Li Feng caught the demon's meaning instantly. But he wasn't naive. The Ancient One had drilled her warnings about the Dark Dimension into him from the start, and as for Mordo's suspicious glances—let him stew. If Mordo wanted answers, he could ask the Ancient One directly.
"You're offering to teach me demon magic?" Li Feng asked flatly.
The girl in the cage tilted her head, the demon within wearing her face with practiced ease. "If you like. Some tricks are ours alone, but a handful of dark arts would suit you. With your… limited power, it's all you could handle anyway."
Inside, Li Feng scoffed. Limited? No—afraid. Teach me too much and I'll use it against you. Still, even scraps from Hell could be useful.
The demon whispered out a few basics—Burning Hands, small manipulations of shadow. Li Feng smirked and raised his hand. With a snap, a ripple of golden-orange light cracked the air, and the campfire seemed to shiver.
The demon's eyes widened.
From the outside, Behmen and the others still sat around the fire, none the wiser. But the demon knew better. It had been pulled into a mirror dimension without even realizing.
A cold weight settled in its gut. If this boy had chosen to cage me here… I'd still be clawing at the walls when dawn came.
The illusion dissolved. Firelight snapped back into its natural shape. Li Feng's voice was soft, edged with warning. "Consider that mercy. You'll keep feeding me spells, and I won't lock you away. We're partners now. Don't forget it."
He turned his back on the cage, crossing to Mordo's side. The flare had been too bright; without Mordo's subtle hand covering the slip, the knights might have noticed. He sat down again, face calm though his chest still beat hard. Bargaining with a demon was always a game of inches. One wrong step and he'd be dead.
So far, the gamble had paid off. He walked away with knowledge. His only dark spell before this had been necromantic channeling, something both Bastos and the Ancient One treated as dangerous curiosity. But a demon willing to hand him real tools? That was opportunity. Of course, the Ancient One would test them later. For all he knew, every incantation carried a hook.
Mordo broke the silence, his gaze pinned on the cage. "What did you talk about in there?"
Li Feng tossed another log onto the fire. "Asked her how she ended up branded a witch."
Nobody bought it. Behmen's men rolled their eyes. Li Feng smirked. "So—who's on watch?"
Mordo's mouth tightened. "They've decided. They don't trust us. We're lucky they didn't tie us to a tree."
Li Feng's eyes flicked to the priest, voice sharp. "That was your idea, wasn't it? Blind as ever."
The priest shot to his feet, face red. "Heretic! A devil in black and a devil in yellow—you blaspheme against Heaven itself!"
Steel rasped free as Li Feng drew his blade. His grin was feral. "Say that again and I'll take your head for a piss pot."
Mordo's staff came up, eyes cold. One false move from the crusaders and he'd end it.
Behmen watched, measuring. Li Feng held his sword like a thug who'd never seen war, but Mordo radiated discipline. And the priest—Behmen had little fondness for him anyway. So long as no one drew blood, he'd stay his hand.
Florus groaned from his bedroll. "If you're going to argue, do it away from the fire. I need sleep."
Kay, the young squire, stepped forward instead. "Master Austin, threatening a priest condemns you to Hell. Apologize to Father Deborsak."
Li Feng sneered. "Didn't you hear him first?" He glanced at Mordo, who gave only a look—one more slip and it'll cost you. Li Feng lowered his blade but didn't yield. "I'll apologize… after you teach me swordsmanship. And when I beat Behmen with it, I'll bow to the priest too."
Behmen sighed. Foolish bravado. Just say you won't apologize.
Kay considered, then pressed. "Apologize first. Then I'll teach you. Otherwise, the Church will brand you a heretic for threatening a priest."
Li Feng's smile was razor-sharp. "Then I'll never apologize. And if the Church listens to him, maybe I should call him the demon. He sees heretics in every shadow. One day they'll give me a medal for exposing him."
The priest sputtered in rage, but Behmen and Florus looked away, unmoved. Eckhart rose quietly to take first watch. The priest muttered to Kay, "Keep them close. Do not let them near the witch." Then he retreated, feigning prayer.
Mordo studied Li Feng with narrowed eyes, suspicion simmering. But with Kay awake, he said nothing more, retreating into meditation.
The camp fell quiet. Li Feng stirred the fire, then looked at Kay. "So, little brother—teach me swordsmanship? Just the basics."
Kay frowned. "Why not ask Mordo? I can feel his strength."
Li Feng grimaced, remembering baseball drills disguised as training. Not again. "Just answer."
Kay sighed, then bent, broke off two branches, and handed one over. "Fine. Grip first. Balance, leverage, control."
Li Feng's surprise faded as the lesson deepened. Single-hand grips. Two-hand grips. Redirecting force instead of resisting it. Simple truths he'd never considered.
Hours later, when Deborsak stirred for his watch, Kay yawned and rolled into his blanket. "Enough for tonight."
Li Feng smirked. Progress.
