[Phenex Estates]
[The Dungeon]
[Riser Phenex]
The Dungeon was comprised of three individual layers- an outer ring 200 meters around, a middle ring 100 meters around, and a final interior ring that is 50 meters around. There was one long hallway that connected all three rings, and that allowed for fairly quick traversal between the six jail cells on each ring. It was a whole lot of empty space for six tiny cells no bigger than a shoebox, but I suppose it made sense given that the very Devil himself wasn't one for giving those he wanted imprisoned in a hellhole a little bit of comfort.
Yes, there were only six cells per ring, and obviously, the 6-6-6 didn't escape me.
Ha ha.
What a great joke, Lucifer!
However, what wasn't a joke was the Dungeon itself.
The moment the doors closed behind us I could immediately tell that this prison was alive. In a way that I had no idea an inanimate object could be. Whatever enchantments empowered this place must have been incredibly costly, time-consuming, and mind-bogglingly complex because I couldn't even begin to fathom what sort of demonic activity was required to make your very soul feel it. Feel that the place you had just entered despised you with every fiber of its being.
That it wanted to sap you of your vitality.
Squash your internal organs and drink your vital fluids.
Crush your bones and grind them into fine powder.
And then latch onto your soul and suck every last bit of what made you a living being into its greedy, indomitable gullet.
I'd felt afraid before.
I'd felt unease when I saw my brothers unleash some of their true potential as they clashed in the training fields far behind the main estate.
I'd felt my lungs freeze and my heart skip a beat when my father flared his power but kept his voice as low as a whisper.
However, never in my life had I ever truly experienced genuine fear.
Or if I had it had never felt like this before.
My entire body broke out into a cold sweat, my eyes grew so wide that I was afraid that they would have popped out of my head, and I felt my spine straighten up so much that it probably would have snapped if it weren't for my Phenex regeneration resetting the bones as my demonic power surged throughout my body- pleading with me to turn around and run away. To run far away and never return.
Feeling my own body breaking down as my fight-or-flight instincts warred with one another was an agony that I didn't think I was prepared for. I'd been hurt before, but never like this. And yet I couldn't make a sound because I couldn't breathe. My lungs were frozen in place, as though icicles had pierced my chest and pushed messily through to the other side; like a wicked snow hag- crooning a song of delight- had pushed her talons deep within me to freeze me from the inside out.
Even if I had to pee I don't think I could have unlocked my body enough to void my bowels.
Yet despite the utter terror that plagued me I still felt the warm, reassuring hand from my father's Queen gently holding onto my own, and that was enough.
It was enough for me to push my Phenex regeneration to its very limits. My power shone brightly, emanating from my very core like a molten orb of blessed gold salvation. It was pitifully dull compared to my brothers' radiant suns, but I knew that their level was wholly achievable, and given my Devil physiology I knew that it could be done much more quickly than anyone could have ever thought possible. That was why I was here, wasn't it? To grow stronger as quickly as I could?
I circulated it throughout my body just as my father had taught me, carefully regulated the flow as Ruval showed me, and kept the density even and consistent as Regen had shown me. Three members of the Phenex clan had taken time out of their days to teach me more and more about my heritage, with each one putting their own spin on the same foundational teachings. They elaborated on uses and techniques that the old family texts never expounded upon or hid, and they never ceased to have some small but beautiful shift in perspective that always got my noodle thinking about just what else I could do.
About just how far I could go if I buckled down and applied myself.
I took my first breath in what seemed like ages as the malefic magics that had pervaded me were either spun out of my body or were burned away, and for a few brief moments, I felt true relief. The fear had been conquered, and I allowed myself a few seconds to smile in triumph as I reveled in the flickering warmth of my power swaddling me with a soft confidence.
As long as I had my power then I could be free from fear.
This joyous moment of introspection and clarity only lasted a handful of seconds because with vision of my form now unclouded by curses of vitriol and loathing... I could see it. A tether attached to my body. Though 'seeing' it was a bit of a misnomer because I was actually feeling it, with the supernatural awarenesses afforded to me; it was a small trickle, a piddly amount, but I could feel it being forcibly taken from me.
Stripped away from my very form like a tithe from a peasant to a Lord, and yet considering the vast gulf between myself and the entity that was this Dungeon I felt that it was an apt description.
If I was a five-gallon bucket then even a small leak could empty me out if given enough time.
I licked my lips as I released Clarissa's hand, and I took a step forward. Then another step. And another. And another.
It took less than a minute to reach the first four-way intersection, and I turned right, ever so slowly stepping out my steps until I was moving at a comfortable walking pace.
"We will be staying in the first ring, Young Master," Clarissa said calmly from behind me, the maid dutifully two steps behind and to my right, "Unless you truly wish to be the youngest Phenex in history to truly complete the final trial."
