The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (top novels to read .TXT) 📕

Demon vendors stood by the stalls, eager to catch a glimpse of something new and original.

They didn't take their eyes off Hans. They were trying to gauge what kind of man he was.

Hans knew his aura of a scholar wouldn't last forever, and once they figured out what kind of commodity he was, he was done.

Pruflas snorted nervously as he had a special commission from Valak to investigate the nature of his protégé's soul. No demon lord was such a fool to tie himself to idle talk, no matter how well reasoned.

There were all sorts of things for sale besides souls, too strange for even the most devolved imagination.

Some of the more extravagant finds included things like an Eel's Ermanian tongue, a Hillioran snail, and other oddities.

Hans had shoved his hands in his pockets and was trying to figure out what was going on and where exactly everyone was going. He was trying to see beyond things, but was apparently too myopic. Or barefoot in life.

Pruflas stepped away for a moment to finish one of his tenders. As a superior demon, he was bound to defend his reputation. A lot had changed in that time.

The longer everything dragged on, the scarier it became.

- "Was hell the final destination?," he asked his mentor a little annoyingly.

- "Well no, there are plenty of other dimensions after that!," he muttered. "It's just one of all the myriad many levels of development."

- "I mean, one can fall infinitely, right?," the technical genius continued with his questions.

- "Well, practically, yes!," pronounced Pruflas, in a tone that indicated he would rather have the subject of the conversation over.

Then they dragged on through the vast marketplace. There was still too much work to be done. And time was pressing upon them.

The oddities didn’t end there, of course. Hans saw many more infernal lords trying to get some sort of „promotion,“ and he just kept track and took notes.

- "Now you must understand how much they are striving to sit on the hell throne, right?," drawled Pruflas in his scary voice.

Because Hans was not considered a threat, he was spoken to so frankly. He truly realized that Hell was full of incompetents, fools, greedy types, lechers, personalities with an obsession for power and greatness, psychopaths, technocratic geeks, corrupt pigs, filthy dupes, murderers, traitors, and whatnot.

Although it seemed banal - it wasn't.

- "Live this life while you can. For once you come out of the shadows in an attempt to taste Heaven, you will be scalded! And you may perish!," pronounced Pruflas in passing.

- "And do you know which is the worst?," continued his mentor implacably. "The worst and really hopeless situation is to have nowhere to go. There are some who won't even take them here," he laughed wryly. "And the criteria are not high, you know, even on the contrary."

Hans walked after him, out of his mind.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE: DARKNESS

The two men kept walking, their footsteps echoing. It was frightening even to listen to. In the midst of the nothingness, it was hard to create anything meaningful. Pruflas suddenly said to him:

From now on you go on alone. You can look around some more, but tomorrow Valak will be waiting for you to do the real work.

By the time he turned around, the other man was gone. Hans was left alone and saw and heard absolutely nothing. Things were business as usual. But suddenly, he realized.

In the infernal market, everyone was buying what they didn't have - that was the point. It was damn stupid, but true.

The world didn't just revolve around superstitions, it revolved around real facts and actions.

Hans machinically continued his move and finally, just decided to sit down. It was super dumb - there was no one around. He didn't even have anyone to say a word to, and no one to share it with - he was tangled up like a duck in mud.

But the road ahead continued - it was damn dull. Hans decided to pick himself up and keep going - to go crazy for a little while at least, until the demons had left him alone.

He could see fiery chasms and all sorts of wild things around. He saw bodies covered in leprosy. He'd seen them before, but he wasn't moved at all. It was more than Annoying to him because he knew what would happen. Inwardly he trusted his instinct for self-preservation - he had nothing else at the moment. So many others - they didn't have that either. The illusion itself was that he was progressing - step by step, that he was getting to the other level. And in fact he didn't move an iota - then he understood the infernal design.

Hell in general was Heaven only with a different perspective.

He looked around and saw all the filth of it all. He was lonely and without support from anyone. Somewhere deep in his soul he seized up and felt the need to take a leap and get out of this even for a little while.

He continued on his way. He wasn't meeting any people anymore. It was just super stupid. Even Hans was sick of it - nothing was happening.

