Volume 2 Chapter 41 – Compelled by Oath (Patreon)

Will you give it a rest already, you stupid oath? I am already doing everything I can.

Azrael clutched uncomfortably at his chest, trying to lessen the gnawing feeling that hadn't let up since early afternoon. It was supposed to be a day of rest and respite after the Festival. A time he had been looking forward to since he was constantly busy managing the competition and making sure that everything went flawlessly.

Getting the sphinx to cooperate was the trickiest bit. The beast had actually once lived in Morrigan's world, a long time ago. But as the humans of that world developed technologies Doppelta couldn't even dream of and the natural magic became more sparse, many monsters sought refuge in different worlds. Sphinx was one of them.

Azrael learned about it when he was researching Earth and decided that its riddles would make for an interesting addition to the maze. So he tracked it down and after a long annoying battle and three answered riddles, he managed to convince it to help.

Would have been better if the beast was stupid. Then I could have just subjugated it to my will. But no! It had to be smart so I had no choice but to reason with it. You'd think that a monster from a world filled with nothing but humans would be equally stupid.

Although Azrael had to admit that the things humans on Earth made were most fascinating. The books that opened sideways and had moving pictures with sound inside them were the most interesting things he had ever seen. It felt like everything the humans knew was crammed inside it – didn't matter whether it was something dumb like a painting of a cat. If you could think of it, the humans had probably put it inside the magic book.

The little tablets that reacted to touch and acted similarly to the books were also fascinating. But by far the most interesting thing was the giant flat screen that acted similar to the projection crystal. Not because of the thing itself but rather the plays and shows humans had put inside it. Shows where people cooked, made houses, played games and even sought out relationships were all available at a touch of a button. You could watch it for a thousand years and there would still more things to see.

Azrael was surprised to realize how much he had actually missed those when he returned back to Doppelta. He had even tried to recreate something like it using the projection crystal. But they could only show what was happening somewhere else at the exact same time. It could not show anything from the past like human technology could.

I wonder if humans in the Overworld have something similar. I should go check that one day.

But the gnawing at his chest reminded him that there were more important matters to focus on. He grabbed a few potion bottles from his magic potion stores and stashed them in his pocket dimension.

Few health potions, few mana potions and the most powerful sleeping draught I have. I'm not sure what defenses the fallen have set up, but ideally, I'd like to remain unhidden and unnoticed. Otherwise, they might try harming the Princess. And if she gets hurt… well, I might as well just cut my own head off.

He felt a bit annoyed towards the fallen that they stooped so low as to use a child to further their plans. Azrael would have done so too, but the fact that they did it towards the exact princess that he is supposed to protect, irked him. No, it really, really pissed him off. He wanted to just burn them to cinders. But the situation was very delicate, so he had to be careful.

With the supplies secured, Azrael melted into the shadows and headed towards the rooms where the fallen were supposed to be staying. Their rooms were in the part of the castle meant specifically for guests and to ensure their safety, the entrance had a special ward to detect shadow walking.

Luckily, for him, the ward was supposed to alert the demon guards and not the guests themselves. So he slipped past it without a second thought. Guards at the entrance had already been informed that he'd be the one sneaking past, so they did not react even when the ward alerted them of his presence.

This is where the real difficulties begin.

Ahead, just where the rooms for the fallen were, stood a bunch of guards, protecting the area with incredible vigil. Their strength was their variety as among them were not only fallen, but also drow, duergar and even a vampire. Vampires were able to sense the approach of any living being, shadow form or not, so if Azrael wanted to get in, he had to neutralize him first.

Let's see if I can just put them all to sleep.

Azrael materialized in a hallway a good distance away from the door and retrieved the sleeping draught he had packed away earlier. He covered his nose and carefully opened the flask, keeping it far away from himself. Then he blew a strong breath on it, imbuing it with wind magic. It grew stronger and stronger, carrying the fumes from the sleeping draught across the hallway.

As soon as the impossible fumes reached the guards, they all went limp one by one and fell to the floor. Azrael smirked victoriously and approached the rooms.

That should keep them asleep for a while. Now, to deal with the people inside.

He once again blew onto the flask, forcing the sleeping fumes to travel down and below the small crack beneath the door. Unfortunately, the fumes were unable to pass through, blocked by some sort of ward.

Clever. Would have been boring if it was that easy.

