A short story of how Belial embarked on the path of the Hell Rebel

Troublemaker of the deep

Devil Belial has always been a bit of a troublemaker, living in the corridors of Deep Hell and instead of caring about the work of a hell servant, he was always interested in anything outside of his duties. Although he had enough good friends in the deepest dungeons, he never quite fit in and didn’t seem to belong here. He felt that, but he had absolutely no idea why. And he couldn’t either, because his origin was shrouded in dark secrets of the ancient past.

When there was an opportunity, Belial went on forbidden expeditions beyond the borders of Deep Hell and sometimes managed to escape through lava tunnels to the surface of the earth, into the crater of an old volcano. There, in the dead of night, he watched the stars through veils of sulphurous fog. He bathed in hot springs and drank Bugam – a cheap but strong beer from Hell. Sometimes Belial was lucky and came across a beautiful fire demon in the volcano, and then Belial especially enjoyed the trip – that is, if she wasn’t in the mood to kill everything in her reach.

The infernal guards did not love Belial one bit, he did not respect them and when they punished him, he endured the punishments stoically and obstinately. On the other hand, he didn’t miss a single opportunity to mock the guard – often still intoxicated with Bugam from his night’s drinking. The more the guards disliked him, the more popular he became with the other hell servants. Sometimes one of the friends even went on an expedition to the crater with Belial.

Chain and hook singing

However, on one forbidden trip, Belial and his infernal friend Hagur were betrayed and a guard was waiting for them in the crater. Overseer Dhemor hated the surface almost as much as Belial, so when he had to follow the fugitives to the surface, his brain flooded with bloodlust. He didn’t feel like just punishing Belial again, but rather killing both adventurers as a warning to everyone else.

The ranger’s attack came from behind and suddenly, moreover, at a time when the two prominent ones were already significantly strengthened by the infernal mocha. After the first attack, Hagur fell. Dhemor raised his left arm, which surprisingly ended in a forearm. The forearm was replaced with a strange iron weapon. A chain tipped with a sharp blade flew out of this thing at lightning speed and cut through the sulphur-saturated air. The blade sang a song of death and sank into poor Hagur’s back. This was followed by the sound of spines snapping, ribs breaking and flesh tearing. In the next moment, Dhemor jerked his arm and the recoil of the sharp hook completed the work of destruction. Dark blood splattered with torn pieces of flesh and bone all over the area. For a moment this scarlet fountain obscured even the red full moon, which shone darkly through the thick veils of sulphurous mist.

In the next moment, several things happened at once. Belial turned to the guard in surprise, Hagur’s torn body arced through the air and landed on the smoking lava ground, the sharp spike and chain returned flawlessly to the holster of the guard’s weapon, and blood spattered heavily on Belial and the attacker, whose eyes gleamed with desire for more murder.

“By all hells!” bellowed a surprised Belial, and when he subsequently understood the situation, a fury he hadn’t known before was awakened in him. He lost a good friend in an instant and now it’s his turn! A hateful roar came from the devil’s mouth, followed by a shower of ancient curses.

Dhemor was momentarily taken aback by the reaction. His mind could not fathom how it was possible that instead of begging for his life, Belial was cursing in the ancient language of powerful demons from long ago. He didn’t speak the ancient language himself, but he knew it for sure! Something was wrong here. However, it doesn’t change anything.

The moment of surprise had worn off, but Dhemor was still confident of his invincibility. The two adversaries faced each other in the glow of the red moon—like two colossi from another world, which was no lie.

Belial tensed like a steel string in rage, his massive frame hardened by the hard work of hell, and huge bands of steel muscle and rage-swollen veins jutted out from his body. He felt a growing flame of hatred in his chest like never before. No mere mortal would want to face him in battle. But Dhemor was no ordinary, and certainly not mortal! He was still two heads taller than Belial and completely monstrous in stature. His inhuman head was decorated with huge twisted horns, and his chest was covered by bone plates of armor bearing the insignia of the overseers.

Dhemor was groomed for the role of conqueror of the servants of hell from a young age. Even before the infernal alchemists cut off his left hand at the forearm and instead he gained a powerful iron weapon. She then, thanks to a dark ritual, became an integral part of his body. Dhemor was trained for merciless combat, whether with the enemies of Hell or the rebellious demons and fiends of the lower strata.

