Author’s Note

  This chapter is emotionally and spiritually heavy. It explores what happened to Ben’s sister in his past life, and provides deeper context for why Ben recognizes the mark later in the story.

  If you are not emotionally or spiritually ready for a difficult chapter, you may skip this one. The necessary information is implied elsewhere, and the story remains fully readable without it.

  For those who continue, thank you for trusting me with this part of the story.

  Chapter 35

  Ben dashed through the corridors of the castle. His knights rampaged around him. He came across another group of armored demonic warriors. He and his knights tore through them.

  Ben noticed something strange as he rose up the levels of the castle. The side-rooms were empty. There were only a few guards stationed about. The resistance was surprisingly little for a place that should have been filled to the brim with demons. He hadn’t even run into any poor enslaved souls, which were all too common.

  Ben narrowed his eyes.

  “A trap. They know I’m coming,” Ben thought.

  Despite that realization, Ben didn’t stop. He continued to scale the floor of the complex until he came to a massive double door. He knew that behind those doors would be the boss room. Ben didn’t hesitate.

  He had two of his knights move forward to open the doors. If the door was trapped, his summons would take the brunt of the damage. The doors opened without resistance.

  Inside was a grandiose throne room. The walls were lavishly decorated with intricate paintings, all of one demonic entity in a stylish suit.

  The place was surprisingly beautiful. If it weren’t for the red sky outside which permanently bathed everything in a crimson hue, then Ben might have thought he was in a tourist destination back on earth.

  There was one sight that gave Ben pause. Near the throne were a group of women, all bound and chained. They kneeled beneath the throne. There were dozens, all lined up in an orderly fashion.

  Unlike the other enslaved women he came across, these women were clean and meticulously dressed. They were adorned in lavish ballgowns. Something that might have belonged in a Disney movie, but Ben immediately noticed something wrong.

  They didn’t look at him. They kneeled with their heads bowed. They were silent and still, as if awaiting orders. The familiar metal chains hanging from their wrists told the tale of what was really going on.

  As he looked at them he notice a woman who kneeled directly below the throne. Ben’s eyes widened.

  It was her.

  “Victoria!”

  Ben darted forward and dropped to one knee. He raised her chin.

  She was intact. Shockingly so. She didn’t have a visible mark on her. In fact, she looked weirdly clean and kept compared to the women he had saved. Her hair was intricately adorned and styled. She had no visible injuries. Ben could even see her health bar and her status. She was perfectly healthy. The only thing out of the ordinary was the visible black brand that was embedded onto her skin, just below her collarbone.

  He was familiar with that brand. It was a slave’s mark. It was expected. Every slave had it. That wasn’t the most alarming thing to Ben. He couldn’t focus on the mark because what he saw in her eyes was shocking.

  Nothing.

  Her bright green eyes were somehow less vibrant than he remembered. He raised her chin but she didn’t look at him. She stared past him with a dull, lifeless gaze.

  “Victoria, it’s me, Ben. I’m here now,” he said.

  She didn’t respond. A deep sense of dread welled up in Ben. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly.

  “Victoria? Victoria!”

  His voice became more frantic as he repeated her name. Still nothing. As he touched her, he realized how frail she felt. He looked down to see the bindings on her wrists. She was chained to the ground.

  Ben manifested a key from his inventory. He had found many in his journey. He tried to unlock her bindings. It worked!

  Her wristcuffs fell with a heavy thud, which revealed horrible red sores.

  “Come on Victoria, let’s get out of here. Big brother is here now,” Ben said.

  Ben was about to pick her up, but he stopped when he saw her move. She raised a shaky hand. That gave Ben hope. Maybe she recognized him. Maybe she would hug him.

  “Lord, have mercy,” she said.

  Her voice was so soft that he barely heard her. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. She spoke in a monotone, like a robot.

  Ben watched her raise a hand and attempt to make the sign of the cross, but it was wrong. She didn’t make the gesture correctly. She couldn’t and Ben immediately saw why.

  Her wrists had been slashed. More specifically, her tendons. She had been crippled. She made the gesture with a limp hand.

  “Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy, Lord have mercy,” she said.

  She repeated the mantra over and over again, all without looking at Ben, all in that same soulless monotone.

  Ben looked on with horror.

  “Victoria!”

  He tried once more to get her attention. He received only a single response.

  “Lord have mercy.”

  “Such a beautiful voice that one has,” someone said.

  Ben immediately sprang to his feet and turned towards the owner of that voice. The man in front of him was surprisingly normal. At least upon first glance.

  He was thin with pale skin and perfectly trimmed hair. His eyes told the tale of what he truly was. Like the others, his eyes were pitch black. He was impeccably dressed in an all-white tuxedo. There was even a stylish flower-style bow on his chest.

