"Found anything useful?" I asked as I stood behind Beatrice, watching as she worked her magic on the captured red-cloaked demons.
Pink light kept shooting from their eyes directly into her own, as she extracted their memories one by one. She didn't even need to touch them—just a simple gaze was enough to make them spill their guts.
'I need this kind of skill,' I thought to myself as I watched in awe.
Devour is a great ability with a lot of benefits, including memory gain; however, the target's life tends to… expire after use.
Beatrice's skill, on the other hand, is far more… subtle. And clean.
'Do I need to devour succubi to get the skill?' I thought for a moment, only to realize something. 'Maybe I'll unlock it after I level up? I am a royal succubus too.'
"Just a sec," she replied, her focus never wavering.
The leader of the squad, the one who had overseen the transaction, was still frozen under her spell. His body stood rigid, a puppet whose strings were now held by the formidable succubus before him. His vacant eyes stared into hers, and I could almost see the streams of information flowing between them.
As for the rest, they were kneeling behind him, their heads bowed, their bodies still.
While the purple-haired demon—who was Beatrice in disguise—was doing her thing, I took a moment to stretch and get used to my new body.
Or my former gender.
Ahh~… It's good to be a man once again.
No extra opening between the legs, no swaying weight on my chest, no constant, low-key awareness of hips and curves that had started feeling more natural than I wanted to admit. Just… solid. Grounded. Balance. Familiarity.
The familiar heft between my thighs, the broader shoulders, the deeper timbre waiting in my throat.
I rolled my neck, listening to the satisfying pop of vertebrae realigning, and let out a long, contented breath that fogged faintly in the chill air of Hell's never-quite-warm wasteland.
I looked down at my hands. They were larger, scarred, and crackling with a hidden, violent potential. Being a royal succubus was fun for the perks of manipulation, but this? This felt like power.
"Heh…" I muttered. "Yeah. I missed this."
In order to execute our plan, I had to reveal to Beatrice that I could turn back into a male.
At first, she didn't think much about it, assuming that I'd do the same thing as her—illusion magic along with shapeshifting to give my female body a male appearance.
But when she saw me for the first time in my new form, her reaction was… priceless.
Her eyes, those pools of fresh-spilled blood, widened. She stared, not at my face, but lower, her lips parting slightly in genuine, unadulterated shock. For a full five seconds, the formidable royal succubus who had kept teasing me for the past few days was utterly speechless.
"Haaah~"
Beatrice finally exhaled, the pink glow fading from her eyes like embers dying in ash. She blinked once, twice, then straightened her back with a faint groan, as if stretching a muscle no one else could see.
"Annoying little ants," she said. "They scurry so much inside their own heads."
"So?" I prompted. "Worth the ambush?"
She glanced at me sideways, lips curling.
"Oh, very."
That got my attention.
She stepped away from the frozen leader, circling him slowly, one finger trailing through the air as if tracing invisible strings.
"The Red Baron's network is bigger than we guessed," she began, her tone shifting from playful to business-cold in an instant. "The pigman was just one of many pens. He operates in dozens of sectors, using different intermediaries to move the goods."
The 'goods' being slaves, and I couldn't help but cast a glance at the black-haired succubus to my left.
She stood there motionless, with the black crystal on her forehead.
I had no idea what Beatrice had promised this girl to make her part of our plan, but it must have been big. Or maybe Beatrice simply used her charm and illusions to make her think she was with the slaves.
Or maybe none at all, and Beatrice simply used the succubus as a real slave. That black crystal wasn't fake after all.
Anyway, she didn't say, and I didn't ask. Not my business.
"These men here are responsible for transferring the 'goods' to their underground base," Beatrice added.
"What base?" I asked, my interest piqued.
Beatrice's smile widened, showing a hint of fang.
"An old fortress to the east, called the Crimson Bastion," she replied. "It was built a long time ago during the Great War, but now it's used as a free hub for demons who wander Hell."
She paused, her eyes glowing again as she pulled more information from the demon's mind.
"The Red Baron uses the fortress as a cover. The real base is underground. A massive labyrinth built under the fortress."
"Hmph… a labyrinth? This is going to be fun," I said, a grin stretching my lips. I've always had a thing for labyrinths.
