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Chapter 10

"(So, you three returned home safely, after a month having a trip, and successfully bringing back 6 of 10 names of my list, plus a hundred of refugees to occupy the recently massacred district, and having both an Ulshurfak and a former king tailing you. Well done, you three. This is something that I actually wanted. Although, the four names can't be retrieved, but well, you earned the rest you need. Oh, Rhynsa, Ifrit, Anenka, and king Winsel, a word, if you please?)"

The group stayed in the lavish wooden room while the rest of them leave, possibly to start a life anew somewhere in this place after running from some dangerous hellhounds or enemies. Ifrit felt uneasy on Karkos' somehow sarcastic comment, or maybe it was because of his difficulties in reading other's feelings.

He moved closer to Ifrit, smiled to him, and said, "(I am genuinely pleased with your efforts, Ifrit. I believe you've found out about my intentions from my king, yes? It's true. We are going to need a bigger army to fight the devil)."

"(What specific devil are we talking about?)" said Rhynsa. "(There is more than one devil, you know)."

"(Yes, and that's the second part of this mission takes you, yet it's not your concern anymore. The devil we are talking about is still mysterious to us and we don't have anything to tell which one. The involvement of the inner circle means that this matter is not a simple matter)."

"(How do you know Azgal is involved in all this? I thought wrath demons have animosities toward outer circle demons)," said Anarim.

"(That matter, right now, is only a speculation, my king...)"

"(Just call me Anarim, Karkos. I'm but a former king, an old wolf, and a blacksmith. I don't need anything to signify my royalty)."

Karkos sighed, a thing Ifrit saw as accepting Anarim's statement. His vision turned to the world out of his small house, silently watching the bustle of the tree city. Without turning his head, he said, "(You have your rest, hellhounds, but I need to speak with ki...I mean, Anarim. Private)."

Ifrit and the rest of them really needed that well-earned rest, but for Ifrit himself, the fact that in his blood there were traces of wrath demon's descent put him in an uneasy state. He never thought his family had a very complex bloodline. An ice demon of the third circle and a wrath demon of the fifth circle were strong indications that he wasn't a pure hellhound at all. While he never had met his brother aside from knowing he was safe from his grey-furred caretaker, somehow he could say that his brother was a descendant from the ice demons, if the wrath demon's blood was in him.

Exiting the elevator, he met Azgal, leaning against the wall near a store with the local's language of 'Pemahat', with the more English translation below it as 'Carver', which was a place for both stone carving and wood carving, as Ifrit saw the content.

"The people of this region are experienced woodcarvers, but only recently on masonries," said Azgal watching the humans worked. "But, that's not necessary right now. Now, it's about your heritage that intrigued me."

"It's not my choice the blood of your kind is flowing in my blood, Azgal. What do you want from me?"

"Never blame heritage for your fortune, Ifrit. While we wrath demons are the most combat-oriented demon race of all other races, we are also the ones who had the most emphatic link to our own blood. That's the progenitor of feelings for the outer circle demons."

"But the others can..."

"There are reasons you want to know, but those unnecessary questions must wait for later. Right now, it's time for you to train your secondary ability."

"Secondary?"

"Follow me, Ifrit Schelkz."

Ifrit followed the wrath demon-possessed human through the districts in the jungle of giant trees, until they reached a rather spacious area that caused Ifrit a little discomfort since there was totally nothing there. The place seemed to be reserved for a big event that needed a big dimensional space, but an internal instinct caused him to become uneasy.

"Feeling uneasy already, Ifrit?" said Azgal with a smile. "That's the same sensation of a young wrath demon when they were thrown into the pit, with no souls to use and practically nothing in particular is a weapon. Basically, place is the closest this mortal world has to the pit, or anything I know about it."

Ifrit scanned all around him. The spacious place wasn't entirely empty. There were still leaves and tree branches sprouting just out of reach from the high trees, which was hard for even Ifrit to reach it despite of his strong leg muscles. The trunks were smooth with no way for making an improvised weapon, and the grounds had little pebble and sand, yet not very much useful aside from distractions.

"The concept of your ability to use your surroundings as your weapon is an ancient concept to hone the natural ability of any wrath demons or those flowing with their bloods for the lust for violence. Because of that, despite of your survival skills, you are not completely a survivalist. Have you ever thought that despite of that survival skill, you still have a hard time doing menial tasks like lighting a fire or filtering salt water without being taught before, right?"

After Ifrit nodded, Azgal continued by saying, "And then, have you ever thought that despite of you never touching a gun before, you can still familiarize yourself with the mechanisms and shoot your targets in a deadly accuracy?"

"Does that ever happen to you?"

"Are you judging me on my experience, Ifrit?"

Ifrit went silent almost immediately, which made the demon nodded and said, "There's not definition of 'strong' in our culture, nor is there any 'survival to the fittest' or 'jungle rules' crap these humans spouted out from their mouths. In the fifth circle, the damned souls of the wrath sin, or anything you believe, fight for eternity, tortured by their own anger and their affinity in creating violence. The love for violence is the only reason why the wrath demons are so good in fighting that a nail is as deadly as the sword. The pit is where that thought shattered. With nothing to fight for and nothing to anger upon, a soul wishing to become a wrath demon or young demons must gather the concept of violence in the void, release all the pain and anger from not having the fight they wants, and create a brand new weapon of anger and a reason to fight. The first thing maybe the fists, but by time, it will also ends. What actually needed is imagination."

"Imagination?"

"How are you able to use apparently harmless objects like a branch or bread for weapon if you don't know how it does? Also, how can you operate a gun if you're not imagining what's the next sequence it did, huh?"

"Uh, wait a minute...bread?"

"We can start on the detail of the violence later, Ifrit. Okay, overcoming the spacious and nothingness condition like this one requires a great deal of imagination, battle tendencies, and rage. You had two of those requirements, but the one that you currently don't have is the third. A wrath demon is a rage incarnate; they are born naturally with unpredictable rage and vengeance fueled by the environment of the fifth circle. Ifrit, while your hatred toward Eshdar's death is mutual, it isn't enough. Yes, it amplified your senses, but not enough to do this."

Azgal took a deep breath before cut his palm. From it, came out the same energy sword colored in blood red, which stopped his bleeding, yet still leaving an open wound.

"The devil conjuring is the use of internal hatred to form any weapon you like, be it fatal or technical. Without the need to use your surroundings, you can use something out of your imagination to do the role of a weapon for you. The problem is, the weapon grew out from the blood vessel, and I can't grab it if I cut it from my palm. That's the reason why the use of this ability, especially using it to a human's body like this one, can sometimes prove fatal to the body. Sheldon is no exception, you are no exception."

"But, what can I do? I want to get out from fighting as soon as this over, and I don't want to become a circle demon! I just don't. Mortal life is a better choice I made."

"While you can live the rest of your life as a Lycan, the people will fear you with the horn and your eyes, Ifrit. Right now, they best thing I can do to you is to make use of the things you have got to fight the unknown devil."

Ifrit didn't know what to say about that. In the time when the surface world caught up with the dangerous lives of the hellish plains and the political conflict that had been surrounding it started to pour to the surface world. As a surface demon who had conscience, it was his duty to save the surface world despite the animosity. He didn't care if there weren't more demons with that kind of human-like sense of responsibility. It was unsettling, though.

"Okay...what do you got? You've wasted too much pages already with your ramblings."

"Easy. Stay alive from me."

"Excuse me?"