Sweat beaded on my brow as I just kept focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, "Wait, I thought that this was the trial?"
The woman made a small sound in her throat that could have been a frog croaking, "No. The true test of this is to head down the main hall, and visit the Warden of this prison."
A sinuous chuckle, husky and filled with an unfathomable amount of bloodlust, tickled the back of my mind when she said 'Warden', and I had to stop walking so that I could focus on purging the memetic effects wafting throughout the atmosphere from my body once more. I'd kept it as tightly controlled as I could, but even still the effort made me pause to take a deep breath before I resumed my walk, "I... don't think visiting the Warden at this juncture would be conducive to living a long and healthy life."
"That is... positively refreshing to hear, dear Nephew," Clarissa's voice sounded relieved, "You'd be... unsurprised to know how many young High-Class devils feel that their inborn strength over their lessers makes them feel undefeatable."
"Well, Auntie 'Rissa, momma didn't raise no fool, and neither did my father," I quipped back perhaps with a touch too much smarm, and my concentration slipped- and I knew it did because I started to smell a veritable ocean of blood.
I knew it was an illusion. A hallucination. A figment of my imagination brought forth by a magical manipulation of my mind and quite possibly my very soul. Yet, it felt so real. It looked so real. It sounded so real.
Crimson liquid, thick and vibrant, oozed out of the stone floor beneath me, and my shoes- which I probably should have changed into something more reasonable for training- squished and squashed with every step I took further down the looping hallway.
I felt fine, but the truth was that I only thought I felt fine. I only thought that what my mind was seeing was normal and that the blood pooling around my knees was par for the course in this hellhole of a dungeon. Though there was this small voice in my mind that was screeching out in warning, and I wanted to heed it, I truly did but the blood was tantalizing to my senses; was this the true desire for bloodshed built into a devil's form from the beginning?
I continued to walk, allowing myself to bask in the silence as the conversation between myself in Clarissa petered out.
In all honesty even with the viscosity of this fluid, I should have been swimming by now, but even with the blood rising up to my neck, my walk was only slowed by the tinest amounts.
It was only when the blood reached my mouth, the putrid liquid coating my tongue, that I realized something was wrong (despite knowing full well that everything about this situation was wrong), and I clenched my fists as I poured more power into my cleansing efforts until the blood disappeared from the hall, my clothes, and my flesh... yet the taste remained embittered on my tongue.
God- ow!- it felt like I was having to learn how to walk and chew bubble gum all over again.
I stopped to give myself some time to think.
How had I been infected again? The obvious choice was the tether that connected me to the dungeon itself, but that seemed like it was a bit too on the nose; the connection from what I could feel was solely one way. It was meant to drain me of my strength and magical energy and feed it elsewhere- likely to the enchantments that powered this place; it certainly felt like something Lucifer would do. Use the imprisoned devil's own power against them to steadily corrupt and mind-fuck whoever was unlucky enough to be on the shit list. However, it still didn't feel right.
When I'd first shrugged off the curses causing the fear there was a subtleness in the way it settled into my body, even if the effects themselves were entirely not subtle at all. So I performed the cleansing method that my father instructed me on for moderately powerful mental spells and curses; this wasn't nearly as easy for non-Phenex devils to do, but our magic was inherently linked to the concept of renewal, or the return to a previous state. We didn't so much heal wounds as we simply denied the wounds ever existed at all; it was why having such a high focus on one's mental image was so important to a Phenex- it went beyond being able to gradually shapeshift to a previously desired state.
By circulating my magical power and enshrouding myself in it I was not only refreshing my mind to a previously unaltered- unsuborned- state, but I was also creating a barrier that should have prevented further curses or illusions from latching onto my body. However, given that I'd stepped up my personal barrier in not only in strength, but rotation, velocity, and density and was still affected by the blood illusion... there was something else afoot.
Something subtle and insidious.
Granted, it could have just been a more powerful curse or illusion, one that overpowered my barrier just enough to latch onto me without giving me a clear indication that I'd been ensnared.
This required testing, because if I had to keep actively breaking every single illusion while contending with the constant drain on my mana from the inherent connection between myself and the Dungeon then I'd be returning home in just under... half an hour? Maybe little more or less? I couldn't be sure because it wasn't exactly as though I'd brought a watch with me.
I looked over my shoulder at Clarissa, who seemed to be completely unaffected, "Do you know how long we've been here?"
"Three minutes and seventeen seconds, Riser," Her voice was clear and factual, and I knew that there wasn't any form of judgment lacing it.
Still. Shit. Three minutes?
I returned my attention back to the hall and saw a bloodshot eye poke out of the ceiling to glare at me ominously, a haunting shriek caressing my ears.
Damnit!
