It took around ten seconds for Simon to approach. In that time, he covertly examined the cavern with Identify, searching for anything that could give him an edge.

  All he found of note were hundreds of Warding Orbs surrounding the Sealed Demon's cage of light. Each was placed on the cage's border, and each had merely one year remaining before its energy was depleted – same as the Orbs guarding Caelryn Cave's entrance.

  Crucial information, to be sure...but probably not something he should tell the Demon. Either it was aware of the time limit on its prison, or it wasn't, and thus had no idea of how much longer it would be trapped. If so, better to say nothing and leave it ignorant and potentially desperate.

  Which unfortunately left Simon with little to work with. While knowledge of the Orbs' inevitable failure might become imperative in the future, it wouldn't be particularly useful during the negotiations to come.

  I'll just have to improvise.

  Simon made it halfway across the cavern, then stopped. Any nearer and the heat radiating from the Demon's inferno would've caused him to sweat buckets.

  Its overwhelming aura of power was close to doing that already. If the Sanctuary Tree had been an entity of rest and repose, then this Demon was the opposite. Oppressive, dominating, and pitiless. Anyone entering this cavern wouldn't have needed Identify to realize that they had stumbled across the lair of a merciless tyrant.

  Empty posturing. Nothing you haven't seen before.

  Simon forcefully shrugged off the aura's effect. With a casual motion, he sat down and produced a cracked cup from his Inventory – spare junk that he'd picked up from Ardyn's caravan. "To first meetings and new beginnings," he called out, raising his cup in a toast.

  The Demon's flames seemed to freeze momentarily. Low laughter emanated from within its cage, triggering Simon's flight-or-flight response as if a gun was pointed directly at his forehead.

  "To first meetings and new beginnings," echoed a distorted, sonorous voice. A tendril of fire stretched forward, taking on the silhouette of a hand holding an ornate goblet.

  Grinning, Simon 'clinked' his cup against the air, then stowed it back in Inventory. "You want to kick off the proceedings?" he offered. "I'm sure you've got a lot you want to say."

  The inferno blazed with frustrated mirth. "Quite the understatement there. After a century or two of confinement, you start losing hope of ever again conversing with another living creature. No matter what comes of this talk of ours, I am truly grateful for your presence here."

  It didn't appear to be lying. That still didn't mean it wasn't manipulating Simon so that he viewed the Demon in a favorable light. The best lies were told through truth.

  He also detected an undercurrent of anguish to its tone that it couldn't fully hide. The Demon was in pain. Constant, neverending pain. Simon would've bet good money on the cage of Warding Orbs being the cause.

  "Before we proceed – I must address a possible concern of yours. This is likely your first encounter with a Demon, which means your thoughts are rife with misinformation and paranoia. The weightiness of our aura can feel...stifling. However, rest assured that the untoward rumors of my kind have been greatly exaggerated."

  The flames lowered in temperature by just a few degrees, as if trying to appear benign while still projecting an intimidating atmosphere. "For example, do not conflate Demons with the feral, mindless Fell Beasts you have witnessed thus far. To do so would be the highest of insults. You may as well compare humans with the primeval apes of the Lost Frontier."

  It opted for a vaguely encouraging tone. "And you needn't worry about unwittingly entering into a Contract. It shall be very, very apparent when one is presented to you. The magic only becomes binding when both parties willingly agree to its terms. Lastly, whether or not you accept my Contract will be wholly your decision."

  Based on the Demon's inflection, Simon could tell that 'Contract' was being spoken with a capital 'c'. There was powerful meaning contained in that word.

  A magical binding contract wasn't a concept he was unfamiliar with. He could guess at the broad strokes and implications. Until the Demon explained it in greater detail, though, anything else he imagined would be no more than conjecture.

  Whole conversation is going to be like this, Simon mused. Lots of terms being thrown around that I'll have to figure out through context clues.

  It wasn't all bad. He'd been wanting someone to tell him more about Valtia. Would make negotiating slightly more difficult, but, well...

  Fake it 'till you make it.

  "Thanks for the assurance," Simon replied, his mouth spreading into a genial smile. "That's how I like to do things. Fair and equitable on both sides."

  "I think I like you already. You're definitely more personable than the last humans who graced my presence, at any rate."

  For a Level 89 Demon of Ruination, a terrifying conflagration of vast power, who had presumably run amok during his heydey...its manner of speaking seemed awfully informal. Was that typical of people here, or was the creature altering its verbiage in order to appeal to a human's sensibilities?

