The Scumbags Guide to Enslaving Demon's

The collector never crossed the gate. She arrived at noon.

A black chain fell from the sky and stopped three feet over cracked street outside Grand Meridian. It did not swing. It did not graze the ground. It simply hung there, as still as every Freehold root beneath the pavement tensed beneath it in warning.

Austin Veyron watched from behind the root barrier with Elena, Seven, Rin, Kaela, Sarielle, and Maelis.

The chain snapped open.

Woman stepped through the empty space behind it.

Her coat was cut black and trimmed with silver hooks at the cuffs. Her skin was the color of ash. Her horns were curved backwards like polished obsidian and her eyes seemed to lack pupils entirely. A ledger hung from her other hand on its own chain, pages fluttering silently.

”Freehold.” She tasted the word like cheap wine in her mouth. ”My name is Scribe Halven. I am collector appointed on behalf of Lady Vharra of the Ninth Dominion.”

Rin’’s tails spiked upward. ”You look too small to be a collector.”

Halven glared at her. ”And you look too wild to be a lieutenant. Appearances rarely mean what they should.”

Austin Veyron stepped forward. ”You have one minute before I decide you’’re here to bully us.”

The scribe flipped open her ledger.

”You already have.” She shrugged. ”That is why your kind is so costly.”

Every page contained a name. Some were demons. Some were humans. Some were nothing but strings of contract symbols. Austin Veyron recognized Malrec’’s crest near the bottom of one and flinched when he saw it crossed out in green ash.

Halven raised three fingers.

”Lady Vharra would like sovereign restitution. The first of which is the extracted chain- core extracted from registered holder Malrec. The second is Sarielle of the Beast-Queen line, who was claimed into the Ninth Dominion through legitimate means. And lastly, Austin Veyron’’s Devour trait which has since been interfering with registered sovereign contracts.”

There was a pause across the street.

Sarielle didn’’t recoil away from anyone. She walked up to Austin Veyron’’s shoulder to glare openly at Halven.

”I wasn’’t legitimately claimed,” she stated calmly. ”I was kidnapped.”

Halven flipped her ledger to another page. ”Acquisition does not change sovereign registration.”

Kaela tightened her spearhand.

Austin Veyron raised a hand to calm her without ordering. ”What happens if we refuse?”

Halven smiled for the first time.

Lady Vharra will send a collector rather than a scribe.

Difference? Elena prompted.

”A scribe informs you of your debt. A collector reaps it from you.”

The chain above them chimed once.

Austin felt it through his teeth. Whatever Vharra sent would wipe entire blocks clean—and what killed you could always be devoured. Temptation wound too cleanly through his veins.

He shoved it down.

”The core stays.” He glared at Halven. ”Sarielle can stand wherever she pleases. And I won’’t negotiate my trait.”

Halven snapped her ledger closed.

Then she began to count.

A number formed above the street behind them.

[Sovereign restitution timer: 72:00:00]

The scribe took a step backwards into the slack chain.

Before she vanished into it, Sarielle called over her shoulder, ”Tell Vharra I stand with the Freehold.”

Halven hesitated.

Pages of her ledger fluttered quickly.

”That is irrelevant.” She bowed curtly. ”Legally.”

Sarielle shrugged back at her.

Halven stepped forwards into the chain and vanished.

The metal stayed rigid for another heartbeat before arching straight up into the clouds.

No one moved until it was gone.

”You.” Seven pointed at Austin Veyron. ”Defense calculations need adjusting. Probability of hostile sovereign agent arriving is high within three days.”

Elena swore quietly to herself and turned to walk back towards the hotel. ”That doesn’’t give us much time.”

”It’’s all we got.” Austin Veyron replied.

Members of their meeting crowded around a district map laid out in the lobby. More former prisoners filtered through the door behind them; people sorting through food supplies, weapon manifests, and scouting reports from the streets. The Freehold had more people claiming it now, but growth was never smooth. Some people just wanted safety and nothing more. Some wanted vengeance. Others wanted Austin Veyron to weaponize Malrec’’s core and make the whole district bow before Vharra came knocking.

