Inc Inc 3 -CH9- (Patreon)

Out in front of Sam was a collection of soldiers in equipment that looked like they were just before the time of pike and shot. Kitted out in arms and armor that one could easily find in documenatries, history books, or museums.

Though it all had a “Hell”-like flair to it. Spikes, horns, rust, red paint, it had a strange look to it all. Sam assumed it had to do with the fact that there wasn’t much in the way of material in Hell. Everything here would be scrounged from the earth, other planes, or likely elsewhere.

Moving out past the fighting on the fringes Sam was immediately intercepted by several soldiers. All of them were wielding short-spears with shields.

Sam lifted his left hand and grabbed the two soldiers approaching from his left. Wrapping them up in a spell of force he locked away their movement.

Lunging forward with his right hand, his sword-tip out in front, he caught the third soldier in the arm. No sooner than the Essence constructed weapon sunk into the soldier’s flesh then Sam acted.

Using his sword as if it were a straw, he began to greedily devour their life-essence. In less than three-seconds of pulling at them with the utmost force, they were drained.

There was nothing left but to take in their soul and end their existence completely. Leaving nothing behind at all, as if he were cleaning his plate of every speck.

No!

No… never again. That’s where I draw the line.

Just like Irma said. I’m me, but I’m also not me.

Except that wasn’t what Sam was going to do. He wasn’t quite the same old Sam as he used to be. He’d grown incredibly, just as Irma had said.

Stopping just shy of exterminating the soldier’s soul, Sam ceased his attack then removed the sword.

Slumping to the ground, the soldier was already dead. Their soul would leave the body shortly and move to the actual afterlife.

Filled with the fresh life-essence of a Cambion, Sam felt much better. It wasn’t anywhere near the strength he would have gotten had he taken the soul along with it, especially since most of the life-essence came from the soul, but he was satisfied.

If he was able to convert most of the enemies on the field into life-essence, he imagined he might have a chance of shaving off an entire month or two off the spell that lingered around him. Perhaps even more if he didn’t have to save any Essence in reserve.

Pulling with his left hand, Sam jerked the two soldiers he’d bound forward. With two neat lunges, one after the other, he drained and dropped both of those combatants as well.

One of the reasons Sam had grown in power was he wasn’t a common Incubus. He was different though it was by choice.

Where most of his kind lived only for pleasure and what they could get easily, Sam had invested back into himself. He’d taken his Incubus abilities and expanded the control and power of them.

Augmented them in terrifying ways with his Essence-Sorcery and practiced upon thousands of Demons. Without guilt or a care for them, as Hell was of course, Hell.

Training what he could do to the point that he could actually drain someone in seconds. Which was unimaginably faster compared to his own kind. A normal Incubus or Succubus could do it in thirty minutes if they tried.

It was the same reason he’d survived on his own plane by himself for so long. Mental control and the willingness to do what he had to do.

Moving forward again, Sam stabbed his blade into another soldier. Then another, and another, and another.

If he pushed any further, or faster, the flank would collapse next and start to get rolled up. Which honestly wasn’t what Sam wanted at the moment.

That wouldn’t actually serve his goals.

He needed to drain a great many more soldiers. To work his way down the line and take out as many as he could.

Rather morbid but… this is a battle and they’re my enemy.

I’m taking their lives, just as if I had a weapon, and sending their souls onward. I’m not… I’m not doing anything terrible here.

This is a war in Hell.

I’m not harming their afterlife, just sending them there. I’m also responsible for a judge being there to send them on.

This… this is fine.

Sam suddenly felt much more at ease with what he was doing. All he was doing was actively playing the part of a soldier.

Sending his enemies into the afterlife. He certainly was using a different means to do it, but it was no different than if he’d cut off their head.

Discarding the tabbard he was wearing with a small twitch of Essence-Sorcery Sam infiltrated the enemy lines. Passing right through a small group of people after spinning around and putting his back to them.