  With a hint of amusement, Simon realized that this was going to set his baseline for talking to denizens of Valtia. Whoever he met next would have big shoes to fill.

  "A little politeness goes a long way. Why start off a conversation with insults or disrespect?" Simon beamed. "When you insult someone, it should be after you get to know them. Then it'll be laser-targeted. It'll hurt."

  The Demon 'nodded', its flames gyrating up and down. "Although certainly enjoyable, grinding someone underfoot using raw power is...rote. Perfunctory. Annihilating their existence with but a single sentence? That requires planning, preparation, and panache. Agonizing truths are the implements wielded by those of wit and refinement."

  Its flames shaped into an arm, which it swept across an approximation of its chest. "Before I forget – my congratulations on making it to the bottom of this godforsaken cave. Your arrival here is most serendipitous."

  Simon's mouth twitched. Serendipitous? he thought. Not really. Nothing about this meeting was an accident. You were responsible for half of it.

  The gods of Evil were responsible for the rest.

  It wasn't a coincidence that Simon had transmigrated into a member of Ardyn's doomed caravan. The Evil gods' intentions had primarily been to have him inherit the power of a weakling rather than a champion...but they could've picked any random schlub who'd recently croaked for that.

  Instead, they chose someone who had perished suspiciously close to Caelryn Cave. Yes, Simon was then likely to die at Stuart's fangs, but if he lived? Well, he would probably follow the road. Find the cave. Be affected by the Demon's subconscious persuasion.

  Reach the bottom.

  The gods of Evil had wanted this meeting. So did the Demon. Simon was being manipulated by not one, but two malicious higher powers.

  Defying their expectations would be immensely gratifying.

  "Serendipitous?" Simon tilted his head. "Was I wrong about your subtle mind magic, then?"

  The inferno flared with surprise – before settling into a sort of smug satisfaction. "How did you like it? Few can exercise control of mana to that degree of distance and power, especially when weakened as I am now. The subconscious suggestion within this cave isn't even my proudest feat. I've lured many an adventurer by transmitting dreams of plunder and riches to the humans at nearby settlements."

  Its excitement simmered. "But...you knew it was a lie? And you ventured here nonetheless."

  "Yup."

  Uproarious laughter resounded from the demonic flames. "I shall amend a previous statement – I *know* I like you."

  "Same to you," Simon affirmed. Which wouldn't change his plans, but it seemed a likable enough fellow...aside from all the adventurers it had indirectly murdered. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

  "Someone who once controlled half the Severed Isles of Valtia." The Demon's voice filled with interest. "Tell me. Do any of these names sound familiar to you? Kirkelas the Conqueror? Ragnoth the Everlasting Flame? Or perhaps simply 'The Demon of Ruination'?"

  After a brief moment of consideration, Simon decided that this talk would go more smoothly if he admitted ignorance about certain topics. Based on the Demon's tone, it wasn't expecting much here. "Can't say I've heard of those names."

  "Of course." The flames intensified with heat and fury. "May the Ancient One take Duke Helmund and his festering, maggot-ridden soul. He must have suppressed any knowledge of me after my sealing. Several generations later, and I am no more spoken of than a common footpad."

  It sighed. "So be it. Does Helmund still rule the Severed Isles?"

  Simon didn't have a clue, but this time the Demon did seem to be expecting confirmation, even though this Duke Helmund had apparently sealed him centuries ago. "Yeah, he's still alive. Hasn't kicked the bucket just yet."

  He scratched his chin, feigning thought. "Gotta say – it's odd to hear that the Duke was responsible for sealing you. Don't nobles usually take any chance they can get to bolster their reputation? Why would he erase his part in a tale of heroism?"

  "Heroism, you say." The inferno waved from side to side, as if shaking its head. "Is it truly heroism if your only goal is to eliminate your competitors? Helmund has no love for his subjects – or anyone but himself. The Severed Isles would be in a better state if I had remained as a balancing act to his tyranny."

  "I'm sure you were a just, magnanimous ruler," Simon remarked, with a dry deadpan.

  "Not in the slightest. But I've caught glimpses of the world outside these cavern walls, and I would *never* have let the Severed Isles degrade so harshly. There is no point in reigning over a desiccated graveyard."