  He was alone, but he walked with the confidence of a king. He had his hands behind his back and bowed towards Ben. Ben could tell by the gesture that it was one of condescension.

  “Belial, at your service,” the demon said.

  Belial’s voice oozed sarcasm. He rose from his bow and returned to that disciplined, upright and superior posture.

  Alarm bells sounded in Ben’s mind. He knew that name. Ben’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “Belial? The Belial?” Ben thought.

  A demon. Not just some nameless monster. An actual demon spoken of in historical text. That confirmed the fears that Ben had but didn’t want to truly consider.

  Hell. This truly was hell.

  Belial raised a brow when he noticed Ben’s reaction.

  “It seems my name precedes me. I’m flattered. Especially from one such as you,” Belial said.

  Ben brandished his halberd.

  “What have you done to my sister?”

  “Your sister?” Belial asked.

  The demon looked from Ben to Victoria with a look of genuine surprise.

  “Oh, this is precious. What a story. The protective brother charges into the gates of hell to rescue his beloved sister. How grand,” Belial said.

  Ben watched the demon’s theatrics with a look of focus. He noticed movement in the background. More demons were coming. He was surrounded completely, yet he stood unmoving in front of the demon.

  “Release her,” Ben said.

  Ben tightened his grip on his halberd. Belial looked confused.

  “Release her? From what exactly?” Belial asked.

  “Don’t play games with me. Release her, now! You have one chance to undo what you have done,” Ben said.

  Belial’s grin widened, unnaturally so. The troop movement got closer the longer they spoke.

  “You’ll find that that is quite impossible,” Belial said.

  Ben paused to consider Belial’s words. Belial looked towards Victoria. She was still whispering that silent prayer over and over again.

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  Belial grinned in a way that wasn’t quite right.

  “She was…the feistiest. Such a strong spirit. It’s so rare to meet a lamb of such quality. The others broke so easily, but her. She needed a special touch,” Belial said.

  Ben could see the demons now. They entered the throne room with a calm and disciplined march. They were grotesque, deformed, and corrupted. There were demons of all different kinds. They looked like misshapen humans. Some wore armor, some didn’t bother. They all had different weapons.

  One in particular stood out. It was a morbidly obese demon with scars all over his body. He looked like he had been stitched together. He wielded two gigantic meat cleavers that were covered in dried blood. He walked next to Belial and stood with barely contained malice.

  “Don’t worry. We took very good care of her.”

  “Shut up!” Ben shouted.

  Ben gritted his teeth and looked forward with eyes full of rage. Belial was thoroughly amused by Ben’s reaction. The demons kept pouring into the throne room.

  “You’re right. Words won’t do it justice. You’ll get to see first hand, every day. I’ll make sure to keep you alive for a very, very long time,” Belial said.

  Ben bowed his head and shook violently. He gritted his teeth so hard that his gums began to bleed.

  He had seen the horrors of that place. He’d seen what they’d done to those they enslaved, to the women. Sometimes he’d caught them in the act. Sometimes he just saw the aftermath. It was a nightmare.

  He thought if he just moved quick enough that he could spare his sister from the same fate.

  He was wrong.

  The look in his sister’s eyes was all he needed to see. He couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down his cheek.

  “Come now, Boy. No tears. The fun hasn’t even begun,” Belial said.

  Ben looked up. Belial raised a brow at the expression that Ben gave.

  Hate. Pure, raw, unfiltered.

  Belial shivered, not out of fear, but excitement.

  “If looks could kill,” Belial said.

  Belial made a gesture and his army began to move forward. Ben stood before them with quiet poise. His hate-filled gaze remained, but it was contained, focused. He was done with words. Now only action mattered.

  Ben raised his halberd and slammed the butt of it on the ground. The clash of wood hitting stone echoed throughout the room. The sound was like thunder which gave the army pause.

  Then his army rose. At Ben’s back, a battalion of spectral warriors manifested in a fantastical shimmer of light. A horse-bound knight strode to the front. It was covered from head to toe in gleaming white armor.

  [Level 49 Spectral General]

  The general wielded an exotically designed lance that was distinct among the rest of the spectral warriors. Ben didn’t even have to speak the command.

  The general pointed his lance forward. The army charged.

  A huge set of black wings suddenly sprung out of Belial’s back. He used them to launch himself into the air, above the fray.

  “Take care not to harm any of my pets. And remember, I want the boy alive,” Belial said.

  Then the two forces clashed.

  Belial watched the battle in amazement. His forces were being slaughtered. The throne room became covered in black, demonic blood.

  Demons continued to flood the room, but Ben stayed in the back to continue summoning any spectral warriors that fell. His mana reserves seemed endless.

  When Belial looked at Ben, he saw a piercing gaze staring back.