He moved backward into their number as if he were facing down their same enemies. Just that he was returning to the line or needed to step out of it.

People made room for him to do so, the enemies numbers enveloping him fully.

The soldiers hadn’t been paying attention to what Sam was doing as he dropped their comrades. Being involved in their own fights, they had more pressing concerns at the time.

Elbowing and shoving his way backward Sam managed to brute force his way through soldiers who didn’t want to be at the front. Making them give way for him.

Popping out the back of the line, Sam looked to the side, or down the battle-line as it were. He could see there were several points where the line was bulging both toward the city-lord and also toward his opponent. Ground was being made on both sides.

Sam decided he’d just eat as much as he could, as fast as he could, before he went after larger targets.

Moving along the back of the line Sam laid his left hand to the back’s of soldiers. He would drain them of most of their life force, leaving them with just enough to stay standing, and move on.

The difference in taking their life, versus simply knocking them to a nearly unconscious state, was infinitesimal. To Sam though, that was the difference between creating a visible issue, people falling over, and nothing being out of the ordinary.

In other words, he imagined he could drain far more soldiers if he left them with enough to stay upright. Which considering he was now working on perhaps the thirtieth soldier, he couldn’t fault his logic.

Grabbing onto the soldier he was targeting, Sam had only taken part of their life-force when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. In the same moment the hand spun him around.

Sam was now face to face with what appeared to be a Demon of higher than normal standing. The Essence flowing around them spoke to actually knowing how to use it correctly.

It also meant he wouldn’t be able to simply drain this person and leave them on the ground as a husk.

“What are you doing!?” shouted the Demon. They had a masculine voice but Sam couldn’t see any of their features. Not to mention the armor left everyone looking relatively the same regardless of gender.

Unable to help himself, Sam smirked at the person across from him, then went to skewer them with his weapon. If he could connect with the strike he’d be able to drain them rather quickly.

A second before his blade pierced the person’s side they stumbled backward. Tumbling away from Sam and scrambling away on all fours.

Oh. They dodged.

Surprising.

They’re worth a little respect.

Lifting his blade up Sam held it vertically with the tip pointing to the sky. Tilting his head toward his opponent he waited for them to stand.

Last time I was in a sword-fight I was running low on power and couldn’t really let myself go. This time… it’s different.

Because I can just go back to draining soldiers afterward.

Once the officer, or Sam figured since they were in an actual suit of armor that included a colored tabbard, had their weapon drawn he closed in on them.

Bleeding some Essence off he empowered his body to move faster. Beyond it’s limits, in fact. To the point that his muscles were tearing with the speed he was putting on.

Lunging forward with what he liked to think of as his flashing lunge, Sam aimed for the officer’s heart.

Their blade came up and barely intercepted Sam’s. Knocking it to the side just enough that the tip scraped along their metal pauldron then away.

Moving with the lunge, Sam shuffle-stepped to the left and whipped his sword down and to the right. The slash caught the upper-arm of the officer and neatly sheared off a number of rings in their chain mail.

The metal links clattered and pinged off the rest of the armor as they fell into the grass below. They’d done their job and had redirected his strike, however. Sam hadn’t actually made contact with the officer’s skin.

Rather than let him keep the advantage, the officer used their shield as a weapon. Trying to slam the edge of it against Sam’s leading leg.

If I accept the blow, I can get my sword up and under their armor.

Once that happens I can drain him.

Not moving his leg, Sam instead tried to reinforce it with Essence. At the same time he transfered his sword to his left hand. The weapon vanishing and reappearing in a fraction of a second.

Striking forward with it Sam managed to slam it into the officer’s midsection. The blow of the shield on Sam’s leg was enough to shatter the bone despite having reinforced it.

It didn’t matter now though. He’d gotten his “straw” into the officer. Pulling hard through his sword Essence began to flow rapidly into Sam. Far more than he had been expecting, in truth.

The flavor of the Essence gave him an answer after a second of thought. This happened to be an actual Demon-Knight. They weren’t rare, but they were uncommon as a race.

