The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series, Dan Sugralinov [the read aloud family TXT] 📗

tailor twitching unnaturally, then saw his health bar falling and rushed to protect him.

“Stop! Don’t kill him!”

“Why not?” came the question from several angry voices at once. It turned out there were several in favor of a lynching, including Bloomer. “He’s a traitor! A scumbag!”

Quetzal, Hellfish and Kara, who were used to discipline, helped me protect the traitor, who was curled up into a ball on the ground.

“Hox will be punished!” I declared. “But first I need to check something.”

Grabbing the tailor by the collar, I dragged him to the graveyard. He had less than a quarter health left. The others followed behind. Destiny walked proudly beside me.

At the edge of the cemetery, I looked around:

“Despot!”

My demonic ally separated from the shadows, his bony spines clattering. He came closer.

I spoke to the demon:

“Hey, Horns, tell me — who is this mortal to me?”

“Pff…” the demon snorted out a great gush of steam. “An enemy. Will you give him to me?”

“Take him!” I said, pushing Hox toward him.

Despot launched the tailor into the air, threw back his head and opened his mouth. The gnome’s body began to char before he even landed. The jaws clamped shut, the demon chewed on Hox a moment, bones crunched, then he swallowed. I could see the flesh melting inside him through his exoskeleton.

The people behind me stirred. There were cries of disgust. Close up, the sight was sickening. Destiny gripped my arm hard, driving her nails in and unable to tear her eyes away as the demon licked his lips and belched out flame.

I nodded at the girl:

“What about her, ally?”

“The elf girl? An enemy also,” Despot flamed. Destiny reeled back. “Formerly. Now she considers herself your ally, but she will betray you if the opportunity presents itself.”

“He’s a demon, he’s trying to get in your head!” Destiny whispered furiously. “Don’t trust him, Scyth!”

“Correction…” Despot continued. “Something is happening in the elf girl’s soul, something is changing. Her old values are reforming, but what it will lead to, I cannot say. There is much murk. After it subsides, then all will be clear.”

Meister moved forward and shouted desperately:

“Check me! I have nothing to hide!”

“Not an enemy,” the demon shook his head. “Shame. But not a friend either. The old gnome has a special interest in you. Financial.”

“What about me?” sculptor Anna asked.

“You, mortal, are out for yourself. But you will not betray my ally, even if it is in your interests. You are committed!”

Far from everyone wanted to be checked. Many moved back as soon as Meister called them for the loyalty test. It was easy to understand them. I was no longer the naive schoolboy from the sandbox. I knew that some had become my allies not out of free will, but out of necessity.

“I’ll say it straight, kid — I don’t like you,” Hellfish muttered while Despot was evaluating him.

“The changeling isn’t lying, he truly dislikes you,” the demon confirmed. “But he does not see you as an enemy.”

“Quetzal?” I pointed at the titan. He reluctantly stepped forward.

“This child of Uranus and Gaia is no enemy to you. He will not betray you. He is not a friend, but could become one,” Despot answered. “But you know what? Friendship, love, family… You mortals give too much meaning to that which is worthless. You believe us demons evil. Why? Because we refused to bow to the New Gods? You bowed to them, so why are we evil, we who rejected the enslavement of our souls and lost them up to keep our freedom? And why are you so good, you slaves of Nergal, Marduk and the other New Gods? Who decided it so? There is neither good nor evil…”

I tensed — if Abaddon had seen the marks of the Sleepers in my soul, then no doubt Despot had too.

“Worry not, ally,” the demon continued. “I will not reveal your secret. But I speak not of you! Mortals believe us evil, but if there is evil in the world, then it is no horned demon, it is the three-headed beast that eats your souls alive. And those heads are cowardice, greed and treachery. If one sinks its teeth into your soul, then the other two will swallow it up.”

“Oh, we’re onto philosophy now,” Meister said, rolling his eyes. “And no Roman here to debate with.”

The demon cast an appraising glance at the jeweler:

“Surprise, surprise, the gnome is not hopeless!” He looked at me. “I am sick of this, ally. Weak souls, small spirits. Not to mention those hiding behind your back — pathetic and wretched in their substance. I do not know why you need them. You should give them to me to eat, and be done with them!”

The game day would end in a few minutes. Finding Youlang now was a hopeless task. We decided to spend the night in the tavern for the rested buff, which would give us a boost to experience tomorrow.

When they saw us, the villagers suddenly screamed in panic and hid in their houses.

“What’s up with them?” Meister asked, looking up and down the emptying street.

“Something to do with Scyth’s pet, I think,” Hellfish said, chuckling.

I ordered Despot to hide in the shadows. Laughing, the demon disappeared from view.

We were nearly at the tavern when a familiar face poked out of the blacksmith. Looking this way and that, the man walked out and shouted joyfully:

“You’re alive! I’ve been here. The local blacksmith let me hide.”

It was Infect, level 1 bard. His reappearance impressed nobody.

“Good job… hiding…” Quetzal said dryly.

My other allies stared hard at the boy. He looked between them desperately.

“Well, what was I supposed to do? I was on my last life, and the Markers were all over…” Suddenly, he saw me standing