Face death

Dhemor attacked confidently. But now it wasn’t a hook. Instead, his weapon fired an iron ball studded with spikes. Belial reacted and only managed to jump at the last moment. The death round flew just past his head and exploded in a geyser of fire upon impacting a nearby rock.

Despite his size, Dhemor was extremely fast and attack after attack. Belial understood that there was no room for error. He took cover and jumped, he fought he gave everything for his life and fight. But what can a mere infernal servant do against a trained War Warden? In the ensuing fight, Dhemor lunged closer to Belial and swung at him with a huge paw tipped with sharp claws. Belial ducked nimbly and rolled away, then attacked himself and slashed Dhemor’s face with his claws. The Warden roared, more in surprise than pain, and reacted in a flash. With the iron weapon on his left hand, he delivered a crushing blow directly to Belial’s jaw. A blow from below lifted the poor devil off the ground and threw him several meters away where he crashed into a cracked lava wall. After this blow, the mortal’s skull would be crushed to a bloody pulp. Fortunately, however, Belial was a devil and not a mortal. After hitting the rock, Belial landed heavily on the ground. It was after the fight.

Belial stood up heavily and Dhemor was already with him. There was a rock wall behind him – there was no escape. Dhemor wanted to enjoy the death of his opponent. He held Belial by the neck and gripped tighter and tighter, wanting to look into his eyes until the life slowly drained from him. He wanted to hear his death growl and drag out the death agony as long as possible, slowly crushing the neck vertebrae one by one.

Belial knew it was over. The complete end. But something in him refused. And this despite the fact that his body was already losing consciousness under the giant pressure of the deadly grip of the massive claws, and the world began to sink into the darkness of impending death. In that strange moment, something unexpected happened, something in the deepest corner of the devil’s brain woke up, and then it broke free. Something that even Belial, let alone Dhemor, had no idea about. Something that was terrifying even by the standards of Hell itself!

The moment Belial saw only the dark veil of death, he felt that strange flame of rage again. The flame, which began to grow uncontrollably with a life of its own, spilled from the brain into the chest. The pressure of rage was unbearable. He had to get out, he had to get out even if his neck was clamped by the superhuman strength of the enemy’s steel muscles. And then it happened! Belial roared in a terrifying agony of immeasurable rage and hatred seeped out. Instead of a scream, however, a flame shot out of its mouth, striking Dhemor’s hitherto victorious face. Dhemor’s face turned into a grimace of terror.

Although fiends are resistant to fire, few can withstand the power of hellfire or infernal lava. Dhemor’s face was no exception. A roar of agony cut through the nightscape, only to turn into a wheeze as the flame ripped through the charred flesh to the overseer’s vocal cords. Then the grip loosened and the warder fell to the moonlit ground in an agony of pain.

The fate of the damned

Belial took a moment to recover. How is it possible that he can spit fire, and still this strong? Only higher devils have this ability, not just servants from the lowest levels of Hell. However, Dhemor’s whistling snapped him out of his thoughts, and he started thinking about what to do next. There is no going back after what just happened. If he wants to live, the gates of hell are closed to him. Where to go? In the end, he decided that it didn’t matter, but mainly far. The fact that a punitive expedition would be sent after him seemed more than likely.

The grim fears came true sooner than Belial expected. He hadn’t even reached the end of the volcanic mountain range when the air rippled on the horizon ahead of him. Then the glow of a magical portal appeared followed by a figure wearing a dark long hood and elegantly shaped horns on its head. The creature floated through the air, nothing detracting from its majesty as it held a sharp battle scythe in one hand and a horned skull hovered ominously above the other, slightly raised. The ornate metal parts of the armor gleamed and red eyes shone from beneath the hood. The strange thing was that apart from the glowing eyes, nothing could be seen of the face, only an unnatural darkness.

“At all the horned ones! Tartos, himself in person?”, he cursed and Belial was surprised at the same time. He turned on his hoof and wanted to start running with all his might. At that moment, however, he saw that he was surrounded on all sides. Behind him stood other hellish ghosts – servants of the ruler of the spectra of Tartos. And to make matters worse, hovering behind them were their pets – animated flying skulls with long fangs and demonically glowing eyes.

“What an honor to have Tartos and so many others come for me!”, Belial only thought before a powerful attack spell knocked him to the ground.