Sam didn’t stop until there was little more than a few drops of Essence left in the knight. To the point that they collapsed to the ground, their hands coming up to cover the wound in their abdomen.

Groaning, they laid there, nearly unmoving.

“I didn’t hit anything vital,” Sam offered to the Demon-Knight. “You’ll live providing no one else takes your life.”

Sam made a dismissive hand gesture and looked to area surrounding him.

All around him were officers with raised weapons, looking to him. They were likely all Demon-Knights as well.

Sam could easily dispatch them one by one, but if they grouped up on him, he’d have issues. His superiority over others came mostly from his combat ability in a one on one fight.

This would be too much without anyone to fight at his side. At this moment, he suddenly lamented that he didn’t have Jes or Aster with him.

Or even Wren, if he thought about it.

Any of those three would be quite at home in a situation like this.

Sighing, Sam realized that his little buffet was over. He needed to move on the city-lord’s opponent now. This general who cost him his “favorite mistress”.

Snapping his wings out Sam leapt into the air with several beats of his wings. Rapidly sailing up into the air and clearing the encirclement, he unfortunately put himself into a different frame of danger.

The Essence-Sorcerers and missile weapons of the army were now targeting him. Several lightning-bolts, fireballs, and rods of ice shot out from various points. On top of that were a number of crossbow-bolts and arrows, as well.

Mm. Yes.

That’s fine though. I’m not actually trying to escape.

I just needed enough height so that I can dive.

Folding his wings and angling them, Sam put himself into a shallow dive. Holding his hands out at his sides and dismissed his weapon. Right now it would be more of a hindrance considering his plan.

Sam searched for a second and then locked his vision to the point he was planning on landing.

Right atop the enemy general.

This army was established through the strength of character and arms of one person. Sam would just swing through, pick up the general, and take her with him.

As if his attention attracted hers, the general’s uncovered head swung towards him. She was a fairly normal looking Demon-Knight.

Even from this distance he could tell that was her species given the horns, skin color, eyes, and aura of Essence bleeding off around her.

She had short black hair that was pulled back from her face. Her features and expression were hard with steep lines that made her look grim, though not unattractive.

Her eyes were a glowing red that were a few shades lighter than her crimson colored skin. Black horns swept backward from her brow for six or seven inches in an elegant curve. She was attractive in general, let alone for her species.

Quite a few Demon-Knights. They seem to be filling out the upper-ranks of this army, as well.

Hm.

That’s rather curious. I honestly expected a lesser pit-lord or some such to be in charge. Or just a Hellfiend, perhaps.

This is all so strange. Hell is considerably different than I remember it and continues to be strange.

A second after he finished that thought Sam blasted through the general. His hands latching to their shoulders and pulling them clean off the ground.

“Good morning,” Sam said casually as he held onto the general. “Try not to kill yourself in the landing.”

“Wh-”

Before the general could finish a word Sam let go. Following along behind the falling Demon-Knight.

Hitting the turf with a thump she bounced and then tumbled along through the grass. She left an impressive channel in the ground from where she struck and slid along.

Landing within a foot of where the general came to a stop Sam spread his wings out. Holding his hand out he summoned his Essence-wrought blade once more. Placing the tip at the Demon-Knight’s throat.

Where he had it right now was all muscle and flesh. There was nothing ultimately important directly beneath his blade.

But most people didn’t know anatomy.

It’d been critical for him when he was constructing avatars and golems to know all the bits and pieces that went into a body.

“You may consider your war over,” Sam said while giving her a wide smile. Then he showed her his teeth and pushed further.

The tip of his blade broke the skin and sank a full inch into her neck.

The muscles that’d started to tense in the general went slack, her eyes flying wide open in pain. Her whole body froze up as she clearly fought the instinctive nature to jerk away from what was causing her harm.

“As I said, you may consider your war over. If I were you… I’d probably send them the signal through your brand,” said Sam. Doing such a thing would be the quickest and easiest way to get word to her army that this was done.

