Reincarnated as a Duck: A beast progression litrpg isekai-Chapter 246: Business with a devil

Gods were very high and mighty in prestige and vague in shouded powers of age and history. Around the Skies—or the spaces within them—their reputation was like an advent, legend, and birth to many stories.

Some took them for everything. Others for less. This world, the Battleworld, took them for an extensive staying power, as well as throbbing shard chipped to this land. A cloud, one might say. Be it Hells, the Surface, or the Sky, every living being on this planet was taking their position very carefully. Some should do it more, but everyone wanted something more.

It was a kind of rare occurrence for so many Gods to flock into a single world. In most worlds, godly positions were far too high and difficult to achieve, or they were fake or almost inconceivable for most lesser beings.

Part of the reason was the sheer scale and prevalence of such positions, making living cultures reluctant to see the greater beliefs ascertained by core lands and secrets of the universe. One God or a few could be more than enough for any planet. They would be a deity protector or a legend watching from shadows.

There were hundreds of such figures alone in this world, living and influencing beings to follow their steps or die for them, or their sake. This made this world special and inconceivably superior.

Razmund learned about it with shock and mixed his old discoveries with a new kind of life, for he had no idea about Gods or the broader universe.

Gods held onto a savage power that most mortals could not even think about, but judging, that they could do. It was a stage where one viewed life and death from unique perspectives, while politics from the peak or rising sense of self, right below the mortals, who should follow the suit of rules and common sense, wasn't pristine or clean, let alone meant for everyone.

It wasn't all about the Laws as well. It was concerning the way this universe was acting and working for countless years and cycles.

Battleworld tried to be the same, though it had many extreme sides and faces that many worlds wouldn't bear lightly.

Here, very few Extremes should think twice about surrendering or working with Gods, as differences between them were like ants before humans. Knowing the limit. Knowing the ways. One should bear that in mind and deal with it.

Razmund met his End to see a world where Gods lived unimpeded, and flaunted the world in an unlike fashion, making the former Old World a thing of the past, while his own previous life was like a fever dream.

It was a very difficult process, though he was a human, and those have it quite good in this world, where human Sky Gods were apparently better off than any other faction.

Why, he often wondered. Razmund still held his pivotal mind and clarity over his flesh and body and took this world for a new chance. He was Blessed, owing a position that was very sensitive to some beings or one particular God for some reason. Few would ever realize what they entailed and why the way of the Afterlife created a bunch of anomalies.

They meddled with them lives, thinking that Blessed were simple fools and tools for their acts, but they weren't and always could be. Razmund knew about it and realized a life could get very brittle and humans broken with the thinnest of examples and pushes. That happened ages ago.

This entire world was one large playground, yet for what or for whom? The reason for this existence wasn't for the Gods to live or for mortals to worship the Gods. Planets could be lifeless, not doing anything more than staying in place, colliding with others, or simply growing like resources or seeds to auth.

Razmund lost the perception of normalcy a long time ago. His past life was merely a point in existence that no longer mattered to him, but it was a reminder that wouldn't give him any curses. That planet was gone, out of his sight if he wouldn't become the God or someone better.

Standing and looking at Lint, he wondered if Blessed and Guides were similar or not. They definitely held some words and aspects close to a mist and water, where many things were different, like mud, honey, and blood to water.

Freedom. That word maintained a lot of meaning in this world. What was a free action, judgment, consequence, or desire? Hardly anything was as manageable as a tree growing in the backyard or mana flowing through everything.

Spirits and souls were free, guided by acts of physical possessions, while it was those souls that seemed to want a prudent side of control or be latched onto something.

Power and the dashing rush to get more of it in this world were the same. Everything was growing and growing some more, and Gods were watching and doing the same thing.

Razmund sighted, forcing the succubus before him to wince and reclaim her face.

“W-what I may do for you besides... a manager? M...”