I purged, and this time I focused solely on my body and the magic that circulated through it. It was distinct- a multistrand of putrid licorice that had a variety of flavors twirled around it in a simple braid.
With an idea of what to look for, I kept my eyes peeled and poured every last drop of attention I had into maintaining my barrier but also feeling for the moment something latched onto me; if I saw the illusion or felt the effects of the curse before I noticed it in my body then it was already too late and I'd have to purge and try again.
Chains scraped as a skeletal figure stepped into my sight, its overly long arms- reminiscent of the bony hands that had emerged from the fetid stream- dragging behind it; the cuffs and chains wrapped around its wrists sparked and skittered with every step it took-
Fuck.
I purged.
The wall next to me came to life as a thump came from within. It startled me, truthfully, nearly causing me to jump. The thump came again, and this time it was followed by muffled shouts. Someone was trapped inside of the stone, behind a false wall. They begged and pleaded to be set free. To be released from their living nightmare.
Fuck.
I purged.
A howling shriek thundered in my ears, and in spite of myself I turned my head to see a Nightmare- a four-legged equine beast of pure muscle and fury- streaking down the hallway toward me and Clarissa; its baleful eyes blazed with purple fire as its fiery mane billowed in the wind of its own passing-
Fuck.
I purged.
'Bzzzzttttt. Bzzzznnnnnttt. Bzznt. Bzzzznnnnttt... bzzzzzzzzzzzzzznnnnt.'
I tried my best to focus, to pay attention, and yet this damn fly just wouldn't leave me alone! It buzzed on and off, as though it was trying to throw off my concentration just enough to let the Dungeon get a hold on me once more. I'd fought against the urge to simply flare my power and crisp it with the fires of my family, but doing so with Clarissa so close to me would be in horribly poor form; sure, she would be fine, as she was far stronger than I was but it was the principal of the thing.
If it would just fly a little bit closer to me instead of darting around the corner of my vision then I could reach out and squash it for good-
A thought came to me and I palmed my face.
Fuck.
I purged.
I was at less than half a tank when I finally figured out the trick that the Dungeon was using to get a hold on me with its curses and illusions.
Correction: tricks. As in plural.
There were over a dozen different methods that I counted before I started to recognize the patterns, but the most commonly used ones were two. The most prominent methods the illusory curse simply surrounded me and then let the... gravity of my barrier's rotation drag it in; the spell seemed to elongate and stretch much like a string caught in the spokes of a wheel. The second method was that the curse swirled around me in a way that matched the churning of my energies perfectly before sinking in. The others were variations on the first and second, but those seemed to have a different flavor to them that corresponded with what the illusion was trying to show me- a theme.
Spoopy hallucinations had a different attachment method, and the gory illusions attacked me in a different way than the spoopy ones did. The Creeping Horror curses- the ones that caused all sorts of Outer God shenanigans to spawn within my sight- also had their own unique delivery method. The same with the more detailed and animate illusions such as the skeletons and the Nightmare.
I grinned victoriously as I settled onto a method that was sure to see me through to my goal: Walking one complete lap around the outer ring before my magical reserves failed me.
My pace was slow, agonizingly slow, but it was necessary as the majority of my attention was paid to carefully modulating my barrier and my senses.
The longer I spent in here the more I got familiar with the curses trying to slither into my very being to distort my perception of reality.
I had to actively sense the incoming curse and then change the particulars of my barrier to counter that specific delivery method.
Each step was a battle as I boosted the power of my protections, shredding the current curse, before I reigned the power expenditure back in and suddenly spiked the rotation speed as the 'Matching' type curse was deflected when its speed no longer matched my own. Then I slammed on the brakes and compressed my barrier into the densest shield I could muster as a 'piercing' type delivery met my magical aura head-on, bent, and then went spinning off down the corridor like the poisoned needle that it was.
Regardless of my progress, however, the Dungeon was all too happy to remind me that even if I'd figured out some of its tricks it had more in store for me.
I felt something impact me from behind, like a slap to the back of the head, and I turned my eyes to Clarissa only to see her corpse standing eerily still behind me. Her jaw was missing, her eyes torn from their sockets, her belly was cleft open and her entrails strewn all over the stone floor-
Damnit!
I purged.
"Haaaa~. Haaaa~. Haaaa~."
A wet thwack filled the air as my sweaty, shaking palm met the stone corner of the intersection, and I used my grip to drag me forward. My fingers ached, my biceps screamed, and more core was completely shot. I couldn't even use my family's regeneration powers because I quite literally was running on fumes.
Fumes that the Dungeon was oh so happy to inhale from the depths of my soul.
