Chapter 4: Burning Steppes and First Gating
'The Burning Steppes,'I thought as I surveyed the landscape before me. The scent of fire magic lingered heavily in the air, and the area was devoid of any greenery.
'So this is what happens when one summons an Elemental Lord,' I pondered as I headed towards what I presumed to be the north, for to the north of the Burning Steppes lay either the Searing Gorges or the Badlands.
Whichever direction I chose, there would be challenges aplenty. The difficulty of traversing the Burning Steppes was already significant; being open steppes meant I would be exposed for much of the journey. Moreover, it was a region infested with black dragons and other dangerous creatures.
But something I discovered during my journey is that I require no sustenance. I am completely self-sufficient; I do not need to eat, and although I do not possess unlimited endurance like I assumed previously, I am indeed enduring. However, to regenerate, I need mana, and during combat, I must remember to use my mana to maintain my endurance at a sufficient level to avoid a decrease in combat effectiveness.
The past two weeks spent traversing the entirety of the Redridge Mountains have been arduous. I have slept very little, approximately seven hours in two weeks, yet it seems to be more than adequate. I feel like someone who has no issues with sleep.
The Burning Steppes may prove to be one of the most dangerous parts of my journey thus far.
I sigh as I begin to sprint at my top speed. Over the past two weeks, I've become quite accustomed to my new body, although I still have occasional human habits.
My mastery of magic hasn't progressed much compared to before. Two weeks of training is hardly enough for me to use more than a simple fireball. I believe that if I were to focus solely on training, I could unlock far more potent spells. Then again, as a demon of Might and Magic, perhaps I'm not limited to using only Might and Magic spells.
But the magic I've focused on the most is physical enhancement magic. I can't recall the spell that provided a boost in fire magic, but I've concentrated on increasing my physical strength because, after all, I remain a hero of the Might affinity. A hero known for leading troops directly into combat and charging into the fray himself.
'It's so dull,' I look around, scanning my surroundings. All I see is a heavy cloud of dust, obscuring the sun in the sky, making it resemble more of a fiery orb than the sun, with the scent of burning omnipresent.
'The Dark Iron dwarves really did a number here,' I continue, reflecting on the transformation of this once relatively healthy plain into a volcanic wasteland, with massive magma streams running throughout. Almost no plants grow in this region anymore, except for those infused with fire magic or ores imbued with flame.
The first day of my trip was uneventful, I found no traces of life except some shadows in the smoke clouds that seemed to be flying drakes but I paid them no heed.
I continued to run through the night, feeling not the slightest trace of fatigue. Without the sun in the sky, the plains appeared even more ominous, illuminated only by the light from the fissures of magma.
My nose was of no use here; only the scent of burning permeated the air.
As I ran, I suddenly felt a tug from within me, causing me to stop in my tracks and look around, trying to discern what was causing this unsettling feeling. Finding nothing, I closed my eyes, only to find myself transported to what I assumed to be Sheogh.
It was an environment even worse than the Burning Steppes. Sheogh was literally Hell; there was no other comparison I could make. The longer I stayed there, the more I understood why Kha-Beleth was so eager to free the demons from this prison. But a question that has plagued me since my first foray into this realm is why Sheogh exists in the Warcraft universe; it makes no sense.
As I looked around, I noticed familiar sights; some demons were watching me. I recognized a dozen imps and two hellhounds observing me, the hellhounds drooling as they suddenly began to sprint towards me.
I gripped my sword with both hands, preparing to fend off the two-headed hellhounds charging towards me. However, before their massive bodies could reach me, their demeanor suddenly shifted. They transformed into friendly-looking dogs as they approached me, sniffing at me as if I were a tasty morsel. They made eager noises, as if expecting me to give them a treat, their four heads drooling profusely.
I watched as the imps approached, but before one of them could lay a hand on me, one of the hellhounds lunged at it, tearing it apart in an instant. Bits of flesh and blood scattered around as the hellhound made quick work of the imp.
I observed the scene with a slight furrow of my brow, noting the ferocity of the demons. Their brutality seemed boundless, as expected.
A strange sensation washed over me, a connection to all these demons as if they were my own offspring. It was peculiar; the bond was stronger with the hellhounds than with the imps, but it was there nonetheless.
"What do you want?" I asked the hellhound, my hand gently stroking one of its heads. The other hellhound nudged the first one aside, vying for attention. This seemed to irk the one I was petting.
"Stop!" I commanded, my guttural voice echoing all around, and the two hellhounds obediently halted, their tails wagging as they sat before me.
"Great master," said one of the imps that came close. "We responded to your call." He kneeled in front of me, but I furrowed my brow. Did I call them? I had no recollection of doing so.
"Your collected souls summoned us, my lord. With a small offering, we would be honored to join your ranks," said another imp, bowing low.
I frowned at the mention of an offering. Since when did imps require offerings? These creatures were weaker than a common human peasant.
"An offering, you say? In what honor should I waste even a single soul on such insignificant beings as you?" I retorted, and at the same moment, the two hellhounds began to growl.
The imps began to back away, dropping to their knees even lower.