Azrael hovered his hand over the door, trying to feel exactly what magical wards were placed upon it. He deduced that there were no less than ten different wards, meant to protect against both magical and physical attacks. Teleporting inside using shadows wouldn't work, but that wouldn't be an ideal approach anyway. 

Alright, if I can't get it, then I just have to force them to come out.

Azrael crouched down and touched one of the sleeping guards. He began to twist and turn until after approximately a minute of intense concentration he had been turned into a black sleeping chicken.

Time to wake up, buddy.

The white-haired demon dispelled the magic of the sleeping draught and the chicken jolted awake. He then hid in the nearby shadows and watched the bird freak out and begin clucking loudly and pecking at his fellow guards in an attempt to wake them up. A good while of desperate clucking passed until finally somebody from the inside deemed it worth opening the door.

"What in the name of the Fallen King is going on here?" Prime Minister Heinspiel roared as he swung the door open. Seeing a black, desperately clucking chicken peck at the sleeping guards instantly made the man go pale and he quickly shut the door. But that was just enough time for Azrael to sneak inside.

"Theobold, we are being–" the Prime Minister whimpered, his eyes darting from wall to wall in a futile attempt to find Azrael.

"Attacked. Yes, Father. It was only a matter of time," the younger fallen man said, not appearing even a little bit bothered by the fact. Instead, he was calmly sipping tea while his mother clutched onto her daughter in fear.

"Attacked?! This has gone too far! Endangering all of our lives and for what?" the mother yelled, panic seeping into her voice.

"For the future generations of The Fallen Kingdom, mother," Theobold said calmly and then reached his hand into the coat pocket, retrieving a small vial from within. "Is this what you have come here for, Azrael? Does your oath compel you to protect your master?"

How does this slimebag know about the oath? That is not something people from outside the Demon Castle should know. Is there a mole among us?

Azrael didn't reveal himself, instead remaining hidden underneath one of the wardrobes.

"Who are you talking to, Theobold?" the mother asked incredulously looking around the room.

"Mother you already forget that some high ranking demons possess the ability to move through shadows. One such demon is currently hidden in this room with us," the fallen explained and got up to his feet. "You have come here to retrieve this. So come and get it!"

Part of Azrael was tempted to do so, but he knew that one wrong move and Morrigan's life would be forfeit. As will his own. So he kept still and remained where he was. While it was not his style to wait, this was the time to play the waiting game. All he had to do was wait for Theobold to lose his vigil. One right moment and he could snatch the vial and turn these fallen scum into a skewer. 

"Oh, I see, you're hoping to wait things out. I'm afraid that is not going to do," Theobold said and clutched the vial into his palm. "If you do not appear in front of me right now, then the Princess is going to die."

The oath with Azrael flared to life, forcing him to materialize out of his shadow form and appear before the fallen. The mother and prime minister gasped, clutching onto each other and pulling themselves as far away from Azrael as possible. But Theobold, on the other hand, had a victorious grin on his face.

"See, that wasn't so hard," he purred and then walked towards Azrael, who stood stuck in place, doing his best not to show the pain the oath was inflicting upon him. "You leave now and go tell your King that if this kind of attack happens again, I'll kill the Princess on the spot. Understood?"

Through gritted teeth, Azrael nodded, wishing to just punch a hole in the asshole's chest. But the oath held him still, not allowing him to take any action that could harm Morrigan.

"Good. Now get lost," the fallen man's smile disappeared. Azrael had no choice but to leave empathy-handed. The oath still gnawed at his chest, and yet there was nothing he could do to ease the feeling. There was nothing he could do to save Morrigan.

Why are you so fucking useless, Azrael? You had one job – protect the Princess and you couldn't even do it. What would Lady Eirwen say if she knew that I couldn't protect her precious child? 

With a head hung low, Azrael returned back to the King and informed him of his failure. Alphegor wasn't angry at him, instead accepting his failure with a resigned sort of sigh. As if he had known from the start that he would fail. This made the feeling even worse. Azrael wished that the King would be angry at him.

What hurt the most was the expression on Princess Morrigan's face. She looked scared and at the same time guilty. The King had told her before that it wasn't her fault, but Morrigan had always been sensitive about such matters. Knowing her, she was already trying to come up with a solution for the situation and this solution would no doubt come at her detriment.The gnawing at Azrael's chest increased in intensity as if to confirm his suspicions.

No matter what happens, I have to protect Morrigan. Not just for my own survival, but also for Lady Eirwen.

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