Not that I would use my blood trait in this training environment because, well, renewal quite literally counteracted the development of the body, and anything I could have gained would be blown up in a puff of smoke. It didn't inhibit normal growth but believing that I could work myself to physical exhaustion and then use my healing flames to boost myself to unparalleled heights was something my father and brothers disabused me of; if such a thing was possible then there was no way in Hell that the Phenex family wouldn't be filled with meatheads.
Still, I persisted, and by the Grace of God- OW!- I'd made it!
I barely had the strength left to roll myself onto my back, and I stared at Clarissa as she in turn stared down at me.
"Am I back at the start?" I asked breathlessly, and she nodded.
"Yes, little Phenex. You have arrived back at the main corridor." Her hands were bunching up her skirts but after answering they immediately relaxed, "I take it that you've accomplished your goal?"
"Yeah. One lap. Haaa. I made it."
"So you did."
"Can you pick me up and take me home?"
"Most certainly."
The woman knelt down and grabbed ahold of me by my underarms and effortlessly hefted me up, and while she didn't bring me back home in a princess carry- for which I was thankful- she did wrap my arms around her neck and hold me to her by the backs of my thighs.
Even as dog-tired as I was I was keenly aware of just how pillowy and squishy her breasts were while they were pressed against my chest. Yet somehow I still couldn't find it in myself to care, and instead, I allowed myself to bury my face in her neck as she smoothly carried me out of the Dungeon; the sounds of her heels clicking away with every step.
The moment the large oak doors swung shut behind us I felt the connection that was sapping my strength snap like a string under tension that had been severed, and the continuous drain on my stamina stopped immediately.
I tried to breathe, to use the exercises Ruval taught me to hasten my recovery, but I was simply too tired and fuzzy to concentrate properly.
The mana in the air that I tried to draw into my body wasn't very tasty anyway.
When I woke up it was to see the black cloth that covered my four-poster bed, and given that the enchanted surface wasn't twinkling softly like the stars in the sky I knew that it was well past morning. I yawned and wiped the grime from my eyes before reaching out to grasp the golden tassel near my head, and with a gentle pull the line drew taut- the curtains pulling back toward the head of the bed to let in warm mid-afternoon light.
I know, I know, it wasn't technically daylight given that the Devil side of the Underworld was tidally locked, and thus our side was perpetually dark, but the moon rotated daily and reflected the light from the 'sun' that this strange world orbited around, so it was close enough. Given a devil's exceptional night vision, it might as well have been day- given my previous life's memories I couldn't really tell a difference between the two; I even had full-color vision for crying out loud.
But that is the power of the Four Satans- Falbium Asmodeus, Ajuka Beelzebub, Serafall Leviathan, and Sirzechs Lucifer... just casually creating a moon and adjusting space-time to make the reincarnated devils feel more at home with a normal 'day' and 'night' cycle.
Utterly terrifying, and yet there was some part of me that couldn't help but feel excited about the prospect of achieving those same great heights.
I was a touch surprised to see my father seated at my full-sized desk, one that I'd been rather adamant about having since I 'liked having all of the extra space'; he was shuffling through what appeared to be reams of paper and with an elaborately decorated pen of gold and silver clenched between his teeth. He finished fiddling with the stack, the pen leaving his mouth so that he could sign the top page, and once it was in a neat pile he placed the pen back into its stand and turned his shoulders toward me.
"You are awake," His deep voice was... unimaginably soft, his golden eyes looking me over so keenly that I felt as if I was under a microscope, "I trust that you've found what you were looking for deep in that dank, miserable place?"
I shuffled myself up and placed my back against the headboard before pulling on the tassel a little bit more firmly so that the drapes wouldn't obscure my father from my sight. Thinking back to my experiences in the Dungeon I let myself mull over my response before I settled on the words, "It was certainly informative. Humbling. However, the experience was invaluable. Terrifying, but nonetheless an objective lesson of just what most powerful of Demons could accomplish if they put their minds to it."
He snorted, and I couldn't help but raise a blonde brown as he leaned back in the high-backed chair and used his hand to shield the smile on his face, "Humbling. Informative. Invaluable. I will have to give Miss Spellbrook a raise if she was responsible for such vocabulary."
"She is an excellent teacher," I nodded in response.
Catalina Spellbrook was one of the many tutors that the Phenex family had on hand, though most of her time- just like her fellows- was spent educating the young devils that were either employed by the family or tutoring the children of the peerages. The tutors also sat on the Board of Education that oversaw the twelve public schools in the Phenex lands; these institutes served to provide a baseline of education for the Low-Class devils, but were also the first line in scouting out hidden talent among the devils so that they could be tracked and then recruited. If they didn't wish to remain in the Phenex lands forever then they would be traded to the Gremory or Sitiri, or they were given a suitable debt commensurate to the cost of their education and allowed to go out on their own.
