Infinity: Reborn

Lilith plummeted through the air, violet energy crackling around her as she locked onto the massive hydra dragon below. The creature’s twin heads tracked her descent, but she could see the primal fear in its eyes—the same terror that had frozen it moments before.

In Infinity, hydra dragons were formidable opponents even for experienced players. Their regenerative abilities and dual breath weapons made them dangerous adversaries that required careful strategy. She’d faced ancient specimens before, requiring every ounce of skill to dodge their devastating attacks while whittling down their health. But this one appeared to be an adult, not ancient—still deadly, but manageable.

Still, she wouldn’t take chances. Who knew how the mechanics translated to this reality? In the game, she could tank perhaps two direct breath attacks before needing healing. Here, everything could end in an instant.

Lilith raised the Sword of Gluttony above her head, its organic surface rippling with anticipation. The blade seemed to sense the approaching feast, emitting a low, hungry growl that harmonized with the wind rushing past her wings. She aimed for the fire-breathing head—the left one with amber eyes that had been incinerating Voso’s defenders moments before.

The dragon tried to rear back, but terror had made it sluggish. Lilith’s blade descended in a perfect arc, enhanced by her Hellblade class and supernatural strength. The blade’s edge met scaled flesh with surprising ease.

The head separated cleanly from the neck in a spray of crimson. No resistance, no need for follow-up strikes. The severed appendage tumbled to the plaza stones with a wet thud while the neck stump fountained blood.

Too easy. Far too easy.

Lilith had expected to need multiple slashes, perhaps even a prolonged battle of attrition. Was this the effect of her stacked classes? Or were hydra dragons somehow weaker in this reality than their game counterparts?

She spun in mid-air, wings adjusting her trajectory as she lined up for the second head. The frost-breathing one with blue-white eyes watched her approach with dawning horror. Its maw opened, preparing a desperate ice blast.

Then something completely unexpected happened.

The massive dragon crashed to the plaza stones belly-up, its remaining head pressed against the ground in submission. Its wings folded tight against its body, tail curled defensively around its hindquarters.

“Mercy! Great One, I beg mercy!”

Lilith pulled up short, hovering ten feet above the prostrate creature. Around the plaza, the sounds of battle had ceased entirely. Voso’s remaining defenders stared in disbelief. Some of Sseth’s forces prostrated themselves, others simply gaped, unable to process what they were witnessing.

A hydra dragon—apex predator, terror of the skies—grovelling like a beaten cur.

“I am bound!” the remaining head continued, its voice cracking with desperation. “Compelled beyond my will! I cannot disobey my master’s commands, but I mean you no personal offense, Great One!”

Lilith landed gracefully, her feet touching blood-slicked stone. The Sword of Gluttony vibrated in her grip, disappointed at being denied its second course. She studied the dragon’s massive form, noting the treasure embedded in its scales, the scars from countless battles.

In Infinity, there had been no items capable of controlling creatures this powerful. Tamer classes existed, but their abilities topped out at lesser drakes and wyverns. She’d never heard of anyone successfully binding a hydra dragon.

“What is your name?” she demanded, projecting authority despite her confusion.

“Mammon, Great One. I am called Mammon.”

The name meant nothing to her. This creature would have been born after her supposed reign, and hydra dragons typically avoided political entanglements. But having a dragon ally would prove invaluable—both for the practical advantages and the psychological impact on potential recruits.

“Who is your master? What binds you?”

“Demon Lord Valac,” Mammon whimpered, his massive form trembling. “He… he tricked me. A gem, he said. A treasure beyond compare. But when I swallowed it…”

The dragon’s voice trailed off, shame mixing with terror. Lilith frowned, pieces of a puzzle clicking together. Some form of control artifact, then. Magical compulsion that overrode the creature’s natural will.

She didn’t know if such bindings could be broken. In the game, status effects had simple counterspells or duration limits. But this seemed far more complex—a permanent magical enslavement that had lasted who knew how long.