There was no one who could give him good and proper advice, make him believe that even here in Hell, life was worth living.

Then suddenly the picture before him began to change. He saw the good times, too - from school, from the Academy, from working for the three or four high-tech companies that had given him the opportunity to rise and get what he wanted out of life. He remembered that he had almost a dozen friends with whom he spent time cheerfully.

So much had happened, and Hans had gone to Hell so young. It was downright pathetic! And now he wanted to get out of there too! But he knew he wasn't solving the problem altogether, only postponing it.

Darkness had taken hold of his soul - he had become a different man. Gone was the former spark that had given him the strength to go forward. He had seen everything in his circle and he was fed up. He had looked around at the others - all the same.

Pruflos was watching him from a distance and wanted him to give himself away at least a little in order to compromise him to his superior. Naturally, Hans wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just continuing on his way quietly and peacefully - highly uncharacteristic of a Hell dweller.

Hell is the place of unfulfilled desires and a paradise for complete losers, and Hans didn't want to live that life anymore. These jerks disgusted him.

There was a category of so-called repeaters[48]who created their own reality through an infinite number of repetitions of the same situation, thinking this behavior of theirs was some kind of development.

Auslander wanted no part of them. He didn't want to live in that nightmare. His deepest wish was to be here and now, at least for a little while - in his own world. No matter how much he turned, he kept falling into the same paradox. Neither his knowledge of mathematics nor that of quantum physics helped - it was simply overwhelming.

"There are countless dimensions!," he remembered Pruflas' words.

The thought of it seemed all too appealing and interesting. But was it really? And if, after all, his soul was lost somewhere along the way! At least in Hell he was used to rules. Even if it sounded squishy, he was comfortable with the well-established 'relationships' he had with the rest of his 'roommates'.

Gloom was a perfectly natural thing in a place like this, but Hans had always surfaced, and his sentence here would last an eternity.

So many tears had been shed in this realm of hopelessness, and Hans hadn't even shed one.

He came imperceptibly to a forest full of dead trees[49]- they were completely withered - in Hell that was how they punished suicides.

Hans couldn't think of the names of many of them, but he saw that their fate was terrible. And in that instant he saw Zontul's face. It was grinning at him, nasty and insolent. Zontul had ended up here, too.

Hans approached and questioned him:

- Who are you?

- I am the assassin of Kazuk Mon, the leader of the Tarashdukian sect. A traitor to his benefactor.

Hans shook his head in surprise.

- "They have hanged you well!," he said thoughtfully. "Very well!"

- "Tell me exactly how he fucked the old man!," asked Hans, spitefully. "As soon as he got to Hell, he swore he didn't know what had happened to him. Just don't be surprised!"

Emborian Zontul started to reply, but his mouth turned to wood and his face gradually disappeared and sank into the thick bark of the wood. The strong wind whipped him again mercilessly.

Hans remained for some time gazing at this shocking sight and passed away.

Suddenly he felt someone breathing down his neck - it was Pruflas. Hans turned around.

- "I showed you what happens to traitors," he dragged his voice out. "Remember Emborian could have changed his fate to the last, but he didn't. What's more, he aggravated his own situation."

The two continued on their way and saw the Archistratus not far away - torn apart by rabid dogs. Suffering was written on his face, and the colour of his eyes was pitch black - he was in mortal pain and squealing like an under slaughtered pig. His huge torso shook in an ugly rhythm that was downright grotesque. But who knows why - he didn't seem to feel remorse - on the contrary - he seemed to wonder at his prominent place in hell.

Hans was disgusted by his fall.

They continued their tour of the underworld.

Somewhere in the middle of his tour, Pruflas stopped and wished he had something to tell him. Hans nodded.

- Pandemonium[50] is a kind of prison that few people properly appreciate, but you obviously have the right judgment that it's just the other face of good.

Hans stared at him uncomprehendingly.

- Even after all you've done, you still don't have the fate of the Archist, or indeed Emborian himself. You want to evolve.

The demon disappeared again and never appeared again. Hans thought he had seen enough of this infernal realm. Moreover, he interpreted this as a sure sign that somewhere out there, Valak was already looking forward to it-he had no right to make it wait any longer. She had to go back and face him now.