Of the Low-Class devils that left most went to Lilith, as it was the capital of the Underworld, to seek work or a chance to rise above their stations, but after they left the Phenex borders they were no longer our concern.
His eyes narrowed slightly, "Speaking of your tutors, you've been asleep two days, my boy. Missed quite a few lessons..."
I winced slightly at that given I had a perfect track record thus far, but having my streak broken by something that was nominally outside of my control eased the sting. Sure, I went into the Dungeon, but how was I to know that magical exhaustion would lead to me being asleep for two days?
"Well then, I suppose I will see to it that I double up on my lessons until I've caught up," I extended the olive branch, though given that I had six hours of solid schooling a day doubling it to twelve hours for the next two days didn't sound like any fun, "Though I do hope that falling asleep for that long after going down into the Dungeon is something that I'll grow out of..."
"Magical exhaustion is something that does improve over time. The more you experience the hardship the more your Devil lineage will rage against the weakness and your recovery intervals will shorten," He stroked his beard as his eyes looked over my bed, "I... will have the artificers come and enchant your bed in the afternoon; it will act as a locus for the ambient mana in the vicinity and draw it in to rejuvenate you. That should help speed up your recovery periods as well. Though do be aware that the stronger you grow the less the enchantment will be able to help; the ambient mana also powers the wards surrounding our estates, so there will be limits as to what you can draw."
Ah, damn, you're going to ration my power budget, old man?
I felt a small laugh escape my lips as I shook my head, "No, no, that sounds more than fair and reasonable, Father. I am grateful."
"It gladdens my heart to hear that, my boy, but save your gratitude for your tutors; if you intended to venture into the Dungeon to train frequently then they will be the ones who have to adjust their busy schedules," He tilted his head to the side so that he could rest his cheek against the palm of his hand, the man's golden eyes seeming to dance with mischief as he observed me, "In fact, I do believe I will have to deduct their additional pay directly from your allowance."
My pocket money!?
Now, I was a rich kid from a rich family, and honestly what I considered 'pocket money' was more than most devils made in a year, but I had no idea just how much this was going to eat into my finances. I winced visibly and he seemed to derive some fatherly pleasure from my discomfort.
"G-give me the particulars and I'll write up a finance report," I scrubbed a finger against my lips, "I'll need to balance the books, see how much I have saved up in the family vaults. I also need to know exactly how much these scheduling adjustments are going to cost me. I doubt that I'd have the funds to sustain such spending for long if the enchantments to the bed don't make an immediate difference in my recovery times."
With his scant few moments of mirth enjoyed the man stood up and ran his hands over his suit, "I will be covering half of their costs, but you do understand why I'm doing this?"
"Actions have consequences," Was the first thing that came to mind, and he seemed content to let me gather my thoughts; after a few moments of consideration I felt more comfortable to elaborate, "I am the one that wishes to alter how I've been training, but even if the training itself nominally only affects me directly, my decisions have knock-on effects that affect a great deal of other people. It affects my tutors, who have to teach me in longer sessions which pulls them away from their more official duties, other students, or their leisure time. This could extend to disrupting the carefully laid out workflows of others in their orbit, be they support staff or other students. It's a domino effect, with one single change cascading into affecting many others."
I looked away from my father and down to my lightly curled fists, "A more tangible lesson to show that even if I am the son of a Pillar Lord my decisions can end up affecting those far outside of my direct sphere of influence. Having this lesson linked to my personal accounts, which are paltry in comparison to the family's resources, further reinforces the need for responsibility and accountability. Or at the very least force me to acknowledge that utilizing the Dungeon at every opportunity would be costly for me, and thus encourage me to seek it out as a training aid in moderation."
Marcus Phenex, the Lord of House Phenex, Marquis of Hell, gave me a proud smile as he tucked the stack of paperwork up under his arm, "Well done. I will have the required figures on your desk here by this evening, so once you have your financial report completed come to me on the 'Morrow and we'll sit down and create a realistic spending plan. Now, I do believe it is almost time for lunch, so you should get washed up and come down to the dining hall."
The door slid shut behind him and I let out a heaving sigh before throwing myself face-first into the comforter.
"Lirianne," I spoke out, my voice muffled by the sinfully comfortable bedspread.
"Yes, Young Master?" She seemingly appeared to my magical senses, the young woman standing off to the side of my bed with a calm aura.
I inhaled deeply as I forced myself to roll over and look at her, "I am going to follow my father's requests and get cleaned up for lunch. I need you to run down to the vaults and request an official balance statement from Mister Vultman, complete with deposits and withdrawals, and then swing by the library to copy-"
My hand came up and with a small flex a basic telekinesis spell circle formed, and on one of the bookshelves lining the wall of my room a leather binder was enshrouded in soft blue light; it floated gently over to my maid where she grabbed it.