Still, the opportunity was too valuable to ignore. A dragon at her side would make convincing others to join her cause significantly easier. The question was whether she possessed the power to sever whatever held Mammon in thrall.

“How long have you served Valac?” she asked, circling the prone dragon while keeping her sword ready.

“Centuries, Great One. Since he first captured me with his deception.”

Lilith weighed her options. Breaking the binding might be beyond her current abilities, but perhaps there were other approaches. Hydra dragons were inherently evil creatures who revelled in destruction—Mammon’s pleading didn’t change his fundamental nature. But evil could be redirected, channelled toward more useful targets.

The battle around them had devolved into confused murmurs and fearful whispers. She needed to act decisively, to seize control of this moment before uncertainty bred chaos.

* * *

Lilith spread her wings wide and ascended above the plaza, her coronet catching the light as she positioned herself where every demon could see her clearly. The blood-soaked stones below fell silent, hundreds of eyes tracking her movement through the air.

“Behold!” Her voice carried across the ancient stones, amplified by magic and authority. “I am Lilith Nocturia, Empress of Nocturne, The Demon Queen of Desire, and rightful Ruler of these lands!”

Gasps rippled through the assembled forces. Some demons immediately dropped to their knees, recognizing the legendary figure from ancient tales. Others stared in disbelief, their minds struggling to process the impossible sight before them.

“For a thousand years, you have squabbled in these ruins like scavengers fighting over scraps,” Lilith continued, her voice ringing with imperial command. “But no longer! I have returned to reclaim what was always mine, to restore—”

“Impossible!”

The harsh interruption shattered the moment’s gravity. Sseth pushed through the crowd, his serpentine features twisted with indignation and disbelief. His golden eyes blazed as he pointed an accusing finger skyward.

“This is some trick of Voso’s! An illusion spell, nothing more!” He whirled toward his troops, voice cracking with desperate authority. “The Empress vanished a millennium ago! This is merely some talented sorceress playing dress-up!”

Several of his soldiers shifted uncertainly, torn between their commander’s words and the primal fear radiating from the figure above. Sseth’s voice grew more frantic as he sensed their wavering loyalty.

“Mammon!” he shouted toward the prostrate dragon. “Remember your orders! Lord Valac commands you to eliminate all resistance! You still have one head remaining!”

The dragon’s surviving head lifted slightly, confusion and terror warring in its blue-white eyes. The magical compulsion pulled at its consciousness, demanding obedience, but the overwhelming presence above made every instinct scream submission.

Lilith’s expression darkened. Enough theatrics. Time for a practical demonstration.

“Mmhíira.”

The Word of Power struck Sseth like a physical blow. His mouth opened, working frantically, but no sound emerged. His hands flew to his throat, eyes widening in panic as he realized his voice had been stolen completely.

Good. The spell had worked perfectly—he was at least fifty levels weaker than her in terms of raw power. The old game mechanics might not apply directly anymore, but the fundamental principles of magical hierarchy remained intact.

“If I’m merely an illusion,” Lilith said, descending slowly toward the muted serpent, “then you won’t mind being killed by one, will you?”

Before Sseth could react, her hand shot out and clamped around his throat. Her fingers, deceptively delicate in appearance, possessed inhuman strength that lifted his entire body effortlessly. His feet left the ground as she ascended once more, carrying him into the air like a trophy.

Sseth thrashed wildly, clawing at her grip, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a landed fish. Terror replaced his earlier bravado as the reality of his situation became undeniably clear.

The assembled demons watched in fascinated horror as their Empress held one of Valac’s lieutenants helpless in her grasp, dozens of feet above the plaza stones.

“Rráayéeth.”

His voice returned in a rush of desperate gasps. “Please! Forgive me, Great Empress! I pledge myself to you! I’ll serve faithfully, I swear it!”

Lilith studied his face with cold calculation. The fear was genuine enough, but beneath it lurked the calculating look of someone already planning their next betrayal. Sseth possessed the expression of those who shifted allegiances as soon as opportunity presented itself—useful in the short term, but ultimately unreliable.

