∼ Still Kicking ∼

Chapter - 012

The room was dimly lit as there were no windows or apertures to make it possible for the setting light of the sun to cast away the dark. But from what the demon could squint with its somewhat decent night sight, it was a small room lined with rows of cages. Cages much bigger than the one the demon itself had been stuffed inside.

It now remembered how it occasionally heard the cries of miserable voices coming from inside this very room during the days of captivity and under the warlock's scrutiny, and as it looked closer, it could make out a bunch of shapes residing within them. Unmoving. But most notable - was the stench of something foul.

The cage closest to the demon all of a sudden rattled. "P-please..." The voice rasped, a feeble hand extending through the bars.

It took a few moments, but the impling finally did recognize the dirty and sickly-looking man to be one of the five humans it had stumbled into. It was that man who had been shot by the warlock's bolt and survived.

The realization brought an unexpected sense of relief for the demon as this was the first familiar thing it remembered before being subjected to the warlock's whims. But this relief was soon consumed by rage when it dawned that this human was responsible for everything.

It wanted to slaughter him for his impudence, so the impling called upon the same power that it had used to so effortlessly vanquish the warlock. But as it did so, its legs wobbled and it almost fell head over heels. Head swimming and a headache rampaging around in its skull, a sense of nausea and pain intermixed overwhelmed the small creature. It clutched its head in agony. The demon wanted answers to what in its red own name was happening, and as if in response to its internal question, a prompt sprung into its mind's eye to explain a moment later.

[Base Mana Cost for Demon Bolt - Insufficient]

You have taken 1 point of damage.

Even through the pain, the demon knew something was off about the prompt, or rather, not off about it, but due to the fact that it finally understood an inkling of what exactly the prompt in its head was attempting to convey.

The impling actually grasped the meaning of everything much more clearly now since its drastic level up, and now with its much-increased intelligence, it was able to notice the significant change in comprehension.

It was getting smarter and smarter, and soon, none would ever be as smart as its red self - among all imps and demons alike.

The pain of the headache brought the demon out of its brief reverie as it refocused on the pathetic man before it. A snarl escaped the small demon and the human flinched in response. "Please, I-" He pleaded but didn't manage much as a feeble cough interrupted himself.

As he fixed his weary eyes back onto the demon, they lit up faintly, as if he had just gotten an idea. Setting to do something, he padded the worn and dirty vest on his person, pulling out a piece of cloth as he found what he was looking for.

Just as the demon was about to leave, as without his magic he probably wouldn't be able to hurt the human through the bars, the aroma of something truly divine, unlike anything the impling had ever smelled before, hit its nostrils. Eyes going wide, it stared at the pieces that had been wrapped within the cloth.

Strips of what appeared to be dried meat laid in rows, but unlike the meat that the impling was used to, this gave off a salivate-inducing smell to the demon.

As Oren held out the smoked and seasoned jerky for the demon, it became apparent that he had been successful in keeping the impling from leaving him to rot in this rusted cell.

But his enticement had apparently been much more effective than expected, as the impling practically lept for the morsel he had been rationing that last couple of days.

Just before the demon got its grubby little hands on the jerky, Oren retracted his hand and watched as the dumb demon bumped its head against the bars. It let out a string of inane babbling and screeching at seemingly both the bars and him - which funnily enough came off as swearing to Oren despite him not being able to understand the strange creature in the slightest.

He did take a moment to briefly gloat at the imp's stupidity after all the misfortune it had brought him. His friends were dead, his lover was dead, and now, his very own home might be where he draws his last breath. The lord baron himself would put an end to him to simply hide what had transpired here.

A twinge of pain from the festering wound in his chest caused Oren to wince but allowed him to refocus on the situation. The demon seemed to have calmed down and was now just hungrily staring at the morsels of food in his hand.

Oren crawled a bit closer, craning his neck to look out from under the cage's metal ceiling to where a ring of keys hung on the wall of the far side of the room, just by the entrance.

"G-get me those, and I'll give you the damn meat," He said, pointing to them, a bit of fire returning to his weak voice.

Although the imp definitely wouldn't understand his words, the implication was quite obvious, and despite its dense tendencies, the demon wasn't an entirely unintelligent creature.

