Sorena's Plan

The gates of the dream opened to Yifomiet once more.

This time, he was at Azure Cloud Summit.

He had almost forgotten this was a dream.

Yifomiet looked down. Beneath the swirling white clouds stood a bare rocky mountain. At its summit was a broad hexagonal marble altar, with a stone pillar carved with a bull's-head symbol standing at each of its six corners.

At the center of the altar stood a massive statue. It had a pair of broad, long horns, a leopard's fangs, a serpent's tail, and four arms.

Before the statue lay many fresh, bloody human heads. Three living humans prostrated themselves before it, muttering prayers.

This was clearly the Prime Material Plane.

For some reason, he felt a trace of nervousness.

"Go on." Sorena nudged him from beside him.

"Will this really work?" he heard himself say.

"You're scared? Don't be scared. Hehehe!"

Sorena tickled the tip of his nose with a feather. "All you have to do is jump down and tell them: Hi! I'm Yifomiet, Hand of Destruction. The god you summoned is here! I'm very satisfied with your offerings, so keep it up. That's all. These sheltered people will be shocked, utterly shocked. Then they'll spread word of your divine might everywhere! So easy."

Yifomiet, Hand of Destruction.

He really was not used to the title Sorena had given him.

She said that gathering the power of faith could make him stronger.

"I don't think there's any need to get stronger. Things are fine as they are." He remembered saying that.

"Hey! Hey! Being stronger means being better. Think about it. If only our little tricks can fool other people, wouldn't that be fun? Oh, right, do you want to go back to hell and play at being a duke or something?"

"I want to go back. But..."

"Then that settles it! We need to become stronger, stronger. Hehehe!"

He had no choice but to agree with Sorena. Sorena had to be right. She was always right.

Yifomiet's thoughts returned to Azure Cloud Summit.

Obediently, he jumped down, but he accidentally crushed all three prostrating human worshippers to death.

"Look at you go, Asmodeus!" Sorena doubled over with laughter.

Everything blurred again.

The gates of the dream closed once more.

Then they opened again.

This time, he sat properly in a ceremonial hall.

He sat upon a huge black stone chair that seemed to have been made specifically for him.

The layout of the ceremonial hall was surprisingly to his taste. The three-tiered stepped altar looked solemn and formal, reminding him of those "real things" he had seen in Chaos Hell.

Twelve humans of varied appearances prostrated themselves before him. Each wore a bone helmet engraved with a bull's-head symbol, their bodies painted crimson, unknown leather tied around their waists. Their faces, palms, and knees pressed against the floor.

"I am Yifomiet, Hand of Destruction. In the name of destruction, state your final prayer."

He heard himself speak. His voice was much deeper than in the previous dreams.

The final prayer.

Sorena had said this was part of the grand plan, an important step toward returning to Chaos Hell and becoming dukes, or returning to the First World and ascending as ancestors.

The wills of all Yifomiet's followers would gather into a vast collective, represented by the twelve elders, to make one ultimate prayer.

He had to fulfill that request.

Then he could change... what was it called again...

Right, final rank.

He did not understand it. But Sorena knew everything. She always knew everything.

His followers repeatedly kowtowed until their foreheads bled.

"Lord of Destruction. Wrath of the world. The right hand that carries out endless ruin."

"Father of destruction, master of rebuke, murder, and madness."

"Please feast freely upon my sins and pierce my soul."

The twelve removed the bones from their heads, stretched their hands straight before them, and scraped grayish-white symbols into the ground.

"We shatter the bones of our enemies... we shatter the bones of our closest kin... like stiff statues once raised, they shall shatter before you."

"When rampant chaos reaches its peak, when dissolution becomes the final form of definition..."

They rose upright.

"Let them know your glory."

"In the name of destruction, please accept our final prayer!"

There were actually many unnecessary and inaccurate words in this prayer. Aside from the last sentence.

In fact, they only needed to recite that last sentence.

But Yifomiet saw no need to remind them.

The air began to tremble.

The voices of the twelve elders suddenly seemed to be squeezed together by something, becoming a sticky whole.

"We pray for irreparable destruction...

A sea of fire at the northernmost lighthouse.

An icy tide in the Infinite Lowlands.

The withering of Moonless Quiet.

And the destruction of the indestructible city..."

Strangely, though they spoke obscure and incomprehensible words, Yifomiet clearly understood what they meant.

By now, he must have been on the Prime Material Plane for some time.

The lighthouse in the far north was a small town called Kannaya, where the Stillnight Knights were stationed.

The Infinite Lowlands were a vast expanse of swampy wetlands in the center of the western continent of the Prime Material Plane, home to nearly every famous arcane mage.

Moonless Quiet was druid territory.

And the indestructible city—naturally, it was the royal capital of the Vidoka Kingdom where they were now, the holy city of Matim.

The followers' final prayer was for those four most threatening hostile forces to vanish into ash.

"I grant your request," he said.

As Sorena had said, he had to grant it.

For the change in final rank, to truly become the great demon known as Yifomiet.

The followers collapsed haphazardly onto the ground. Their spiritual power had been utterly exhausted.

Even so, they wept with gratitude.

Yifomiet raised a hand.

He vanished from the black stone divine throne.

This dream vanished before his eyes.

It was replaced by a pale blue, writhing glow.

Until the next dream appeared.

This dream...

A gale howled past Yifomiet's ears.

He flew over the smoking ruins of Matim.

The ruins of towers that had once reached the clouds, magnificent palaces, exquisite fountains, gardens, and plazas.

He felt his heart pounding. A demon's heart should not pound like this.

He was about to tell Sorena this wonderful news. Truly good news.

"Sorena. I succeeded. I completed the last one. I'm about to possess the power of the Hand of Destruction they prayed for. I can become stronger. No one will ever be able to fool us again. We'll fool them."

That was what he would say, and then he would hear Sorena laugh and say—

Something like, "You're amazing, Asmodeus."

"Good boy, good boy, Asmodeus."

"We can finally leave this place, Asmodeus. Where are we going? Funny you should ask, I already have an idea..."

What she said did not matter.

What mattered was that she would laugh with all her heart.

As he thought this, a volcano appeared beneath Yifomiet's feet.

It was the nest they had painstakingly maintained on the Prime Material Plane for many years.

He deftly slipped into a hidden crevice. With a gentle turn, a deep cavern stretching beyond sight unfolded before him.

He felt his heart pounding.

Then he saw—

Harpies waiting for him in the depths of the cave.

Not one, but many.

Hearing him, the creatures turned their heads in unison and stared at him.

His gaze swept over their faces, but he did not find the one who belonged to him.

The harpies were unnaturally silent.

Harpies were never this silent.

More than a dozen narrow eyes watched him meaningfully.

"Where is Sorena?" he finally could not help asking.

"Dead."

A khaki-colored harpy spoke carelessly—he had seen her before. She was a harpy elder.

The heart that had been pounding just moments ago stopped.

"She went to Flame Cliff in hell to steal your name. That prank was really good... we really should give her an award."

Another harpy cut in, then seemed to recall something.

"Oh, I forgot. She can't get that award. She's dead."

As though they had arranged it beforehand, all the harpies burst into loud laughter at once.