The Paladin in the Abyss

Chapter 621: Chapter 645: The Mercenary’s Work

For those who have lingered long enough in the Outer Layer, selling their soul to a demon is a cliché and terrible scam. Some fools might think being reborn as a Bartez after death doesn’t seem too bad, at least you would have eternal life, plus a predictable promotion mechanism, a sound payment system, and even paid leave benefits…

But who said you could directly become a demon?

The souls that travel to Hell are first treated as ‘fuel’, subjected to unimaginable torture and torment, their energy extracted to maintain the operation of the Nine Hells, until not a trace of humanity remains in the empty shell of the soul. This process could be brief or it might last for years, and if you have a feud with a high-ranking demon, you might even be perpetually forgotten on the grill, until the end of time.

Regardless of the scenario, when a soul leaves the torture devices, its memories, emotions, and knowledge from its time as a mortal have all dissipated, leaving nothing but worthless dregs. Only then are they thrown into the Blood Pool or worm pits, reincarnated as the lowest of the Bartez: Lesser Demons, pitiful creatures that resemble blobs of molten flesh with only a vague human shape.

Of course, in some rare instances, demons also add specific clauses in the contract, agreeing to shorten or even skip the torment, transforming you directly into a particular form of demon—meaning your memories and personality are relatively well-preserved, which is highly appealing to certain scoundrels. But the cost of such a contract is so high it’s beyond the imagination of common folk, often requiring you to play a key role in some profoundly evil act. Basically, only big shots who already possess some status (like Kings, Prime Ministers, Stewards, Generals) have the opportunity to commit such a crime, so ordinary mercenaries shouldn’t even dream of such luck.

For this reason, many are very reluctant to serve the demons, and to secure a relatively safe job, one must study the intricate terms of the contract to ensure there’s no wordplay that could doom them forever. This task cannot be outsourced, it must be done personally—no friendship is sturdy enough to withstand such a test.

In comparison, serving under a Demon Lord is much simpler. Most of the time, you don’t even need to write your name, just mark an ‘X’ will suffice, and the loss is manageable—death is just death, with no eternal torment or torture waiting for you. If you haven’t committed any serious sins and don’t strongly identify with any gods, you will likely be judged by the King of the Dead to be subject to reincarnation, which to many mortals struggling in the Outer Layer seems almost appealing.

Of course, the contracts of demons are non-binding, equivalent to scrap paper, and the verbal promises of demons are as different from farts as they are more stink. The risk involved in dealing with the chaotic camp is this high, but correspondingly, due to their terrible reputation, demons have to offer ridiculously high prices to attract some sufficiently insane speculators.

But with high risk comes high reward; for the experienced veterans, they can indeed find opportunities worth the risk among the countless jobs offered by different Demon Lords. Of course, don’t expect demons to honestly post a job description; their compulsion to lie is such that you can often discern the truth by interpreting their words in reverse. In this respect, demons can be quite adorable.

Take for example, you might read a flyer in a tavern in Mark City that reads: A very easy job! The powerful Lord Urbas of Tanari needs to hire four experienced guards to watch over an ordinary mine within his own territory, driving away the nearby wild low-level monsters. A weekly salary of fifty Gold Coins, interested applicants please go to the Lazybones Street in the lower district…

The correct interpretation would be: A terrible job! A weak Tanari Lord, whose true name is definitely not Urbas, needs to hire four or more unlucky fools to guard a mine that probably doesn’t belong to him. There are many potential enemies, but wild low-level monsters are definitely the least of your concerns. There is no pay, as the original text didn’t specify how the compensation will be settled, and the method of signing up might be the only true piece of information, as that part was added by the mercenaries’ brokers themselves.

Therefore, when an exceptionally candid call for an emergency recruitment made its way to Mark City, it naturally attracted the eyes of all mercenaries. The recruitment order went as follows:

Urgent recruitment of Blood War Mercenaries to combat the regular forces of Bartez on the Plains of the Abyss. Applicants must bring their own weapons and armor and fight under the command of the Six-Arm Serpent Demon General. The weekly salary for all qualified applicants is three hundred Gold Coins, paid upfront, with the remainder of the information classified as military secret. Interested parties, please proceed to the Armory, explain your purpose to the guard of the Doomsday Guard Brigade, and undertake a basic combat test. Those who pass will be immediately sent to the Bottomless Abyss.

——The pearl of the Stygian Riverbank, Lord of Twin Bridges Town, Tijana.

Any mercenary who’s lived long enough will sooner or later meet peers who have been to Twin Bridges Town, and with every mercenary who returns alive with a swollen purse, the credibility of Twin Bridges Town increases by a notch. A weekly salary of two hundred Gold Coins is not common; in fact, it is twice the normal rate, and that’s before mentioning the upfront payment. Not to forget, the recruitment order was issued in the name of Tijana, Lord of Twin Bridges Town, a name that carries special weight in the hearts of some.

———————–

The entrance to the Mercenary Hall had not changed, except that it was not the intimidating Six-Arm Serpent Demon sitting behind the counter, but Vidia, one of Tijana’s seven maids and an acquaintance of Lancelot.

“Sir, you’ve arrived,” the Succubus greeted the Human Knight with a sweet smile. “How may I assist you?”

“We are here to report to Lady Solheim. Where is she?”

“Fourth floor, the innermost room,” Vidia pointed to a spiral staircase on people’s right-hand side. “She’s interviewing the new mercenaries, but you can go straight up. Lady Tijana has already ordered your matter.”

“Thank you, Vidia,” Lancelot said, bowing politely. “I wish you a pleasant day.”

The group then turned and headed upstairs, quickly realizing what those newly added structures in the building were for — temporary barracks. At this moment, these were filled with sturdy triple-tier bunk beds, easily identified as Dwarven craftsmanship. Most of these beds were currently empty, but Lancelot was certain that when night fell, the smell in here would turn quite foul.

When they reached the fourth floor, they found the hall to be rather spacious. In a corner were placed practice weapons and Protective Gear, which seemed to be there for the mercenaries to blow off steam. In the center of the hall, a large crowd was gathered around two people standing opposite each other, staring fiercely and with blades already drawn.

A duel seemed imminent, and it was bound to end with the death of one party.