Last Drop of Hope, Chapter 22 (Patreon)

When one thought of a CEO, most typically imagined decadent opulence. Expensive hardwoods from long extinct trees, fine art in the form of paintings, tapestries, and statues, gold and jewels, and elegantly designed spaces. Those who saw the dwelling of Hans of Santomon Chemicals would be sadly disappointed. Certainly, the upper levels of his penthouse had all the gilt and finery one expected, but down in the basement, it was a dark, festering bog.

For finery and refinement were for humanoids and so-called “uplifted races.” Hans was not, in fact, human. He looked it, taking on the form of a tall, tanned human man with a neatly trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed hair, though he eschewed fancy suits, and wore a button-down shirt left all the way open, exposing a muscular build.

It was thus rather incongruous to see that his chosen lair was a stone cave, looking out over a toxic mire. Filled with sulfurous gasses, toxic fungi, and several species of flesh eating plants from Old Belzerg, it was not a place a human with less than grade 4 protective gear could survive very long.

At the moment, Hans had shucked off his human form, and was slowly gliding through his hideous marsh, the remains of the messengers who’d brought him the latest bad news digesting in his liquid body. He was massive, at least 12 meters tall, and more than four times that across, with tendrils up to 20 meters in length snaking off his body that could have raised his height even further if they’d stood fully erect. His eyes were two giant glowing orbs that floated in the dark red goo of his body, and a great maw filled with teeth the size of ponies,razor sharp and dripping with venom, were his only distinguishable features.

This was the Apex Predator of Old Belzerg, the height of lethality in a land called a death world even before the Devil King’s victory by those that visited it from other realms, and rightfully so. The favored prey of Poison Slimes had been giant magical beasts such as dragons, manticores, mammoths, and hydras.

And of course, mankind.

A poison slime hunted by shapeshifting into something innocuous, their potent magics concealing them from all but the sharpest senses and spells. They would either pretend to be harmless prey animals and wait for a dragon or the like to attempt to eat them, only to turn the tables, or wander into a settlement or city of one of the various races, then poison and consume every member of the community. It had been a brutally effective tactic that had worked for millennia, with the only saving grace being the extremely long reproductive cycle of Poison Slimes and the fact that they were fiercely territorial cannibals. A slime would lay a batch of eggs, the first of which to hatch would usually consume its siblings, then avoid its parent.

Then, everything had changed when a new goddess arrived in Belzerg, and started her own cult:

Aqua. Goddess of Water and Healing.

To the Axis Cult, poison slimes had been the ultimate evil. Blighting the land, causing only destruction, and fouling the sacred waters of their lady. Armed with potent purification magic that was the poison slime’s bane, and their patron’s sacred Axis Brand Edible Soap, the Axis Cult had undertaken a centuries long extermination campaign that had been shocking in its success. Where dragons, armies, and mighty heroes had failed, a pleasure cult with a zealous streak had succeeded.

So, Hans had become the last of the Poison Slimes, his kind hunted to extinction. Like most of his species, he was not the resentful sort, and while he hated the Axis Cult, it was because they threatened his status as the most powerful predator on the planet by turning him into prey, not because they had slain his brethren. And so, when the Last Devil King had approached Hans to become one of his Generals, Hans had agreed.

And he had set about on a plan to annihilate the Axis Cult.

It had been a simple but brilliant plan: while their goddess and high prelate had been away on the battlefield, fighting against Hans’ army, he had infiltrated the city of Alcanrettia with ease. At the time, Belzerg had been teetering, but had still been holding fast. There were still a dozen or so gods left, along with as many kingdoms of Men and other races loyal to them that had survived.

Hans had not simply transformed and engaged in an orgy of violence. Oh, he would have torn the heart out of the Axis Cult, but he would have fallen eventually. No, he had used subtlety. Slowly, he had begun to poison the city's water supply. It had been a city famous for its volcanic hotsprings, sacred to the Goddess Aqua, and they had been renowned for their healing properties. He had gone slowly at first, not enough to be noticed. A well going bad here. A spring turning too sulfurous there.

And then in one night, he had infused his essence into the mountain spring that fed the town. The region had been blighted for miles and miles. Half a million people, dead by a single stroke. Aqua’s sacred springs turned to charnel pits. Her cathedrals and churches defaced. Her followers were reduced to a tithe of their former numbers.

