I'll Give You Another Horn

Eaten! Sanderson shuddered. Would I be eaten? Just like an ordinary little magic beast? I've hunted plenty of magic beasts myself, and many of them ended up on the dinner table.

Although he had long prepared himself for it, hearing it from Stavago's own mouth was different.

Would I end up just like those prey animals? That doesn't seem so bad. At least it isn't an outcome I can't accept.

Then let him eat me. Sanderson let out a breath of relief. The demon Stavago was merciful enough—or perhaps simply uninterested. Had Sanderson encountered a more brutal demon, it might have tortured his soul until it was steeped in the flavor of agony before devouring it. At least falling into Stavago's hands wasn't so bad.

Sanderson felt he could accept this, and a great weight lifted from him. Back then, he had gained so much knowledge that he had pushed the question of what would happen to his soul to the back of his mind. Now, decades later, when he finally had to face that question, he realized he had no idea whatsoever what would become of him.

Sanderson nodded at Dean. His relaxed expression made Dean feel that his mentor had finally untied the knot in his heart.

And now Stavago was actually offering to make a concession. Dean and Sanderson exchanged a glance. Could there really be such a good deal?

"Hahaha, little one, I have a feeling that once you've grown to a certain level and your soul is strong enough, it will make a delicious feast—an exceedingly rare delicacy." Stavago licked the corner of his mouth. "For the sake of that feast, I am willing to make a concession. Until you lose your life, I will preserve the souls of four generations. I intend to eat them together with your soul."

"All right, my time is almost up. If you have any questions, ask them quickly." Stavago looked at Dean, seeming more pleased the longer he studied him.

"I have another question. By infinite knowledge, do you mean everything you know? Will I know it all once I sign the contract?" Dean asked.

"No, no, no, little one. Only once you reach or approach certain levels can you learn the knowledge pertaining to those levels." Stavago shrugged. "Besides, some of this knowledge cannot be passed on to others. It belongs exclusively to us. Of course, there won't be much of that."

Stavago spoke as though this were only natural. What neither Dean nor Sanderson noticed, however, was that the demon's little shadow seemed to have weakened a fraction. Although that weakening was extraordinarily slight, it was undeniably there.

In the sky, the dark clouds that Stavago had dispersed with a single grunt seemed to be gathering again. Wisps of dark cloud converged from every direction above Blue Town.

More precisely, they gathered directly above the small bamboo grove behind Sanderson's courtyard.

Of course, Blue Town was only a small town, with hardly any professionals above level three, so no one noticed anything unusual about the dark clouds overhead. In fact, few people even saw the clouds gathering.

A few idle folk with nothing to do did happen to look up and see the dark clouds, then hurried home to tell their families to bring in the clothes they had hung out that morning.

"Little one, can we sign the contract now? You should know that the patience of the great Lord Stavago is very limited!" The little shadow put on a fierce, fiendish expression, though Dean found it rather comical.

Sanderson, of course, was the exception. Having spent most of his life bound by a contract with a demon, he could clearly sense Stavago's impatience.

"There's still—there's just one last question," Dean said hurriedly.

Stavago's fiendish expression froze. Somewhat speechless, he said to Dean, "You really do have the nerve to set conditions for me."

"The last one. I swear by the Light God, this is absolutely my last question," Dean said solemnly, though his little face was slightly flushed.

"Don't bring up the Light God to me. He's a dictator. Besides, you're a mage. What does your oath have to do with the Light God—not even a copper coin's worth!" Stavago exhaled, dismissing Dean's oath.

"All right, enough nonsense. Ask your last question, then decide immediately whether you're signing the contract. Someone as important as me has no time to waste chatting with a little ant like you." Stavago was growing irritable.

Only moments ago, he had been chatting pleasantly with Sanderson and Dean in a somewhat gentlemanly manner. Now, however, the demon's true face was beginning to show. Naturally, Stavago did not mind revealing his nature before Dean at all, because he was almost out of time.

"Honored great demon Stavago, I'd like to ask how many more years you can live, so I can work out how to live that long." Dean was serious, utterly serious, as he spoke to Stavago.

"Over a thousand years. There, now you know. Hurry up and sign the contract. Being able to make a deal with the great demon Stavago is a wish countless people can only dream of fulfilling. What are you still hesitating over?" With that, Stavago looked at Sanderson.

Sanderson was already prepared. He took a roll of parchment out of his ring.

A storage ring! For a moment, Dean's attention was captured by the storage ring on Sanderson's hand. Crafting storage items required exceptionally specialized magic, yet his mentor actually owned a storage ring.

"Stop staring. I have the magic for making storage items. Come look at the contract!" As he spoke, Stavago pointed at the parchment. In an instant, dark red flames rose from it, then formed a passage of text.

These were the terms of the contract. Dean had no idea why he could actually understand every condition written on it.

"This is hellish soul script. It is projected directly into the contracting party's soul. It is also the most powerful form of soul contract for all living creatures," Sanderson told Dean. However, Sanderson himself knew little about this script, only these superficial details.

Of course, even with the strength he had once possessed at the peak of a level-five grand mage, Sanderson had not understood the soul script commonly used by abyssal demons.

Dean was tempted because of the magic Stavago had mentioned for crafting storage items. Once he learned that magic, he would soon have more gold coins than he could count.

Even the poorest-quality, cheapest storage item was worth over a thousand gold coins, and there was never any worry about finding a buyer.

"Let me think a little longer. This contract..." Dean still felt a trace of hesitation. An instinct deep within his soul was warning him that this contract was dangerous.

"A delicious soul. For the sake of your delicious soul, how about I give you another gift? A gift that mages dream of..." Stavago could hardly wait any longer.

Time waited for no one, and certainly not for demons. The dark clouds overhead were growing ever denser, and most people had noticed them by now, though everyone assumed they were rain clouds.

(End of chapter)