She should eliminate him. Yet he could serve as an excellent example of what happened to those who opposed her. Sometimes mercy proved more terrifying than immediate execution, especially when that mercy came with clear conditions.

But not today. Today called for an example. Example of what happens to those who oppose her.

Without warning, Lilith hurled Sseth high into the air above them. His scream echoed across the plaza as gravity claimed him, his serpentine form tumbling helplessly downward.

She extended her sword arm, and the Sword of Gluttony responded to her unspoken command.

“Gluchio,” she called out sweetly, “it’s time to eat.”

The blade’s seam split wide, revealing rows of gnashing teeth and a hungry maw. Sseth’s terrified pleas cut off abruptly as he plummeted directly into the weapon’s waiting jaws. The sword snapped shut with a wet crunch, swallowing the demon whole in one swift motion.

A few drops of blood spattered the plaza stones. Nothing else remained of Valac’s lieutenant.

Lilith lowered her arm, the sword purring contentedly as it returned to its normal appearance. She smiled down at the stunned crowd, her expression pleasant and conversational.

“Now then,” she said brightly, “where were we?”

* * *

The stunned silence stretched across the plaza like a held breath. Demons from both armies stood frozen, their minds struggling to process what they’d witnessed. Valac’s forces stared at the spot where their lieutenant had vanished, while Voso’s defenders looked between their unexpected saviour and their former enemies with equal bewilderment.

Lilith knew the shock wouldn’t last long. Soon questions would arise, challenges would emerge, and the delicate balance of terror and awe would shatter. But for now, everybody was too stunned to act—which meant she’d successfully stopped both Valac’s and Voso’s people from tearing each other apart.

On the flip side, she could now use both armies for Umbra’s restoration. Valac’s troops possessed superior training and equipment, while Voso’s followers brought scholarly knowledge and administrative experience. Combined, they’d form the foundation of her renewed empire.

Still, she would’ve preferred a quieter approach—slowly building her forces before anyone noticed her return. This dramatic revelation meant word would spread quickly, drawing attention from demon lords across the Wastelands. Every ambitious rival would soon know the Empress had returned.

But before addressing the crowds, there was a more urgent matter. Mammon.

She glanced down at the prostrate dragon. Already, pink flesh was sprouting from the severed neck stump where his fire head had been. Who knew how soon he’d resume his rampage under the gem’s influence?

Lilith descended, landing beside the massive creature’s remaining head. The blue-white eyes tracked her movement with a mixture of terror and desperate hope.

“Tell me about this gem,” she commanded. “What exactly did Valac do to you? How does it bind you?”

Mammon’s voice trembled as he spoke. “The binding runs deeper than mere compulsion, Great One. The gem has… merged with my essence. It whispers constantly, demanding obedience. When I try to resist, it sends waves of agony through every nerve. The pain grows stronger the more I fight.”

“Have you tried removing it?”

“I cannot.” The dragon’s massive head shook miserably. “Valac made it clear—if I ever attempt to expel the gem, it will kill me. The artifact is designed to destroy its host rather than allow freedom.”

Lilith frowned. “Are you certain that’s not a bluff? Valac would lose a valuable asset if the gem killed you.”

Mammon’s eyes closed in remembered agony. “I am certain, Great One. In the early years of my enslavement, desperation drove me to attempt expulsion. The pain I experienced was… unimaginable. Every scale felt like it was being flayed from my hide. My bones turned to molten lead. My blood became acid in my veins. I nearly died from the attempt alone.”

The dragon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “The gem showed me what death would feel like—slowly, over hours of torment. I never tried again.”

Lilith studied Mammon’s massive form, her mind racing through possibilities. The dragon’s description of the binding gem triggered a memory—not from this world, but from Infinity itself. There had been a quest involving a duchess cursed by a similar artifact, one that promised death if forcibly removed.