A moment passed by as the impling looked back and forth from Oren and the keys. But as a skeptical expression crossed the demon's face. Oren realized its hesitance to let him go. Worry that the damned demon might leave him here to rot squeezed his heart, and he took a piece of the jerky, dangling in front of the demon enticingly.

And just as the demon once again lunged for the morsel, he once again was faster and pulled it back, stuffing the strip of meat in his own mouth. Pure outrage came from the small demonic being as it spewed what was undoubtedly the most obscene of obscenities at him.

The demon quickly calmed down once more, and after a few moments of what appeared to be pondering, it did finally comply as it scaled the nearest table, tip-toeing while trying to pull down the keys from its hook.

It almost stumbled a few times which would've probably sent it keeling right off the table, but it managed to get the keys without any bodily harm. If only barely so. Just how had this demon survived this long? Oren couldn't fathom.

It took a bit more convincing and threatening of eating the rest of the salted jerky to get the impling to hand over the keys, but when it finally did, Oren breathed a sigh of relief. But that relief soon turned into a deep sadness.

For some reason, over the days of his captivity and pain, his mind had been coping with the hope that if he'd manage to escape this horrid cage, everything would return to normal. He'd be safe, he'd have regained his freedom, and he'd be able to continue his life as an adventurer with his party.

But there was no longer anyone left, but him. A dying cripple that could barely pull himself out of this fucking cage. He wanted to scream and weep all over again - just as he had spent the first few days. But he was exhausted. Maybe he should just end it all now?

The sound of shifting, not from the demon as it gorged itself on a particularly tough piece of jerky, but rather from the neighboring cage dashed Oren's despair. There was still her.

The only person still alive and not rotting amongst the dozens of other cages in here. He pulled himself to his feet.

He might be ready to die, and he might already be well on his way to offering up his soul to the old ones. But he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to save someone's life at the expense of his own.

The impling, entirely unaware of the human's internal turmoil and fervor, greedily feasting itself on what might just be that most delicious thing it had ever eaten. It was heaven. The meat tasted unlike anything the demon had ever eaten before.

First, when the impling had come to this world, escaping the ruthless planes of the netherworld, it had thought the small creatures scurrying about the forest was the pinnacle of food as their bloody and juicy meat was so fresh and delectable.

Before the demon realized it, he had eaten the morsel and was now licking his fingers hungrily. Its eyes turned for more, wondering if it should try and steal a couple of pieces from the human. But as it did so, it finally saw the human just as he was opening a cage right beside the one he had just crawled out of.

Curiosity struck the demon as it wondered why the stupid human would want to go back into a new cage. Then again, all humans were stupid so it couldn't fault them too much.

However, it was first then, as the cage hatch swung open, that the demon realized there was another living person. It had just thought everything in the cages was dead as it smelled about as much. The shape, hidden underneath what appeared to be a dirty and ragged robe that covered most of the body, except for their grimy feet and dirt-stained hands, was huddled up into the farthest corner as the hatch swung open.

"Come out, it-it's alright," Oren tried, offering his hand. But as he did so, his waning body failed him, and he crumbled to the ground on two shaky arms.

As if in sudden worry that he might've gotten hurt, the robed person reached out worriedly but stopped themself right before touching him and recoiled back into the corner.

"It's ah- it's okay, I won't hurt you," Oren attempted again, ignoring the burning agony of his upset wound as he got to his knees and reached out to offer his hand once again. This time, it was successful, and with some trepidation, a small and filthy hand took his.

Even with how dirty and mishandled this person obviously was, he was surprised that the small hand was incredibly soft and smooth - like that of a woman. Not one that had toiled in the fields nor one that had worked all their life as a housewife. But one that he imagined being born a noblewoman or some child of a rich caravan merchant.

It was truly unlike any that Oren himself had touched or seen before.

But even so, this was no time for him to dawdle on idle matters. He had no idea when someone of the baron's many goons would come and check up on the warlock, and if Oren was caught here, he'd undoubtedly be killed off without a second thought. He didn't even trust trying to go into the town and explain to everyone what had happened to him - as even if someone did believe him, the vile old man who was the lord of this town wouldn't let something as public discord or reputation stop him disposing of Oren.

