As Miller heard the words "golden key," he froze, his entire body tensing with shock. His face betrayed his astonishment, rendering him momentarily speechless.
"What did you just say?" Miller managed to ask, his voice filled with both curiosity and disbelief.
Damian was well aware that the mention of the golden key would captivate Miller's attention, and he seized the opportunity to further entice him.
"The golden key. I can only imagine how many demons are currently in pursuit of it. And if you were the one to retrieve it..." Damian paused, allowing the implication to hang in the air.
Miller's eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. "Then the lord of the underworld would grant me any wish I desire!"
It amused Damian to observe how easily Miller could be deceived, considering that demonic creatures typically offered pacts to humans, whereas Damian was now doing the opposite.
"What is it that you desire? And how can I trust that you possess information about the golden key?" Miller demanded, his skepticism intertwining with a newfound glimmer of hope.
Damian maintained his composure, his gaze fixed upon the haunting face suspended before him, bloodied and ethereal. With a confident tone, he responded, "I do possess knowledge. Only a select few are aware of the key's existence, and even fewer know of your lord's desire for it."
Miller contemplated the proposition, weighing its risks and rewards. After a moment of contemplation, he finally inquired, "How shall our partnership unfold?"
"I can aid you in conquering Lemoria, but in return, I seek a prominent position within the underworld's reign, as well as access to forbidden tomes of dark magic," Damian revealed.
Miller's primary focus remained fixed on the golden key, urging him to press further. "And what of the key itself?"
"After we seize control of Lemoria and you grant me access to the desired books, I shall share the knowledge I possess about the key," Damian asserted, deliberately withholding immediate answers to Miller's burning questions.
Miller yearned for instant gratification, yet Damian cunningly refrained from satisfying his curiosity. Nonetheless, the offer on the table was enticing, with the promise of a formidable ally in Miller's quest to dominate the city.
"Very well," Miller acquiesced, conceding to Damian's terms. "Meet me at my secluded cabin, nestled in the southwest mountains."
As the enchantment dissipated, Miller's spectral visage vanished, leaving Damian to survey the bloodstained ground and the lifeless body nearby.
"I hope this gambit proves successful," Damian muttered, his mind clouded with uncertainty.
Drawing closer to Miller was now within his grasp, a crucial step towards his ultimate objective. However, Damian questioned his own strength to confront Miller directly. His previous encounter had ended in failure, and Damian had no desire to repeat such a harrowing ordeal.
The blood ability he had acquired surged through his veins, augmenting his power at an exponential rate, albeit at the cost of his sanity. Would it be worth utilizing this unholy power to vanquish a demon?
Was Damian willing to sacrifice his own humanity, embracing the demonic, to confront his adversary? These questions loomed unanswered, yet the blood ability remained his sole means of rapidly bolstering his strength.
Miller had to be defeated. Damian had to locate his captured companions. He could not allow a thriving and significant city like Lemoria to fall into the clutches of Miller.
Damian headed towards the cabin Miller had mentioned. It wasn't too far from Lemoria, and flying made the journey easy for him. He wore a black outfit made of slime, with a mask that covered his face, except for his eyes. Damian didn't think Miller would ask to see his face, but even if he did, Damian could reveal his true form whenever necessary.
When Damian arrived at the cabin, he found it deserted. The place was quiet, and it seemed like very few people visited this high mountain location. He took a deep breath and knocked on the cabin door, signaling his presence and readiness to proceed with his plan.
The cabin door swung open, a disorienting stench of feces and urine permeated the air. It was dreadful. Damian was grateful for wearing his Slime mask.
But the worst of it wasn't just the wretched smell of the place; it was the overpowering odor emanating from the man who opened the door for Damian! It was worse than the putridness of the cabin itself!
This man had a muscular build, with a face riddled with scars. His attire consisted of worn leather armor, and his unkempt, greasy hair only confirmed to Damian that it had been quite some time since his last bath.
'He looks like a mercenary,' Damian thought.
It was the most obvious conclusion. It was no wonder that men like him succumbed to the temptation and the lies spun by Miller, a demon who sought to enchant men's hearts with empty promises.
The man scrutinized Damian from head to toe, intrigued by his dark attire made of a different material, and most notably, by his mask.
He became lost in the mask for a few seconds, a shiver running down his spine as he gazed into Damian's eyes.
"That's quite a scary mask you've got there, my friend," he said, stepping aside and clearing a path for Damian. "Come in."
As Damian entered, he noticed that the cabin was even larger than he had imagined. There was no one else there, at least not in that room.
The mercenary led the way, guiding Damian towards a wooden staircase that creaked with each step. They were heading underground!
After a few seconds, the walls transformed into stone, adorned with various spider webs and unknown insects that Damian couldn't identify. Some even attempted to crawl onto his clothes.
"The others are behind this door," the mercenary said, turning around. "I need to go back and make sure no curious soul stumbles upon this place."
Damian stared at the large double stone door, preparing himself mentally. Behind that door lay a powerful demon, and he had to do everything in his power not to be discovered!
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