Great place to find loot.
"It's not just a labyrinth, Azariel." Beatrice's expression turned grim. "Something evil is happening down there. Too bad these fuckers here have never been there. They only drop the 'goods' at the entrance."
"Then we'll make them lead us," I said, turning my gaze to the captured demons. "Right?"
"Of course," she nodded. "But before that, I learned something interesting. Something about the Red Baron."
I remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"He's a royal incubus," she said. The look in her eyes gave me a hint of the hatred she held for the Red Baron.
My eyebrows shot up. A royal incubus? That was… unexpected.
"So?" I said, trying to act uninterested. "Do you know who he is?"
"No, but this discovery narrows down my suspect list significantly," she said, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "There aren't many royal incubi left."
She paused for a moment, looking at the frozen demon leader.
"All right. Time to go."
With a snap of her fingers, the red-cloaked demons unfroze—but they didn't move.
They were still under her control.
"What's our plan?" I asked again, preparing myself.
"Simple." Beatrice's lips curled into a predatory smile. "We sneak in, find more information, destroy the base, kill the Red Baron, and get out."
"Sneak in how?" I asked, ignoring the fact that her plan was basically 'go in and kill everything.'
Beatrice pointed at the captured demons.
"They will be our ticket in," she said. "Going in is easy. Their whole group was built around the idea that male demons are superior to females, so they don't have any security checks for their own 'brutes'—at least for the entrance to the fortress."
"And after that?" I pressed.
"We improvise."
"…"
I really hate her plans.
"Fine, but I'm moving alone," I said, cracking my knuckles.
"Be my guest, my handsome hero," she purred, her eyes roaming over my male form again.
I just rolled my eyes. If not for the mission, I bet she would be bouncing on my dick right now. Not that I would mind, of course.
HOLD ON A SECOND!!! …She wasn't thinking of the opposite, right? Me… bouncing on her…? No. Nonono. I AM A MAN!
"Let's just go," I said, trying to shake away the unwelcome thought.
"Hehehe," she just laughed at my reaction, and with a flick of her wrist, the captured demons turned and started marching toward the Crimson Bastion.
...
It took us about five hours to reach the fortress.
By the standards of Hell, it was almost… quaint.
The Crimson Bastion wasn't a towering spire of obsidian or a nightmare fortress carved from screaming souls. It was squat, brutal, functional—massive walls of jagged, blood-red stone cobbled together with something darker than mortar, squatting on the landscape like a toad.
Ugly as fuck!
We approached from the east, the red-cloaked captured demons leading the way. Their movements were surprisingly normal, even under Beatrice's control. From what I could tell, she 'charmed' them and slightly 'modified' their memories.
Now they see the two of us as one of their own.
As we got closer, the sounds of the fortress reached us—shouts, laughter, the clang of metal on metal, and the occasional scream.
When we reached the gate, two huge, horned demon guards stopped us.
"Halt!" one of them barked, his hand resting on the hilt of a massive axe.
The leader of the red-cloaked squad stepped forward.
"Returning from a delivery," the leader said, his voice flat. "Got more goods for the basement."
The guard's eyes scanned over us. He spent a bit too much time on Beatrice's 'disguise,' a lewd grin spreading on his face.
"Well, well… What have we here? New recruits?" the guard said, his eyes roving over Beatrice's illusory form, then to me. "And a pretty one too. I might have to 'initiate' you personally."
'What a pig,' I thought, fighting the urge to break his neck. He's a man, and Beatrice's disguise was a male one. This guy is gay… or bi. Who knows.
Beatrice, however, didn't even flinch.
She just gave a slow, deliberate smile, and that smile freaked the shit out of me. For a fleeting second, I saw her gaze shift toward me when I thought about guy-to-guy action.
'This woman!!' I cursed internally. 'She's not even pretending.'
Before the guard could say anything else, the leader of the red-cloaked squad tossed a small, heavy pouch at the guard. It jingled.
The guard immediately lost interest in Beatrice and me, catching the pouch with a greedy grin.
"Welcome back," the guard said, stepping aside. "It's good to have more brothers in our great family."
'Brothers, my ass.'