Everything has a Price

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works, if you recognise it from somewhere else, surprise it isn't mine.

Betad by morde24, Atrius, Hermes, Priapus, Marethyu, Old Man of the Mountain and TheDonFluffles

Atrius Note: Honestly I'm kinda liking the frequent stories more and more ngl.

Old Man of the Mountain: You know what I give up. There is no stopping his creativity.

TheDonFluffles' Note: Hey Shiro, did you know that you have 12 active fics with less than ten chapters?

The Guild of Gamers: The Warlock

Chapter 01: Everything has a Price

I died, of that I'm sure.

I don't quite remember how, just flashes of panic and pain before… nothing.

So the fact that I seem to be in what looks like the devil's throne room is a cause for concern, pitch black flooring and pillars, purple fires lighting the room as I walk along the red velvet carpet towards the raised throne, seeing the horned figure waiting for me.

I don't think I lived such a bad life as to deserve hell, but I also never believed in God so I can't say I'm too surprised I've been kicked down to hell for being an infidel.

Turns out that crazy street preacher was right. I should listen to raving lunatics more often.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, I look up at what I can only assume is Satan, who is staring down at me with intense violet eyes.

He doesn't look quite like I imagined, with fair white skin instead of the intense red you usually see, but the long luxurious hair and majestic wings, both as black as night, really represent the fallen angel Lucifer is said to be, and the pair of large horns coming from his head make his demonic nature clear.

"I am not Lucifer, though he is an old friend of mine," the figure says simply, making me stiffen in surprise at the elegant, upper-class tone. "You were right, God wasn't real in your world. No God, no Satan, only me."

If there's no Satan then how can Lucifer be his- wait, my world?

"You catch on quickly, yes, your world. There are countless realities where Christianity is right, more where it's wrong, and even more where it doesn't exist at all. Your world had no higher beings, until I arrived," the figure said calmly, not even hiding that it was plucking the thoughts from my head. "I am Grayson Raum, the most powerful demon lord in existence, and you have the rare honour of gaining my attention. Consider yourself blessed."

"Usually when one finds their soul in the hands of a demon lord, it's the opposite of a blessing," I say bluntly, there's no point trying to fool him about my feelings when he's clearly in my head.

"Very true, but in this case, it truly is a boon. You've been selected to be given a second chance at life, granted powers and potential beyond your imagination as you are sent to a new world," Grayson said, making me narrow my eyes.

I don't have anyone back home that I care about, my parents passed away a couple of years ago and while I've dated, none of my relationships have lasted.

I have friends and work colleagues, but none I'm overly close to, I guess I was too focused on my job for friendships.

I'm a materialistic person by nature, wealth and comfort have always been my focus. Sure, I worked my ass off but I could also afford a penthouse suite in the middle of the city, my expensive cars (all three of them), my high-end wardrobe and every other comfort I could want.

"What's the catch? I'm not naive enough to think a demon would go out of their way to resurrect me for free," I say simply, making Grayson nod easily.

"Naturally. The world I am sending to you has a little issue. Magic users are currently being hunted and murdered by peasants. I find this distasteful," Grayson said, an undercurrent of anger in his tone.

"So you want me to stop that?" I ask, making him nod.

"I could do it myself, of course, I could incinerate every non-magical being in that world with a single muttered spell, but I don't lower myself to dealing with such things personally anymore. You will be my agent in that world," Grayson said simply, resting his head on his hand. "I believe you'll be rather motivated, given that you'll have magic of your own. I doubt you're interested in being burnt at the stake."

"No, I'm certainly not," I agree, my mind racing. Magic? My world certainly didn't have that, or if it did I never noticed.

I can't deny I've had some childish fantasies over how amazing it would be to have magical powers, but I never expected this.

"How am I expected to stop the witch hunts?" I ask, making Grayson shrug.

"I don't care what method you use, bring lasting peace between the mages and non-magical people, conquer the world and burn the witch hunters at the stake, create a pocket dimension where the mages can live safely, the method is up to you. You'll find I allow a great deal of independence in my agents," Grayson explains, making me nod as my mind races.

Refusing was never an option, I can tell that, and even if I could say no I'd just go back to being dead which isn't something I'm particularly interested in. So this is what it feels like to make a deal with the devil?

"I see. Then I have one last question. Why me?" I ask.

People die all the time in my world, and Grayson clearly has access to other worlds so he must have had billions of options. Why me?