  The Demon's voice took on a passionate edge. "This cannot stand. Helmund must be brought to heel – and soon, before he can drain these lands even further. If you release me from this prison, then I swear I shall do everything in my power to see the Duke laid low and the Severed Isles restored to their former liveliness. We can establish a Contract if you require that kind of guarantee."

  Simon placed his chin on his hands and lifted a single eyebrow. "Come on now. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?

  The inferno chuckled. "No, but it was worth the attempt. You would be shocked at how many humans leap at the first opportunity to partake in impetuous heroics."

  "...I may be familiar with the concept," Simon replied, swallowing an innocent whistle before it could escape his throat.

  Without warning, the Demon drew itself up, magnifying its flames so that they reached the ceiling of its cage. "Human. What is your name?"

  Simon leisurely stood up. He didn't bother with theatrics, opting to just be himself. "Simon."

  "Surname?"

  "Cobblestone," he answered, adopting Ardyn's last name. It was Valtia-approved and sounded suitably nonthreatening, which would hopefully make the Demon underestimate him.

  "Well met, Simon Cobblestone." The flames swirled and churned like an oven of anticipation. When the Demon spoke next, its voice echoed with immeasurable gravitas. "Then I ask you this, oh strange human: What do you desire most?"

  He had to admit – the demonic fireworks display was pretty neat. To a Valtian native with medieval sensibilities, it would've probably been the most awe-inspiring sight they'd ever witnessed.

  But to Simon, who'd grown up on high-budget Hollywood CGI-fests...he knew when something was just smoke and mirrors. Cool smoke and mirrors, yet smoke and mirrors nonetheless.

  It would take more than this to impress him.

  "I'll answer your question with one of mine," Simon replied. "What do you think I desire most?"

  The Demon's flames subsided by a hair. "You want me to choose your boon for you?"

  "Nah – just want to hear what your guess would be. Indulge my curiosity."

  He didn't actually care what the Demon thought, but responding nonchalantly to its bravado gave the creature pause. It had evidently wanted to cow him into submission, or at least make him nervous enough to offer a quick, poorly-considered deal. Instead, Simon had reminded it of one very important detail.

  As long as the Demon stayed locked within its cage of light, it wasn't the one with leverage here.

  "...A human such as you?" The inferno leaned forward, scrutinizing him. "Your type only wants one thing: Power. Power to influence the world. Power to bend others to your will. Power to mold your destiny."

  Simon clapped. "Not bad. You've met people like me throughout the years?"

  "Similar. Albeit none that have stared me in the eyes without flinching."

  "What eyes?"

  The Demon hesitated. After a few seconds, two blood-red shapes appeared in the center of its flames. Something about them provoked an instinctual fear response in Simon's hindbrain – none of which he let show on his face.

  "And yet you still don't flinch. Strange."

  Sorry, Simon thought, but the Red-Eyed Fell Beast was scarier than you. "I'll be forthright with my intentions. I want multiple boons. The first is power, just like you said."

  He put on a beatific smile. "One-third of it."

  "A...third?" The inferno shrank, its voice replete with astonishment. "A third of what? Of ME?"

  "Correct." Simon kept his tone neutral. "I can't just ask 'for power'. Too vague. You could've given me a drop of it and nothing more. One-third is nice and clear."

  He perked up, as if just realizing something. "Oh, and I'm not interested in getting loophole'd by obtuse demon logic. You'll give me your power in a way that doesn't cause harm. If there are any complications with the transfer, you'll assist me, beneficially, to the absolute best of your ability. And you're giving it to me before I free you."

  The Demon's aura pulsed with a wave of pure outrage. "Do you have any idea the magnitude of what you ask for?"

  Simon nodded. "Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked for it." He shrugged. "You'd still be stronger than me, so it's not like I'm trying to usurp you."

  For once, the Demon was speechless.

  "That's Boon #1." Simon held up one finger – and then a second. "Boon #2 is...well, less a boon and more of a stipulation. You won't harm me, directly or indirectly, physically or mentally, in any way, ever. That includes taking actions that would weaken me. Gaining one-third of your power would be pointless if you murder me and steal it back right away."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "That all but would shackle me to your will," the Demon hissed.

  "Then we'll add another stipulation stating that Boon #2 is annulled if I conspire against you, or if I purposefully cause you physical harm. That more fair?"