  Ben just stood there silently watching him. Another shiver crept up Belial’s spine.

  “Magnificent. Truly worthy of the fear you have inspired in my domain. You will be my most valuable trophy,” Belial said.

  Belial brandished two jagged black daggers. He was too excited to just sit back and watch. There was also the silent challenge that Ben had made. Belial simply couldn’t resist.

  “I’ll be gentle,” Belial said.

  Belial charged forth at a blinding speed, even to Ben. Ben was barely able to respond. Belial closed the distance in a split second and sent a dagger at Ben’s chest.

  Belial didn’t aim for the heart. He wanted to maim, not kill. Belial’s dagger struck.

  It didn’t sink into flesh, instead it bounced off of a layer of metal.

  A giant spectral warrior appeared in front of Ben. It manifested instantly. It wielded two large tower shields.

  [Level 49 Sentinel Elite]

  The Sentinel blocked Belial’s dagger and attempted to crush the demon lord with its other tower shield. Belial was quick enough to fly backwards to avoid the strike. The force of that blow caused the floor to crack.

  “Interesting,” Belial said.

  Belial quickly circled around to attack Ben from behind. The same thing happened. A second Sentinel appeared to guard Ben’s flank. This time, when Belial’s attack was blocked, it was followed up by a spear strike from Ben’s halberd.

  Belial gritted his teeth as the edge dug into his shoulder. He flew back and inspected the wound. His pristine white suit was torn and now stained with his own black blood.

  The veneer of amusement fell from Belial’s face.

  “This was my favorite suit,” he said.

  Ben gave no response to Belial’s quips. He simply stared at the demon lord with a cold expression.

  Belial’s face hardened. He gripped his daggers tighter and raised them. A huge ball of fire manifested above his head.

  “You…will…pay for that,” Belial said.

  Belial spoke slowly to emphasize every word. His words carried a weight that was not lost on Ben. Still, Ben’s stoic gaze did not falter. Belial was a moment from hurling that fireball when a lance suddenly shot out from his chest. His eyes widened in shock.

  He looked back to see that the Spectral General had completed its throwing motion. His fireball dissipated as he retreated and began to pump black magic into his own chest.

  Ben didn’t make it so easy.

  A hail of ghostly arrows shot towards Belial. He saw scattered groups of archers targeting him. Belial dodged through the air and was forced back by the pressure.

  When he got back to the entrance to the throne room, he looked on in shock.

  His army was gone. The last of his soldiers were being obliterated. His captain was bisected in two and laid in a pile of his own blood.

  “Is that all? I gave you plenty of time to lay this trap. Don’t tell me that’s all you brought?” Ben asked.

  Belial looked at Ben in awe.

  “He was stalling on purpose,” Belial thought.

  Belial would have been impressed, but his own frustration clouded that feeling. Belial looked at Ben in bewilderment.

  “You are far stronger than you ought to be,” Belial said.

  Ben frowned in confusion.

  “Stronger than I ought to be? What does that mean?” Ben thought.

  Belial narrowed his eyes. He almost revealed too much.

  “We were supposed to have years to have fun before champions appeared. Someone has been naughty. I must report this,” Belial thought.

  Belial healed himself enough to regain his composure. More of his demons were rushing down the corridor towards the throne room.

  “As fun as this has been, I’m afraid I must cut our little encounter short. I suddenly have important matters to attend to. Until we meet again, Boy,” Belial said.

  Belial snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. His teleportation spell failed.

  He frowned in confusion. He snapped his fingers again. Still nothing.

  Ben manifested an item from his inventory. It was a fist-sized stone with intricate inscriptions sketched into it.

  “A dimensional anchor. You aren’t going anywhere. You will release my sister from whatever curse you have stricken her with. Then perhaps I’ll grant you a swift death,” Ben said.

  Belial was shocked. A dimensional anchor was extremely advanced magic. He couldn’t believe that Ben had access to an artifact of such power.

  “You are full of surprises,” Belial said.

  Ben ignored Belial and walked forward menacingly. Belial gritted his teeth and stretched out his wings. He was confident he could escape. Ben was strong, but Belial was still far faster.

  Belial took off into the air and headed for the throne room door. A shadow suddenly engulfed him.

  A spectral warrior appeared in an instant. It was twice the size of the other summons. It was in full plate armor and was adorned in a white cape. It wielded a massive two-handed claymore.

  [Level 49 Spectral Champion]

  The Champion struck like lightning. It came into existence swinging its sword. Belial barely had a chance to react. He raised his daggers to block the blow. The force pushed past his defenses as if they were nothing.

  He was cleaved in half.

  Belial's torso collapsed to the ground. Blood poured from the spot where his legs should have been. Even his wings had been partially clipped. Notably, he didn’t die.