“Sent those rooks, girl.” Lint barked at her, sounding lofty and tall. For a half-skeleton the size of a normal human, he sounded weird, and his acts were as if he was a boss of this place. Perhaps he once was, or he wasn't, but he felt like that anyway.

Succubus lost her voice so she forfeited her position and hurried away, exposing her long tail akin to a snake behind her, and small wings on her back retracted and looked tinier than hands.

“What are you planning next?” Lint said smugly, half glancing at her back and indicating his words at Razmund.

Razmund yawned, leaning on the reception and watching no one. His claymore was back in its pouch where it unfortunately belonged. “Catch my prey. It is down, I know. The Dice knows. Somewhere.”

“Where? Are you really going down without much plan or what? Aren't you fearing the rumors of a Hunt below and how it will go between us and everyone? Hunters are there already. Not sure how their Side got there though. Must be an error, but... the Dice. I don't think you should rely on it. Perhaps use the Hunters to your advantage.”

“Nah. I have a good idea what I want to do. Why not think this place is just bad and wrong? I will kill anyone who...well, I don't know what kind of a beast that Grifhart is, but he isn't alone, frankly.”

“Frankly?” Lint chuckled. “Your acknowledgment that he isn't there alone went public in your stunt and arrival. It means nothing much to us. Well, for Rataratan and his men, it means a lot. One way or another, some companies will send more men below after realizing what is going on because of you. Some might get them out, if not even help them. More could also fear the clash, I think. Some are clever, you see, maybe willing to work with you if you act well.”

“Or you will.”

Lint cracked his chin, and his eyes rolled. “Oh, man. You don't learn, do you?”

“Eh,” Razmund hadn't realized all his part to such an extent and didn't consider companies or what Lint just said. “Rataratan had no complaints that some fools went down against his wishes, so my way inside is the same.”

“Are you surprised? Leaving is the tough part, Razmund, while your opposite part is obviously going back to the surface. They can't get away from this land, and... why the hell are they even here?! That is why what and who goes below isn't crucial. Why they even got there is the primary questionable thing. Good for you, I guess. You can wait for them here and catch them, or even those who might do it before you.”

Razmund paused his next argument, thinking that Lint had said enough and not everything. It was true. The notes about the portal were important, but what about the sensible ways of teleportation arrays? Could his target use them to get to the lower levels and get out of his sight? It was possible, so he was in a pinch.

He grabbed some food and water from one of his pouches and waited for the manager.

In a while, under the succubus's fast work, a manager of the Looming Mining Company arrived, looking tough, nervous, and tidy in his uniform. He was part of Rataratan's forces, but not in an army or anything like that. He was more like a past part, looking solid, clever, and experienced, so not much of a threat, was he?

He was an old devil wearing a suit, hunching in his back, and looking ashed in his skin. Ages took a large chunk out of him, shivering his body and heart to new proportions but not into inferiority.

Age might be blissful, even when frail and old. For some, it was fine to age. Without holding much power, his management, experience, and governing skills were what he could offer. It was a passion coming after living hundreds of years in this world, and anyone like that had something to offer even for Extremes and any armies.

In companies, there were many needs for clever and decisive folks. Devil or not, any beings with experience have to manage their acts and know their surroundings. That went along with defeats and wins, and losses of value or gained advantages. Retirement wasn't an option for the devil. It would mean a quicker End. A true loss of everything that made them up from their conception to living.

Such old devils had plenty of experiences to offer, though not many powerful forms were left within them to pass on. If their time wasn't there for them at all, then creating or borrowing more was all that remained.

Still, they could become important for their clan or families in name or prevalence for generations, as their hearts and teaching capabilities could be very high and worthy of praise.

It was common for most whose age was good, and for some of such cases with very potent life, they might be more significant than the previous lives of Blessed. Humans were similar, and so were elves and many other races scattered around the Battleworld.

Age could shiver those giving up or running out of their ends, though, for those old yet still powerful, it often meant something else. Choices. It was a simple matter of gesture and thinking. Old folks had more chances up their asses, and Razmund knew there was a point in rushing and also bowing down where he should.