  "To an extent – wait, no, you can't–"

  "Boon #3." Simon raised another finger. "I'll be your second-in-command when you start conquering again. It'll be a permanent position. Not interested in carving out my own territory; I'd prefer to hitch myself to the winning horse."

  His smile morphed from cordial to vicious. "Trust me. You'll love having me as an ally."

  The flames glared at him with muted disbelief. "No self-respecting Demon would remotely entertain a Contract so lopsided."

  "That's where you're wrong. It isn't lopsided at all. Because in return?"

  His voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper, like he was imparting a grand secret. "You'll go free."

  Simon gestured around at the empty cavern. "As someone who's been stuck here for hundreds of years...do you really want to go back to that? Losing track of time until the decades blend together? Counting cracks in the wall to alleviate your ennui? Endlessly hoping and praying that a human will find you? The boredom, the isolation–"

  "ENOUGH!"

  Simon fought to retain his balance as the inferno exploded, sending a hot wave of air gusting through the room. If he had been standing next to the demon at the time, he would've been crispy-fried in an instant.

  "YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU TRIFLE WITH, HUMAN!" The Demon's voice was like a steel fist beating at Simon's eardrums. "DO YOU BELIEVE THAT I AM POWERLESS? THAT I CANNOT HARM YOU AS I AM?"

  A magnificent show of force. Unfortunately for the Demon, the effect was ruined by the Warding Orbs forming its cage. They still hadn't budged an inch, and they still didn't have a scratch on them.

  Even now, this was merely posturing.

  "You can probably hurt me." With effort, Simon pushed his lips up into another smile. "But there's a cost, right? Something you aren't willing to pay. Wouldn't have bothered with proposing a Contract otherwise."

  With a disappointed sigh, his smile vanished. "If my offer isn't to your liking, though..."

  He peered back at the cavern entrance, as if debating whether or not to leave right then and there.

  The Demon was too late to stifle a horrified gasp.

  Simon didn't even attempt to hide his smirk. He faced the inferno once more, spreading his arms wide with the brash audacity of a con artist who knew they were being unfair, knew that their scam was blatantly transparent – and knew that they'd won anyway.

  "Three boons for your freedom. What's it gonna be?"

  There was a long pause.

  Eventually, the flames let out a lengthy, drawn-out groan. "Simon Cobblestone...are you a Demon in disguise?"

  "Not since the last time I checked. Why do you ask?"

  "Because this bargain is fitting of one."

  The transmigrator took a bow. "Thanks for the compliment."

  A spike of begrudging respect flared up. The Demon may have hated him in this moment, but game recognized game.

  Simon was about to continue speaking when a swell of demonic magic froze his throat shut. Frenzied muttering swirled at the edges of his hearing as mana concentrated near the Demon.

  One-by-one, blackened words began to appear mid-air, slowly, as if scrawled by an unsteady hand.

  1. The Demon forging this Contract is known as Kirkelas the Conqueror, also known as Ragnoth the Everlasting Flame, also known as The Demon of Ruination. The human Contractee is known as Simon Cobblestone. Kirkelas is the Demon currently residing in a prison of sacred mana, within Simon's eyesight. Simon Cobblestone is the human standing before Kirkelas. There is no deception of identity on the part of either signer.

  2. Kirkelas will permanently bequeath one-third of his mana to Simon Cobblestone. This will be done so in a way that does not harm Simon Cobblestone, and shall increase his power accordingly. If there are complications with the mana transfer, Kirkelas will beneficially assist to the absolute best of his abilities.

  3. Additionally, Kirkelas the Conqueror will never harm Simon Cobblestone, directly or indirectly, physically or mentally, in any way. That includes taking actions that would weaken Simon Cobblestone.

  4. As an addendum, the previous stipulation is voided if Simon Cobblestone conspires against Kirkelas the Conqueror or purposefully causes him physical harm.

  5. Additionally, Kirkelas the Conqueror will also appoint Simon Cobblestone to a position as his second-in-command. This position is permanent.

  6. In exchange, Simon will fully free Kirkelas from his prison of sacred mana.

  "There." The Demon – Kirkelas – was breathing heavily, sounding exhausted. "A Contract. Do you...do you accept?"

  Simon betrayed no emotion as he nodded. "Yes. I do. Should I sign in blood, or–"

  "Your agreement is sufficient." Kirkelas composed himself. "Then I also–"

  He stopped.

  "One moment." Demonic mana flared again. When Kirkelas was finished, a single word had been appended to the end of the Contract.