"If you had been born in a world with magic, you'd have been a prodigy. Many of your dimensional counterparts are legendary arch-mages. I always seek agents with great magical potential, yours was the best in your world," Grayson admits easily. "Beyond that, you're hard-working and persistent when you have a goal in mind, and I have to deal with enough lazy bastards already."

Heh. Maybe all that work I put in was worth it after all. It's nice to know I'm apparently naturally suited for magic, even if it sucks that I was born into a world without it.

"Well, you already know I'm interested, not that I have much choice," I say, getting an agreeing smirk from my new… master. "What happens now?"

"Now, you get your new power and I send you to your new world," Grayson says, gesturing towards me as I feel a sudden searing pain on the back of my right hand. I grit my teeth to hold in a scream as I watch a pentagram being burnt into my skin. "I'd advise wearing gloves in your new world. But most importantly, don't disappoint me. I am not as laid back as my… colleagues."

The pain comes to an end as I feel my body grow hot, warmth and power flooding my veins as I look down at the brand.

"Goodbye, Lucas Hall. We will not see each other for quite some time, and I suggest you have progress to show me by that time," Grayson says simply, and before I can respond the floor beneath my feet falls through, sending me tumbling through the inky black void for what seems like minutes before I land, face down on the dirt in my new world.

…Ow.

Rising to my feet, I brush the dirt off my clothes, realising that my expensive suit has been replaced with something new.

The pants haven't changed much, though my shoes have been replaced by some leather boots, it's my top that's been changed.

While I have my white shirt, my black jacket has been changed to a fancy black and gold waistcoat, impressively detailed and well-made.

Of course, I'm also wearing a pair of black gloves, with a pair of black and gold leather bracers at the end of my wrists. To top it off, I'm wearing a black hooded cloak.

I don't know how much I'll stand out in this world, but I certainly would look suspicious in my world. From what Grayson said, I suspect this world is much less developed than my own.

I'm not sure if it'll quite be medieval in nature, but magic and witch burnings certainly make me expect a more fantastical world than the modern comforts I'm used to.

The road I can see adds to that, dirt with what seems to be cart and horse tracks. This is certainly going to take some getting used to, but I don't have too long to waste.

While I'm no good Christian boy, I've tried to live my life without hurting anyone else, even if I had to use some of my co-workers as stepping stools to climb the corporate ladder. I was good to those under me, even if I could have exploited them for my personal gain, shit I even donated to charity.

I like to think that I am a good person at heart, greedy and a little self-serving perhaps but certainly not evil so I never expected to spend my life after death bound to a demon lord, but I have no time for regrets or doubts.

I have a small satchel by my waist, under my cloak. Rummaging through it I find a white porcelain mask and a letter, penned in red ink and exquisite penmanship.

'One last thing, I selected this particular location to assist you in fulfilling your duties. Nearby, a young sorceress is fleeing from witch hunters. She will soon be captured, during which she'll be badly beaten before she'd dragged off to Deireadh Prison, where she will be repeatedly tortured, raped and eventually put to the torch. Save her, or keep your head down for now. The choice is yours.'

What the hell kind of choice is that? Protect my anonymity at the cost of sentencing someone to a slow and excruciating death?

If I'm to fulfil my duty, I'm going to have to take the fight to these witch hunters sooner or later anyway, I won't allow this sorceress to suffer such a fate just to buy me some more time.

But that means fighting Witch Hunters, who are no doubt trained to fight against magic users, of which I've been one for all of a few minutes.

I might have to kill them, which makes me shudder slightly as I place the mask over my face. I've never killed anything larger than a spider, nor did I ever want to.

But these Witch Hunters… if this girl is captured, she'll be tortured and raped. They aren't good people, maybe they think they're doing this for a greater cause but torture and rape are undeniably evil acts.

Plus, burning people at the stake instead of just killing them quickly? That's sadistic, and while I don't know anything about this sorceress, I know what they'll do to her if she's captured.

If I have to choose between their lives and hers, I choose hers.

[Pact Magic]

The basis of your system, which allows you to call upon higher beings to create pacts with them to gain further power.

[Pact of the Chain]

Through your pact, you can call upon your powers to summon a familiar to assist you. This familiar can take various forms based on what pacts you've forged.

Forms: [Imp]

[Voice of the Chain Master]

You can both share the senses of your familiar and speak through them. In addition, you can communicate telepathically with them no matter the distance between you.