"-That binder's contents."
She looked at the binder curiously before tucking it underneath her arm, "And this is what, My Young Master?"
"That binder contains some business ideas that I thought might be both fun and profitable for me to get involved with in the coming years," I slipped off of the bed and scratched at the side of my head as I strode to my attached bathroom, "I had hoped to save up enough money to bankroll those myself but it appears as though a roadblock has been placed in front of me. I'll need to start these up sooner rather than later it seems."
The maid curtsied, "Then I shall see to it, Young Master."
I paused at the doorframe and looked at her, "You do know that you can just call me by my name when it's just the two of us, right, Lirianne?"
Her blue eyes crinkled in that fashion that all maids seemed to do and she instead swept out of the room with alacrity, her skirts swishing as she strode away.
"Man, can't even give me that, huh?"
The professionalism of our maids is both scary and saddening in equal measure.
Lunch and Dinner passed without much of a fuss, though I did notice that Ruval and Regen looked at me more intensely than before. However, despite their curiosity, neither of my brothers saw fit to ask me about my experiences in the Dungeon.
The time in between was spent making up the homework that my tutors assigned me, and considering the lessons stemmed not just from the mundane world- such as the arts, maths, and sciences- but also lessons in devil history, strategy and military tactics, etiquette, politics, and magic theory... I would have burnt out my brain if it weren't for auto-hypnosis. Hypnotizing myself to better retain the sheer quantity of information that was required for me to be considered a 'respectable High-Class Devil' was far more than any child should contend with.
That I was only a mere three years ahead of my nominal peers in material, despite my intellect and maturity, spoke volumes about the capabilities of devils as sponges to absorb information. I was using every trick in the book to try and get everything done properly the first time, and that was mainly so that I could progress onto more challenging material. Particularly the lessons on Magic Theory were gated on my performance in my other subjects and were primarily used as incentives for me to do well in my studies.
Not that you needed to prod me to study just so that I could learn magic.
Freaking magic! God- ow!- that shit is just so cool.
The magical foundations work was handled by two of the family's Bishops who rotated their duties based on their schedules, while the theoretical and practical exercises for the family magic were handled by my Father or my brothers.
Regardless, there was no block for Magic lessons this week, so I had to settle for delving into the other studies instead.
In the middle of the family library stood a very large, very fancy sand table. It was ten meters wide and ten meters long, the platform seated on a dais that was fashioned from black marble with white streaks running through it. Utilizing a little bit of devil magic one could imagine the aerial view of a terrain and the sand table would adjust itself to perfectly mimic the dimensions of the battlefield, complete with equally sized grid squares.
Currently on the table were the swampy lands of Ataraxis, the homeland of the Gusion family- one of the Demon Pillars that had survived the Great War but was purged during the Civil War after throwing their lot in with the Old Satan faction. Running through this particular battle from memory was one of my assignments from my Father and Lieutenant General Gerald Hoffman for my Strategy and Tactics lessons.
General Hoffman had been a German officer who was one of the architects of Hitler's famous blitzkrieg. While he was only a pawn in my father's peerage, with no particular specialty outside of his Mid-Class status and strength, his keen intellect and insight into logistics was the primary reason my father recruited him. Rather than facing an Allied Firing Squad he instead managed the supply chains of the numerous businesses the family had running worldwide, and he was likewise the teacher for not just myself but Regen as well.
"Despite having forty legions of Hell under his command," I narrated to the magical orb floating above me; it would record this session and split off a copy to my father and the General, "The Pillar Lord of the Guison family had his forces heavily diminished in the opening years of the Civil War. The assaults his forces led on the cities of Regis, Choban, Extris, and Formis with the lord devoting ten legions each; despite the superior skill and equipment his legions were known for, this equal distribution of his forces did not match the anticipated threat levels of those cities. Despite having intelligence to the disposition of enemy forces in those areas via the Skinwalkers and Changling Homunculi the Naberious family supplied to the Old Satan faction, he did not adjust his force concentrations to match."
I waved my hand as I thought about the intricately annotated picture from my textbook before pumping some magic into the enchantments.
Within moments sparse trees, knee-deep murky waters, and thick fog grew from the color-changing sand to cover the battlefield.
"The 1st through 10th legions were easily able to rout the four Legions of House Sitiri guarding the city of Regis, and it was much the same with the 21st through 30th legions that assaulted Extris. However, the 11th through 20th, and the 31st through 40th legions, faced far stiffer resistance in their conquests of Choban and Formis. Not only was there parity in numbers between the four groups of forces, but the timely arrival of Sirzechs Gremory and Serafall Sitiri was enough to force the famed Guison Baboon Guard into action. Even then, however, the losses were ruinous for Lord Guison... and it was something that he would never recover from given that his territories were on the border between the Old and New Satan factions."