  6. In exchange, Simon will fully free Kirkelas from his prison of sacred mana immediately.

  "Fair and equitable. Just as you like."

  Simon's face remained impassive – in contrast to the whirlwind of frustration brewing inside his mind.

  I was so close.

  When entering Caelryn Cave, he'd known that he needed to acquire Power. It was just under Food and Shelter in terms of significance. Thus, upon discovering a monstrously strong Demon in a position of vulnerability, Simon had pondered:

  How could he defraud the creature for everything it was worth?

  His plan had been a blend of deduction and improvisation. He determined that the Demon would likely be desperate to bargain for its freedom. He determined that its binding magical Contracts could be used to his advantage. He determined that asking for one-third of its power would be the most he could push for while still closing the deal.

  Most importantly, he determined that it wasn't at the top of its game. A supreme, ancient Demon with lifetimes of experience would've normally taken him for a ride when it came to negotiating. But after centuries of imprisonment? Weakened by hundreds of Warding Orbs that inflicted perpetual suffering?

  He had hoped that he could bully it into a bad Contract before it realized the fatal loophole therein.

  Simon never promised that he would free the Demon right away. The plan had been to get around to it...eventually. Who's to say when? Their Contract certainly didn't.

  The best lies were told through truth.

  If he kept procrastinating, he could've gone a whole year without needing to fulfill his side of the deal. Kirkelas would've been forced to transfer one-third of its mana – yet receive nothing in return. Using its stolen power, Simon would have easily established his position in Valtian society, granting himself more opportunities to Level up.

  And when he was strong enough, before the Warding Orbs ran out of juice...he would've returned and shanked the Demon while it was still trapped and weakened.

  Except that Kirkelas had spotted the problem mere moments away from sealing his own fate.

  So painfully close.

  The Demon drew itself up. "Do you accept this revised Contract?"

  "No."

  "Then I also – WHAT?"

  Simon turned around and started walking away. "No deal." He lazily waved his hand once. "Bye."

  Actually freeing Kirkelas had never been in the cards. He wasn't going to release a creature literally called 'the Demon of Ruination'. That sort of behavior was for people who aspired to no better than second-in-command to a bloodthirsty tyrant.

  Which had been a lie as well, naturally. Simon would never settle for being an underling. He had standards.

  There was still the matter of reversing Valtia's evident decline. But even if Kirkelas was being completely truthful and intended to fight against the despotic Duke Helmund, maybe saving the Severed Isles in the process...

  Freeing it was what the gods of Evil had wanted Simon to do.

  That was reason enough not to.

  Shame that this trip ended up mostly being a waste of time, but it was worth rolling the dice on. As Kirkelas shouted at him, Simon's mood brightened. At least I picked up some scrap metal from the skeleton crew. Consolation prize! Plan B is still doable – sell the scrap for pocket change, work my way up the social ladder. Will take longer than I wanted, but–

  "FOUL, INSIGNIFICANT MORTAL!"

  The scream was so loud that it made Simon glance back. His eyes widened when he saw demonic energy gathering where the Contract had once been. It collapsed onto itself, solidifying into a dense, sharpened point, its aura rolling across the cavern with a surge of mana.

  "SHORTSIGHTED. PETULANT. UNGRATEFUL. THIS WAS A BARGAIN OTHERS WOULD HAVE SLAUGHTERED FAMILY FOR. YOU COULD HAVE BEHELD WONDERS THAT ONLY A HANDFUL OF HUMANS AND DEMONS SHALL EVER EXPERIENCE. YOU COULD HAVE CONQUERED AT MY SIDE. BUT NOW..."

  Simon's body flooded with adrenaline, instinctively knowing what was about to happen.

  "YOU WILL SERVE."

  The demonic mana shot forth. Sharp as a needle, it struggled, fought – before barely piercing through the Warding Orbs' cage of light. The cage fixed itself an instant later, already repaired.

  Which did little to help Simon as the mana raced towards him, fast as a bullet.

  He dodged at the last second. It was a good dodge; well-timed, and more than could be expected from a Level 2 Fledgling with almost no combat experience.

  The mana needle didn't care. It simply did an abrupt U-turn and plunged straight into Simon's right hand.

  Pain. All-consuming pain. Like hot magma coursing through his arm. The rest of him just felt sick, close to vomiting, violently ill. His fingernails rapidly turned black, then his fingers, then his entire upper arm.