He knew many old monsters that were far from looking like this devil, simply because they hadn't stopped their pursuit of power, or their luck or talent was much higher than one could judge by eyes alone. Bodies could hide things. Their pockets might be bottomless because of their age and work.

It was a simple play between races where few beings were equal and calm. Everyone had some Bloodline differences and body preferences, and what one could handle before their End were differences between life and death.

Looking forward, Razmund finished his meal and glanced at this old devil. Their kin favored an official sort of clothing for some reason, which made them look older and much more stable than their nature.

Razmund wasn't sure why or what the point in that was. Their nature was unlike his. This one was smallish for a devil, yet his suit was glinting in quality and style, making his accessories pop off. Those little horns were surely impressive, even if he seemed to look one way into the End.

His little pair of horns on his bald head protruded like needless from the wet bread, or did they look like grass?

Razmund had many thoughts as he looked silently at this old devil. He was very close to joking around and angering him as well. He almost chuckled as the manager arrived with a succubus beside him, holding his arm and supporting his shoulder with her tail.

“Ohoho. Does a Surface Challenger seek this place for real? At such time and pace. I miss it. Oh, I miss it. Oh, a Guide floats too, looking like a bird. What bird? What a rarity. What a rarity. Who do we have here... again? What is time? Age? Is it time for dinner yet?” the old devil said, sounding rather apprehensive and old as he looked, but he stood his ground before this one head taller human and a flying Guide without one shred of shake.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

The succubus beside him adjusted her position and leaned down, whispering something to him. “Dinner is not ready, mister Lanzedar. They want... business, you see. The kind that might concern us and our business. Business, I mean.”

Suddenly, the old devil called Lanzedar strengthened his back, eyes glinted as his lost wits returned, and even the succubus lost her grip and hiccuped at the sudden change. As expected, she politely stepped away and knew this wasn't a regular visit and her boss would take it on.

She went for the Prime Manager of this company, instead of many other lesser managers. Lanzedar looked years younger, like a toss of blissful water washed over his face. Quite a bit of pressure went from his body and eyes, making him younger and taller, but it was far from some domain skill or simple rave of mana or something else.

He temporarily judged to appease his heart and transform for the sake of business.

Razmund felt it like the breeze of an old wind. He could kill this old devil in an instant if he wished. Perhaps even without any weapons, it would be possible. A simple fist could sometimes do as much damage as a well-aimed kick or a toss over one's shoulders. Of course, a big cleaving sword swinging around the air could create a much bigger disparity.

Lanzedar cracked his neck and fingers before adjusting his tie and putting his palms on the reception desk.

“Hmmm...” he hummed, observing and waiting for the business to state their appeal. He hadn't told anything else, but his glint and attention to the Guide showed a distinct resolve and powerful gaze of a clever maniac. It was the face of a master appraiser who judged the worth of many things and beings alike.

Lint flew down, reaching Lanzedar's position and tapping the desk with his single hand.

“You see, manager, Rataratan won't move against us, so we are looking for something. We have done a great deal of trouble and don't look for more. We have seen him also, so whatever nonsense rules or Rataratan is around aren't fit for our ears. Oh, I don't have ears, so...”

Lanzedar eyed him as he clicked his tongue and tapped the table with his palms, looking impatient or bothered by Lint's comment or rolling sizzling Soul Flames.

Lint nervously shifted his arm, thinking how this old devil was sharper than he looked, and he couldn't do much better with a single bony arm. “Alright. We want authority to travel through your underground passages without any speck of problems. That is what we want. A simple cooperation.” He finished his sentence successfully, which included looking tougher than he felt and sounded.

Razmund cocked his head and smiled at this situation. If Lint wanted to deal with this part, he would gladly let him, but he shouldn't hurry, or he... might?

New novel 𝓬hapters are published on freёwebnoѵel.com.