[Hellfire Manipulation - Lesser]

Through your pact with a demon lord, you can call upon the demonic flames of hell to burn your opponents. Be careful not to summon more than you can control.

[Devil's Luck]

Through your pact with an archdevil, you can call upon the luck of the devil to twist fate in your favour, altering probability to bring you the greatest outcome. If used too frequently, it twists fate in the other direction for a time, making you extremely unlucky until it recovers.

[Devil's Sight]

You have gained the ability to see perfectly in darkness, both natural and magical. In addition, you can sense the presence of sins within mortal beings.

[Devil's Tongue]

You can read, write and speak fluent Abyssal and Infernal, though be warned, both languages can be painful for mortals to read or hear.

The burning of my brand makes me wince as I feel new knowledge flood into my mind, but it makes me smile at the same time.

First things first, I reach out with my new powers and cast my first spell, a small pentagram appearing in the air as an Imp emerges from it.

The tiny creature looked exactly like I expected, around 2ft tall it flies with red leathery bat-like wings, it has two small black horns on its head and glowing orange eyes as it looks towards me.

Its tail is almost as long as the rest of its body, with a dangerous-looking stinger at the end of it.

My power provides me with the imps skills, and I immediately make a plan.

"Shapeshift into a bird, a woman near here is being chased, find her," I order in Infernal, harsh, alien words spilling out of my mouth as the Imp bows towards me.

Its body shifts, shrinking and twisting inhumanly until it takes the form of a small crow, with blazing red eyes. It has its orders, and it immediately takes flight.

Focusing, I hold out my hand and take a breath as I try to call upon my flames, creating a small purple ball of flames hovering above the palm of my hand.

Closing my fist, I quench the flame, repeating the process a few times while I get used to the feeling.

…it's a very cool feeling, I won't deny it. Whenever I summon the flames I can feel the heat of my brand. It's not painful, in fact, it's almost comfortably warm beneath my glove, but as I try and summon more and more I feel the brand grow hotter and hotter, the glow visible through my glove as I quench all the flames.

It warned me not to summon too much, and I think I just worked out how to tell how much is too much.

I don't want to lose control of them, because I can feel the flame's hunger, it wants to consume as much as it can, as expected of the flames of hell.

It's not long before I hear my imp's voice in the back of my mind, a high-pitched screeching tone not too dissimilar to nails on a chalkboard as it speaks in the same harsh language.

'Master, I see the girl'

Reaching out with my senses, my eyes blacken as I watch through its eyes, seeing a girl fleeing through the countryside, a panicked look on her face.

Through my imps hearing, I hear the shouts of the hunters before I even spot them, one of them calling the rest as they spot her trying to make a break for the tree line.

She's dressed in a rather elegant blue dress, but it's torn and dirty, and through my imp's impressive eyes I can see some cuts and bruises on her body as she looks back over her shoulder at her pursuers.

At a guess, I'd say she's in her late teens, or her early twenties at a push, probably over a decade younger than me. She's also undeniably beautiful under the dirt and sweat. Pale skin, probably unmarred before all this, and long raven-black hair that's now matted with mud and twigs.

As if to confirm that she is who I am looking for, she says something in a language I don't understand before she throws her hand back, a bolt of lightning flying back and striking one of the men in the shoulder.

It sends him back, but he rises to his feet quickly with an angry look on his face, seeming no worse for wear.

"Get the shackles, this freak won't be casting any spells when she's chained up with some Dimeritium," he barks, taking aim with his crossbow and taking a shot, aimed low to try and hit her legs.

Dimeritium? Is that some kind of anti-magic metal? I'll need to keep that in mind.

Luckily he misses, but I've seen enough as I return to my senses and start running. She looks exhausted and they were gaining on her, so I take a deep breath to steady myself, and rush towards them.

— Morgana —

Running towards the treeline, she flinched as a crossbow bolt flew past her and stuck into one of the trees.

Maybe they were just going to kill her, but that would be preferable to being taken to Deireadh, as much as she didn't want to die.

She heard horror stories about what happened to sorceresses in the depths of that prison, and the hunters hadn't been shy about making their fate clear.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, they were supposed to meet with Professor Margarita's friend who would get them out of Temeria.

It wasn't supposed to be like this in the first place, but 'King' Radovid had finally lost his mind and they feared it was only a matter of time before his hunters raided Aretuza.