  Simon couldn't think. His next action was purely automatic.

  Good thing, then, that he'd watched Evil Dead 2 just a week prior. He didn't hesitate before summoning his sharpest half-broken sword from Inventory, activating the Glove of Minor Power–

  And severing his right arm at its bicep.

  The corrupted appendage fell to the ground with a wet, nauseating plop.

  "YOU...YOU!" Kirkelas screeched with shock and dismay. "HAVE YOU TAKEN LEAVE OF YOUR SENSES?! WHAT TYPE OF MAN MUTILATES HIMSELF WITHOUT SO MUCH AS AN IOTA OF HESITATION?!"

  Simon was in too much pain to speak, but he would've replied with confusion regardless. Why the surprise? One arm was a small price to pay for not being demon-possessed or whatever Kirkelas had tried to do to him. He would've lopped it off even without Transmigrator's Body healing him to full after a good night's sleep.

  Belatedly, Simon noticed that he'd missed a spot. The demonic mana had spread up his arm so quickly that a sliver of it was still attached at the end of his stump.

  Just when he was about to take a bit more off the top, the mana resonated with savage intent. It attacked his psyche, attempting to take control from within. Just a fragment of it remained, but that might have been enough to subsume the mind of a normal person.

  Simon's will crushed it like stepping on an ant.

  Alert: System Integration has activated!

  Demonic Essence has been assimilated and converted!

  Attribute Gained: Fell-Touched!

  Skill Gained: Demonic Shapeshift [Right Arm]!

  Skill Gained: Fell Harvest!

  Skill Gained: Subjugate Territory!

  New options for Class Advancement will be available at Level 13!

  The pain vanished.

  Everything was silent. Neither Simon nor Kirkelas spoke.

  Both watched in awe as his right arm swiftly regrew.

  When it was finally whole again, it looked...different. The limb was now covered with silver-black scales instead of skin. It seemed sturdy, tougher than leather yet growing naturally out of his body. And in place of fingernails, he had five razor-edged talons, each one sharp as a dagger.

  With his left hand, Simon gently prodded at what was apparently a Demon arm. He felt the sensation of being poked. The arm did, in fact, belong to him.

  Hmm. Can I...

  Simon activated 'Demonic Shapeshift' as if it was any other Skill. Immediately, the appendage shifted to a regular human arm with soft skin. Like nothing had changed at all.

  "What?" Kirkelas spouted.

  "What?" Simon agreed. Out of all his guesses, assumptions, and predictions for what would transpire in Caelryn Cave, this had not been one of them.

  "You..." The Demon's inferno faded down to a sputtering campfire. "I don't understand. How did you do that?"

  Kirkelas' voice was frail. Its previous stunt had expended much of its energy.

  Alert: Heroic Valor's bonus activated!

  For weakening the Sealed Demon of Ruination – albeit temporarily – you have received bonus EXP!

  Your Level has increased!

  Level: 2 → 3

  Four unspent stat points added to the pool! Allocate them at will!

  Simon read the system notifications, his heart soaring with that exhilarating sensation of progress. Gleefully, he activated Shapeshift again. The arm turned Demonic. Shapeshift. Back to human form.

  "I rolled the dice by coming here." He grinned. "And what do you know? Double sixes."

  "That. Answers. NOTHING!"

  "No worries. You'll have plenty of alone time to think it over."

  Simon resumed his walk towards the cavern exit. Kirkelas could do little but rant and rave. The only weapons left to him were his ephemeral lungs – which he used to great effect, spewing forth a string of expletives that would've made a sailor blush. He insulted Simon's mother, face, lineage, sense of style, and everything else he could think of.

  The Demon's diatribe went in one ear and out the other. Simon saw no reason to listen to him anymore. The Fell-Touched human was too busy Shapeshifting his arm back and forth like it was a new toy.

  He hadn't gotten everything he'd wanted out of Caelryn Cave...but this? This had potential.

  Upon at last reaching the exit, Simon stopped with the broken door just inches away. It wasn't the Demon's parade of colorful language that made him hesitate. Rather, some small, lingering notion was nagging at him. What had–

  Ah, right. He nodded to himself, remembering that there was still one thing left to do.

  It would be rude not to say his farewells to someone who'd given him such a thoughtful gift.

  "Goodbye, Kirkelas." He sent the Demon a cheerful wave. "When you next see me, it'll be because I'm about to kill you."