But Mordo's eyes opened, sharp and unrelenting. "Everyone else is asleep. No one will hear. Tell me the truth—what did you say to her?"
Li Feng checked Kay—already snoring. Some guard. He snapped his fingers, and the shimmer of a mirror dimension wrapped around them.
"The girl is a demon," Li Feng said quietly. "But she didn't destroy the soul. They're sharing the body."
Mordo's breath hissed out, grim. "So that's it. That's why she feels so wrong."
Mordo's grip tightened on his staff. He was a heartbeat away from tearing open a portal, dragging the demon into mirror space, and blasting it from Anna's body.
Li Feng caught his arm. "I get it—you want vengeance for your disciple. But think. What did the villagers say?"
Mordo's jaw clenched. All he wanted was the kill.
Li Feng pressed harder. "Slay the demon and you're done. But what about the plague? How do you cure an entire world choking on it? Or do we just leave and let them rot?"
That landed. Mordo thought of herbs and poultices, remedies he'd read of—but stopped. This wasn't natural sickness. It was born of Hell. Medicine couldn't touch it. By the time a cure was forged, thousands would already be dead. The weight of that failure would follow him forever.
He exhaled, temper cooling. "Then what do you propose?"
Li Feng spread his hands. "Behmen's men know the plague came from this thing, yet they still drag it to Severac. That tells me the monastery has a ritual strong enough to purge both demon and disease. All we need to do is make sure it doesn't slip free first."
Mordo scowled. He preferred the clean answer—kill it, deal with the fallout later. Letting it live felt like playing the demon's game. And if Behmen's knights interfered? He could trap them in mirror space and end it anyway.
Li Feng rubbed his temples. One rash move and this idiot ruins my plan.
So, he lied. "Severac's cure isn't medicine. It's a ritual. Needs the demon present to work. Kill it now, and the ritual fails. Do you really want to gamble a whole world on pride?"
Even the Ancient One would have paused before dissecting the laws of another reality. Mordo, unsettled, relented—though suspicion smoldered in his eyes.
"How do you even know that?" he demanded. "The demon told you? No fiend gives away its chains… unless you've struck a bargain." His gaze hardened. "And demons lie with every breath."
Li Feng's stomach tightened. Dead center.
He waved it off with practiced calm. "Trade secret. When we're back at Kamar-Taj, I'll tell the Ancient One. If she wants to share it with you, fine. Until then—stop digging."
He collapsed the mirror space before Mordo could press.
The demon, though, had felt the ripple. It hadn't seen what passed in that hidden pocket, and paranoia gnawed. Had Li Feng betrayed it?
Eckhart relieved the priest at watch, speaking softly to the girl. His eyes held doubt—too much pity. Dangerous pity.
The demon seethed. Compassion like his unraveled disguises. He had to die. His death could serve multiple ends: silence his doubts, showcase Hell's strength, and lure Li Feng deeper with darker lessons.
It pitched its voice high, trembling. "Don't leave me with the priest. Please."
Eckhart leaned closer. "Don't worry. I won't go far."
That was all it needed. In a blur, Anna's hand shot out, snatched the priest's cross and key, and drove the crucifix into his chest. Blood sprayed as she wrenched herself free of the cage and bolted into the dark.
Li Feng and Mordo reemerged from mirror space to chaos—shouts, steel clashing, a surge of sorcery in the night.
Mordo's face twisted with fury. "It runs? Then it dies!" He sprinted after it, staff raised.
Li Feng followed at an easy pace. Relax. It won't really escape. This world's script is already written—Eckhart falls, Kay grieves, and the road bends toward Severac.
Sure enough, he soon found the demon weaving illusions around Eckhart. The knight staggered, eyes glassy. Kay lunged, blade flashing, but the shadows twisted, turning his strike into a fatal blow.
Li Feng squinted, memorizing the demon's muttered incantations even as Behmen's torchlight drew near. When Eckhart collapsed with Kay's sword in his gut, Li Feng muttered, "That trick of yours—what sorcery was that? Twisted his senses as much as his will."
The demon's smile was razor-thin. "Dark illusions cut deeper than light's parlor tricks. They reach the heart."
Li Feng rolled his eyes. Every power has its place. You're just blind to anything beyond shadow.
The demon ignored him. Words alone wouldn't snare this one. Better to bide time, study, strike later.
It tilted its head, sly. "When you vanished with your friend—what did you plot?"
Li Feng's voice was dry. "We argued about how to kill you. Believe it or not."
The demon froze. "You told him?"
Li Feng gestured lazily. "And notice how you're still breathing? That means I convinced him to wait. Severac first. No risks before then."
Doubt lingered, but the logic was sound enough.
It drew back toward the camp, smoothing its features, trembling like a terrified girl. Tears welled as it clung near Eckhart's corpse, a picture of innocence framed by firelight.
Li Feng watched, grudgingly impressed. That performance? Flawless. Hollywood would've given you an Oscar.
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