"Forgive us, great lord. Greed blinded us," said the first imp, pleading.
I sniffed disdainfully after the imp's response. They had tried to steal souls from me when I knew well that their services were worthless.
'As for the hellhounds,' I thought as I turned my head to look at the two creatures who were playing with the remains of the imp that had been torn apart by one of them.
I whistled, causing the two hellhounds to instantly turn towards me. Reaching within myself to where the souls were stored, I focused my thoughts. Then, suddenly, I extended my open hand, willing a soul to appear there. In an instant, one of the Gnoll souls materialized.
I felt the two hellhounds move instantly, their tails wagging much faster and their breath quickening.
I tossed the soul to one of the hellhounds, who leaped to devour it eagerly, then I retrieved another soul and did the same with the other.
I then looked at all the demons.
"Stay here. I will summon you when I have need of your services," I told the demons as I closed my eyes, hearing the whines of the hellhounds as the environment changed. Once again, as I opened my eyes, I saw that I was back in the Burning Steppes, but this time I had a glowing symbol on the back of my right hand.
I sensed a deep connection with it, already foreseeing what would happen if I were to exert a bit of pressure on it: gating.
Gating was the primary ability of the Inferno Heroes in the games, allowing them to summon more demons to aid their army. However, the summoned demons would return to Sheogh after the battle.
'The summons here should follow the same rules, a demon for a limited time,' I thought as I resumed walking toward the next destination.
The remainder of the journey was tense as I skirted around a camp of Dark Iron dwarves. While individually they might not pose a significant threat, their numbers were enough to give me pause.
The camp housed around twenty dwarves, some of whom were armed with guns, a fact that sent shivers down my spine. Armed only with a sword and the demons I could summon, I knew I was at a disadvantage. While my magic could potentially dispatch some of them, I wasn't willing to provoke them unnecessarily.
I quickly navigated around the camp after a brief reconnaissance, then turned eastward. There, I could skirt around the hill and head towards the Badlands.
However, as I rounded the hill, I stumbled upon a small group of Dark Iron dwarves busy skinning what appeared to be an alligator.
"What's this, then?" one of them grunted, eyeing me suspiciously as his companions brandished their weapons.
'Two armed with guns, one with an axe, and one unarmed,' I noted as I surveyed the group.
Tension crackled in the air until I raised my hands in a placating gesture.
"I'm just a traveler passing through the Steppes on my way to the Badlands," I replied with a disarming smile, though it seemed to only make them more wary.
"A traveler, eh? Lookin' like some demonic fella, and claimin' to be a traveler? Don't make me laugh," one of the dwarves sneered, his words dripping with skepticism.
Without hesitation, I swiftly unleashed a bolt of fire, striking the doubting dwarf squarely in the head. He staggered back, glaring at me with a wounded eye.
Seizing the opportunity, I deftly conjured a portal of fire and arcane energy, from which emerged two hellhounds and three imps, snarling and eager for battle as they charged at the startled dwarves.
The unarmed dwarf clasped his hands together as a spell began to form.
'A mage!' I realized with widened eyes. Reacting swiftly, I once again pointed my hand towards him, conjuring a bolt of fire and hurling it towards the mage. But this time, the dwarf wielding the double-handed axe intercepted my spell with a deft swing of his weapon.
Seeing the mage preparing a fiery ball of magma, I charged forward. Seizing one of the imps by the head, I hurled it towards the mage just as he unleashed his spell. The imp bore the full brunt of the attack, its body melting into a grotesque puddle upon impact.
As I rushed forward, I heard the sharp crack of a gunshot followed by a cry of pain. Glancing back, I witnessed one of the dwarves being savagely mauled by one of the hellhounds, while the other gunner was overwhelmed by the remaining imps.
Closing the distance, I confronted the axe-wielding dwarf. It must have been a comical sight to see a three-meter-tall armored demon wielding a sword as long as a dwarf's height. With a powerful horizontal slash, I struck at the dwarf, sending his body flying with the force of the blow.
Seizing the opportunity, I lunged towards the mage, intending to impale him. But in a sudden blink of an eye, his body vanished from sight.
'Blink,' I thought, recognizing the spell. Scanning my surroundings, I spotted the mage behind one of my hellhounds, a fireball in hand. Before he could react, the hound turned and pounced, its jaws clamping down on the mage's head with lethal force, tearing it clean off in an instant.
Without hesitation, I dashed towards the axe-wielding dwarf, delivering a powerful two-handed strike from above that cleaved both him and his weapon in half.
Surveying the aftermath of the skirmish, I couldn't help but feel a pang of concern. Perhaps I had been too rash in engaging these dwarves, but the urgency of the situation left me with little choice. If I drew the attention of the entire camp, it would surely spell my demise. Against thirty armed dwarves, possibly including mages or shamans, I stood little chance.
"Let's move!" I called out to the remaining demons, urgency lacing my voice as we swiftly made our escape towards the north. The gunshot could have alerted the camp, and I was unwilling to take any chances of being caught by them.
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A little chapter with the best friends of any demon
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