Chapter Sixty-One


    Ambrose did not bother talking. Instead, he tossed a [Retributions Gaze] at the summoned devil. He received a message in return that he had not seen in a long time.


    [???]


    “Huh.”


    “You thought you’d get more than just question marks. How interesting. You’re more powerful than this rabble that I can see.”


    Ambrose did not talk to the entity. Instead, he noted his nonchalance and hefted Akaroth.


    Do you know anything about this thing? He queried the dragon axe.


    Akaroth’s growling words drifted through his mind,


    I only know that it is a devil and not to be trifled with, hatchling.


    Ambrose tugged his lips into a frown. He had met devils before, notably Misaq. Of course, there was also the devil that guarded Merlin’s Grimoire, and neither looked like what he had expected devils to look like. That wasn’t surprising, as his expectations were formed by media.


    This one? It met every expectation—the personification of stereotypical evil. He calmed his mind, thinking through the situation. Honestly, he wanted to retreat. It wasn’t cowardice; it was training. The smart thing to do was to retreat, gather more information, and then deal with the foe after he was better equipped.


    Except it would cost lives if he did that. The people here signed up to face monsters that were supposed to be more or less their level. They were unprepared for a devil far beyond them in level and strength. Normally, that wouldn’t be his problem, but he had to be better than that, a mantra he had been repeating to himself lately. Then there was Elayne. Yes, it was Stroud that killed her, but ultimately it was in service to the monster before him.


    He lifted Akaroth, and the devil laughed,


    “You intend to fight, I see. I could use a little warm-up, even against a roach.”


    The devil flicked a finger almost lazily, and a fireball larger than a man’s head flew his way, scorching the air as it flew. Ambrose raised Akaroth, slashing through the fireball with a burst of lightning.


    “Oh, how interesting. You have a toy. Alright, let’s amp it up just slightly.”


    This time, the fireball was doubled in size and flew even faster. Ambrose still cut it down. He sent a thought toward Noelle,


    I need to fight this guy at full power, and I don’t think anything you can do will affect him.


    She wasn’t happy, her ears flattening, but she nodded, seeing that he was right. Her form brightened, flowing towards him until she was a cloak around his neck again. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    The devil was scratching his pointed chin,


    “I may have to put a little effort into this. How interesting, indeed!”


    This time, the devil shot multiple fireballs at him from different angles as he floated around counterclockwise, the bored look never leaving his face.


    Ambrose tapped his mana and called upon [Hellfire Manipulation], creating portals that swallowed up the fireballs, spitting them right back out at the devil and detonating in an explosion of crimson fury.


    When the fire faded, the devil stood, smiling slightly and utterly unharmed.


    “Ah, so you use portals. I’d say you’re at C-Grade and a sage. Your foundation is solid, and you should be proud. You’re not at a level where you can effectively beat me. I tell you what: I’m in a whimsy mood. I call it a full stomach. I want to see how powerful you get. Meet me in a world called Xanalia; you’ll know it when you reach that level and go to the arena of wrath/ I’ll be waiting. Ta!”


    A portal not unlike the one Ambrose made tore through reality behind the devil, who floated through it, a grin on his face. It closed moments later.


    Ambrose tightened his grip on Akaroth, staring at where the devil had vanished. Only when he was absolutely certain the threat had passed did he relax, putting Akaroth in his infernal realm. He looked around, and found most of the cult members who had assisted in the summoning were gone.


    There was one laying on the ground, but he was dead. Ambrose could tell because the body looked like a grey, lifeless husk. Whatever ritual had been used to summon the devil, it had exacted a terrible price.


    Mana death.


    Akaroth’s voice sounded interested in his head. He had never heard the term before.


    What’s that?


    With a flick of her mind, Akaroth twitched in his hands towards the corpse.


    That. It is what happens when there is not enough mana within your core to power a skill or spell. This ritual instead drew on their lifeforce.


    It was a reminder to be careful not to go too far. Ambrose didn’t feel like he had ever gotten close to the point of drawing on his own lifeforce, but it was good to know what would happen if he ever pushed it.


    Ignoring the husk, he went to the where the ritual circle had been, standing over Elayne’s corpse. He hadn’t known her for long, and her death certainly didn’t hit him as hard as his wife’s…but it was something else he put on his shoulders.


    He manifested Noelle at her prodding, and she too stared mutely down at the once determined young woman now a corpse. He gritted his teeth.


    He had gotten overconfident. All of his progress made him believe he would have no problems in this world. Made him think he would be able to steamroll every challenge.


    His father had taught him better, and yet he continued to make the same mistakes. Sure, he deliberately ignored some of his father''s teaching, because at the time he had been rebelling against what he felt was an unseen leash around his throat.


    He had to be better, or he would keep losing people.


    Elayne had dreams, she had goals, a life ahead of her.


    “All gone, now.” He looked up into the night sky.


    He didn’t vow revenge, he was already on that path. He didn’t make a promise to her.


    But he did grieve for her.


    Using portals he transferred dirt until he had a deep hole in the ground. Picking up Elayne’s corpse, he buried her.


    Even with portals, it took him a while.


    After she was covered, buried beneath the ground, Ambrose stood for a while.


    “Is there anything you’d like to say?”


    Noelle’s expression was somewhere between sad and fierce.


    “She was a friend,” was all she said.


    Ambrose nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder.


    “Yes, she was.”


    Ambrose would never forget her, and though he wouldn’t rage down a path of vengeance for her as he was doing for his wife, he would take the devil up on his offer. After he dealt with Eric, he had a list of items to take care of. Now, he could include finding that world and that arena on it.


    Noelle tucked herself into his side, small tears rolling down her cheeks. Almost awkwardly, he put an arm around her, trying to send her comforting thoughts. Sometimes, if he wasn’t careful, it was easy to see Noelle as a child, and not a mythical being with her own mind and emotions.


    They stood there for some time with nothing but each other and a gentle wind for company.