I love my family!

And that is that!

– Full text written on a cave wall by Goddess Fer, of Beasthood.

Kassandora felt a cool breeze fall over her over her face. Not the cool breeze that always permeated the underground that the dwarves called their home but the cool breeze that existed up above. She smiled to herself. Was she dead? No. The afterlife she deserved was some burning pit of coals, so she couldn’t possibly be dead. Kassandora opened her eyes and found herself bound. Thick pieces of Tartarian blacksteel, the sort of rods that would have been used to reinforce concrete in foundations, had been wrapped around her ankle and her wrist and then looped together to make her sit uncomfortably, with her knees brought up almost to her chin.

Kassandora saw a beam of light come from high above, although it was just a single sliver. She was in some tent. Her eyes scanned the stone floor, that was classic, her own men did not bother to lay rugs either. And then she saw the single figure sitting on a large steel crate. The crate would have been large enough to hold a good piece of furniture, but the demon atop it was large enough to treat it like a chair. He sat in plate armour of Tartarian blacksteel but he took helmet off. It was the face of a dead man, with the skin turned to different shades of forgotten grey. The lips were pale white, but cracked as if they had never experienced a drop of wetness. Still though, there were traces of the figure underneath, once, it would have been handsome. The jawline was sharp and defined, the cheekbones were just high enough, the eyes were at a perfect height. It could only be one person. “Oh.” Furcas said, his voice a low growl. “You’re awake.”

For a few moments, Kassandora thought of what to do and then she thought about what she was doing herself. A normal person would panic. A normal person would not scheme. A normal person would not be using the facet of being a prisoner to gather information. Kassandora was not a normal person. There was something fundamentally wrong with her. “I am awake.” Kassandora said as she tested the blacksteel. Strong. Given enough time, she would probably be able to unbend it, but that time would be measured in weeks or months. Kassandora didn’t know whether she hated or she loved the fact her mind immediately went to trying to build rapport with the demon, whilst at the same time trying to hide the fact. “These are thick.”

Furcas smiled to himself. “Are you testing them?” He spoke in decent old Rheman. The language wasn’t common anymore, but it was understandable enough to all the Epan nations. During the Great War, the Empire had used it so Kassandora could understand him easily.

“Wouldn’t you?” Kassandora asked in return and the demon that was both and alive chuckled in that husky voice of his.

“Of course I would.” He said. “And I would probably break it.”

“Did you do this?”

“Do you think there’s someone else who could?” The demon answered back rather proudly and Kassandora made a note of the information. The demon was boasting of course, but boasting had a habit of being too sincere and too truthful. He had just confirmed there was no one else as strong as him in this army.

Kassandora chose an aggressive strategy. Something that was petty and weak, yet argumentative enough to bait Furcas into more boasting. “I didn’t know your name when we fought, why do you think I would remember the names of your compatriots?”

Furcas chuckled to himself. “You know of Legion, Be’elzebub and Mammon. Mammon has confirmed it.”

“We fought against each other.” Kassandora replied. “You were simply not memorable enough.”

Furcas sighed and shook his head. “You are a treat.”

Kassandora made a theatrical show of blowing crimson hair out of her face and smiling at the demon. “I try to be.” The question came instinctively, there was no pause, and it was the perfect way to extract more information out of the demon. Kassandora imagined this was some disease of the mind, but she was simply unable to panic or weep for herself. The fact she was bound in Tartarian rebar was just another problem to solve. “Why have you not killed me yet?” Kassandora asked.

Furcas’ cold, lifeless eyes bulged and his mouth fell open for a moment before he caught himself. “Do you want me to?” He asked, his voice filled with curiosity. In that moment, Kassandora knew she had caught him.

“I’m just asking logically. Why have you not killed me? The worst-case scenario for you right now is that I escape.” Kassandora answered. Normal people did not argue for their own death.

Furcas shook his head and looked down at the ground. “Why do you think I am here? You are not as strong physically as we thought you were. You cannot escape whilst I watch over you.”

Kassandora knew she had to drive the sword deeper. She knew she wasn’t pushing it far enough. “I meant why keep me alive in the first place? I would just kill me.” Kassandora answered and Furcas laughed.

“Would you really just execute a valuable prisoner just like that?” He asked. Another slip up. If she was valuable, then that meant Tartarus was open to diplomacy. The only reason they would be open to diplomacy was if they didn’t have total military might. It made sense though, until Furcas showed up, the Second Expedition had not lost a single battle. Modern weaponry, modern tanks and modern tactics were simply too effective against demons that still thought charging into battle and waving a cleaver around was some sort of tactic.