Oren helped the woman - or at least, he guessed it was a she, out of the cage the best he could with his wobbly limbs. As she passed him, their gazes briefly met, and despite the dark and gloom of this room, Oren was able to make out a pair of light red, almost orange, eyes. "A Cassian?" Oren mused internally.

The girl walked out of the cage. It was only with a bit of hesitation that she helped Oren get to his feet as she was apparently in better shape than a dying man like himself. But he didn't fault her for the still small amount of trepidation and distrust she showed towards him as he could only guess as to how long she had been imprisoned here - to every whim of that wicked warlock - what she must've endured at his hands.

"We need to get out of here, urgh-" Oren said, coughing and wincing as his wound flared.

"Y-yes..." The girl said, her first words spoken feeble and frail. She stepped in under Oren's shoulder, hoisting up the large man with her small frame as best she could, though it was not much. They stumbled at bit first, but got going towards the exit, which proved to be without any major hiccups.

"Um- w-what about this one?" She asked, taking one hand to point at the impling that stared curiously up at her. "He is not my- he is new..." She cut herself off, changing what she was about to say. But Oren didn't really catch it in his hazy state of mind.

"Umph - forget about him, he's -ah, what caused me all of this shit," Oren grunted, scowling at the impling who scowled right back at him.

The robed girl lingered a bit longer, staring at the impling. But as Oren's words registered she gave a slightly absentminded nod and they walked past the demon, leaving it to its devices.

Turning the corner, both Oren and the girl kept their eyes on the ground, making sure they didn't trip and fall. So when they managed to scuttle into the main laboratory, they froze. There laid the form of the robed warlock, his head still the same scorched and blackened skull that the impling had left him as.

Oren displayed mild shock at the scene, but from the sounds he had heard before, he didn't expect the warlock to be still alive. However, the girl was distinctly more troubled by what she saw. She was trembling, and though Oren couldn't catch a glimpse of her face due to the tattered hood covering it, he knew it wasn't just the shock of seeing a corpse that caused her to react as such.

A few moments went by as she just stood there, staring at the dead man. But just as Oren was about to say something, she began moving again. She said nothing as she helped Oren towards the nearest tool-ridden table, which he didn't need to be told to support himself on it.

There were a couple of hesitant steps as she walked towards the skullified-man, and as she stood over his prone form, she paused. Oren wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear a few muffled sniffles through his muddled thoughts.

He truly couldn't imagine what this man had done to her, and neither could he imagine what seeing the dead corpse of her tormentor would make her feel - so like his mother had taught him long ago, he just kept his mouth shut as he had nothing good to say.

This only lasted a bit as she seemed to reaffirm her determination, crouching down and beginning to ruffle through the man's robes. Pulling out what appeared to be a pendant - Oren wasn't sure from this distance as his sight had already gotten quite hazy, the girl walked over to the other side of the room.

There, she fiddled with the large safe, the sound of clicking and clanging filling the room as she seemingly used the pendant she had just pilfered from the warlock's corpse to open it. From the safe when she successfully managed to get it open with a loud creak of its metal hinges, she pulled out a rucksack which she stuffed with things that Oren couldn't make out. He was pretty sure he saw a large book, though he had no idea what use she would have for that.

She walked with a purpose like she knew exactly where to go and what to look after. Oren didn't pose any questions though. He was in too much pain to entertain any, and it was also not the time to ask. It took a few more moments as she scurried around the laboratory, taking various things and putting them in the sack before she returned to Oren.

She gave a glance at Oren's pitiful shape, both hands and arms clenched around the table like it was his lifeline. "I-I can mend you," She said, her voice a bit more broken and melancholy from just moments before. "But it-it will take some time,"

Oren grunted. "It's -ah... fine, I'll last a little longer. I'm just woozy from getting up," He said, trying for a smile. "We have to get moving before anyone gets here. I-" He coughed. "know a way out of town that's safe, "

She seemed to hesitate but ultimately nodded. But just as she was about to offer Oren her shoulder again, she caught sight of a small red figure trying its best to stealthily sneak up on the slumping Oren.