Demonic City Builder [LitRPG, Kingdom Building]

“Is it finally time?” asked Sythara.

“Just about, my dear. Just about,” said Kairon. They left the citadel district, the chitters and orders being shouted about still audible. The ichor well had become a frenzy of activity, between his plans for Bean and the warriors enlisted in brown squadrons, as well as the rest of his wrath army.

A flurry of small explosions sounded behind them, followed by a bellowing roar of amusement.

No more than a clawful of moments later, he heard Vorathrex’s parting words. “Fledgling, you’ve done well!” he shouted. “This is very good! Hah!”

Kairon simply waved an arm above his head, not even bothering to turn around.

“Child, are you certain we can trust the oaf near the well?” asked the demoness in worry.

“He is of wrath, Sythara. Besides, I left Nod there. He might just be the only one besides me that can control him. Well. Maybe Shiny too. But I need him keeping our workforce operating as optimally as possible.”

The duo quickly passed the wrath spawning grounds, before heading into the violet stone of the void district. On it, two more spawning grounds waited. These, however, were eager. Twin portals were just about ready to release the very first void imps to this world.

“Say, Sythara. Now that we finished another brand, and with some new helpers on the way, when do you think you’ll be able to resume our next research project?”

“In time, child. In time. The shapes I lost mean I can hold less of the plane’s communion. I will need at least another day to recover and adjust, if not more.”

That really didn’t surprise Kairon. His void councilor had required several days the first time around, and this second one she’d made quite the sacrifice. “Two days is fine. Truly, Sythara. I appreciate what you did. Besides, that should give us more time to start funneling in more void imps to assist you. If we could hit that seventy percent comprehension rate, it would be massive. Those choices were truly a game changer for our development.”

His only reply was a brief flick of a demonic tentacle.

The two fell into silence. They sat, staring into the growing energies of the circles. Kairon, back against the stones, and Sythara, muttering something to her dark tendrils of the void.

***

Population +1 — Void Imp

Population +1 — Void Imp

The notifications startled Kairon awake. Without realizing, his eyelids had grown heavy and he’d dozed off.

“Oh—goodness!” He struggled to his feet, grasping his staff. “Welcome! Welcome!”

Where violet energies of the void had been gathering, two new void imps now stood. The city lord approached them eagerly, studying the newly born creatures.

“Masterrrr!” spoke the first. His voice was softer and more raspy than the other imps’. It had a faint sing-song note to it. Yet, off. Like each tune was out of order.

“Greetings,” said the other.

Both inched forward cautiously, exploring their new surroundings. Unlike the brood and wrath imps, their skin wasn’t the hallmark crimson Kairon had come to know. Instead, it was dark purple and black. Its pitch nearly matched that of the void stone below.

Additionally, thin cowls made of crude brown fabric covered the imps’ heads and shoulders, stopping at their upper torso. Flat, pointy ears stuck out through small holes, pink flesh visible on their inner portions. As he got within arm’s reach, Kairon bent down, inspecting one of the new imps.

Instead of claws, they had four fingered hands with elongated talons on the end—somewhat reminiscent of Sythara herself. Along their back, their half cowls draped off into ragged tears, like they’d been carelessly crafted and thrown upon them.

Yet, most fascinating of all were their eyes. Or, where their eyes should be. Beneath their hoods, it was like looking at a miniature galaxy. When Kairon peered at the imp in front of him, he saw naught but the void of dark. It was only broken by speckled dots and nebulae, like watching the night sky. On their upper face, two twin stars blazed bright.

Seeing Kairon so close, they winked in and out of existence. It took him a moment to fully realize that those were, in fact, eyes after all.

He drew his gaze downwards, to the bent thighs and bared skin of the void imps’ legs. They were short and scrawny, like that of the brood, ending in clawed feet with three long nails on the end.

“Well,” breathed Kairon, “you certainly resemble the void I’m coming to know.” He turned, finding the crossed arms of his demoness observing him. “Sythara! Come over here and greet our first voidlings!”

“Voidddd,” whispered the one in front of him.

