Is anybody home?

“Hello? Is anyone home?” Seth stepped into Argun's house, his voice echoing slightly in the still air.

No response.

He moved cautiously through the rooms until a soft noise led him toward the back. There, pacing behind a locked cage, was Asbeel.

“Argun and the Queen—” Asbeel’s voice was sharp with frustration, “they’ve gone. To the demon domain. They're looking for your daughter.”

Seth blinked. “Then why are you locked up? Why aren’t you helping them?”

Asbeel launched into a long-winded tale about misunderstandings, warnings, and Argun being overly cautious.

Seth didn’t wait for the conclusion. “Forget it.” He unlatched the cage with a grunt. “You’re coming with me.”

He tossed together supplies—some gear, rations, a waterskin—and grabbed a familiar backpack. “Argun won’t mind.”

As Seth headed toward the portal, it shimmered—and Idris popped out.

“There you are,” Seth muttered. “Feeling better, I see.”

“Don’t try to stop me.”

Idris raised both hands. “Relax. I’m not here to stop you—I’m here to help.”

They clasped hands, mutual respect rekindled.

“That’s my brother,” Seth said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

“Oh! And we’ve got the fire breather too,” Idris grinned at Asbeel. “This is gonna be good.”

Together, the trio stepped into the portal.

They landed on jagged mountaintops, snow crunching beneath their boots. The bitter wind clawed at their cloaks. Night had fallen hard, and the cries of the damned echoed from the far valleys.

“I’ll keep us warm,” Asbeel rumbled. Heat radiated from him like a living hearth. Not enough to melt the snow completely—but enough to keep their blood from freezing.

Then Asbeel’s nose twitched.

“I smell something… familiar.”

Seth nodded. “Follow it. We’ll cover you.”

The great hound barreled down the mountainside like an avalanche. Seth and Idris took flight, their wings slicing the icy wind as they followed.

At the base of the mountain, the chaos awaited.

Charlene stood alone, her back to them, surrounded by a hoard of snarling Imps.

Her marrow blade danced like silver lightning—cutting, slicing, tearing. Her left hand pulsed with raw fire. She shattered bone with every punch; those who got too close burst into flame and disintegrated. The snow was scorched black in every direction.

Then, with a crash, a massive demon ram burst from the trees and charged Charlene from behind.

Before she could turn, Asbeel slammed into its path like a wrecking ball.

The two beasts circled each other, horns lowered, muscles coiled.

“You think you can take me, demon dog?” the ram growled.

Asbeel didn’t blink. “Try me. I’ll floss my fangs with your horns.”

Steam hissed from his nostrils.

The demon tilted its head. “Before I kill you, tell me your name.”

“Asbeel,” the hound said coolly. “And yours?”

“I am Lord Baphomet. Remember it well, hound—it’ll be the last thing on your tongue when I rip it out.”

Baphomet let out a screech and charged.

Asbeel sidestepped effortlessly. Baphomet flew headlong into a snowdrift with a dumb thud.

Not the brightest, Asbeel mused.

He checked Charlene—still standing, breathing hard, but clearly in control. Seth’s voice called out:

“Go ahead and handle your business! We’ve got Charlene!”

Asbeel turned back. His body glowed red-hot. Lava-like drool dripped from his lips.

By the time Baphomet pulled himself out of the snow, Asbeel was already on him. He opened his jaws—and let loose a blast of molten fire.

One drop was enough to sear flesh to the bone. But this was a wave—gallons poured down on Baphomet like a furnace. The demon shrieked as its body was reduced to sizzling chunks in the snow.

The fight was over.

Charlene turned toward the carnage, unfazed. Blood crusted her armor. A jeweled crown still rested on her brow. Emerald rings gleamed on her fingers.

Seth and Idris landed beside her, panting.

Charlene raised an eyebrow. “Oh, now you decide to join me?”

Idris gagged as the smell of burnt demon wafted past them. “Something smells delicious.”

Charlene’s voice was too calm. “I thought so too.”

“You need your soul back, immediately,” Idris groaned, half-laughing, half-choking.

Asbeel approached. “Charlene.”

She nodded. “Nice work.”

“You too,” he said, glancing at the carnage. “That was Lord... what was his name?”

“Baphomet,” she said. “Two down. Two to go.”

She turned and began walking.

“Wait,” Seth called, stepping in front of her. Her eyes glowed with power—bright, unnatural. Too much.

“How are you doing?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine, Dad.”

“You don’t look fine. After everything you just did, you still have that much energy left?”

“It’s been like this for a while now,” Charlene admitted. “It builds up... and there’s no release. Since I lost my soul, I stopped caring. That’s why I’m even telling you.”

Seth’s knees buckled. He tried to steady himself.

“You look weak,” Charlene noted. “I can help.”

“Wait—!”

Too late. She placed her hands on him.

He lit up like a starburst—white energy pouring from her into him.

When she let go, smoke curled off his skin.

She patted his arm. “Better now. Let’s go.”

Idris stared. “Dude. Are you okay?”

Seth blinked. “I—I feel amazing. Like I just drank lightning.”

“She didn’t even flinch,” Idris muttered.

Charlene kept walking. “Don’t make me leave you both behind.”

Asbeel padded up beside her, loyal and ready.

Seth and Idris exchanged a look.

“We’d better keep up,” Idris said. “No telling what she’ll do next.”

“Exactly,” Seth muttered. “And if we can kill more demons on the way…”

They followed her—through the valley of snow-capped mountains, into the storm, into the night.

Because the girl they were following wasn’t just Charlene anymore.

She was something far more dangerous.

Something the demon domain had never seen before.