Instead, the hunters caught them before they could reach Novigrad, clearly having been tipped off, as worrying as that was, and it was only because one of the hunters hadn't been able to wait until they reached the prison to grope her that she was able to grab his key and undo her own shackles.

She wanted to help the others, but a hunter noticed she was free and while she managed to silence him with a spell, it wasn't exactly subtle and she had to run before the others investigated his scream.

She didn't know how far she'd run, but her bare feet were aching from running through the rough countryside and she knew she couldn't keep this up.

They were gaining on her, she was too tired to cast anything else, her lighting spell had barely bothered the man it hit, and it was only a matter of time until they caught up.

If she was very lucky or they were merciful, they'd kill her for running. Somehow she didn't feel like she'd be lucky or they'd be merciful to her.

The second best outcome was that they beat her, probably raped her, and then killed her when they were done.

And finally, the most likely outcome, she'd be dragged back to the prison transport and punished for running and killing three of their men, before she was taken to Deireadh where her suffering would be prolonged for months before they deemed fit to kill her.

She could hear the sounds of their heavy footsteps behind her, and her inexperience showed itself as she failed to notice a root coming out of the ground until she'd already tripped over it, landing face down in the mud with a pained yelp.

Her leg hurt, but it was the least of her problems as she rolled over onto her back and saw the three hunters catch up to her, cruel smirks on their faces.

"Done running, freak?" one of them asked, a burn mark on his armour from where her failed spell had struck him as he approached her.

Backing away, she couldn't gain any distance as he slowly approached her, catching up to her even with his slow pace.

"No, please, get away from me!" She shouted, willing her magic to respond as she feebly backed away, hating how pathetic she sounded. Her words were only responded to with cruel laughter.

The pair of dimeritium shackles on his hands made her shudder as tears pricked her eyes, knowing they planned to take her back.

As he reached down to grab her hair, a bird dive-bombed him, pecking at his face as the man squawked in pain and waved his hands in front of his face.

What was going on?

"What the fuck, get away!" he shouted, flailing his hands wildly until he hit the bird out of the air, sending it tumbling to the ground.

The bird didn't seem to care as it immediately rose back up, its body shifting as the feathers faded to reveal a small red humanoid figure.

It cackled in a strange tone, rising to the air.

"The witch has summoned a demon!" one of them shouted, grabbing his sword and pointing it towards the creature.

No, she definitely didn't. She didn't even know what that thing was.

It opened its mouth and harsh, foul words spilt out, scaring the men as they stared at it.

"What's it saying?!"

"It's a curse, it's placing a curse on us! Kill it!"

Cackling again as it flew over a sword swing, dodging nimbly.

"No, mortals, I was just warning you to watch out for the flames," it cackled again, making them pause at the screechy voice.

"What flam-"

The lead hunter's words were interrupted as his halted question was answered, a ball of purple fire striking him in the back as he burst into flames, screaming as he flailed, his skin rapidly turning red and then black as the fires consumed him.

They felt wrong. There was something incredibly off about those flames, but since they were incinerating one of the men who had such foul intentions for her she couldn't bring herself to care.

The other two turned around, which proved to be a mistake as the creature darted forwards and struck, its scorpion-like tail stabbing into one of their necks, making the man scream in pain as the imp flew away cackling, leaving him clutching at his neck, which was already turning an unhealthy colour as the skin darkened.

Looking past them, she spotted a hooded figure standing a good distance away from her, one hand wreathed in purple flames as he stared at the hunters.

At least she thought it was a 'he', as there was an expressionless mask covering his face, but he had a more masculine figure.

Who was he? Another mage, obviously, but how did he know she was in danger? Why was he risking the hunters' attention by trying to save a stranger?

"Who the fuck are-" one of them started, turning a crossbow towards the man who responded by immediately tossing another ball of purple fire towards him.

The hunter dodged desperately, but to both of their shock the ball of flames curved to follow him, striking him despite his attempt to dive out of the way.

The third hunter was still clutching his neck, his face rapidly paling as he fell to one knee, the masked figure walking towards them with a level of confidence she'd only seen in the teachers.

Holding out a hand, another ball of purple flame appeared in his grasp, with no words or incantations spoken.

"Wait, please-" the final hunter started, making the figure pause and tilt his head.

"Pleading? It didn't seem to help this young woman," the figure said coldly, his accent reminding her of some of the nobles she'd met but she couldn't place the dialect. "Tell me, what would you have done if I had not arrived? Do not lie, you'll only irritate me."