Hans liked to think that this had been the turning point. When Humanity and the Gods had gone from teetering to plunging into the abyss. And he was correct in many ways. Aqua had been despondent. Hans had ambushed her forces on their way back home, and he thought he had killed the goddess, along with her champion and high clerics.

Well. He would finish the job this time.

Ruminating on that, Hans headed towards the exit to his swamp, taking on his humanoid form once more as he stepped out of the swamp and towards the elevator. He spat out a bit of metal and plastic he’d failed to digest properly, grabbing some come clothes and slipping them on before heading up to meet with his security forces.

Beldia had always been a fool. Armies and open conflict were all well and good, but that was playing the game the way your enemy wanted to play. With reports of a living Belzerg and the Axis Cult returned, open warfare was suicide, or at least incredibly wasteful. Beldia probably would have won if he’d stayed off the field himself and just let his mortal troops have it out. Even Belzergs wore down eventually.

No, Hans knew how this game was played, and he intended to upend the board and solve it his own way. He grinned, showing off perfect white teeth.

“Been a long time since I had a proper meal…I hope you’re big and juicy, Iris Belzerg. It’s time to remind everyone why Hans the Poison Slime is the deadliest of them all.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Looking up at the display, Sylvia gritted their teeth and suppressed their outrage. The skies of Discord were clogged with shattered warships and broken space stations. Only one of her stations had survived the carnage, and it was still moderately damaged. There was no danger of losing it, but it would cost billions to restore it to what it once had been.

The remnants of the Chimera Tech fleet, along with Masked Media and the Church of Serenity were clustered around the moon, licking their wounds. Though they were now the largest fleet in the sector and ultimately victorious, there was an ongoing battle around the planet still, especially now that Beldia had fallen, and his captains were up for bid. That meant there was a lull in the fighting as the various factions tried to woo NyteTech’s remaining ships over, but things had been completely brutal.

ShopWiz had come off by far the worse for wear in the space war, if you ignored the fact that ShopWiz had successfully stolen the Belzerg in Sylvia’s collection. Still, her space fleet, always the smallest and worst equipped, was all but gone, with a few shattered squadrons hiding out in the black. The Cat’s Eye Group was similarly badly beaten, having found no ready allies and being the second smallest fleet.

Santomon Chemicals had lost its primary ally, but Hans’ ships had been hiding some incredibly nasty surprises and had punched far outside their weight class. Beldia had fielded the largest and most militarized fleet to the surprise of no one, which was why what remained was so valuable to the other powers. It was rumored Wiz had even put in some bids, though she was too broke to have much money.

Instead of going to reclaim their lost property, Sylvia was stuck on Discord for now. It would be a while before enough debris were cleared for safe flights to and from the lunar surface. Some flights could take place, but Sylvia wasn’t prone to needless risks.

Then, of course, there was the tiny matter that a goddess was running around on Belzerg’s surface again by all indications. It hadn’t been Eris getting out of her cell again after all: somehow, after all this time, Aqua had shown up again. A rather irritatingly powerful goddess, but also a complete idiot. The real issue would be capturing her and confining her so that Sylvia could maintain their monopoly on food.

In the current situation, that wasn’t possible without allies. And so, unfortunately, Sylvia had been forced to turn to those on the surface that were at least reasonably competent.

“Mwahahaha! Delicious, the ennui, the impotent rage, the immeasurable disappointment! These are the emotions moi treasures!”

Even if Vanir was one of the most annoying beings in all of existence.

Feigning indifference, Sylvia shrugged and foldered their arms over their chest. “You couldn’t feed off my emotions even if I were right next to you. You gave that up ages ago.”

“Hohoho, that is what YOU think, O Woman who is never satisfied with his form! Thou were ever one to gasp far beyond they reach! Moi has long known that thou imprisoned the luckless moon goddess and the royal scion, and a few other things. Moi wonders what dearest Serina thinks of this?”

Serina grinned toothily, then blew out a puff of smoke from her cigarette. “Why do you think I can keep smoking these death sticks and not get throat cancer every fifty years? You’re not the only one keeping something locked up in the basement to give you a power boost. Though I do have to wonder how you got the food thing going. Maybe I’ll have to see if I can get Dearest Regina to give me some leafy greens. Been fucking ages since I didn’t have to pay through the nose for a decent salad.”

That was a bit surprising. Sylvia had suspected Regina was still alive, and that Serina had the Goddess of Revenge chained up as some kind of power source, but hadn’t expected Serina to come out and say it.