I narrated the lead-up to this culminating battle, as the decisions made earlier on were directly responsible for the reasons why the New Satan faction was able to break through this region and spread deeper into Old Satan territory to flank the defending lines and harass the supply lines that kept them fed and armored.
"Given the Guison's talents for prophecy, I believe that Lord Sirzechs and Lady Serafall were likely planning on intervening in the conflicts at Regis and Extris, which Lord Guidson foresaw and that was why he evenly split his forces, though there had to have been some reason as to why the Lord and Lady would switch course to do battle at Choban and Formis instead. Given that no such reason is given for their alterations to their established plans I can only speculate; likely a counter-prophecy, or maybe it was blind luck or intuition?"
I looked at the map and checked it over, comparing it to my own mind's rendition, and after correcting a few mistakes, I began laying out the opposing forces on the map. Thirty-four legions of the New Satan faction stood opposed to the twenty-nine legions of Lord Guison.
"Regardless, the losses he sustained were considerable, accounting for more than 25% of his total forces, and this left his Area of Responsibility dreadfully weakened given the higher force concentrations that were known to be operating in the area. Given his portion of the line was the weakest the New Satan faction sought to capitalize on this, shifting over twelve legions from House Bael, Phenex, and Astaroth to conduct a Break-Through assault on Ataraxis before the Old Satan faction could reinforce them."
A small mountain sat in the direct center of the battlefield, providing the high ground to a select number of forces, though their utility was limited as the monstrously thick magical fogs coating the Guison lands was as much a hindrance as it was a help. The leadership of the Legions did not have a magical device that let them see where others could not, but what they did have was an intimate familiarity with the terrain; knowledge of where the solid ground was so that their soldiers could fight with sure footing while the enemies had to slog through knee-deep muck, the natural chokepoints where smaller troupes could hold off larger formations while their fellows were shuffled elsewhere, etc.
That knowledge and experience would have won them this battle if it weren't for the three freaks of nature that had participated in it: Serafall Leviathan, Ajuka Beelzebub, and Sirzechs Lucifer. While this was only a decade into the century-long Devil Civil War, the trio were still more than impactful enough on their own... even if Sirzechs was far from the Super Devil that we all see and know today.
I moved formations around the map with my mind, chess pieces with numbers floating above their heads to denote the unit numbers, and flashes of light that ended with markers on the ground indicating major battles that took place during the engagement.
Two Guison legions holed up in a thick forest in the center of the battle line, the density of the trees making it difficult for the Low-Class devils to traverse; it acted like a restrictive sieve, only allowing a few hundred through at a time no matter how many bodies were pressing at them from behind. Still, Sirzechs was there to prevent that meatgrinder from taking place by simply evaporating a few choice lines of men at the front of the Guison lines, thereby giving his attacking forces enough breathing room to build up a large enough concentration of men that couldn't be easily chopped down by lines of spears.
Five legions of Guison pressed a hard and fast attack against the leading left flank of the Phenex lines, almost completely stalling out the advance, but Ajuka Astaroth was there to apply pressure of his own.
Three Legions were dedicated to keeping Serafall Sitiri from doing what she was doing, and all she did in this battle was fly up and down the lines to erect massive pillars of ice or to create thick sheets over particularly treacherous stretches ground; the few Sitiri legions that were with her were more than familiar with fighting and advancing on slippery surfaces, which gave them a slight advantage.
One might dismiss her efforts as seemingly wasteful, but those people were idiots because I could clearly see that her true purpose in this battle was to control the field.
Units that were in danger of being broken were given relief in the form of a thick ice wall that gave them time to regroup or retreat. Units that were straggling behind due to the swampy grounds could advance more quickly over the ice. Dense Guison formations were disrupted as icy winds blasted them apart- the interruption being more important than stacking the bodies herself.
She had the lowest kill count of the three future Great Satans of this battle, but her contribution points were far higher than both Sirzechs and Ajuka in my personal opinion.
However, what most seemed to forget was that Sirzechs and Ajuka were doing their best to contribute while retaining their strength.
Lord Guison was a Pillar Lord. A Duke of Hell on par with the likes of Gremory and Astaroth both, and his strength was borderline Ultimate-Class if not Ultimate-Class in truth.
When Ultimate-Class beings come into conflict with one another death is assured, so the New Satan faction needed two Ultimate-Class devils in Sirzechs Gremory and Ajuka Astaroth in order to defeat Lord Guison... and hopefully without any life-threatening injuries or heaven forbid a death on their side.