“What would I gain from capturing myself?” Kassandora pushed the boundary. If she had caught herself, she would just leave the room and not bother talking. Frankly, she didn’t believe what the demon said about needing to stay here to make sure she could not escape. The rebar was strong enough already, any idiot would be able to see that. Kassandora had revealed the extent of her strength in that final attack, Furcas should be able to tell that she would not be able to escape. There had to be a different reason. And the answer that Kassandora’s mind settled on was the sort of simplicity that other Divines would throw away because it was too simple and too easy. Stil though, Kassandora had found that the simplest of answers were the most likely to be true.

Furcas was curious about her. She was the glorious Goddess of War after all. She was the single soul responsible for Tartarian defeats a thousand years ago, even with their greater numbers and greater natural strength, they had still lost battles and Legions against her. Furcas confirmed her suspicions with his answer. “Are you not a great commander?” He asked. “What would you not gain from capturing yourself?”

“I’m too loyal a woman to give you advice Furcas.” Kassandora replied. It was feigned pettiness, and she made sure her voice was stern, yet not steadfast. There was a slight quiver in it Furcas would catch. Being too friendly too quickly would be suspicious.

“You don’t need to be loyal Kassandora.” Furcas answered and Kassandora saw the routes she should go down as naturally as she would see leading an army into an engagement.

“What, are you going to pick my brain then? Transplant my soul maybe? I’m still me.” She purposefully made farcical suggestions to serve as bait. Furcas took them.

“Do you think we’re just going to eat you alive?” The demon answered in too apologetic a tone. Kassandora narrowed him down to an archetype so quickly that even she felt dirty about herself. This was not how normal people should act whatsoever.

“Are you not?” Kassandora asked. “You are demons after all.” She glared at the demon. He was not hard to crack whatsoever. The fact that he sighed was just confirmation she had nailed him down.

“We don’t eat people alive.” Furcas replied. “What happens in war happens in war, your side was just as terrible as ours.” What was he seeking? Redemption for his atrocities? Or maybe trying to pull Kassandora into the same circle of guilt he was in? The demon couldn’t be that stupid, could he not realise instinctively that the Goddess of War would not care of such things?

“Well I thank you for that.” Kassandora replied sarcastically. She knew she was getting under his skin and she knew the topic had to be redirected. So she made the best informed guess she could. Was it terrible that there was no reasoning? That it was just pure gut feeling and experience? Some things, one could not explain, they simply knew they were hitting the target. “Just so you know, killing me is the one way to make sure that my father exterminates your kind.”

Furcas laughed to himself. “Do you think we don’t know that?”

And there it was. So they were afraid. So they did want to negotiate. So she was worth more to them alive rather than dead. So this whole show had been farce. Kassandora chose a tactic immediately, simply the first one that came to her mind. Still though, she made sure to frame her question as purely one of intellectual rigour rather than of a spy. Maybe even there was some moral decency thrown into there, although Kassandora didn’t know if she herself was capable of such a thing. “Did the Great War scar you that much?” She asked calmly, even inclining her head forward.

Frankly, there was something terrible about this. Kassandora hoped she wasn’t like this around her family and around Kavaa. Furcas replied quickly. “We call it the Arascan War.”

“Why?”

“Who started it?”

Kassandora did not need to feign the smile. The demon had caught her there, did he not? “It’s only a war if both sides engage.”

“Are you suggesting one rolls over for an invader?” Furcas asked.

“If the invader is me then I see no reason as to why they should not.”

Furcas was fully engaged into the conversation. This style of talk was working on him, Kassandora could see it well. “Are you stupid or dishonest or what?” The undying demon asked. “Would you ever do that?”

“Do not moralize to me demon.” Kassandora answered back. “You have waged war against the dwarves for a millennia.” Pure bait, but an honourable warrior needed to defend his honour, did he not? It would not be honour if it was not worth defending.

“If we waged war, the dwarves would already be extinct. This was not war, it was a deal struck.” Furcas answered back angrily. Kassandora, for once, was struck with surprise. A deal? With whom? And what about? What was this even?

