Chapter 21: Fortress

Lokus walked around the walls, gaining an appreciation for the size of the fortress. By his estimation, it was five kilometers from end to end, and roughly square in shape.

After a while, he found the gate the irate doorman had mentioned and approached its iron portcullis, which was currently closed. There was no line, which wasn't much of a surprise considering the location, but there also wasn't anyone Lokus could spot manning the gate.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness. "I'd like to enter."

A rustling noise sounded from somewhere along the walls behind the gate, out of view of his Domain, and a man appeared behind the portcullis. He was armored in a helmet made of bone and rather bulky gauntlets of the same material, and squinted at Lokus in the darkness.

"The hell…?"

The man, unlike the doorman from before, was obviously taken aback by Lokus' appearance. Even without his eyesight, Lokus' blood- and vomit-covered skin, raggedy pants, frozen bite marks, and the uncannily inhuman human-like mask were on full display to the man's Domain.

For a moment, he wondered if he had gone mad in the dark, or if this was some new kind of demon trying to trick its way into the fortress and eat them all while they slept. When he got to this point in his thoughts, his expression hardened, remembering his duty.

"State your name and purpose," the man demanded, his hand tightening on the spear in his hands. If worse came to worst, he could jab at the foul thing through the safety of the portcullis until it fled.

"Lokus. I'm just looking for a safe place to sleep, and maybe a way to get out of these caves."

"How do I know you're not a demon? That mask looks awfully like a masked demon's mask."

Lokus just shrugged, taking his mask off and revealing his face. "Does this look like the face of a demon?"

The man pressed his lips into a thin line, fingering the haft of his spear. "You can never tell with those things. If you've managed to find your way down here, then you're either a Monarch or a demon by my reckoning. But you can speak Talzen, so…"

The man scratched his chin as he leaned on his spear, not knowing what to think.

"Maybe this will help?" Lokus asked the man, untying the bag from his thigh and pulling out a handful of the demon claws within. This time, he knew to use his Domain and only pulled out five Minor Prince claws.

The man squinted, scratching his chin some more in thought as he weighed his options.

"Still doesn't prove you aren't a demon in disguise."

"Have you ever seen a demon wear pants?"

"…No, I suppose I haven't. But at the same time, humans wandering Grimn's Nerves are rare, so you'll excuse me for being skeptical. Let me go ask my boss, I can't just let anyone inside."

The man disappeared around the corner, leaving Lokus alone with his invisible guard demon.

'They seem awfully paranoid here,' he thought to himself. 'I didn't know demons could look like humans. Then again, I've only met what? Four of them? …Wait, what did he call this place?"

Before Lokus could ponder the potential connections between the name of this place and his Grimn bloodline, the man came back with another in tow.

This new man was clothed in much nicer raiment than his companion, with a well-trimmed handlebar mustache and a piercing gaze that demanded respect even in the dark of the caves.

A sword fashioned from bone hung at his belt, and a leather cape from his shoulders, but unlike the first man, he wore no armor.

"What the hell happened to you?" the well-dressed man said immediately upon seeing Lokus.

"Demons," Lokus said simply. "What else?"

The man snorted. "Based on the way you still have your wits about you, you're either a demon or a Monarch. So, which is it?"

"I don't know what a Monarch is," Lokus said. "But I am a Prince. See?"

He raised his hand, and ice crept down his fingers at a noticeable rate. When he stopped fueling the process with Majesty, the thin layer of frost quickly melted, and he wiped his damp hands off on his pants.

"A Prince IS a Monarch," the mustachioed man said with narrowed eyes. "Strange that you don't know that. And what's that mask in your hand there?"

"Got it from a demon. Why?"

"It looks like the work of a masked demon."

"That's what I said, sir," the other man chimed in. "Should we let him in?"

"Hm…" The man with the mustache took some time to think it over. He had the safety of everyone else in the fortress to consider, and if this man was a demon in disguise, the resulting deaths would be on his shoulders. "Let him in."

"You sure, sir?"

"Yes." He turned to Lokus in the darkness, his gaze seeming to see him even in the gloom. "But we'll be watching you. If you stir up trouble, we won't hesitate to put you to the sword. We'll also need that weapon you have there. You'll get it back when we know we can trust you. Got that?"

"Understood," Lokus replied.

Donning his mask once more, he strode under the portcullis after it opened, grimacing as the metal contraption fell back down behind him with a loud CLANG that shook the cavern. As he handed them his axe, he asked the men a question.

"Where can I go to get something to eat?" He hadn't eaten since he fell down here, and his stomach was beginning to protest at this fact.

"There's the mess hall about two hundred meters that way," said the helmeted man, who pointed a finger in a certain direction. "As for where you'll be resting your head, you'll have to figure that one out yourself. Our barracks are full."

"Thanks." With that, Lokus headed further into the fortress, marveling at his surroundings while he walked.

Rather than a castle like he was expecting, the fortress was more like a miniature city, with individual buildings and passersby everywhere he looked. Nothing really looked like a house, and everything was made from the same stone as the fortress's walls.

It wasn't long before he found what he was looking for, a squat, long stone building with a sign hanging above its door that said, in raised letters so as to be legible with one's Domain, "MESS HALL."

Lokus opened the door, taking a step inside.

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