Vol. 2 Chapter 86: Rules of the Game

Each of us has been assigned a room in this vast royal palace. Sylthrenn has informed us that we will be provided with everything we need. Outside the rooms, maids are always ready to satisfy our every desire. Despite being enemies, the queen treats us all as guests. "The queen is generous! The queen is magnanimous!" I recall the words of the spider-elf. I will make sure to test these promises. I will act as a freeloading guest with no shame at all, if it increases my chances of victory.

In my room, an atmosphere of unprecedented luxury envelops everything. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting mythical scenes, seemingly recounting through embroidery Azharie's rise to power, an art so detailed it almost seems to come to life. If the legend depicted on the tapestries is true, the queen was originally a spider.

The floor is covered with thick spider silk carpets, cushioning every step as if I were walking on a cloud. Each piece of furniture is a masterpiece of cabinetry, with refined carvings and ornaments of silver and gems. The smooth walls are painted in shades of light gray that seem warm when illuminated by candlelight and the fireplace.

At the center of the room is a gigantic bed that could easily accommodate ten people. Franz, Welze, Jarica, and Gallo have stayed in their own rooms, but my women have all come to mine immediately, as if they couldn't stay away from me for a second. They have poured into my room, creating an atmosphere of familiar intimacy.

Luysia sits stiffly on a chair near the window, her cold eyes scanning the outside as if trying to glean the secrets of this dark kingdom. Kanna is close to me, her expression reflecting my own concern, while her long black hair sparkles in the candlelight. Deedee stands leaning against the wall, a defiant expression in her gaze, ready for anything. Bicrista is seated on a small sofa, absent-mindedly stroking the soft fabric, her face still full of fear. Being scrutinized by one of Azharie's Servants has had a devastating effect on her.

Rero is seated in a padded armchair near the fireplace, her eyes half-closed as she contentedly chews another piece of food she must have sneakily brought from the banquet hall. Her carefree and foolish demeanor is one of the few things that manage to reassure me.

"I didn't tell the truth while we were dining," I inform my trusted companions. "I figured as much, you're a pathological liar after all," Deedee retorts, challenging me with her eyes. "I am," I reply with a smile, not denying the reality of my nature. "So, what is the truth then?" the professor inquires, wanting to get to the bottom of the matter.

"We are involved in a conflict between demons. When I joked at the banquet about both the queen and I being tied to a demon, I wasn't actually joking." None of them seem surprised. Being with me, I guess they have become accustomed to expecting the most impossible and absurd things.

"Supporting Queen Azherie is Barthomefolus, Raqahela's sworn enemy demon." "Barthomefolus!" Kanna shudders at the name. "Actually, I've read ancient books about him. He's not just a demon; he's an archdemon, a terrifying being. He even killed a Saintess, an incarnation of the goddess Chand," she explains in her professorial manner.

Raqahela's enemy is equally formidable. We cannot underestimate him, just as we cannot underestimate the queen. It's time to hear what the succubus has to say about it.

"Raqahela! You owe me some explanations!" I exclaim, my voice echoing off the walls of the room.

*SNAP*

The succubus appears without much fanfare, and despite trying to maintain her usual appearance, I sense her discomfort. Not so much because she's upset with me, but probably because she is in the territory of her mortal enemy.

"The stench of that swine pollutes the entire palace! Raqahela would not have wanted to manifest in this pigsty, but for her beloved Strauss, she is willing to do even this. What do you desire, her beloved bishop?" her voice does not hide her disgust.

My women watch the scene in silence, but their eyes are full of questions.

"Explain to all of us in detail how the Demonic Game of Death works," I request, trying to maintain my composure.

"The Demonic Game of Death is an ancient tradition among us demons, used to resolve disputes without resorting to open warfare. It can be interpreted in various ways, but what remains constant is that two Masters confront each other. It's the Servants who participate in the game for their Masters."

"Each Master, like you, selects their own Servants to fight. The battle takes place in a designated arena. The Servants of the defeated Master die."

"But wouldn't they already be dead anyway if they were defeated?"

"It depends on the rules of the game. These can vary from game to game. Before the game starts, the Masters sign a contract. This contract is a powerful curse fueled by the powers of us demons, which prevents the defeated Servant from dying, even from lethal injuries. The Servant is simply eliminated from the competition, waiting until the end of the game to determine the winner. If the defeated Servant is on the winning team, they are healed of all damage, and every wound is regenerated. Otherwise, they die."