“The void,” said the second, skittering up to join them. It didn’t walk so much as prowl, moving half on its hands and half on its legs. Like some kind of monkey. It climbed atop one of the circles of the spawning grounds, staring down at Kairon. “Speak of void? Master?”

“Call the voidddd?” asked the first.

“Wait wait wait. What do you mean call the void?” Kairon interjected.

From behind, a rueful chuckle sounded. Sythara, apparently, was quite amused at this.

“You want call?” the first imp on the ground repeated. “I’d like to—”

“Hush!” said the other. “Master not say. Listennnn. We listennn.”

“Void…” echoed the second.

Shaking its cowled head, the first turned to Kairon. “Ignore him. Not understand. The plane vast…”

The stark difference between the two’s initial attitudes brought back fond memories of Kairon’s first day in this world. Of how Shiny too had acted so differently. He’d organized the sticks, been drawn to the gold, and showed more intelligence than any other imp.

“Call,” tried the first again.

“No!” snapped the one on the stone. “Hush!”

The other imp made some kind of tiny squeak, but did not speak further.

If I want to get other imps to evolve like Boney, I need to treat them in a similar way. Like Shiny, Bean, and Nod. When one shows promise, I must reciprocate in kind.

“Hush, huh. That seems like a fitting name. From today on, you shall be known as Hush,” decided Kairon. “And, as one of the first void imps to join our wonderful city, I will have great expectations for you, Hush.”

“Hush…” mused the little imp. “Mmm. Approveeee.”

“Good! It’s settled. Now, since someone is being tight lipped,” grumbled Kairon, throwing a quick glare at the still silent demoness, “would you be willing to tell me what you can do? I’ve never met a void imp such as you before.”

“Mmm.” The void imp held up one arm. “Two purpose… First… Commune.” He raised one spindly finger. Then, as if he knew, he pointed the other arm at the ritual basin in the distance. “Commune with plane.”

That finally got a reaction out of Sythara. “Help commune, he means. The little ones can not commune alone. It would be… Well.” She scoffed. “The results would be less than favorable. Not to mention the madness.”

“The madness?” asked Kairon.

“Child. When you commune with the plane, you invoke its whispers.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning had these voidlings been here when we created that wrath brand, they would have been imprinted with some of the plane’s wrath. They would have helped to bear the burden of communion, and translate what it may mean.”

“Ahh,” replied Kairon. It was starting to make sense now. “And I’m willing to wager that doing so could have side effects. Say, in the case of wrath, our void imps may be feeling rather… angry and destructive.”

Sythara nodded.

“Is that going to be an issue?”

“With me here? No. I can ensure it stays within reason.”

“That sounds a bit risky, you know. Let’s speak more on this later. For now…” He focused back on the voidlings. “Hush, what is the second purpose you spoke of?”

“Mmm.” He lifted another talon. This time, despite the blackness that was his face, Kairon swore he saw the wisps of a grim smile. “The calling…” He let that last syllable trail off ominously.

At his proclamation, the first imp squealed in excitement. He pounced at the summoning stone Hush was atop, two fleshy hands rubbing against it. “Calllllll…” he intoned. “We call……”

“No! Not call! Only explain,” said Hush.

“What is that? The calling?” pressed Kairon.

Both voidlings turned to him, cocking their heads.

“Well?” he asked.

“Call!” said the first.

“Calling is… is…” Hush let out a frustrated noise. “Is…” He looked up, running his hands over his hood. “Is…” Then like a lightbulb went off, the stars in his face shone bright. “Desire.”

Kairon turned to Sythara. “What do they mean?”

“Child, this is not the plane. I do not know of this calling they speak of. Communion I know of. But this calling? It is not something we did.”

Meaning it was probably a specific mechanic for city lords such as Kairon to utilize. But more questions, which were starting to become quite annoying.

“You know what. I’m tired of puttering about. All of you, with me. I’m tired of not knowing what these things mean. We’re answering this question here and now. Let’s go!”

“Child? Where are we going?”

“This, Sythara, is something my colleagues called doing it live!”

***

Half an hour later, Kairon, both the voidlings, and Sythara were a safe distance outside the city. The late afternoon of the day shone upon them, beating on his scales and the hoods of the voidlings. Yet, he could care less. For at this very second, another brilliant experiment awaited.