Razmund was still half worried about the current matters, and frankly, he didn't know what to do. He hardly felt comfortable enough to have a goal in life. And that was coming from him, a Blessed who was part of one hell of an Encounter that already involved Gods at its first Part.

After all, why was he here? To catch Murai? That sounded simpler than he thought. He also knew there was no portal in this location, so acting stupid shouldn't be very hard.

Thus, going forth and trying was a plan. His plan, that is. Centralis thought something else, and it failed to do anything about this location because it didn't need to. It wasn't marked by anything else than a deep valuable location in this desert and mining. Nothing else.

Hurrying shouldn't have been a problem when his target was beneath him. Like with some Encounters, it required patience.

Perhaps he should wait for his prey in this city, yet he wasn't a patient type. However, if there was a better time to catch up, it was deep in the mines where running away wasn't so easy. And with Ceila on the way, there was no way he could wait here forever.

After all, his opposing Side made a very questionable decision, and it came suddenly. They did more than well beforehand, so he questioned this choice and felt something was amiss.

Lanzedar furrowed his sharp brows and adjusted his tie once again; it was already perfect, yet he seemed to do it on his own violations, or he was used to doing it all the freaking time. Either way, it wasn't out of place. He took a deep breath and thought about this situation four times before speaking.

“Name' Lanzedar, by the way, and what sir Rataratan does is many businesses and caring. This company is under his name, you see. I am under his name. A lofty one, I might add, so what is business to us is different if it means a price and payment. I am sure he can and can't overlook many things, so some opinions of a Guide are... warranted under some thoughts, but I can assure you that this isn't a matter decided easily. Whoever you were or are, the Sides and acts depend on outer visions. We are private. We can ignore requests if it means nuisance.”

“I insist that we aren't here for problems,” Lint said again, sounding serious but not threatening.

“I heard there were plenty of problems in many ways and days, right, Nostralis?”

Succubus lightly nodded; her hands were clasped behind her back, and her tail flinched around like a mindless snake. “Precisely, sir Lanzedar.” She said politely.

Lanzedar raised his brows, curving them aside of his eyes into a spiral. “I am not dumb, you see.”

“And what's the point?” Lint said dismissively. “Business is here, isn't it? No dramas.”

“Nostralis?” he asked his assistant again. “What were the happenings down across all the foolish companies and matters disguised as cheap or big troubles? I recall there are recent and old uproars.”

Nostralis stepped closer, cocking her head down and smiling at this Guide and threatening man. “Many matters, sir. Divine Party is one part. It appears to go onwards and onwards, while the Encounter and Hunt are unprecedented all at the same time. A Hunted went down the Entrance Five. Level 70 Grifhart is worth many Points and effort. Clutch one for a slave and it is even better. He is there, below, mining while many hunt him for an animal he is. Contracted by mining company... Oh, and he is a Helper, following the Lost Brot...”

Lanzedar cocked his head this time around, turning his head without anything else moving.

Nostralis shivered. “S-sir?”

“They are troublemakers, aren't they? Man. Everyone.”

“Who isn't in this situation?” Lint asked. “Another Side of the Encounter is aside from us, by the way, itching his sword to cut you both in half. Don't try it. He is nervous and very much ready to trouble you kin.”

“What good that would do to you or us?” Lanzedar turned his head to them again, unbothered by this empty threat. Well, that was wrong. When he glanced at the human more, he began to suspect there was something worse before him than he thought.

“Little or nothing. If anything else,” Lint answered, knocking on the table with his fingers, “we are hunting the other Side rather than aiming at anything else. We might get some Gems specifically for you, manager. Consider it my courtesy while my silent meaning does the rest.”

“Oh, the other Side?” Lanzedar frowned, scratching his tie. “That would mean they are below, not just that Grifhart, right, Nostralis?”

