Chapter 214 - 186: The Demon Lord’s Arrival
Hearing a scream, Shire shot up from bed. He then found the corpse of a human male by his bedside.
The man’s face was contorted, as if he had died in great pain.
"Who is this?" He circled the corpse, sizing it up. Judging by his clothes, he looked like a Mage. He wore a mid-length Magic Robe, and a Magic Staff of some unknown material lay discarded beside him.
The body had no external injuries, the clothes were perfectly intact, and there wasn’t a drop of blood on the surrounding floor. "How did he die? Electrocution?"
Shire walked over to the wall. After a quick look around, he picked up the Angry Long Horn from the floor and used it to prod the Mage’s body. "He looks to be about thirty. How could he have died next to my bed?"
"And how did this guy even get in?" He began searching the Mage’s Magic Robe, wary of anything that might be hidden within.
Thankfully, the body seemed safe enough—nothing strange was happening with it—which only made Shire frown deeper. ’This must be the Mage who was playing with the Chimera. Or... could he have taken a job from Valentine to kill me?’
He walked over to his desk and set the Angry Long Horn down. ’This is still too dangerous. He probably cast an Invisibility Technique on himself to get inside the Fortress. Great Nobles all set up Defense Magic Barriers around their bedrooms to deal with potential assassinations, but I don’t have that luxury.’
’And then there’s this...’ he thought, studying the corpse, ’How exactly did he die?’
’It’s not like I killed him in my sleep, right?’ Shire raised a hand and rubbed his temples. He had been pondering the Forest Whisper earlier. ’Did it really have to ’come true’ so fast?’
’This is way too dangerous.’ He turned his head and glanced at a nearby mirror. His reflection was smiling. ’Well, at least I’m still alive.’
Shire lowered his head and let out a soft sigh. But then he realized something. His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto the mirror. His reflection was still smiling.
"I..." He hesitated, reaching up to touch his cheek. After confirming that his own face was set in a grave frown and not a smile, a chill ran down Shire’s spine.
"Who are you?" he asked the mirror calmly after taking a few slow, deep breaths.
"So you can see me?" the "Shire" in the mirror said with a smile. He wore a deceptively harmless grin, as if the Mage who just died meant nothing to him—or perhaps, killing an Intermediate Mage was simply beneath his notice.
"Yes," Shire nodded, his eyes never leaving the mirror for a second. "You’re the one who saved me, aren’t you."
"Think nothing of it." The "Shire" in the mirror waved a hand. A phantom soul appeared in his palm—its face was that of the corpse on the floor. The soul struggled endlessly, letting out silent screams, but it was all for naught. Its expression was a mask of pure agony. "I feel that in helping you, I’m helping myself."
"Helping you?" Shire’s brow furrowed slightly. "If you have something to discuss, we can do it in person."
’The fact that it saved me instead of using some dangerous trick must mean my life isn’t in immediate danger.’
"You’re very clever, and very self-controlled." The "Shire" in the mirror withdrew the Mage’s soul, then looked up and "stepped" out of the mirror. It was like he was emerging from water; the surface of the glass even rippled a few times like a disturbed pond.
"I do, in fact, have a task I’d like to entrust to you." The Mirror Man strode slowly until he stood before Shire, a smile fixed on his face the entire time. But to Shire, that smile looked dangerous—a cold, empty facade.
"And what might this task be?" Shire stood his ground, not flinching or crying out in alarm at the Mirror Man’s strange feats. Instead, he secretly called up the entity’s status panel.
[Name: Lust’s Consciousness Clone]
[Race: Demon]
[Danger Level: ?, Prepare to die.]
[Personality: Evil and Insidious]
[Title: One of the Six Great Demon Lords]
[Own State: Consciousness Clone Form (Negative)]
’Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Shire cursed internally. ’I knew I’d attract something nasty, but a Demon Lord’s clone coming straight to my door? This thing could probably kill me with a single thought. And what the hell is that ’Prepare to die’ in the Danger Level section? The highest I’ve seen before this was ’Slightly Dangerous.’’
Shire thought of his own status description: "Useless." ’Pitting me against an opponent like this... Seriously, God? What kind of sick game is this? Are you ever going to cut me a break?’
"As long as it’s within my power and your price is right, I don’t typically refuse a job." Though his mind was reeling, Shire’s expression remained impassive. He even forced a slight smile. "Perhaps we could sit and discuss this?"
"Tsk, tsk." The clone of Shire gave a slight shake of his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You don’t act at all like a goblin. Frankly, you’re far calmer than those powerful human Mages."
"It’s nothing. In the Nightmare Forest, you learn to expect anything," Shire said with a casual air. He walked to the desk, pulled out a chair, and gestured for the clone to sit. "Apologies, there’s no hot water for tea this late. We’ll just have to talk as we are."
He focused all his willpower on controlling his limbs and facial muscles, trying to appear as natural as possible. Then, the two of them sat down at the desk.
"I need you to find something for me. In return, I can grant you some Magic Ability." The Mirror Man propped his hands on the desk, resting his chin on their backs. "And if you succeed, perhaps I’ll even grant you a wish."
"Find something?" Shire forced himself to relax into his chair. He crossed his hands in front of him, idly twiddling his thumbs. It was a bizarre experience, talking to "himself" like this. Even knowing he was facing a form taken by a clone of the Demon Lord Lust, Shire still couldn’t quite get used to it.
’He probably won’t show his true face to me, anyway,’ Shire thought. "If it isn’t too difficult," he said aloud, "I can consider it."
With a FWOOSH, a burst of sparks suddenly ignited in the air. As the flames burned away, a sheet of yellowed parchment was left floating in their wake.
"It’s a contract," the Mirror Man said in a lazy drawl. "You can have a look."
Once the sparks had died out, Shire reached over and took the parchment. The very first thing he saw was an image.
It was an eye, its iris a swirl of intertwined red and blue. It seemed almost alive, with faint wisps of red mist constantly steaming off its surface. Looking directly at it gave one a sense of disorientation.