An Old Familiar Face
Richard’s army was bogged down significantly after deciding to go into the depths of their fourth layer of the abyss. In only three days they had been attacked by a dozen armies, forcing Richard to kill almost thirty lesser lords and millions of regular demons. The night elves didn’t face significant losses, but the ammunition of the thunder cannons started depleting at an alarming rate that threatened to turn the guns into useless scraps of metal.
A weapon like the thunder cannon was amongst the best possible kind in the abyss; relying on force and explosive power alone, they weren’t bogged down by the changed laws. If these guns went out of use, the army would start sustaining significant casualties. However, Richard remained calm as he had his soldiers charge at an unchanging pace, completely ignoring the swarming demons as they bored a hole through any opposing formation. Any enemies that approached the side or rear were attacked by the druids in the centre of the force, keeping the gunners safe.
It was only a few hours before they were at the portal that Richard’s expression suddenly changed, “Greyhawk, take the army forward and head through the portal, don’t worry about me.”
Having felt a vague sense of danger himself, the mage knitted his brows, “Why?”
“The archlord is here, I’ll go stall.” His figure disappeared in an instant, flickering in the distance as it moved a kilometre every second. Greyhawk couldn’t see anything, but he didn’t dare relax as he sped up the army and ignored the ammo costs to move at maximum speed. The archlord of any abyssal layer was like a god in their divine kingdom, capable of dictating life and death.
……
Richard suddenly stopped mid-flight, moving back to dodge a pillar of magma that burst out from the ground. The earth started shaking furiously as a terrifying figure that was a hundred metres tall bounded over in the blink of an eye, every step forming a crater beneath.
This was the first archlord Richard had encountered on his expedition, and he seemed to be quite small compared to the rest of his kind. However, his menacing aura still sped up one’s heart, and the contortion of laws all around him made it clear that a single misstep could turn a legendary being into ash.
“A human? How dare you insects encroach upon my territory!” the demon bellowed, his voice ringing throughout the abyss. Even hundreds of kilometres away, Greyhawk was scared out of his wits and sped up. It was only Richard who seemed entirely unaffected, the necklace around him emitting a faint glow that rejected all laws of chaos within a hundred metres. The demon lord had imbued a soul attack within the shout, but the powerful wave that could numb even an epic warrior’s mind was simply bounced back to damage its own master.
There was no lack of historic examples of powerful figures that had been crushed by an archlord’s shout alone, but this demon recoiled in pain as his attack failed. His eyes went wide in surprise, “What is another archlord doing in my territory?”
Even though Richard looked like a human, that momentary contact had left the demon lord with the same aftershocks as having attacked any other archlord. Although the tiny being seemed no bigger than one’s finger, the aura was what mattered the most. Of course, not all archlords were made equal. Whenever two met, the usual practice was to fight before any discussion could take place.
On the other hand, Richard smiled for a brief moment as he determined his opponent’s name from the contact— Bermond Gauguin. Unlike humans, most demon lords had minute-long truenames of which they could reveal a small part. This part was a unique identifier that couldn’t be faked.
Seeing Richard remain silent, Bermond growled as foggy flames started emanating from his body, “Dizmason. I have not heard of that name, is this a challenge to my authority?”
Richard gave him a strange look, “What? No, I’m just passing by. My subordinates should be gone from here in a minute.”
The demon’s voice suddenly grew significantly louder, “You cannot just pass through my lands like that! I consider this an invasion, prepare yourself for battle!”
Richard’s expression turned even stranger as he sized up the demon lord in front of him. There were records in the Deepblue about him, and Sharon had also gloated about many things in the past. Just as Bermond was about to erupt, he suddenly responded, “I can accept a duel. Do you dare to give me half an hour of preparation?”
“Dare? The mighty Bermond is never afraid! I can give you a year!”
“Half an hour is enough,” Richard said indifferently.
……
“Let us begin, Dizmason,” Bermond shouted after the time was up.
“Very well,” Richard smiled, his figure flickering as he blinked kilometres away in an instant.
“What? You MAGGOT! STOP THERE!” An earth-shattering roar rang out from behind as the demon lord tried to lock space, but the two quickly grew far apart. He tried hard to give chase, but he could only watch as Richard disappeared into the passage a full minute before he would. The angered demon almost ran straight in anyway, but his instincts screamed that it would be suicide and he held back. These passages normally couldn’t hold an archlord, and even if he managed to get out the other side he would anger the archlord of the other layer. If things devolved to a three-way fight, capturing the human wouldn’t be a priority.
“YOU DESPICABLE INSECTS! YOU’RE ALL THE SAME, WHY DOESN’T ANYONE DARE TO FIGHT ME?!” Bermond yelled repeatedly, a bit of resignation in his voice. Even though he was confident in his own power, he didn’t want to fight other archlords in their home grounds. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time his lack of prowess in long-range attacks left him unable to deal with anyone who could move quickly.
……
“What happened?” Greyhawk asked as Richard flew through the portal. Even knowing that he was in the presence of the strongest human alive, he couldn’t believe that an archlord was defeated so easily.
Richard laughed, “Bermond? He’s easy to deal with, just run faster than he can chase. Honestly, not a big bar; you could do it too.”
Fortunately, the demon couldn’t hear these words. Knowing what he did about Bermond’s personality, Richard understood that the demon lord would risk everything and cross through multiple layers if he learnt of this evaluation.
……
Richard would end up remembering the encounter with Bermond Gauguin as a pleasant interlude. As he followed the elven path to Arbidis, his stress levels skyrocketed with every layer he passed. He ended up having to fight through enormous armies and even stall some archlords to allow his army to pass through the next seven to eight layers, and these ones were much more difficult to fool. Anyone could tell that something was amiss.
His first suspicion was that his plans had been leaked, but he quickly dismissed the possibility. Even if a group like the Scholars wanted to do something, the news about the expedition had been spread very recently and couldn’t possibly have made it into demon hands yet. In the end, it was Greyhawk who came up with an explanation— while millennia had passed since the elven expedition, that was only a nap to most archlords who were near-immortal. These armies had likely gathered as a reaction to the elven expedition, and it would be thousands of years longer until they were moved away.
Unfortunately, that meant they had a problem with no solution. Even with a multitude of enemies along the way, the elven road was at least a known path. There were maybe a handful of people on this expedition that could live long enough to find a way on their own. He eventually decided to simply get some time to rest whenever he passed through one portal before heading towards the next; there would be no shortcuts.