Looking like a mask of pain and rage, the general’s face was stretched taught over a grimace. One that displayed her full set of teeth. Each and every one was serrated and rather pointed.

“Lovely smile, by the way,” Sam said, tilting his head to one side. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the command group of the general all locked in place. They weren’t going to risk her life by rushing him, but they were also ready to attack if he took her life. “Did you do the work yourself?”

Wheezing, the general was staring up at him without saying anything.

Pulling his arm back, Sam let the inch of his blade stuck in her slide free. Blood began to immediately well up from the puncture he’d left behind.

Lifting her arm the Demon-Knight pressed a hand to her neck, her leather-gloved hand covering the hole.

“Yes, I surrender to you, my lord,” muttered the general. “Though… I… my army doesn’t serve under my brand. None of them are bound to me in such a way.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at that.

She didn’t bind them? How odd.

Adam had all of his people subjected to his brand.

Though he’d said it was a familial one, and not his own. Which made sense at the time considering it was a family run business.

Is there something more here?

“May I cast a spell to declare surrender?” asked the general.

“I suppose there’s no alternative,” said Sam. “Though I’ll warn you now. If it’s anything I dislike, the spell that is, I’ll just cut the Essence free and you can suffer the back-lash. I promised I’d deliver you alive, but not in one piece.”

“As I said, I surrender myself to you, my lord,” repeated the general. “Will you accept that?”

“Of course,” Sam said, moving his eyes back to the general. “How else would I take you captive if you didn’t surrender. Now… on with the spell.”

Nodding her head, the general lifted her free hand and pointed it palm up towards the sky.

Between her fingers she began to form a spell.

Made from Essence and looking far more like a human mage-constructed thing, Sam felt rather unsure at the moment.

It didn’t look anything like Essence-Sorcery to him.

There was no well of her personal self in it. No brand. A connection to what she wished to happen wasn’t there, nor her visualization of it.

This truly was some type of bastardized version of Essence-Sorcery mixed with Human magery.

Watching, he waited.

What should have taken her a handful of seconds stretched out into an entire half a minute. The general forming Human made runes into her spellwork as well.

“Your Essence-Sorcery is terrible,” Sam finally said in an irritable tone. He also wanted to prod at this to learn if she even had a brand. He was beginning to suspect she didn’t. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Losing focus, the general’s eyes snapped to Sam’s, her brows drawing down at the center. She was practically glaring at him.

“Are you just trying to signal surrender?” asked Sam. “Because if you are, just tie the construct to your brand, push your desire through the Essence, channel it into the form, and let it rip. Then control it directly with your brand.”

“I… don’t have a brand. My family dismissed me,” said the general, the magic in her hand fading away entirely.

“Your personal brand, fool. Not a familial one,” offered Sam. This was the question he’d been wanting to ask. Except he didn’t know how to ask it without admitting his ignorance to the situation.

“Personal brand?” asked the Demon-Knight. “Personal brands don’t work anymore. Only familial brands work.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at that. He knew for a fact that his own brand worked perfectly fine given that he’d just used it to seal a pact.

Holding his left hand open, Sam summoned his brand. A fully formed two-dimensional version of it appearing then and there.

“You lie. As you can see, my personal brand is quite functional,” turning his hand over he held it palm down in front of the general’s face. “You will cast your spell through my brand now and we will end this.”

“I-yes, my lord. Of course, my lord. Immediately,” stammered the general. Putting her hand up against his own she rapidly threw out a proper Essence-Sorcery spell.

It lacked determination, and definition, as well as being incredibly crude, but it was at least the correct magic type.

There was no human-magics involved whatsoever.

A few seconds later and a spell was launched up into the air.

Detonating a few hundred feet in the sky it let out a vast feeling of despair, and defeat. That those who served her should surrender and lay down their arms.

“There,” Sam said, standing upright. Dismissing his sword he put his hands behind his back. “Now, let’s deliver you to the city-lord.”