Succubus Raqahela, with her ethereal air, floats in the room thanks to her wings as she explains the rules of the Demonic Game of Death. Her voice, usually confident and seductive, now has a more serious, almost solemn tone. I observe the reactions of my companions: they are all very tense. Rero Sansanti wraps her arms around herself, even she is disturbed for once. Luysia Camclair, the ice woman, listens with a focused expression, her hand unconsciously gripping the hilt of her sword. Kanna Merfal, the analytical mind of the group, bites her lower lip, a sign that she is processing all the information. Deedee Lang, always ready for action, crosses her arms, her gaze fixed on Raqahela. Bicrista Schrecken, sitting on the sofa, clenches her fists, probably thinking about the queen's Servant.

"Azharie said that non-Servants can also participate in the game. Is that true?" I ask for confirmation.

"That's right. During the game, they are considered Servants in every respect and suffer the same fate in case of defeat."

"There's a detail she didn't mention before," Raqahela continues. "Every Master must stay out of the arena, acting as a strategist for their Servants. It's not allowed for Masters to directly intervene in the fight."

"This is a bit vague. What are Masters allowed to do?"

"Masters can use typical Master-Servant contract spells, like [ABSOLUTE OBEDIENCE] or [TRANSFER HP]."

This opens up interesting strategic possibilities. I can transfer MP and HP from myself to my Servants or transfer them among each other. This allows me to heal and manage the status of my Servant group, but obviously, I can't do it with those who don't have a contract with me.

"Can I use buff spells or healing spells?" I ask the demon, exploring every option available to me.

"If it's not explicitly forbidden in the contract, yes, you can interact with your Servants as long as you don't enter the game arena. However, you cannot interact with the opponents in any way."

This is definitely useful. If they are not too far from me, I can use my spells to enhance or heal members of my team. However, there's a very likely possibility that Queen Azharie can do the same. Should I insist during the drafting of the contract to prevent both of us from using such spells? It's a double-edged sword, and frankly, I'm uncertain about what to do.

"What do you think of this situation, Raqahela? If I lose, I'll become a Servant of Queen Azharie." I speak telepathically with the succubus.

"Raqahela could never tolerate such a disgrace. A defeat against that pig? Her beloved Bishop, you must absolutely prevent this from happening." she responds telepathically, showing me a fierce look that I had never seen in her before. The matter is personal for her as well.

However, it's me who is risking everything. "Can you help me?" I ask her out loud.

"Neither Raqahela nor Barthomefolus can interfere in the game. You know this, her beloved Strauss. Raqahela is a spectator, a silent observer." As I suspected, she can't help me in this deadly challenge.

"But you can check if there's something useful in her [DEMONIC SHOP]." Telepathically she reminds me of this possibility and her insatiable hunger for [CORRUPTION POINTS]. I will make sure to do so.

I turn to my women, hiding deep within all the conflicting emotions I'm feeling at the moment. I have chosen this role and I will play it to the end. I am the Master. I have everyone's attention and begin to speak. "I have taken responsibility for your lives. I have chosen to stake your lives for rewards and riches we can't even imagine. You will risk your lives for me, your Master, to increase my power. Defeat means death," I tell them the truth of my selfishness.

I wouldn't have wanted to risk their lives if I had another choice. If I had been stronger. But despite all my efforts, I am still weak. That's why I must risk everything to become stronger and never find myself in this damned situation again. It's a contradiction, I know, but coherence is a luxury I can't afford.

"So we must win at all costs," I declare, my voice vibrating with determination. "We have no other choice." Luysia nods slowly, her gaze resolute. Deedee clenches her fist, her expression ready for battle. Kanna looks at me, her mind already working to formulate strategies. Rero relaxes, but her eyes shine with a combative light. Bicrista, still shaken, looks at me with newfound resolve.

Kanna speaks, her expression serious. "We need to plan carefully. Every piece of information could be crucial. We must prepare to the best of our abilities." "And how can we prepare?" asks Luysia, her voice calm but determined.

"I have some ideas," I respond thoughtfully. I pick up the bell on the table next to the gigantic bed and ring it.

Almost immediately, a dark elf maid knocks on the double doors of the room.

"Come in," I say aloud. The dark elf enters the room and bows her head. "Do the queen's esteemed guests require anything?" We are indeed treated as guests, and the maids are trained to speak our language, which facilitates things.

"Can you read my language?" I ask her.

The maid nods.

"I would like paper and pen then. The list is a bit long." I need herbs and alchemist tools, among other things. Let's see if they will fulfill all my desires.