Bane Godspawn had been wondering where, exactly, he had gone wrong.
What did I do wrong?
Why else would I have suffered such a crushing defeat?
How did things turn out like this?
Brilliant fireworks burst before Mannacorn's eyes. Bane watched the night sky, illuminated by flames and fireworks, without expression. Within his consciousness, the great devil Bael was still bargaining with him.
Bael wanted to collect 9,999 souls, and to that end, he had dispatched the armies under the Eight Demon Generals. Bane Godspawn had promised that the devil army would collect 9,999 souls in Suzail, though he did not trust devils. He even regarded them as formidable enemies on his path to godhood. (If a lawful evil individual did not explicitly worship a particular god, their soul might fall into Baator.)
But after rationally weighing his circumstances, Bane Godspawn had still accepted Bael's proposal, though he questioned whether Bael truly was the lord of Hell's first layer-according to his intelligence, its current ruler was not Bael, but a savage, bloodthirsty fallen angel.
He had decided to give Bael a chance to cooperate with him. He could not stomach the fact that his father's holy ground was now controlled by that complete fucking idiot, the Dark Sun, and had become Cyric's snake pit.
Someone had urged him to flee. In fact, just as he always did, Bane Godspawn had planned an escape route before acting. His subordinates had prepared a secret passage leading outside the city, where he could board a swift ship that would carry him to Mulhorand in short order. There, he would have a new identity, and Mulhorand's paladins would prevent Tyr's paladins from arresting him. In Mulhorand, all property theoretically belonged to the Mulhorandi pantheon. Anyone who disliked it could leave.
Mannacorn had refused.
He