” Mora gently plucked Orias’ bloody hand from his chest cavity. “It’s important to treat hosts with proper care. I was actually planning on adding this gentleman to my collection. Assuming we all survive this hellish situation.”

“Oh. You have a collection?”

“Yes, quite a versatile selection, in fact.”

“You must show me sometime.”

“Certainly. And you must take care of this body because I hate a torn outfit.” Mora adjusted Orias’ tie. “I’ll have to teach you all the etiquette of building a fine wardrobe if you intend on remaining in the mortal plane.”

I ignored them, focusing on Bez, who flew above the thrashing ocean of essence. Corson used telekinesis to stay afloat, albeit without the grace of Bez. Satan, on the other hand, sat with both his legs hanging over a broomstick while he rode side-saddled and playfully stroked the tip of his broom. He breezed through the air quickly and seamlessly. It turned out he’d possessed a misfit mage of his own and utilized the Pentacles of Power to access our traditional flight styles.

Each demon battled against Lilith’s essence, helping Nature, who rampaged with the strength of every witch, living and dead.

I growled, biting back my own essence. It surged in my core, ready and eager to lash out and strike down Lilith, to help turn the tide of battle, to clash against another devil. The way I’d instinctively defended against her in Hell, in her Hell, I couldn’t help but believe my abilities were being utterly wasted. Sidelined because what?

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