She remembered her first attempt at that quest vividly. In typical gamer fashion, she’d tried the direct approach—simply ripping the cursed necklace from the duchess’s throat. The NPC had collapsed immediately, writhing in agony before dying in her arms. Quest failed.

The second attempt had been more methodical. After consulting other NPCs in the quest chain, she’d learned the solution required a Remove Curse spell. Simple enough—cast it on the duchess, and the necklace had simply fallen away, powerless.

Perhaps the same principle applied here.

Lilith raised her hand toward Mammon, focusing her will. The incantation flowed from her lips in the ancient tongue, weaving threads of abjuration magic around the dragon’s massive form. She felt the spell take hold, its energy washing over Mammon like invisible waves.

But nothing happened.

The magic completed successfully—she could sense its power coursing through the dragon—yet no curse broke, no gem was expelled. The spell had found nothing to remove.

Mammon’s remaining head lifted slightly, blue-white eyes studying her with desperate hope. “What did you do, Great One? I felt… something warm.”

“Just a simple analysis spell,” Lilith replied smoothly, though her mind churned with frustration. “I needed to understand the nature of your binding to determine how best to help you.”

The lie came easily, but internally she grappled with a darker calculation. Having Mammon as an ally would be invaluable—a two-headed dragon commanded respect and fear throughout the Wastelands. But returning him to Valac’s control was absolutely unacceptable. If she couldn’t free him…

Mammon seemed to sense the shift in her thoughts. His massive body tensed, and she caught the faint scent of fear. The dragon was intelligent enough to recognize when his life hung in the balance, yet wise enough not to voice his terror.

Lilith forced herself to think back to that quest more carefully. The Remove Curse spell had worked, yes—but not when cast on the duchess herself. She remembered now: the quest dialogue had specifically mentioned targeting the item, not the person wearing it. The game’s mechanics hadn’t allowed such precision, but the lore had been clear.

The curse resided in the artifact itself, not in its victim.

But how could she target something inside Mammon’s stomach? An area-of-effect purification spell might work, but those required holy magic—divine power she didn’t possess. She could potentially crawl inside his belly, though the thought made her skin crawl.

Then another memory surfaced, one that made her pulse quicken with possibility.

Disjunction.

The supreme abjuration spell, twelfth circle magic that severed the fundamental connection between matter and magical forces. In Infinity, it had been the ultimate anti-magic weapon—capable of temporarily negating even the most powerful enchantments within its area of effect.

If the gem’s curse relied on magical binding, Disjunction would disrupt it completely. The spell wouldn’t destroy the artifact, but it would sever its magical connection to Mammon long enough for the dragon to expel it naturally.

There were risks, of course. The minute-long casting time would leave her vulnerable, and she could only use such powerful magic once per day. More importantly, she would be caught within her own spell’s effect—stripped of her magical abilities while surrounded by hundreds of demons who might see the momentary weakness as an opportunity.

But she retained her Hellblade abilities even without magic, and the Sword of Gluttony’s divine nature would protect it from the spell’s effects. She could still fight if necessary.

More significantly, casting twelfth circle magic would eliminate any remaining doubts about her identity. From Vespera, she learned that magic above the ninth circle was the domain of legends and gods. No pretender could wield such power.

“I’m going to attempt something,” Lilith announced, stepping back from Mammon. “This will either free you completely or…” She let the alternative hang unspoken.

Mammon’s eyes widened, but he nodded slowly. “I understand, Great One. Even death would be preferable to eternal servitude.”

Lilith spread her wings and raised her arms, feeling the familiar weight of supreme magic gathering around her. The ancient words of power formed in her mind—syllables that predated mortal civilization, sounds that reality itself recognized as commands.

The assembled demons fell silent as otherworldly energy began to coalesce around their Empress. Even those who had never witnessed magic beyond the fifth circle could sense something momentous building.

Lilith drew a deep breath and spoke the first words of the incantation, her voice carrying across the plaza with unnatural resonance:

“Síira óova káama, rráayéethmya tíiva yáaruna…”