"W-we we're gonna take her to Deireadh, with the rest of her kind," he stammered, pale and sweating as he looked up at the expressionless mask.

"Oh? Is that the entire truth?" the man said calmly, making the hunter shudder as the creature landed on the mage's shoulder, cackling softly. "Speak quickly, before I lose my patience, and you may just survive the next minute."

"W-we we're gonna torture her, for killing some of our boys, a-and rape her," he stammered, the man not responding as he turned to look at her.

She couldn't see his face, of course, only a pair of deep violet eyes peering down at her through the slits of the mask.

"As the party who would have suffered such a fate, do you think I should spare this man?" he asked simply, making the hunter shake in fear.

Days of being terrorised and abused by the men flashed through her mind, seeing some of her fellow students be beaten, raped or even killed outright for resisting, and whatever pity she may have had hardened.

"No."

The moment the word left her mouth, the man clicked his fingers and the fireball flew towards the kneeling man, making him scream as the flames consumed him.

As his screams came to a swift end, the man clapped his hands together and the flames vanished, watching her as she tried to rise.

Her ankle throbbed in pain as she put pressure on it, and she immediately fell again, but before she could unceremoniously faceplant a second time, the man moved quickly and caught her.

"Easy, I think you sprained your ankle," he said, his voice much softer now.

"W-who are you?" Morgana asked hesitantly, making him pause before he sighed and reached up, removing the mask and placing it in a satchel beneath his cloak.

His clothes looked expensive from the brief look she'd gotten at them, and surprisingly not dirty except for his boots and the bottom of his pants which had a considerable amount of mud on them.

With his face revealed, she confirmed her suspicions of him at least having some noble upbringing, because he was certainly no peasant.

He was older than her, with a well-kept beard and moustache. His skin was more tanned than you'd expect from someone from Redania, suggesting he had spent time in one of the warmer countries, and his dark hair was styled with a slight curliness to it.

She'd be lying if she said he wasn't extremely handsome.

"My name is Lucas, my familiar spotted you and these… gentlemen pursuing you," Lucas said calmly. "Do you have a safe place to go?"

"N-no, I only came to Redania with my teachers to—" she cut herself off "wait! The others, you have to save them! The hunters have my teacher and the other students, we were trying to meet with someone to flee to Kovir," Morgana said desperately. "They're transporting them all to Deireadh, the mage prison!"

"Where, and how many?" Lucas asked quietly, making her wince.

"They were travelling along the road, but they stopped every night. It's not safe to travel after sunset when the monsters are more active. There were at least fifty witch hunters…" Morgana admitted, making him frown.

She knew it was impossible, just the two of them against all those hunters, but she couldn't just leave the others to such a fate.

"How long until they reach this Deireadh?" Lucas asked, his brows furrowed in deep contemplation.

"I overheard them saying it was going to be a few more days before we reached Oxenfurt," Morgana explained, emboldened by the way Lucas hadn't just refused.

"Then we have time, you're in no state to be saving anyone after all. Three hunters I can take on without a plan, but fifty?" Lucas said, making her nod.

Turning to his familiar, he spoke in the same harsh tongue it had mocked the hunters in, making it shift back into a bird and take flight.

"It'll find the convoy, but we need to move before their friends come looking for them," Lucas said, reaching down and picking her up in a princess carry, making her blush at the bold action. "My familiar saw a cave somewhat nearby, it's not perfect but we can take cover in it for now while it tracks the convoy. You need to rest, both physically and mentally," he said softly, making her blush slightly.

He wasn't saying it was impossible, but he was definitely right that they'd need a plan to have any chance of helping the others. Once she'd rested, her own magic would return and she'd be able to put up more of a fight.

Her exhaustion caught up with her as he started carrying her to the cave, and feeling safe for the first time in days, she let her exhaustion overcome her and fell into a slumber.

— Lucas —

The cave had been predictably filled with strange humanoid monsters, about half my size with red eyes and pointed ears, a bald head and an unnaturally large chin.

They burnt as easily as the hunters, and now that my damsel in distress is safely sleeping in my cloak there's something else I needed to take care of.

Bent over, I wipe my mouth as I finish spewing my guts all over the cave floor, sweating as I gasp for breath.

I just killed three men, bad men yes but I just snuffed out three lives. I can still smell the burnt flesh and hear them screaming in pain, I'm honestly surprised I held it together this long.

