“Or maybe the demon knows we stole the miracle and won’t present itself to us.”
The spider cocked her head as if deep in thought, then shook it vigorously. “No…no, that’s definitely not it. It would have arrived and killed you in the contract ceremony if it had any ill will against you.”
“It can do that?”
“Oh, yes, and frankly, I doubt I’d have been able to help you much against sothing this strong. It’s always a risk to take on summoned demons, and this particular breed is not known for their kindness. It would jump at the opportunity to eat you if it didn’t wish to bond with you.”
Riven’s eyes narrowed. “How the hell do warlocks survive if they risk dying every ti they summon a new minion?”
Athela sighed. “There are different ways to contract with demons. One is by having a class that allows foreign contact at certain intervals or milestones. Another is by creating a miracle stone or summoning circle, which are more dangerous than the class-contact route, which is protected by the administrator of Elysium. Miracle stones and summoning circles are completely on your own, aning the administrator won’t interfere if the demon tries to kill you. The demons you can bind with through the administrator’s system cannot harm you upon picking them. Usually demons contracted through a miracle stone like this are very rare until you reach well over level 100, especially with such a singular and powerful breed, so this is a unique opportunity. Dying is worth the risk for extre gains and great power.”
“Is it, though?”
“It is if you want to live a fulfilling life! You’re a Novice Warlock, Riven! Warlocks are supposed to be risk-takers!”
He gave her a doubtful look. “Are we, though?”
“Definitely!”
“Uh-huh.”
“You took the risk to save , didn’t you?”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Riven eventually said while gripping the waist-high stone barrier. “I can say the sa about how you saved , back there in the duel. I know you were being self-serving, but you’ve been very helpful, and I know I wouldn’t have made it without you.”
She chittered a laugh and pointed at herself. “Without ? You’d definitely have died, silly human. Bask in my presence!”
He forced his smile back, not wanting to encourage her further, and pretended like he hadn’t heard anything she’d just said. Opening his eyes again, Riven scanned the obscured horizon as low-lying clouds and fog drifted across and through the jagged streets, catwalks connecting buildings, pools of fire, slews of strung-up bodies, and ruined gothic temples clustered around them. This tower was certainly not the absolute tallest in the area, but it was one of the tallest—and although it was narrow, there was another catwalk connecting this building to another just three stories down.
“This dungeon really is a maze…” Riven mused, catching sight of a large citadel partially obscured by the city’s mists farther in—and then straining to see a distant forest of dead black trees off in the opposite direction when the fog briefly parted. “Oh! Finally, sothing other than these damnable ruins.”
A groan from behind them caused Riven to turn, and the orange-eyed raven that’d been watching him took off with a squawk to soar up into the air and away from this blasted place…but it gave him one long, sideways glance before it made its final retreat into the fog.
Riven frowned as the other man got up and rubbed his eyes. “Hey, Jalel. Sleep well?”
Jalel, the silver-haired young man, glanced over to him warily and gave him an appraising look before sighing and shaking his head. He took a mont to regain his senses from the grip of slumber and stretched with a deep-set frown as he looked around the large tower room. “Not at all. This…this is the worst possible outco.”
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