“Precisely,” she nodded. “It was confirmed in the Entrance Five. No one had seen the rest of their group for a good while, but they entered publicly without leaving. Heard they made some purchases and desired to go mining. That is all. Restrictions and rumors and getting transparency over this land is not easy. Not when... the thing is involved.”

Razmund whistled, figuring this much must have been a good bait for others, or... accurate to the bone? It seemed far-fetched to think of that as something clear for them. He had clarity. He heard the Fate!

Lanzedar saw through this situation in a heartbeat and watched this sole Blessed before him. “Oh, so you are confirming to us that we have unfilial miners below who want to steal from us? From ME? From RATARATAN? From our DEAR Lady?” he slapped the table thrice to make a point and chuckled afterward. “Oh, that doesn't concern us, as they can't leave without leaving through the entrances. So,” Lanzedar tapped the table again, “what do you want?”

“Down we go,” Lint said again, thinking that this conversation was going nowhere.

“Do you care for some complimentary mining? Is that so?” Lanzedar asked, his eyes gleaming with a hint of madness and killing. He was an old devil in retirement, but he was damn sure about planning and acting according to his heart and Rataratan's rules and wishes. If he had to, he would fight anyone his heart desired.

“We hunt,” Lint said calmly again. “Seeing the place below is better done in the best way possible. Your Arrays or elevator would help us as well, and we need to know if the array formations would get activated or touched beneath. It is about returning.”

Lanzedar hummed, thinking. “Hunting and hunting. That poise a bother, as who do hunt again, when hunted are all. Nostralis?”

“A bunch of fools, sir. Challengers who came before this man. An Anati...” Nostralis stepped away, noticing a couple of holes in the table and a creaking floor.

Lanzedar frowned so steeply that his veins bulged until blood flowed from his nose and some cracked veins, changing his skin and making his eyes glow like suns. “One is here? Right now?”

“S-sir... This is not good for your health.” Nostralis hurried, pressing her chest at him, and tried to calm him down.

It hardly helped, for the heart and mind moved at something deeper than lust. Even her Bloodline had no power over the current desires and heart of this old devil.

“Tell me, Human Challenger,” Lanzedar turned his sight to Razmund, who appeared calm and looking straight into those crazy awakened eyes. “is your Side strong? You look... young and healthy. For a human kid, call me impressed.”

“Whom you used to be, old devil?” Razmund asked.

“Hers,” he replied simply.

“God's tool. Old and expanded tired? How pointless for a...” Razmund stepped back in time just as dozens of bloody droplets flew by, obliterating the wall behind him and continuing to the unknown.

Lanzedar hadn't moved one bit of flesh.

“Well, you are certainly not as bad as a walking corpse,” Razmund added.

“Humans are so fragile, you see. I could take you for the last time for the sake of my heart, human.” The devil cracked his fingers but sighed after feeling pain within his knuckles. “Alas, the business is dearer to my life than the degree of this heart. Would you be that kind to take this old devil's mind at ease and listen to my...”

“I refuse,” Razmund said coldly. “Is it a grudge? You don't like these creatures, obviously, nor think that well of the Lost Brothers. Is it an interest or some cooperation mishaps?”

Lanzedar kept his frown and felt Nostralis pressing his side. Shivering, he kept cooling down one press, breath, and rub at a time. “I don't judge. I feel and hate. Humans... Beasts. Breasts. D... Ana... NO! I can't! You...”

“Whatever, old devil. It is a much easier job if you are inclined to help us out,” Lint said. “Encounter is following us to the underground, so we move down. Isn't that easy? Will you stop us?”

This completely turned Lanzedar aghast and burned his blood. Encounter? Under the freaking Ip'ur Mountain and his pair of eyes? That didn't sound good at all, while the fact of two Challengers going against each other and hunters was another thing altogether. It didn't seem to touch mining, but it might. And that would cause many problems if many miners were included.

It was a peculiar problem for most mining companies alone, and as the biggest manager in this hole, he had a lot to consider. For once, he misjudged Rataratan to allow this to go this far. Mindarch and Levandis hadn't stated shit. He was retired, so that made sense for him. Knocking on his door, a problem found him instead.

