A few days ago...
I'd sent Angelina to the inn to "rest and recover her mental state"... though really, it was just to soften her psyche for manipulation. This morning, I ordered one of the monsters my sister brought me to retrieve her from the inn and bring her to the dungeon's residential quarters.
The elongated shadows of night danced across the dungeon walls as Nevir drummed his fingers against a weathered map. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the outer corridor before Gurk, his hulking minion, appeared in the doorway.
"Boss, I moved that witch to Cell Three. She's still cursing up a storm."
Nevil's lips curled into a wicked grin. "Let her curse. She'll change her tune by morning." He gestured to a smaller goblin lurking nearby. "Tell the three guard goblins to stage brutal fistfights with those captured female adventurers outside her door every hour. Make sure she hears every punch, every scream—but never sees the action."
Gurk's bushy eyebrows shot up. "More of your mind games?"
"Exactly. I want the fear of the unknown to eat at her sanity all night." Nevir rose and strode toward a shelf lined with peculiar bottles. "Now, let's move to the fun part."
×××
[Next Morning - Angelina's Cell]
Angelina slumped against the wall, her eyes red and puffy from sleeplessness. The clank of the door's bolt made her flinch violently.
Nevil entered, impeccably groomed and carrying a breakfast tray. "Morning, sunshine! Sleep well?"
"Go to hell, you damned demon!"
"Tsk tsk. Is that any way to speak to your savior?" He set the tray down. "Fresh bread, cheese, and... warm milk. Exactly what a growing girl needs."
Angelina glared at the offering with disgust. "Milk? You think I'm a child?"
Nevil's playful demeanor vanished. "No. I think you're a professional witch who nearly cried four times last night listening to what you thought were goblins beating women senseless in the hallway."
Her face flushed crimson. "I-I never—"
"Save it. I know everything." Nevil sprawled casually on the floor. "Now, let's make a deal. Complete one simple mission today, and you'll get both your freedom and a generous reward."
Angelina's eyes narrowed. "How do I know this isn't a trick?"
Nevil pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm an honest devil! Well... if you don't examine that statement too closely."
×××
[Fifteen Minutes Later]
Nevil handed Angelina a small ornate box. "Give this to Malerius. Two rules: First, he can't know I sent you. Second—" He paused dramatically.
"Second what?"
"If you open the box, we both die. So resist the curiosity."
Angelina handled the box like live explosives. "Why should I believe this isn't a trap?"
Leaning uncomfortably close, Nevil almost whispered, "Because if I wanted you dead, the goblins would've done it last night." His fingers suddenly darted out, snapping her mother's locket from her neck.
"I'll keep this as collateral. Succeed, and you get it back."
Angelina's scream echoed off the stones: "No! That's all I have left of her!"
"Good. Now you're properly motivated." Nevil pocketed the locket. "Goblins will escort you to the city outskirts. The rest is on you."
×××
[That Afternoon - Malerius' Tower]
From a second-story window across the square, Nevil watched Angelina enter the sorcerer's tower. Gurk shifted nervously beside him.
"Boss... you sure about this? If that ancient wizard figures out—"
"Relax. He fears me as much as I fear him." Nevil's grin turned feral. "That explosive we planted in the box—timer set?"
"One hour, boss. Right when the Mage Council convenes."
"Perfect." Nevil's eyes glittered. "When that box detonates during their meeting, Malerius won't just lose credibility—the others will suspect him of treachery."
Gurk scratched his head. "But the girl... she'll die too."
Nevil shrugged. "If she's smart, she'll flee first. If not... well, at least I keep the locket."
Gurk gave him a look of horrified admiration. "You're a proper devil, boss."
"I know." Nevil turned from the window. "Now come—we need at least three coffees before the explosion."
×××
[Later - Coffee Aftermath]
Nevil savored his dark brew while Gurk nursed his own steaming cup.
"But boss... how does this actually benefit us?"
Setting his porcelain cup down with deliberate care, Nevil explained: "The moment Angelina accepted my offer, the dungeon recognized her as a member—because I'm its manager. When her bomb wipes out an enclave of elite mages..." He took another satisfied sip.
"...the dungeon will reward us handsomely for accomplishing such a difficult task. Not that I'd expect you to grasp such nuances."
Gurk's face remained blank.
"Anyway," Nevil stood, straightening his coat, "we should return. If she survives, she'll likely come to the dungeon... probably."
Without another word, he strode toward the exit, Gurk following obediently in his wake—the unspoken question hanging between them: just how many moves ahead was his devilish boss really playing?