The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

My room was pure bliss. The demons referred to the establishment as an inn, but it beat the vast majority of hotels I remembered from my original life.

The room was clean, cleverly appointed with everything I might have wanted, and had a wonderful view of the demonic city outside. The bathroom was the most spotless one I ever used in my entire existence, and it had all the modern amenities I was used to, including flawless plumbing.

Well, it was spotless until I got my grubby hands on it. My clothing, and equipment were covered in blood and dirt, and I wasn’t going to walk away until everything was as clean as I could make it.

I got to see the real magic of the inn, however, when the hot water refused to run out. As with the meat skewer stall, I realized they were probably using the dice-form souls to fuel all these conveniences. Once again, I found it difficult to care. I was adapting to my new life surprisingly fast, especially after the life and death moments I had experienced.

Once I was done with my gear and tried to clean up the mess I made, I took a luxurious shower. To feel the dirt, blood, and sweat slough off my body was a heavenly experience, like I finally understood what it meant to be reborn.

The demons had outfitted the bathroom with a floor-to-ceiling mirror, so I also got a good, long look at my new body.

To be perfectly honest, I looked good. My body was tall and muscular, and it definitely belonged to someone who had spent their entire life under a careful regime of exercise and diet. In other words, I looked nothing like my original self. I had spent my entire previous life ping-ponging between obesity and unhealthy thinness, depending on my mental and physical health at the time.

My lips twisted in a bitter smile. It was true that this new physique came with a whole lot of violent strings attached. But I couldn’t deny the pang of arrogance and avarice that went through me as I stared at the mirror.

Hayden’s body was mine now.

On my way to bed, I spotted my dagger and somewhat-repaired sword, lying on a table with my other gear. A jolt of desire raced through my muscles, pushing me to snatch up the weapons and start practicing. I was honestly proud of myself when I quashed the urge with relative ease and collapsed into bed instead.

Now that I was aware of the little ’gifts’ the soul surgery had given me, it was easier to manage them. I was still reaching for things with my left hand first, but I could catch and correct myself mid-motion.

I knew it shouldn’t be a big deal. Who would care if I became left-handed? Still, giving in to the skill’s side effects felt like losing a piece of me I would never get back. I wanted to hang onto each piece for as long as possible.

Despite that troubling thought, I fell into slumber feeling warm, comfortable, and safe.

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Hours later, a jolt of pain ripped through my body, tearing me out of a dream where shadowy figures chased me relentlessly. One second I was beating them off, managing to avoid the clutch of their bony fingers — and then I was wide awake, writhing in my sheets as agony gripped every inch of me.

I was vaguely aware of a horn blaring over the city, but I couldn’t pay attention. I was a little preoccupied by the pain threatening to shatter my mind into a million pieces.

Then, all at once, the agony fled. Its source became apparent as my awareness returned. The brand on my palm stung in a way that was hard to describe. When I reached out to rub it, a message popped up in my head. No clear phrases or even words, but I got the gist easily enough.

Assemble in front of the city’s inner keep in one hour.

There was no ’or else’ kind of threat attached to the message. Then again, the order had been conveyed through an intense, inescapable wave of pain. Every recipient knew exactly what the sender could do if we disobeyed.

I dressed in a hurry.

I had laid out my clothing to dry in the bathroom the night before. They were still slightly damp, but it wasn’t like I had a closet full of options to choose from.

A gear check was next in the checklist of things to do, and here I purposefully slowed down. Uncomfortably damp pants were one thing, but neglecting my sword or dagger in some small way could cost me in moments of danger. I strongly suspected this caution was mostly the result of my soul surgery escapades. For once, I didn’t care.

Having checked my gear, and resolving to purchase some weapon oil and proper maintenance tools when I had the chance, I rushed out of my room and down to the inn’s foyer.

"Ah, dear customer." The same receptionist from yesterday greeted me with a smile, then motioned towards a low table set up by the door. "We were able to confirm that you and many of our other customers would be leaving us rather early. As such, we arranged for a breakfast that would be easy to eat on the go."

I thanked the two receptionists profusely, especially after walking up to the table. It was covered with bundles of food, carefully wrapped, and they assured me I could take a whole bundle for myself. Nice wrapping included. This was exceptional service.

Breakfast in hand, I was on my way. The meal consisted of two whole loaves of bread, each stuffed chock-full of cold cuts, veggies, and cheese. I’d never had a fancier or better sandwich. The bread was still warm, something that really helped me get moving.

The Apple Infernal had earned itself a new loyal customer.

I arrived at the destination of our summons with half an hour to spare. My speedy arrival was partly due to the fact that the inn was blessedly close to the city’s heart.

A much bigger factor was one of my newly absorbed skills.

Body Strengthening (Basic) was everything I’d hoped it would be, and more. Keeping the technique running at low intensity gave me a steady boost to every bodily function and significantly improved my endurance. Thanks to Hayden’s natural talent for drawing in and manipulating mana, strengthened by whatever the demons did to us during induction, I could keep the technique working almost indefinitely during waking hours.

Theoretically, it was possible to develop the technique to the point of being able to run it while asleep too. Something to work on later.