“If we’re being open, I do have Eris on lockdown, along with a few potent other sources. The Belzerg that killed Belida was one of them, but she was taken by agents from ShopWiz that infiltrated my organization,” Sylvia stated. “I’ll want her back, but we can negotiate on the Aqua front.”

“I thought that was fucking obvious,” Serina grimaced, flicking away the butt of her cigarette. “It was a mistake to kill off all the gods. Planet’s dying. What you did on Discord? Smart. We can do that here too. Or, shit, maybe take her to another planet and start over there. Have our final revenge on this shithole.”

“Moi cares not what you mortals do with the goddess of arts and crafts. Moi rather likes the way this world has turned out. Endless disappointment and despair! Truly, a buffet for the ages!” Vanir cackled, spreading his arms wide.

Idiot demon. If the world died, that would mean no mortals for him to torture and feed off of! Even if he did do it by making his silly entertainment and feeding off the disappointment his carefully crafted works produced. He was still no friend to anyway, and Sylvia would have to be cautious. When the power of other demons had waned, Vanir had wasted no time in selling them up the river. What he had done to the succubi in particular had been brilliant, but brutal and devious. They’d become largely mortal, and thus, a prime candidate for Vanir to feed off of. How he’d maintained his own power was something of a mystery, but Slyvia suspected he still had a line back to Hell.

“I can agree to let Serina have Aqua, in exchange for the return of my Belzerg. I’ll need landing zones for my army as well,” Sylvia said with a shrug.

“Hmm, Moi thinks you ask much and offer little. What possible reason could moi have to try to capture the Queen of a Land that No Longer Exists?” Vanir demanded.

“Oh shut up, she’s still got the food, and most of our ships, plus the only half way functional dockyard around,” Seria said with a snort, taking out another cigarrette and a lighter. She lit up, sucking in the smoke, and blowing it out her nose. “Tell you want. You fix up our ships and get a supply line running for us, and I’ll capture you the Belzerg and toss in some of the juiced up maniacs she’s got running around now. I hear there’s two high nobles. Can you get juice out of them?”

High nobles? Sylvia hadn’t heard that. It was definitely possible to get some mana out of a high noble or two. Maybe they could afford to let Serina live for a while after this. After all, it would be interesting to let someone else experiment on a god and see what you could get. And Aqua had a history of being just a bit too volatile for Sylvia’s tastes. Best to let someone else work out the kinks in keeping her contained. Eris had been bad enough.

“That sounds acceptable to me. As for you, Vanir, perhaps I’ll let you feed on the despair of a goddess. How does that sound?” Sylvia offered.

Vanri rubbed his chin, but Sylvia could tell she already had him. “Hmm, moi will consent to this! Though mayhaps moi will have further conditions later. For now, we are agreed that our pact shall continue? It would not do for the goddess of puddles and tears to restore the old order.”

“What is she gonna do?” Sylvia said with a snort of irritation. “Summon another loser from Earth for us to massacre? Please. We beat the gods before because they were all fools. And Aqua was the most foolish of them all.”

They all agreed and signed off, and Sylvia stretched, then summoned Sena. Her slave hurried in, dressed in a policewoman’s hat, a modest blouse, and a tiny miniskirt with no underwear and high heels. She adjusted her glasses, the dragon tail Sylvia had given her swishing back and forth. “Repairs are continuing at the pace you requested, and actually a little ahead of schedule. Our ships will be done in days. We have more than enough materials with all the salvage.”

“Start on the Serenity ships first, then the Masked Media ones. Not too many of either, keep their numbers somewhat even. Have the flight paths been cleared?” Slyvia demanded.

“Clear enough for some flights, but it’s still dangerous as there’s a lot of untracked debries. Armored shuttles can make it, but, well, we did lose one this morning…attrition rates are acceptable for now, though,” Sena said nervously, looking up at Sylvia over her data pad.

Sylvia growled, but didn’t protest too hard. It would be foolish to leave Discord now anyway. No, let other fools deal with Aqua for a time.

“You have done well, pet,” Sylvia declared, mood having improvised mightily at the prospect of gaining back more that had been lost. Yes, Syvlia was still on top, in more ways than one. This could all work out for the better still.

Turning back towards the display, Syvlia hungrily eyed Belzerg. Perhaps it could become a jewel worth conquering. The other CEOs crushed underfoot, the gods chained as power sources, and nothing to contest the endless reign of the Chimera.

Everything, and everyone. It would all belong to Sylvia the Fleshshaper.