So she did the most natural thing before the demon realised he spilled valuable information. Kassandora, if only for a moment, changed topics. It was a disengagement which would allow for another way to strike at the demon’s weakness. “Mmh.” Kassandora replied as she tried to seem both unimpressed and as if she missed the detail. She led the demon away from his mistake by falsifying her own. “I hope you’re not going to give me back to Allasaria.”

Furcas shook his head. “Why would I?” He asked and Kassandora nodded to the beam of light coming in through the curtains.

“Is that not sunlight?” Kassandora asked.

Furcas chuckled to himself. “It impresses me how intelligent you are.” He said. “If you were born in Tartarus, you would have gone far.”

“Shame for you I wasn’t.” Kassandora answered. “But it is sunlight?”

“We’re just waiting for transport. This is the rift.” Kassandora thought for a moment and… wait. Wasn’t the answer obvious?

“We call it the crack.” Kassandora answered. “You mean the point between Epa and Arika where the continents were split?”

“Do you know what caused it?” Furcas asked.

“And here I thought it was you.” Kassandora shamelessly fed the demon a lie. But there was no need for him to know Elassa had been behind Continent Cracking, was there? Unlike Furcas, Kassandora was rather paranoid with her information.

“Well it seems we’re both out of luck then.” Furcas answered. “For the sake of your world, I hope it is something your people can control.”

Kassandora shrugged as much as the bindings would allow her to shrug. “We’re working on it. Less so now that I’m not there.” Another lie, but she doubted Furcas would catch it. The man was a knight through and through. Once you learned how to extract information from one chivalrous swinger of swords, you learned how to extract information from all of them. She asked the question directly, something that would obviously be a mistake, but something would be inconsequential as well. “You can see behind yourself, can’t you?”

Furcas smiled with so much pride that he gave away the fact he was bad at lying. “I am simply good at fighting.” He said and it took all of Kassandora’s energy not to roll her eyes. Kassandora opened her mouth when a demon suddenly ran into the tent.

No protocol. Kassandora remembered from spies that they did have protocol in the past. Either they’ve degenerated or it was urgent. She didn’t bother to hide the fact she was inspecting the newcomer, trying to appear innocent would be far more guilty than just being honest with who she was. The demon was young, with armour not of blacksteel but some leather. Wings stuck out of his back, horrible things of flesh and more leather. He had something resembling a musket condensed down to a pistol on his belt and a shortsword on the other. They were behind then, this officially confirmed it. Tartarus had those huge steel automaton things, but they were powered by batteries of magma.

Kassandora blinked and realised what their missing link was. They had advanced pneumatics and something equivalent to, if not, electricity, but they lacked smokeless gunpowder. The crude, rough, Tartarian language had changed overtime, but not to the point that what Kassandora remembered from her time in the Great War was useless. She caught a frantic spouting: “Manus.” Something, something. “Here come.” Something something.

But from context and nothing else, it was obviously not Manus coming here. The demon would not be so panicked just because an elite of their royalty was attending. Not unless they were having internal strife bordering on civil war but somehow, Kassandora doubted that theory. It was just too farcical with nothing to back it.

Furcas’ reaction was too at ease as well. He sighed and stood up, rolling her shoulders in a stretch and straightening his back. “I enjoyed our conversation.” He said. “Granted, you are not an easy person to talk to.”

“I think I am.” Kassandora quickly interjected.

Furcas did not reply to her. “Mmh. You will have to indulge me though, Goddess of War. You would have done the exact same in our situation, the deal we were given back then was simply too favourable. Allasaria is grand, but she is not a good negotiator.”

“Is that how you speak of your allies?” Kassandora asked.

“I speak honestly. We pushed for you to be put to the sword back then. You were not. Now the situation entails we cannot put you to the sword. So be it. Powers higher than me have decided it.”

“I didn’t know I’m so important.” That was such a blatant lie even Furcas did not buy it. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel★fire.net

“I have matters to attend to now so I will leave you with one thing to mull over. We call it the Arascan War, you call it the Great War. That says more about you than it does about us.” Kassandora watch him leave without comment. There was nothing to say. She would say it to Malam to get an opinion but Kassandora simply did not engage in politics. Or maybe, even further, she did not even bother believing in politics. At the end of the day, she just won. Politics and morality were ponds downstream of warfare. Instead, she just sat there and wondered what had pulled the demon away.

The answer came soon enough. Bays and bawls and screams and shouts. Howls and roars. Sounds that were made not by men and not by beasts but something in-between.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep