Episode-921
Chapter : 1841
"Like I said," Lloyd replied, leaning against a pillar to catch his breath, maintaining his professional distance. "Maintenance. Don't get used to it. The sludge will start building up again the moment you stop moving. You have a week, maybe two, before you need another flush."
Monalisa smiled. It was a real smile, rare and beautiful. "A week is an eternity for someone who has slept for centuries. I will not waste it."
She raised her hand. The shadows in the corner of the room began to swirl. They twisted and turned, forming a dark, spiraling doorway.
"You kept your word, Doctor. So I will keep mine."
She pointed to the portal. "This is a Shadow Path. It is a secret vein of the Abyss that connects the territories. It bypasses the border guards, the checkpoints, and the toll bridges. It will deposit you directly into the outskirts of the Gluttony State."
She snapped her fingers, and three small, bat-like creatures materialized from the air. They were Imps, but they looked transparent, like ghosts.
"These are my Eyes," Monalisa explained. "They are part of my intelligence network. Take them. They know where Rubel is hiding. They tell me he has sought refuge in Gator City, under the protection of Beelzebub."
Lloyd nodded, accepting the information. "Gator City. Beelzebub. Of course, he went to the biggest eater to hide. That makes sense."
"Rubel is no longer just running," Monalisa warned, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "He has offered something to Beelzebub in exchange for power. He is dangerous now. But..." She pulled back, her eyes raking over Lloyd’s chest plate. "I suspect you two are worse."
"We'll see," Lloyd said. He signaled to the door. "Ben, unlock it. We're leaving."
Ben released his Stasis field and the hold on the door hinges. The grey aura vanished. He walked over, his heavy boots thudding on the floor. He didn't bow to the Demon Prince. He simply looked her up and down, unimpressed.
"You look less dusty," Ben commented dryly. "Try not to break yourself again. I don't want to come back here. The decor is depressing."
Monalisa laughed, a clear, bell-like sound. "Go, Iron Knight. Keep your mechanic safe." She looked at Lloyd one last time, her eyes flashing. "If he dies, I will be very upset. I might have to destroy the world if I cannot get my tune-up next week. And Lloyd... I still owe you that dance."
"I'll keep that in mind," Lloyd said dryly.
He walked to the Shadow Path. He paused for a moment, looking back at the pile of black dust on the floor—the physical proof of his success. He had turned a divine curse into a pile of dirt. It was a good day's work for an engineer.
"See you in a week, Monalisa," Lloyd said. "Try to get some exercise. Maybe go for a jog. It helps with the circulation."
With that final piece of medical advice, Lloyd stepped into the swirling darkness of the portal. Ben followed him, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all, and the shadows swallowed them whole, whisking them away from the Palace of Stillness and toward the hungry jaws of the Gluttony State.
The transition from the territory of Sloth to the territory of Gluttony was not instantaneous. It happened gradually as Lloyd Ferrum and Ben Ferrum moved through the "Shadow Path." This path was a secret tunnel that existed beneath the surface of the Abyss, a hidden vein of darkness that bypassed the usual border guards and toll bridges. It was a strategic asset provided by Monalisa Belphagor, though Ben suspected she only offered it to get them out of her throne room faster so she could enjoy her newfound mobility.
The tunnel was quiet, but it wasn't a peaceful quiet. It was the silence of a deep bunker where the air felt heavy, recycled, and old. The walls were made of swirling grey mist that looked solid but felt cold and damp if you touched it, like wet concrete that refused to set.
Lloyd walked in front, his black coat blending into the shadows. He looked calm, maintaining that familiar, bored expression that masked a mind running a thousand simulations a second. Beside him, Ben, the Ironwood Sovereign, walked with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a mechanized infantry unit. Ben was a large man, encased in heavy, jagged armor that he had forged himself. His prosthetic limbs didn't hum with polite magic; they radiated a low, gravitational pressure that warped the air around him.
Chapter : 1842
"Intel check," Ben said, his voice echoing slightly in the tunnel. It wasn't a question; it was a demand for a sit-rep. "Monalisa’s network claims Rubel is in Gator City. Guest of honor status. That implies leverage."
"He has value," Lloyd replied, his tone flat and sarcastic. "Or at least, he thinks he does. Rubel is a traitor who knows the secrets of the Ferrum family. He knows about our defenses, our economy, and our magic. To a Devil Prince who wants to invade the surface world, Rubel isn't a meal yet. He is a technical manual."
Ben scoffed, the sound like a grinder hitting stone. "He’s a walking data breach. Beelzebub doesn't host humans; he consumes them. If Rubel is alive, it’s because he’s dripping feeding the enemy our proprietary secrets. It makes me sick. I should have crushed his skull back at the estate when I had the chance."
"Rubel always had a big appetite," Lloyd muttered. "He wanted the Duchy. He wanted power. It makes sense that he ran to the Prince of Gluttony. He probably fits right in with all the other hungry monsters. I bet they swap recipes on how to cook a betrayal."
They continued walking for another hour until the grey mist of the tunnel began to change. The air grew warmer. It started to smell different. The clean, dusty smell of the Sloth territory faded away, replaced by something thick, humid, and sweet. It smelled like overripe fruit that had fallen on the ground and started to rot in the sun. It smelled like wet iron and sugar.
"Exfiltration point ahead," Lloyd warned, checking his HUD. He stopped walking and turned to Ben. "We can't go out there looking like this. Two humans in shiny, high-grade armor walking into the land of Gluttony is like driving a tank through a library. It draws fire. We need to go dark."
Lloyd raised his hand, and a small ripple appeared in the air. He opened his "Spatial Inventory," a pocket dimension where he stored his supplies. He reached in and pulled out a bundle of strange clothes.
"Catch," Lloyd said, tossing a pile of dark, oily leather to Ben.
Ben caught the bundle with his prosthetic hand, his grip crushing the fabric slightly. He inspected it with a critical eye. The material felt slick and warm, as if it had recently been peeled off a living creature. "Demon leather. Swamp Stalker hide. Decent thermal insulation, but the durability is trash. Still, better than sticking out like a beacon."
"It masks the visual signature," Lloyd explained as he began to unbutton his own coat. "But visual isn't enough. We need to scrub our scent."
Lloyd pulled out two small glass vials. The liquid inside was a murky, bubbling green. He popped the cork on one, and immediately, a terrible stench filled the tunnel. It smelled like rotten eggs, burnt hair, and old garbage water.
Ben didn't gag. He didn't flinch. He simply sniffed the air once, analyzing the chemical composition, and nodded approvingly. "Sulfur, ammonia, and... fermented bio-waste. It smells like the trenches in Sector 4 after a chemical strike. Standard operating procedure for infiltration. Good."
"It’s 'Eau de Goblin'," Lloyd joked, keeping a straight face. "Or at least, a very strong alchemical imitation of high-level demon sweat. Apply it to the armor joints and the neck. If we smell like soap and fresh air, every monster within ten miles will try to eat us."
Efficiently, Ben applied the foul-smelling liquid to his armor and skin. He treated it like applying camouflage paint before a mission, rubbing the grime into the crevices of his steel limbs. He pulled on the dark leather cloak and adjusted the hood. Lloyd did the same. He also handed Ben a mask. The mask was made of bone and leather, shaped to look like the face of a low-level demon. It had short, twisted horns and a wide, painted mouth.
"Masks up," Ben said, securing the bone plate over his face. "Radio silence on the mana channels unless we engage."
"Check," Lloyd said, putting on his own mask—one that looked like a demonic frog with too many eyes. "Ready to play the part, Lord Ironwood?"
"I’m always ready to play the villain," Ben grunted. "Let's move."
They reached the end of the tunnel. A swirling portal of red light waited for them. Lloyd stepped through first, and Ben followed, his hand resting on the hilt of his heavy blade.