Liquidation: From Big Boss to Bloody Demon Sauce Chapter 6: Chapter 6: A Slime Needs A Pond

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Outside the castle, the politics of the Dark Glade were just as stagnant and suffocating as the castle interior. Luriel stood atop a jagged spire, her wings tucked tightly against her back as she looked out over the twisted, glowing flora of the glade. "How far have you fallen?" the voice hissed from the shadows. Luriel didn't turn. She knew the frequency of that voice—Grimora, a mid-tier succubus who had once been her subordinate in the grand invasion. Grimora was everything Luriel despised: petty, shortsighted, and content to rule over a pile of dirt so long as she was at the top of it. "Grimora, go back to the hole you crawled out of, or I will put you there personally," Luriel growled. "Yes, you might be stronger, but it fills me with ecstasy to know Markon has cast you aside! From the Progenitor of the Vanguard to the Warden of the Trash Heap! It’s poetic, really". Luriel’s response was silent and lethal. Black tendrils of raw, unrefined Ether erupted from her shadow, lashing out into the darkness with the speed of a striking viper. A choked scream followed. The tendrils retracted, dragging a thrashing, pink-skinned succubus into the dim light of the spire. Grimora was short, with exaggerated features that were designed to appeal to the basest instincts of mortals. Her small bat wings flapped uselessly as the Ether tendrils coiled around her throat and waist, tightening with a sickening, wet crunch. "Listen, Luriel! I was just playing! I know—". "Do not waste your lies on me," Luriel sneered, her eyes glowing with a cold, predatory light. "I am in a very particular mood, Grimora. My investment is currently refusing to grow, the Demon King is waiting for me to fail, and you are making noise in my ear". Luriel didn't just want to hurt her; she wanted to break her spirit. She flooded the tendrils with a surge of corrupted Ether, electrocuting Grimora’s nervous system. For twenty minutes, the only sound on the spire was the crackle of energy and the agonizing, rhythmic screams of the smaller succubus. The air grew thick with the smell of ozone and singed demonic flesh, a scent that Luriel found almost as refreshing as the silence that followed. When Luriel finally dropped her, Grimora was a smoking, quivering heap on the stone. "I have a job for you," Luriel said, her voice now terrifyingly calm. "I have a pet inside that castle. He is stubborn. He thinks his human will is enough to survive Xeenar. I need you to prove him wrong". Grimora coughed up a cloud of dark vapor, her eyes wide with terror. "You want me to... kill him?". "I want you to kill him mercilessly," Luriel corrected. "Over and over. I want him to understand that death is not an escape, but a revolving door that I own. Make him beg for my protection. Make him submit". Grimora blinked, her mind already racing for a way to turn this to her advantage. "Submit? Since when does a demon you create not submit automatically?". Luriel’s eyes darkened. "He was a king in his world, Grimora. He hasn't realized yet that in this one, he is barely a currency. Go. If he isn't broken by the time I return, I will use your essence to lubricate the next one". Grimora slithered away into the darkness, her hatred for Luriel burning brighter than ever. She would do as she was told—for now—but she would find a way to make this "pet" her own weapon. Back in the castle, I had reached a plateau. I was now nearly a liter in volume. I could move with significant speed, and I had learned to sense the presence of Ether even through walls. But the castle was "dry". I had eaten every speck of dust, every pocket of energy within my reach. I was starving. The hunger was unlike anything I had felt as a human. It wasn't a stomach ache; it was a structural instability. If I didn't find more Ether soon, I felt like my very consciousness would begin to dissolve, my sense of self fraying at the edges like a poorly managed ledger. My thoughts were becoming jagged, reduced to the binary of consume or ce