"The Battle of Ataraxis Placid was the final blow struck in this conflict. The remaining forces of Lord Guison, while numbering fifteen legions in strength, were shattered. They would attempt to regroup in the Guison Glade but the harassing actions of Serafall Sitiri would ensure that they wouldn't be able to concentrate enough men to make another counter-assault; this left the legions under Sirzechs Gremory and Ajuka Astaroth free to make the final assault on the city Ataraxis and confront Lord Guison in a battle that would see the Lord dead," With a mental flick, I knocked over the last remaining Guison chess piece, signifying the end to the last battle of the conflict, "While their Lord was killed, the Legions of Guison would reform at the border of Malphas regions and joined their lines. They would later be slaughtered to the last man in the ensuing battles over the break-through area that would later be called 'Guison's Gap'."
I released the magic on the board and let out a soft sigh of relief once the orb's glow dimmed and it split off into two smaller orbs that shot through the walls of the library.
With a small smile on my lips, I walked away from the dais and retreated toward the front of the library where a Low-Class devil by the name of Naimira worked as one of the librarians, "Miss Naimira, did the books I ordered arrive yet?"
The woman adjusted her spectacles and nodded, "Of course, Lord Riser."
She bent out of sight, the tall desk she sat behind obscuring my vision of her, and when she returned she handed me a parcel covered in brown paper and wrapped in twine.
I grinned as I used a touch of my Phenex fire to singe the paper just enough that I could slip a slim finger underneath it and I tore it down the side to reveal the spines of the books: "Jane's Guide to Military Weapons, 1994. Jane's Guide to Military Aircraft, 1994. It Doesn't Take a Hero: The Autobiography of General Norman P. Schwarzkopf."
All three of the books were for me, but I would let General Hoffman read the third one since he seemed to be interested; the Gulf War was barely three years ago, and General Schwarzkopf had taken what the Germans had done with the Blitzkrieg and then modernized it. So seeing some of own work being utilized by the very same Americans that had defeated him was something I knew would tickle him, even if he would bite his tongue at seeing everything streamlined thanks to advancements in logistical capabilities.
"Thank you, Miss Naimira!"
"I live to serve House Phenex. Have a pleasant day."
"You as well!" I bowed lightly as I made to rush out of the library with my new books in my arms.
When I returned from dinner that night I saw the documents that I'd asked Lirianne to fetch for me, and I pulled out my pens, and papers, and booted up the brand-spanking-new Commodore 64 before I activated the enchantments on it to display the screen. A few clicks and keystrokes saw me opening up Microsoft Office 4.1 and I cracked my fingers as I stared at the screen for a few moments.
Shit.
I began rifling through the desks and drawers until I found the thin manual that came with the software bundle and leafed through it, and then I was ready to get down to business.
Spreadsheets made accounting for my inflow and outflow of personal funds a snap, a perk of being a very frugal boy who didn't spend his money on frivolous things outside of magical supplements and the occasional bag of candy, but as I began listing out the costs that I'd be paying each time I went into the Dungeon (should it still take me two days to recover) my heart started to shrivel up.
"Holy shit, dad! Just how much money are you paying my tutors!?"
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A/N: Its difficult to balance out a proper challenge for a place that is supposed to be a hellhole, and I think that this fits the description. Obviously the prisoners aren't merely restrained by the curses and the like but there is supplementary equipment that is used to keep them weak and pacified. Though no matter how strong a devil is having to constantly fight off strings of curses and illusions while having your vitality sapped is a tedious and concentration consuming task. The devil will get tired, while the Dungeon will not, and that is when mistakes are made, and their sanity starts to get eroded away. It will be a good, meaningful obstacle for him to surmount and overcome, even if it will be years before he does so simply because he can't really afford to pay the additional bills passing out for days at a time would cost him. lol Pappa Phenex is a bit more strict in this AU, and don't tolerate tomfoolery, especially when it costs him lots of money. Though Mamma Phenex has a borderline manic need to see her Prophecied Child succeed, and her confidence in her visions could possibly be causing her to have young RiserSI take risks that he normally wouldn't take that could lead to... undesireable outcomes if Marcus does not continue to act as a restricter valve to keep some of the pressure off. Not that anything like that is guaranteed to happen, but Mamma Phenex isn't quite all there all of the time despite being a stellar and lovely mother, and she is just as much a driving force behind Riser's desire for strength as his own memories are... sort of like an enabler who really should act more like a check. So poor Marcus is forced to be that check even if it brings him into conflict with his beloved wife.
Really, I'm trying to flesh out the Phenex family as a whole and how it operates. The Devils are supposed to be large and powerful, and while we know that they own major corporations and businesses world wide we don't really see anything behind the scenes that comes with it, so with Riser's somewhat unorthodox way of raising the money he needs to pay his tutors in the event that he can't make the lessons due to training related incidents well... RiserSI really cares about his pocket money and the size of his bank account, but Lord Phenex pays his best performers and most important familial assets well. Likely too well.