And now? Now I'm trying to work out how to kill fifty more.

Quest Added

Free Magic

Objective: Stop the persecution of magic users

Reward: Freedom, ???

I get it, I do. This is my task, I can't start it off by abandoning an entire school of mages to such a fate.

I could feel the evil inside those men, lust, hatred, sadism, pride, greed and envy. They were not good men, though I think they might have convinced themselves they were.

The girl has hatred inside her as well, but it's new, a newly planted seed growing inside her chest, and there's suffering as well.

It tastes good, there was a part of me that wanted to see it grow, a voice in the back of my head whispering how delicious that suffering would be if I betrayed the trust she's placed in me. This is the consequence of forming a pact with a devil.

Spitting out the rest and wiping my mouth, I go back to her and take a seat next to her, leaning back against the cave wall.

It's pitch black this far in, but I can see just as easily as I could on a clear day.

Moving my senses back to my imp, I watch as he flies above the road, far faster than a regular bird could manage.

With its speed, it doesn't take long until he finds the prison transport, and her estimate was wrong. That's easily more than fifty, that's a fucking army of hunters escorting the horses which are pulling carts with cages atop them, dozens of prisoners in shackles inside them.

'Follow them, tell me if anything changes.'

With my mental order given, I sigh and wish I had a second familiar to watch the cave, but I can feel that summoning a second familiar would cause my current one to disappear.

So, I can't properly rest unless I want to risk some hunters finding us napping.

Maybe you need a little extra power then, little Warlock~

It's not Grayson, that's immediately apparent as a sultry feminine voice fills my mind, making me straighten up.

Don't look so worried, Lord Grayson arranged for a few patrons for you, and I'm always happy to help my ancestor.

I'm… well, names aren't important. You can call me The Archfey, or maybe The Vampire? Perhaps even the Succubus, depending on my mood.

That's quite an impressive list of titles, I can practically hear the capital letters.

I got lucky, but enough about that.

You need to find a way to stay hidden, and I can help with that. Fey specialise in subterfuge and misdirection, after all.

How about it, would you like to form a pact?

Another pact, is this going to be as permanent as my pact with Lord Grayson?

No, silly. Well, not unless you want something large enough to be worth your servitude, though I can promise you'd enjoy serving me~

I'll grant you a small taste of the power I can offer, in exchange for a simple task.

This world has so many boring prudes, and I find this offensive. I want you to make one of them betray their precious morals.

I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a little busy at the moment.

Oh, I don't mean immediately, I'm willing to be a little patient. I'll grant you the power now, a taste of what's to come, and you can complete your end of the deal later on.

If you fail? Well, you'll just have to accept some punishment~ don't worry, I'll be gentle.

This feels like a trap, but the ability to hide better sounds like it would be incredibly powerful in a world where magic is hunted.

Is now the time for caution?

That's the spirit, you won't regret it.

All you have to do is make some boring prude lighten up. Actually, I'll make it even easier.

If you just humiliate one instead, I'll accept that as payment this time.

Seduce some dull housewife, convince a priest to bend over one of his priestesses, humiliate a proper family man, I don't care how, just entertain me, little warlock.

Quest Added

Raven's Request

Objective: Corrupt or Humiliate a Prude

Reward: You avoid paying her back in whatever way she deems necessary to punish you

Time Limit: 14 Days

[Mists of the Feywilds]

Through your pact with an Archfey, you've gained the power to call on the mists of the Feywilds, summoning them to a location. This mist will fool the senses of any who enter it, causing them to get turned around or lost, never finding anything you don't want them to, even the way out. You can choose who the beguiling nature of the mist affects, and how it affects them

I'm not particularly surprised when I feel something on my chest, opening my shirt to look as lines form in the centre of my bare chest, twisting and intertwining to form what I vaguely recognise as a Celtic trinity knot. Unlike my brand, it looks more like a tattoo than a brand, but it's still a sign of my pact.

Raven, so that's her name?

Don't forget it, or I'll have to remind you. Remember to have fun, Cutie. That's the best part of life.

While my new tattoo throbs as I call upon the mists, covering the cave entrance in a surprisingly thin mist, it's not pain that I feel but something entirely different as my lower head throbs and hardens, arousal flooding my body.

