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My wings flew me to the city of Dis. The nearest one. As I approached, I planned on how I would do something like this. Building an army wasn\'t a thing I did in the past—I had no need for one beyond a bunch of guards to protect my territory from nuisances.

An army to fight a god required more thinking. For a start, there was a problem of logistics. Only so many creatures could attack a single person at once without hitting each other, and if said creatures were weaklings, they would just become a smear on the god\'s weapon in an instant. A being of divine level could wipe out an army of them and don\'t get tired.

So, I needed at least somewhat competent (compared to me) warriors for my army. And less of an army and more of an… elite team. Elite team big enough so there\'d be plenty of spares, and to attack all of the Twelve at once if necessary. One hundred forty-four demons—twenty squared—seemed like a good number to aim for.

And to make sure they were powerful, I would test their prowess by… holding a tournament. But first, I would have to kick someone\'s ass so they would organise it. Now, the question—who was the current ruler of Dis?

The stone—not flamerock, just stone—walls and houses of the city came out from the shroud of smoke before me, and so did the couple of demons that patrolled the outer perimeter. One of them had a belt made of bird heads, and both had bows made of someone\'s horns. They noticed me too, and aimed at me with arrows, tips of which were made from flamerock.

They didn\'t even try to tell me to land first. Rude.

Though, when I swiped away the arrows they shot at me and landed near, they changed their demeanour in an instant, falling to their knees.

"Forgive us the offence, dear guest," they spoke in unison like a speech they knew by heart. "We are acting under the order of our great lord, the Master of Sin, to not let weak demons enter. You may kill us for it, but this will be a slight to our lord for not respecting his right to test the mettle of whoever wishes to enter his city."

I took a closer look at them. They looked like barely demons at all. The demon with bird heads had more signs of transformation, from the scorched rough skin to the reddish eyes. The other looked much less adapted, and even now was wiping his eyes, teary from the constant smoke at this circle of Hell, with his hand.

They were weaklings himself, if you asked me. I could tell that neither of them would dodge an arrow from their bows, either. But the rules of the Master of Sin were a benefit for my goals. Though, if this was his standard…

"Where is he, your lord?" I asked.

"He lives in the palace. It\'s… well, it\'s the only palace," the older demon said, raising his eyes at me. "Are you going to spare us, dear guest?"

I shrugged. "You aren\'t worth shit. Might as well."

"Then please, let one of us report to the Master of Sin if you wish to have an audience with him. He dislikes uninvited guests, and the guards are ordered to fight those, and, and…" The guard wilted under my unimpressed stare. "And we are one of them. Have mercy!" He finished lamely.

"How often you are killed by guests who don\'t enjoy being shot at?"

"There are few guests, so… twice in the last three hundred days, I think."

"I think it was thrice," the younger guard piped in. "The bull guy, the crazy bird, and the hound."

"Oh, right. I forgot about the bird. So, three times." The bird guard scratched the back of his head, flaking away nail-sized patches of skin. "You still have a better memory than I do."

Yeah, weaklings. "You aren\'t worth my time. Nor are your pals. Bring me to your Master of Sin."

"Right away, dear guest!" the flaking guard jumped up to a board-straight position and tried to make something like a salute with a bow. The other repeated the gesture, but with even less grace. "Please, follow. Rova, go with me." He gestured to the younger guard.

I soon regretted my decision to do so when I realised that since the guards were earthbound, so was I. I could haul one of them, but not both. We had to walk to one of the gates to the city, past more guards, then on the streets…

It gave me time to sightsee, but first, what was there that I didn\'t see before, second, what was there worth seeing? Decrepit stone buildings, souls, demons, and everyone inbetween clinging to the walls and hiding in alleyways, fighting for the scraps of meat they often tore off each other. This was no city. Just a shape of one, and even that was so-so.

The only exception was the palace. It was, indeed, hard to miss. It was the only building that had the signs of repair and cleaning to it, with windows made with—imagine that!—actual glass, and even had decor.

And guards. Of course, guards. An entire dozen of them just before the gates.

"Who wishes to enter?" their lieutenant asked me and my entourage when we approached. "State your name and business and let the Master of Sin decide if you are worthy to enter."

Despite an authoritative tone, he looked like someone who realised a disparity between himself (just another demon, a hundred years old tops) and me (someone with enough mutations that Hell must\'ve shaped me for a millennium).

I smiled. It was, for once, a proper smile—as in, I morphed my face into a human face so I could turn my lips upwards and not just stretch them.

"My business is fighting. My name… you know me as Devourer.. And as for reasons to let me in, your Master of Sin does it or he has no palace and no guards to speak of."