My punctuality gave me plenty of time to inspect the demonic officials already gathered in the small plaza in front of the keep. I spotted Naberius, the commander, first. Casual eavesdropping told me his actual title was Grand General. That sounded like a title far too lofty for a man leading a bunch of new recruits into their first battle, but I simply filed the knowledge away and moved on.

Under Naberius, I managed to identify five different lieutenants. They were a fascinating study in opposites.

The loudest and most rambunctious of the lot was a short, purple-skinned demon with a petite build and horns that were so large, I wondered how he stayed upright. His weapon was a massive hammer. It was three times his own height and probably six times his weight, but he carried it easily on one shoulder.

He was chatting happily with two demonesses, both of whom were green-skinned with deer-like horns. Something told me they were sisters, but then again, maybe I was being accidentally racist or something. I knew nothing about demonic subtypes. One of the two had a bow slung over her back, and the other sported a pair of daggers.

The last two lieutenants only engaged with the others when spoken to. Even then, they were dismissive unless the speaker was Naberius himself.

I soon observed, though, that they had wholly different reasons for this shared attitude.

One, a golden demon in resplendent silver robes, just looked bored and sleepy. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, he seemed about to pass out from utter exhaustion at any moment. Now, I didn’t know much about demons, but I did know they didn’t require traditional rest. That meant there was more going on with this golden demon than met the eye.

The other demon, in many way the quintessential ’stereotype’ for the species, was simply a dour and unpleasant individual. His red skin, massive horns, leathery wings, and cloven hooves went to complete the classic ’looming death machine’ look. The massive buster sword he was carrying certainly didn’t help.

I tried to be subtle with my glances, but after the commander gave me a smile and one of the sisters sent me a saucy wink, I contented myself with staring at my shoes until the appointed time came.

No one was foolish enough to be late. Even the last arrival got there about fifteen minutes before the time limit.

"We have no tardy recruits this time around," the general mused as he stepped out in front of the group, sweeping his eyes over us. "Good. The demonstration of what happens to insubordinate soldiers always gets so… messy. As is, we can simply proceed."

I noticed instantly that both the dour red demon and one of the sisters looked downright disappointed that no disciplining was necessary.

"The reason you’re here today is because I cannot keep you under my direct command. I have much greater obligations, I’m sad to say. So, you will be joining one of the five illustrious sergeants you might have noticed already. They will be your direct superiors from now on, until you either advance or die. If you advance, you will be reallocated to more fitting leadership."

The demons behind him snickered ominously, but Naberius paid them no mind.

Taking advantage of the pause, I glanced around through the corners of my eye. Plenty of my fellow soldiers were quick to perk up at the mention of potential promotions. I wanted to scoff. There was no way we would advance until after fully converting to demons, and that was a very long-term goal for scrubs like us. No, whoever we got assigned to, we’d be stuck with them for a long time to come.

Or, you know, for a very short time. Until our untimely demise.

The general continued, "Now, one of the legion scribes will step forward and start a roll call. When your name is called, you will be directed to the sergeant who will take charge of you and your training for the foreseeable future. I expect you to be polite and quiet as you make your way over to them. I want no fuss. You will get your orders from your sergeant afterward. Good luck, soldiers."

The ’you’ll need it’ implication was clear as Naberius strolled out of the plaza.

A reedy demon in a frumpy outfit took his place. The scribe demon immediately started calling out names and directing the soldiers on where to go, but my eyes were on the five demons as they fanned out, leaving plenty of distance between each other.

The short hellion and the sisters looked excited, or at least eager to get their new soldiers. The sleepy one was, well, sleepy. The red murder machine, however, was full-on glowering at the humans who were sent his way.

Just not him. Just not him. Please not him. I repeated the words again and again in my head, even if I was already resigned to my horrible luck.

Then, finally, the scribe announced, "Hayden Hall, assigned to Sergeant Wilhelmina."

I walked over to the excitedly clapping demoness, shock coursing through my system. This was luck I didn’t expect, enough that I wondered if perhaps lady luck was shining on me. She quickly directed me to the rows of soldiers already assigned to her. We were located right next to the grumpy demon’s troops, so I got to watch them squirm as the sorting continued.

When the process was finally complete, our hyperactive sergeant skipped off to convene with her sibling. I watched the neighboring commander approach his troops.

"Right, you sorry lot," he growled. "Because of the general’s kindness, I’m now stuck with you. Get ready to suffer because I will not tolerate such miserable troops under me. For the next month, you’ll be lucky if you can walk back to the barracks after training. I’ll personally make sure you’ll be crawling there, until you’re at least halfway decent cannon fodder!"

He finished the words with a roar, clearly displeased. Still, for some reason, a part of me unclenched. Even the worst option didn’t seem that bad anymore.

Movement caught my eye, and I stood straighter. My own commander was back from her chat with her sister.

"Right! Well, isn’t this exciting! I’ve got so many little humans under my command," the woman chirped. "Oh, we simply must produce results! I have a bet going with my sister on who can cause more havoc! So, come along now. We need to fetch the rest of my troops, and then we have some locals to hunt down!"

My body obeyed as she led us away, constantly upping the marching tempo. My mind, however, was caught in a spiral.

Did I maybe, possibly, pray to avoid the wrong commander?