After a couple of days (I presume; the sky is always angry red, so who knows how much time has passed) of lazing around there is another summoning.

This time it's is accompanied by a message declaring that What'sitsname Empire wants demons for war against elves, with the price simply the chance to run amok in the mortal world. This 'work is its own reward' approach hardly interests me, so I'm going to pass. But the summoning just wouldn't stop and kept flooding the final part of the message everywhere I go.

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Empire requires aid of its demon allies! Join the battle, and relish in wreaking havoc upon the elven scum!"

"The Em--"

Fine, fine! I get it, you really want the elves dead! So stop the damn noise already.

I grab Celica, who somehow hadn't noticed this loud beacon of a summoning, and head towards the light. Since I know only little about fighting, she can have her star role this time.

I had of course milked more information out of her, and the knowledge that a 'killed' demon reforms in hell good as new was a factor in my decision. The catch is that it generally takes longer the more powerful the demon. I didn't get a clear answer about the time scale either, so for all I know, it could take centuries. I'd rather not die in any case. By the way, banishment just forces the demon back to hell, there's no reforming period.

This functional immortality, along with supernatural powers and being 'born' fully ready are all traits that your average living being shouldn't have, not even in a fantasy world. I assume that the demons - myself included - are rather some kinds of malevolent spirits than a group of races or species, making us fundamentally different. This would explain these summoning and banishing shenanigans and all the other weird parts.

As the summoning process is finished, we warp inside a summoning circle within a temporary military camp. A woman whom I assume to be an imperial demonologist immediately greets us curtly, seeming slightly disappointed with us. So sorry I'm not a murderous mountain of muscle and mayhem. She seems to assume we are fine with the already proposed deal, but I haggle. There are no free lunches on my expense.

"I want a swordstaff."

"What the...? No, we don't have any."

"I really, really want a swordstaff."

"As I said, there aren't any. And regulations--"

"Make one."

"But--"

"It's a sword on a staff. Even an idiot can do that much."

"I--"

"It's necessary for the war."

The demonologist relents, probably half because of my reasoning and half because of just being plain tired of arguing. A blacksmith makes me a swordstaff - a rare kind of weapon that my new ring supposedly lets me wield with skills of a master. With that I'm ready for war. Celica tags along, exuding tiresome amount of enthusiasm.

Since this side is an empire happy to summon as many demons as it can, and the other one consists of those same racist elves I screwed over earlier (Celica handled the screwing with), I cannot muster any care for which side wins or how many casualties there are. As long as I'm not one of them. The battle will start soon, so we make our way to the rest of the demon horde.

On the chosen field of battle the imperial army is standing a safe distance behind us demons. They plan to soften the enemy formations with wild demon charge and then mop up the remains. It's a simple but effective tactic - assuming the demons won't turn on their allies. The imperials seemed confident that won't happen though. In any case, rest of the demons seem happy to oblige, but I'm not too flattered about being in the suicide squad.

The demons participating are various bunch, but objectively I'm the odd one out - I look least like a demon in the whole horde. There are several very human-like demons present, but with my all-white clothes, swordstaff, and the wings I had completely forgotten to unwind from within my clothes I have no demonic indicators in sight and probably look more like a holy warrioress than a demon.

I decide that I should at least unfurl the wings - I don't want to risk any friendly fire from demons not recognizing me as one of their own after all. As I try to open my wings, they get stuck every which way in the folds of my clothes. Why can't these be the type you can transform on and off? Why'd I even hide them to begin with? There was no need for that here.

While I fight a losing battle with my own appendages, a horn blows a low, ominous note and the demons begin their charge across the field. Oh come on, I wasn't ready yet!

The elves form a phalanx of long spears while archers loose cloud of arrows at the horde. I don't see any obvious magical attacks though. Are they saving that as the trump card, or are these elves of a disappointing magicless variety? Not that I want to be on the receiving end of a magical barrage. I decide to forget about the wings and follow the rest of them. Celica had ran off the moment horn began to blow, so I sprint alone across the field that is now littered by arrows and fallen demons, and enter the melee.

I feel like I'm entering multiplayer for the very first time. The battle formation has already scattered into multitude of smaller fights, and I watch as elves and demons battle with high intensity. I myself am soon confronted by two elven warriors who clearly don't know what I'm about. I didn't manage to open my wings, so I probably look like a human to them - I just hope the wings are at least properly folded and don't make me look like a hunchback... Hey, watch what you are doing with that spear, are you trying to poke my eye out-- oh wait, yes you are.

I counter attack with my swordstaff, swinging it around like a lawnmower's blade. It's all the ring of swordstaffery, I have no idea how I'm doing this. The elf hit by the blade tries to block with shield, but the shield is cut into pieces in a shower of sparks. Now that put fear of god - or rather the other thing - into them! They both gape at the metal shreds in awed terror, and there's a momentary lull in this particular cluster of battle. I know, I'm surprised too.

I take a closer look at my brand new weapon. The blade is actually not your usual sword, it's from a freaking two-hander. I was nonchalantly carrying this around? Demon's supernatural strength is no joke, clearly.

Not yet quite ready to flee, the other elf tries to spear me, and I make a stab at him simultaneously. I really have to give it to the imperial blacksmith who whipped up this awesome weapon - he was either mad or genius. In addition to being heavy, the claymorestaff also has significant reach, thanks to which the elf who lunged at me is currently elf-kabab on my blade. When I turn to deal with the other one with impaled elf still hanging from my weapon, he makes near-instant 180 degree turn and runs away towards a giant demon. So, I'm more scary than that huge thing? Hah.

Right when I'm feeling bad ass after killing one puny elf, a bolt of lightning hits me in the back. That would be the magical trump card then. I'm tasting blood in my mouth and my chest feels numb, but I guess a creature formed of pure evil of mortalkind can take a lightning or two. If hitpoints were a thing, I'd say I'm at 66%. Oh, and my dress has hole burned through it as well. Less hurt and more pissed, I turn to face the magic caster who dared to ruin my 3/4 silver dress.

Oh my. It's the bunny elf, one of the six summoners who tried to gather strategic information by asking me and Celica. I think they had a question about the Empire too, but I knew jack shit about that subject. That probably is in no small part explaining why they are currently getting their asses handed to them so thoroughly.

Seeing my face she clearly recognizes me, indicated by her expression turning into that of mixed panic and shame - she really has all the best reactions.

"You-- How are YOU here!?"

"I was summoned."

I won't give her time pull another spell, and instead close the distance to the elf who just stands there stupidly staring. Through the hole her spell made, I reveal my slightly tattered wings and turn my sprint into near-flight. Another pair of things is revealed from the slipping dress on the front side, but that can't be helped.

However, since she has no visible weapons, and spells seem to require time to cast, I decide to take a chance to test the charm spell Celica showed me instead of merely slicing her up with my blade. Besides, we just had a wonderful time together not a long ago, so it'd be shame to just try to kill each other now.

"What are you-- Gah!"

It's very effective. My very first charmed thrall's eyes go glassy and she takes a tranquil expression. I assume I could give her commands now, but I want to see what happens if I do nothing first. While she stands still in a daze, I take a look around me at the carnage demons left behind.

While I was playing around with her, the fight all around me had died down, with all the elves lying dead or being harried off the battlefield by the ever-eager demons. The elves clearly had been woefully unprepared to fight this many demons, for the whole battle was over in matter of minutes.

Celica finds me soon enough, wearing a catlike smile and covered in blood all over. I'm surprised she shows no signs of wear and tear beyond the blood, since I didn't get any vibes of competence from her before.

"Been a looong~ time since a good fight like this~! So~, how many did you get~?"

My total kill death ratio is incalculable, with one kill and zero deaths. And one caught bunny. I want bonus points for that.

"One. Plus one."

"Eeeeeeh~, you suck~. Big sis~ got seven~!"

I don't want to hear that from you... But demons certainly are force to be reckoned with, if even Celica can kill seven elven soldiers. Or maybe she had free pass since they were reluctant to hit a cute girl? There seems to be relatively less of the big, ugly demons present after the battle, so maybe I'm onto something there.

"Oh~, is that an elf~ you got charmed there?"

Celica fixes her eyes on the bunny elf. I was thinking of making her buy me new and better clothes for starters, but I have no further ideas about what to do with a brainwashed elf. Well, obviously if your mind were in the gutter, there'd be many possibilities. And predictably, in 3, 2, 1...

"Hey~, I've never done it with a light chestnut brunette elf girl~... borrow her, okay~?"

That's rather specific description... Just how many kinds of people have you 'done it with'? Never mind, I don't want to know.

"No."

"Come on~ Ais~!"

"Not happening."

"Ummuuu~! You're such a prude~..."

And you are a shameless slut. That's to be expected of a succubus though, so carry on. A moment later the bunny elf, who has no knowledge she dodged a bullet just now, awakens from her daze. She turns to look at me with a look I can't quite decipher... and suddenly leaps at me. Did she actually pretend to be charmed to surprise attack me? You are wily, I'll give you that--

"Haa... haaa... haaa...! I feel greater than ever before!"

...Eh?

"That cold, disdainful look! Ahh...! Will you punish me goo-ood, mistress demon?"

This is going to confusing and slightly worrying directions. She continues breathing heavily and trying her best to suffocate me while glomping all over me. I try to lever the ecstatic elf off of me, while asking Celica about the one detail I'm most worried about.

"Say Celica, how long does the charm's effect last?"

"Whatcha asking that for~? Forever~ of course!"

I have picked up another troublesome thing.