  Ben’s spectral army moved past Ben to intercept Belial’s reinforcements, which left Ben and the demon lord alone.

  Ben walked up to Belial calmly and looked down with a ruthless expression.

  “Release her,” Ben said.

  Belial coughed up blood. He smiled, which displayed his blood-covered teeth.

  “What is claimed cannot be so easily reclaimed, gah!”

  Belial’s snarky reply was interrupted by Ben’s blade. Ben plunged the spear tip of his halberd into Belial’s shoulder.

  “Release…her,” Ben repeated.

  Belial smiled, despite the pain.

  “Poor boy. You think it is something so simple as a spell or curse? For someone so powerful, you’re adorably naive. Or is it simply denial?” Belial asked.

  Ben twisted his blade in Belial’s wound.

  “Release her!”

  Ben’s stoicism faltered. He looked down with rage and contempt. The throne room was filled by Belial’s ragged laughter.

  He raised a hand to reveal a glowing tattoo etched into his palm. Ben immediately recognized that symbol. It had been branded onto every slave he came across, including his sister.

  Belial looked up at Ben in amusement, even as he lay dying.

  “As you wish, Boy. My only regret is that I won’t get to see the look on your face,” Belial said.

  With that last sentence said, the demon lord fell limp. As soon as Belial stopped moving, the tattoo pulsed a deep, dark red then ignited with black flame.

  [Level up!]

  [Congratulations! You have reached level 50]

  [You have gained-]

  Ben didn’t pay attention to his notification because a bone-chilling noise drew his attention. Screams. Countless screams.

  His eyes widened in shock. He could only imagine what was happening to those poor souls in the distance, miles away from the demon lord’s castle.

  He didn’t have to wait long to find out. A chorus of screams erupted within the throne room.

  Ben looked in horror at the women still kneeling below the throne. Their bodies were engulfed in a blaze of black fire. A terrible realization hit him.

  Every slave with the brand, all the people he thought he saved, they were being burned alive.

  “Lord, have mercy!”

  A distinct voice rang in Ben’s ears and snapped him out of his shock.

  “Victoria!”

  Ben rushed forward as fast as his feet could carry him.

  Victoria’s body was barely visible behind the flames. In a panic, Ben reached for her with his free hand.

  “Gah!”

  His hand was set ablaze the moment it touched the fire. It dealt massive damage to him, even with his level 50 health pool. Thinking quickly, he manifested a health potion from his inventory and doused the flames.

  It worked. The fire extinguished, but his left hand was now seared black. He ignored it and pulled out a much larger potion from his inventory. He threw it at Victoria. The glass shattered, then vanished harmlessly into thin air as it released the liquid inside.

  Victoria’s body was engulfed in the potion. The fire vanished, revealing a terrible sight.

  Her entire body was burned black. Her hair and eyebrows were gone. She was unrecognizable. Her hands remained clasped in a praying position.

  Ben leapt forward and embraced her.

  “No…no, no, no.”

  He manifested potion after potion from his inventory and poured them over her. Each time, he received the same message.

  [Target cannot be healed]

  [Target cannot be healed]

  “Ben?”

  His eyes widened at the sound of Victoria’s weak voice. She opened her eyes and looked at him with a half-lidded gaze.

  He tried to put on a reassuring face for her but he couldn’t stop his tears from falling.

  “I’m here. Big brother is here,” he said.

  Victoria gave a faint smile.

  “Praise the Lord. We’re finally…free.”

  Then she went still. Her eyes remained open, but Ben knew she was gone.

  He shook her.

  “No, Victoria. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

  Ben looked around desperately for help, but all he saw was his spectral army standing silently at attention. The room was filled with blood, severed limbs, and demonic bodies. The charred corpses of the other women lay nearby. He could still smell their burning flesh. The distant screams were gone.

  Only silence remained.

  Ben had been moving nonstop since entering the hell gate. He hadn’t allowed himself time to think about everything he had lost. He fought, slept, then fought again until exhaustion claimed him, all so the horrors wouldn’t break him.

  Now he had all the time in the world to think.

  His mother. His father. The twins. And now his beloved sister.

  Even the slaves he thought he had freed.

  All gone.

  Despite all his power, he had failed. Nothing could distract him from that truth.

  Ben cried harder than he ever had in his life. His whimpers echoed off the stone walls.

  It was too much. Too heavy.

  There was only one thing he could cling to, the final prayer his sister had spoken with her last breath.

  “L-Lord…have mercy. Lord, have mercy,” he whispered.

  His frame quivered with the force of his sobs. He drew her close, ignoring the pain burning through his hand. He rocked her charred body in his arms like a baby.

  A baby he knew would never wake.

  “Lord, have mercy.”