ALL NOVEL Chapter 90 – Floor 9: Part 11
Chapter 90 – Floor 9: Part 11
“I thank the god of Accumulated Understanding for this opportunity, Demon Lord Mathew.” Yule replied, bowing her head low.
“Goodwin will see to it that rooms are provided in the mansion for your use. Aside from that, you are to have unrestricted access to me at all times. I wouldn’t want your chronicle to miss out on some juicy tidbit. Heaven forefend.” Mathew joked, and Yule started at the statement. His causal blasphemy against the gods would take some getting used to.
“Take your time to get settled. We will be travelling to the convention in a few hours.” Mathew ordered, and Goodwin stepped forward from where she stood beside Mathew’s throne.
“Your rooms are above.” Goodwin stated, motioning to a servant to take the Chronicler away. No sooner than her white robes were no longer visible did the Mayor turn to the Demon Lord with questions.
“I don’t see why it is necessary to allow her around you. What if she finds out something she shouldn’t and tells the Lords and Ladies of the Lineage about it?” Goodwin asked with concern. Her fate was tied to Mathew’s now. If he fell, she would likely suffer for serving him.
“She won’t. I’ve been assured that she won’t do anything but write a chronicle for the Cathedral. It won’t be shared with anyone. Besides, even the other Demon Lords have agreed to it. As the weakest of their members, how could I say no when they have allowed it?” Mathew clarified.
“Now, everything is prepared. Reesh will be in good hands while I’m away, Goodwin. I have complete confidence in you. But if something does happen, that statue out there is for more than just show. Just ask it for help, and you’ll be safe until I come back.” Mathew said.
The gift from the god of Mischievous Depravity had a secondary function. It could come to life to defend Reesh for a short period of time. Mathew doubted if it could defeat any of the local Lords or Ladies; it seemed to be pretty weak, but it would be enough to buy some time for him to come back.
“It will be as you say, Demon Lord Mathew.” Goodwin replied, bowing deeper than Yule had.
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“Ready?” Mathew asked, looking at the young, white-robed woman beside him.
Yule had a small book open in her hands with a beautiful, golden pen ready to make notes. He had questioned her about her writing, and she had told him she would be making shorthand notes during her travels with him and would flesh them out after she returned.
The Chronicler looked up from her notepad at the question. Blinking her eyes in surprise, she stared at the portal that had suddenly appeared in the throne room.
Glowing a bright and angry red, the portal was a result of an item from the shop that one of the other Demon Lords had purchased. Mathew wasn’t sure what the item was; it hadn’t been available to him, but it worked by burning through tens of thousands of Aether per trip.
While another Demon Lord had bought the item in order to facilitate this convention of Players, Mathew had spent the Aether to open this side of it.
Situated in the center of his throne room’s hall, the portal reflected back an image of Mathew and Yule rather than whatever lay on the other side. In any other situation, Mathew would be wary of a portal whose exit he couldn’t see, but the god of Mischievous Depravity had assured him it was safe.
“I am ready, Demon Lord Mathew.” Yule responded, and Mathew let out a sigh.
“Just Mathew.”
Mathew entered the portal without waiting for a response from the Chronicler about his preferred title. The mirrorlike surface of the gateway washed over him like icy water. The chill was followed by a blast of heat, like entering a furnace, before he exited into a warm, comfortable environment once again.
A few specks of ash struck the shoulders of Mathew’s black jacket, a lingering effect of the portal, and he brushed them away casually. Before he took stock of his surroundings, Mathew turned to the portal and waited for Yule to follow.
Seconds later, Yule stumbled out of the portal. Wavering on her feet, she nearly fell before Mathew grabbed her. Her skin was flushed as if she had been sunburned, but she was shivering from the cold.
The Portal, which had been only a minor irritation to Mathew with his high level and stats, had been devasting to the mundane Yule.
“Shit. Hold on.” Mathew said, pulling up his inventory and taking a potion from within. Popping the cork, he forced the red liquid between Yule’s parched and chapped lips. Her skin returned to its normal paleness in seconds, and her shivers ceased.
“Better?” Mathew asked with concern. He hadn’t thought if the portal would affect someone not hardened and enhanced from the Tower of Avarice. Yule nodded as she regained her feet. Mathew handed her another potion.
“Here. Take this if you don’t feel well. I’ll have to do something for the return trip. Maybe the shop will have something to help…” Mathew’s voice trailed off as he thought about it. Yule thanked him and pocketed the elixir.
The Chronicles spoke of the magical abilities and wonderful potions of the Demon Lords. They were capable of healing anything short of death. But there was a difference between reading about something and experiencing it herself.
The Portal had been terrible. She had seen Mathew enter it without concern, and she had never imagined how different it would be for her!
It felt like being plunged into the depths of the ocean during winter; the cold chilled her to her bones. But, the heat on her skin burned like fire. It was the strangest and most painful feeling she had ever experienced.
But Demon Lord Mathew was unscathed as if he had walked through an open doorway on a spring day.
‘Was the gulf between him and humans that wide?’ Yule thought, furiously writing notes in her book without a single look at where the Portal had deposited them.
Seeing that the Chronicler was fine, Mathew turned his attention to their location.
They were in a wide, stone plaza. The floor was made of slate, set in a circle with trees surrounding it. Flowers made nice, tidy rows in concentric rings to break up the endless grey. The air was filled with the singing of birds, and Mathew enjoyed the sound of the wind rustling the leaves.
He had missed that during his time on the Seventh Floor, and he breathed in the refreshing atmosphere with delight. Whoever had selected the venue had his respect and admiration.
There was something else layered on top of everything here. A faint spicy scent of Aether and the swirling energy of mana. This was a magical location. Someone had spent a lot of effort to construct this for their needs, and he suspected that a Player had used the shop to achieve it.
“Ready?” Mathew asked, turning to look at the young woman. Yule’s pen slowed, marking a final note on the page before closing the book.
Mathew led the way forward; the sun shone brightly directly above them. It had been late in the day in Reesh, so he knew they had travelled quite far if the position of the sun had changed so drastically. Several of the Demon Lords were to the west of Reesh, giving Mathew a hint of who’s domain they were now in.
He had been on this Floor for a year now, and the title of ‘Demon Lord’ barely phased him anymore. He knew what he truly was, and his purpose here.
‘Clear away the rot.’ Mathew thought, looking around the plaza for any other arrivals. A set of stairs on the far side of the circle led them to a pavilion overlooking a valley. The banks were green with trees, and a waterfall created a beautiful rainbow set perfectly against the walls of the Pavilion.
Mathew could hear music playing and the sound of conversation. As he neared the ground, he could see that the Pavilion was filled with people. Two dozen others waited for him. Half were wearing similar outfits as Yule, white-robed men and women who would be there to chronicle the event.
While the others were his fellow Demon Lords. Six men and an equal amount of women, all titled ‘Lord.’
Mathew felt a small thrill of excitement. He hadn’t spoken to another Player in a while, and he found himself looking forward to it.
Later, when the meeting concluded, Mathew cursed himself for a fool. He should have known that anyone willing to accept the ‘Demon Lord’ title wouldn’t be easy to chat with.