“So you said desire. What I’m taking from this is you can invoke a calling based upon what you desire?” he asked.

Hush shook his head. “You desire,” he corrected. “Master’s desire,” he clarified, voice rising in pitch.

“Okay… Then… I want gold. Can you give me that?”

“No. Desire… Of the five,” replied Hush.

“Okay. That’s sensible. The districts and their aspects… Then… I want you to do a calling. Of wrath.”

“Child, if this works how it sounds, that might not be—” tried Sythara, only to be cut off by what came next.

A high pitched shriek came from both void imps. They trudged ahead a dozen paces in the hellscape, before finding an overturned rock and standing upon it. Then, like a duet in a dance, they clasped hands and began to sing.

Only, it looked far too much like the ritual chants his brood imps did to be anything close to actual dancing.

Something in the darkening of Hush’s void filled face gave him pause.

“Wait, wait, wait!” said Kairon. “Just a moment.”

Unfortunately, like when he invoked a building ritual, it seemed some kind of control left the voidlings. The calling had been invoked, and something was answering.

“Let’s just take some steps back,” said Kairon.

“Yes. Let’s, child.”

Together, they scampered backwards fifty paces, before turning. All the while, the chanting of the voidlings grew louder and the colors on their faces darker. By the time they’d made it a safe distance away, Kairon’s demonic eyes could barely make out the cosmic speckles within their cowls. Yet, what he saw was chilling. Gone was the galaxy of colors and void. In its place, a blood red crimson marred the void.

Wrath.

The imps raised their arms, cloaks fluttering in the afternoon winds, pitching their heads back and singing their vengeful song into the sky. Faintly, just in the distance, Kairon swore he could hear the beats of war drums.

In the sky, a slow rumble grew. Nothing like the violet lights shot by his sigil, but loud enough that Kairon was certain it too was real.

And then it happened.

Reality tore, and a hole in space opened. From it, an enormous crimson arm thicker than Vorathrex was tall punched through the air. It was ethereal, yet not. Right, yet wrong. Before Kairon could make any more sense of the summoned appendage, it shot over the sands, slamming a closed fist into the ground not fifteen paces away from the void imps. There was a great whoosh, a mushroom cloud of dirt and debris billowing outwards.

Both the voidlings were sent sprawling, with scattered rocks and debris showering both Kairon and Sythara.

Not waiting, the arm receded back from where it came, before the tear in reality closed with a soft pop.

For the second time today, Sythara and Kairon stood together, mouths agape.

Finally, the demoness spoke. “Child. Is this what doing it live means?”

“I… Listen. Sythara. I didn’t think… Well.” Kairon shrugged. “Now we know. I think next time, I need to be more specific in what my desire for a calling is. This was clearly a bit too… broad,” he said, motioning at the massive crater slowly revealing itself through the clearing dust.

The demoness had wrapped her tentacles around her like some kind of armor, shapes sparkling along her skin. “Do you expect to have these… these… surprises each day? Because I must tell you, this is starting to become… a bit much.”

Glancing at the state of the void imps, Kairon pursed his lips. Without replying, he quickly limped up to them. One was face first in the dirt, the other draped against a nearby corrupted stump. Excavating both, he found they each had slowly pulsing chests. They seemed fine, but the voids in their faces were nearly pitch black.

“I think they’ll need some time to recover, just like you with communion. So, no. This shouldn’t be a frequent occurrence.”

“Mmm,” she replied. “Let’s hope.”

As they ferried the two voidlings back to the city, new ideas raced through Kairon’s mind.

Even if the voidlings can only be used once a day, or even once every other day… That was just two. If the power, and perhaps even control of the callings increase with the number of imps…

They were like a glass cannon.

Imagine what a pack of thirty of these little monsters could do.

The thought was as terrifying as it was exciting.

And then another thought ran through his mind.

Wait. If these imps, created and limited by the plane as they are, can call upon its power… Couldn’t I? He’d struggled to learn the language of the plane. His charred and frozen claws were evidence enough of that.

But this was concrete proof that there was a way for an individual to harness the power of the plane’s aspects.

That thought was even more exciting for Kairon.