For Challengers or miners, nothing here was a problem. It was a straight-up opportunity for slaves and anyone to gain some momentum, and it wouldn't often happen again.

So, Lanzedar understood implied and wondering matters, what they meant, and what was their point. The business was inevitable, so he furrowed his brows, turned, grabbed Nostralis by her neck, and glared at her eyes. “No words, precisely?” he whispered to her terrified face. She nodded before disappearing from this terrific entrance. No one dared to follow or trouble them.

“Follow me,” Lanzedar said, pointing to the side of the rooms, where there were doors and staircases. “We go down, isn't it? I accept the proposition, but you will hear me out.”

Lint turned to Razmund, who shrugged and went along with him.

Lanzedar stepped to a set of stairs that led to privacy and underground facilities of this rich company, which held a significant portion of this business beneath the building, where most mining business was. Below was more of an afterthought, or a private matter.

Most of the Ip'ur City didn't have that many levels onto it. Elevated, protected by walls, barriers, and shades, the underground was better for air, where heat wouldn't come that easily.

He walked down with his hands behind his back, guiding this human and floating Guide as if he were looking forward to their Ends. “I won't deny the workable condition of the current mess, unless,” he stopped and glared at Razmund a step behind, “you've already made some things public, human. The entrance, I mean. Has Rataratan really showed himself?”

Razmund smirked, gesturing for Lint to continue doing his job as he desired.

“Define what is public, Lanzedar. Mindarch does his work in a limited capacity because Lady Levandis put a Military Curfew and many thoughts into this madness. We didn't make many things public because we wanted to. Rataratan and a bunch of his toys might know our target is below. It will spread. For them, what is public means something else than to the general population. They might not even move because gods know what makes sense anymore. This Province is a bit tame for this Encoutner. Having a voice or mission of our Lady, you see, is nice.”

Lanzedar scratched his tie and adjusted it again. “You seem to have the gist of it, yet our Lady desires many things. Gems are that. Power is that. The clear thought of this place is that. She doesn't want to lose one inch of her reputation or power over anything else, even something minor. That is that, and this place is precious.”

“We don't deny her that at all,” Lint argued. “Well, at least he doesn't, or... in some way, he does, but...” Lint lost his thoughts as he surely knew that Razmund was a menace to this place, similar to Murai.

Two storms clashed and turned the tides before other massive storms arrived in the appearance of an enriched Hunt and Ceila, followed by Vermillion's plot and who knew what else. Lint was feeling weaker whenever he considered the bigger picture.

A picture he didn't want Razmund to break.

Lanzedar didn't know everything. Still, he could try to see between the truth and many ideas and come to some realization even in his old age.

“What is it that you desire?” he asked.

“Well, here is an idea.” Lint turned his single hand towards Razmund. “His appearance will move the inevitable. Do the work fast, and do it quickly since the mess below follows us too. Lanzedar might not make our way below public, or...” Lint glanced at the old, smirking devil. He planned to make some money off of this information.

Lint lost his words again.

“It is the inevitability of this Hunt and business, Lint,” Razmund said.

“I know, which is why,” Lint turned to the devil and tapped his chest. “Unless you want massive losses or loss of many parts of the mines, it is better to conduct it well and give it some further reflections as well. It will be inevitable that some forces will move underground, and consider our Lady. We are not alone either. Probably, more is coming anyway, or going hunting with hounds, or their pets.”

Lint smirked in a lofty manner, cluttering and angling his bones and giving everyone some time to think.

Lanzedar wasn't too impressed. “I know a good way to let things proceed. I have a lot of little birds, you see. I know things. We have many possible entrances and ideas about the mines. The arrays are workable, but we have maintenance and full control over half of them. I can see who and from where someone goes, and that excuses less than one-tenth of the total arrays. What else do you need to hear for my revenge?”