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“Well… I’m either strong enough to destroy all of you with my Light, in which case I’m incredibly powerful and valuable like Azaroth says… or I couldn’t hurt you if I tried. If that’s true, then I’m worth nothing. I can’t be both. If I had the power to destroy you all, wouldn’t I have done that already?”
The cart I was being moved on suddenly stopped. “It’s got a point!” hissed Skrix. “It hurt us, but it didn’t kill us. What if it’s worth nothing?”
“What if we get laughed out of the city for bringing them a worthless trinket?” asked Gharol.
“Light or no Light,” said Azaroth, “This creature will still be entertaining to watch in the arenas. It will fight for its life. It will fight like no demon ever could. That alone will be worth a prize fit for an Overlord.”
“And will you share those prizes with us?” asked Skrix. “Or will you keep them all for yourself and only throw us the scraps?”
“If you continue to doubt me, you’ll get nothing. Is that understood?”
It’s working, I thought. If there was one thing I could count on when it came to demons; they were all opportunists, and any loyalty they had towards each other was purely based on fear and control. Azaroth was clearly their leader, but if he couldn’t control them then they were likely to turn on him. If they could be made to turn on him, then maybe I had a shot at getting out of this.
All I had to do was keep them talking.
“Wait,” Gharol said suddenly. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asked Skrix.
“That. Listen.”
I couldn’t hear anything. I certainly couldn’t hear whatever had caught this demon’s attention.
“You can barely hear anything at the best of times, Gharol,” said Azaroth. “Those metal plates around your ears do that sense a disservice.”
“I’m telling you, I heard something.”
“Like what?” asked Skrix. “Hang on—over there!”
I heard the ringing of blades, of steel being drawn. “The rebels have found us,” came a fourth voice that sounded almost like a whisper on the wind. Was that the demon who had knocked me out? Okaras.
“Take your positions!” barked Azaroth. “Ready your weapons.”
“I saw one!” Yelled Skrix. “Wait, no, where’d they go?!”
“It sounds like they’re all around us!” roared Gharol.
“Hold your positions,” Azaroth demanded, “And close your ranks!”
It sounded like they were all shuffling around me. I heard the scraping of boots on rough ground, the rush of wind, and a faint whispering somewhere nearby. Gharol still couldn’t see whatever Skrix had seen, and no one could hear what he was hearing. It was chaos, and I was still tied up and not going anywhere.
The rebels have found us.
Rebels?
What rebels?
“There, over the rocks!” yelled Skrix. There was a shout, a thud, and then the clashing of blades. I heard grunting, yelling, and shuffling.
Some kind of battle was clearly unfolding around me, and I couldn’t see or do anything about it. I tried to struggle out of my bindings, but it was no use. At one point, someone toppled over my cart, knocking it onto its side.
I fell to the floor with a thud, and while I still couldn’t move or get out of my bindings, I thought I may have been able to start lifting the bag I had over my head by scraping the side of my face against the ground. It was hard and uncomfortable work, but it was working.
All the while I was hearing yelling, grunting, and the metal ring of blades. Lightning crackled, but it didn’t seem to come from above—it sounded like it was right near my head, and it brought with it an acrid scent that assaulted my nostrils.
It was hard to concentrate on what I was doing with the constant threat of injury looming over me, but I worked at the bag over my head until I managed to get it up and over my nose, allowing me to just about catch a glimpse of the combat if I angled my head just right.
Whoever had attacked Azaroth and the others hadn’t identified themselves, they hadn’t made demands, and they weren’t taking this lightly. They were armed, motivated, and it looked to me like there were more of them than there were of the demons who had initially captured me.