He understood why they wanted that.

Malrec sat still by the old reception desk, wrists still bound by strips of plain steel cable. ”If you agree to her terms,” he began, ”you will need the core. They’’re not sending soldiers. They’’ll send Vharra’’s word with teeth.”

Austin Veyron looked back down at the locked case.

The chain- core hummed with dull green light within.

”What if I use it?” Austin Veyron asked. ”What happens then?”

Malrec snorted a bored laugh. ”You stop trying to pretend you can outrun who you are.”

Rin poked her head over top of the map beside them. ”Or maybe he uses it once, wins the fight and then never has to use it again.”

”That is how tyranny starts.” Malrec corrected her sharply.

Sarielle stepped up next to the warded case. Green light pulsed beneath the glass and the tracker scar on her cheek deepened but she didn’’t hesitate away.

”I will not trade my freedom for security,” she stated evenly. ”Nor will I allow myself to become another debt written into someone else’’s ledger. If you decide to use that core, Austin Veyron then do it because you are willing to pay whatever cost it demands – not because you think it makes me proud.”

Austin met her gaze.

He hadn’’t told her to say that. But he was glad she did.

Not because it gave him answers. Because it took away the easy justification of sacrificing yourself on behalf of someone else’’s desires.

”I hear you.” He nodded.

She nodded back.

A bell sounded from the street to their east.

Warnings spread through Freehold roots beneath the lobby floor.

People crowded at the gate, mostly comprised of Malrec’’s former soldiers who had knives slung but tucked safely at their sides. Families from the surrounding blocks were behind them as well as escaped demons who wore no collars and had nowhere else to go.

Elena met Austin Veyron’’s eyes. ”Refugees.”

”And mouths to feed.” Another voice spoke up from behind him.

Austin heard it too. Everyone else did.

The lord would have answered that question easy in his previous life: Take what you need and dump the weak. Debtor’’s ledgers were anything but private.

Austin stepped out from behind the root circle and approached the gate himself.

”What are you asking for?” He asked the crowd of soldiers.

Their commander shrugged his helmet back. A long scar slashed across his face from temple to jaw.

”A chance that doesn’’t treat us like livestock.” He paused. ”We build. We can defend. If you give the order we can leave.”

Austin glanced at the families behind them.

”Nobody owns anyone here.” He stated. ”If you cross that line you earn a share of both the work and the risk. That’’s the ask.”

The soldier eyed him cautiously.

”Why?”

Austin glanced up at the dark bruise that black chain left on the sky.

”Because we have others coming to count us.” He locked his gaze back onto the group. ”I want to give them something worth adding.”

The Freehold gate opened.

People chose to step through it.

Some dumped old Malrec regiment pins in the mud before stepping over the roots. Others had children in tow or bedrolls strapped across their backs. Still more wandered up empty handed, refugees still caught between hope and fear. Austin Veyron couldn’’t promise any of them safety if Vharra sent someone to account for them. He could vow that no one under Freehold rooftops would ever be shackled into a ledger without first choosing their own line themselves.

Elena stared at the open gate and shook her head. ”Guess we’’re gonna need more rooms.”

Rin smirked down at him from one of the roof catwalks.

”Well we take more buildings.” She waved at the abandoned blocks surrounding them all. ”Sounds simple enough right?”

Austin looked out at the crowd they’’d assembled, at the black bruise bleeding out across the sky above them, at Malrec’’s chain- core still humming quietly beneath his feet.

”We don’’t take.” He held up a hand to gesture between everyone. ”We ask.”

It would make building defenses more difficult. Negotiating arguments louder. It would allow scared people to run should the collector come knocking. Austin Veyron accepted all of that. Because a Freehold that lived by chaining others to its will was nothing more than prisoners with fancier justifications.

The refugees stepped inside.