You know, Morgana is right there, she's even dreaming of you, I could place her into a trance if you'd like, so she won't wake up no matter what you do to her, I'll even get rid of the evidence~

Absolutely not, I didn't save her from being raped and violated just to do it myself, no matter how horny the mark makes me. Also, Morgana? That's a rather cliche name for a mage.

What if I offer you more power for it? We'll call your quest done and I'll give you a freebie, you don't even have to do any insertion if you don't want to, her breasts would feel amazing~

Even then, I'm afraid. Whatever game you're playing, I'm not interested.

Heh, you're an odd one.

Most of Grayson's pet projects would have bent her over already, without needing me to tempt them.

I don't think wanting to not force myself on a traumatised teenager should be seen as odd.

You'd think so, but that tells you all you need to know about the illustrious ranks you've joined.

You're adorable, little Lucas.

I'm sure you're equally adorable, or would you prefer alluring?

I can be both.

Hmm… how about another deal? I get control of your dreams tonight, and I'll give you another power.

Would it have any permanent effect? You'll forgive me if I don't trust a Fey.

No permanent effect, I just get to control your dreams for the night. It's a very fair deal, right?

Eh, I'm in too deep for caution. Why not?

My tattoo warms up again, sending a shiver of arousal through my body as her tinkling laughter fills my head.

You're going to be fun, I knew agreeing to help Gray would be worth my time.

[The Fey Roads]

Through your pact with the Archfey, you've gained access to the secret pathways the fey use, able to travel across the world with just a few steps. You'll be able to safely navigate these paths, always arriving at your intended destination.

I'd say 'sweet dreams', but I already know just how sweet they'll be.

As she speaks, my eyes slowly close against my will, but I let it happen, not wanting to annoy my new patron.

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day, I'll need to sleep.

— Bonus Scene — Margarita Laux-Antille

In one of the cages, alone unlike the other cages that were stuffed beyond capacity, Margarita cursed herself for allowing this to happen.

They'd been betrayed. The hunters didn't just stumble across them, they were waiting on the rural road they planned to travel, in great numbers as she and her students stumbled into an ambush.

Perhaps it would have been better to stay in Aretuza, as it was defensible, but most of her students weren't fighters. They would have been captured if they'd just tried to bunker down.

And worse, none of her Lodge sisters knew where she was, after the calamity at Loc Muinne they'd scattered to the four winds, and none could risk trying to help her even if they knew where she was.

She'd told them that their plan was risky, foolish, that they were blinded by ambition, but as always they didn't listen and now she'd be lucky if she ever got to say 'I told you so', and if they were reunited it would likely be in the dungeons of Deireadh where a terrible fate awaited them both.

Radovid knew she was a member of the Lodge, as terrible the fate that awaited her students, her own would be far worse.

She'd already been forced to see dozens of her best and brightest tormented, cut down or defiled by these brutes, unable to help with the dimeritium shackles and chains binding her.

Her students had gotten a single pair of manacles made of the anti-magic metal, which felt like it burnt the skin of a magic user just from contact, but they were taking no risks with her.

She would wonder how they managed to get so much dimeritium, but Radovid was clearly funding them extremely well.

Her arms and legs were shackled, with a collar around her neck as she was chained to the dimeritium bars of the cage, wincing at the contact as the torn shreds of her dress provided no protection or modesty, torn down to her waist, leaving her breasts exposed to the cold air and the enjoyment of her captors.

She hadn't been raped, a fate which had befallen quite a few of her female students, but that was because they didn't want to risk anything with her until she was safely in Deireadh, but the leers told her that wouldn't last.

She needed a miracle, and unfortunately, she was too old to believe in miracles anymore.

Wallowing in her despair, she paused as she saw some movement, not one of her captors coming to gawk or taunt her but a bird.

Normally it wouldn't attract her attention, they were deep in the countryside after all, but as the raven landed at the edge of her cage, staring at her with unnaturally intelligent mismatched red and violet eyes, she let her hope grow ever so slightly.

Was it a mage, shapeshifted into the form of a bird as Phillipa was so fond of doing?

Before she could speak up, a hunter approached the cage, shooing it away as the bird took to the air.

The hunter turned to her, eyes roaming her exposed body but as he went to speak, something white fell from the skies, splattering across his head and landing in his briefly opened mouth, and suddenly he had more to focus on than her as he tried to spit out the bird faeces.

Looking up, she saw the bird flying far overhead, and as the convoy started moving again, she kept her eyes on the skies, her hope blossoming ever so slightly as she spotted the same bird following them.