The demon kept its promises; all Simon got that day was delicious, warm food delivered to the door. The morsel itself was nothing particular, a chicken-based soup with bread, with a slice of pie on the side.

  But it was cooked to perfection, to the point that he felt nostalgic for home. Tears threatened to release as food was guzzled down his throat.

  When was the last time Simon had a real meal? He could not remember.

  All he sustained himself on were magical rations and the occasional fast food. Rations were very good for him as the spell was designed to keep the body fit. But Simon would have killed himself if that bland chalk was the only food he ate.

  So, he treated himself to fast food on occasion, which tasted great but hollow.

  Simon realized why that night. He missed home, along with everything he had to leave behind during his exile.

  That night, sleep came peacefully and was very deep, better than he had in a long time. Simon dreamed of the past, when his life was good and his future bright. His mind expected the other shoe to drop at some point, but that never happened. It remained a very pleasant dream throughout.

  The experience had been so good that when the demon came over the next day, warm meal in hand, Simon accepted it without much resistance.

  The infernal only made a passing compliment of his magic circle, but the rest was only small talk. Another thing Simon realized was a dearth of.

  He never thought demons could be so chatty, and so full of life. A flash of a memory of smiles and kisses came to him during that conversation.

  A reminder of why he was doing what he was doing. To get what was taken from him back. If–When Simon succeeded, there would be no choice but to accept him. A mage of the fifth order would always be desirable far more than past pitfalls.

  To that end, he needed to exchange his earnings for reagents, after leaving the bare minimum to ensure continued survival.

  ‘We are close.’

  ‘They will pay.’

  ‘Be careful.’

  Simon palmed his chest, and a flash of a prismatic circle hovered over the glowing blue palm. In about three seconds, the spell frame shattered, turning into motes of light before dispersing into his skin.

  There was a small glow coating his entire body, which lasted for a moment before everything turned back to normal.

  The barrier was in place, and as long as he maintained it, it was perpetually active—an efficient way to keep both the body safe and train his magical reserves.

  The next step was to shed his leather garb and put on something more presentable for the masses. Also, he needed a shower.

  The first thing Simon did was look into the mirror above his sink. A wheatish, weary, rugged face, overgrown with a shaggy beard and messy hair, stared back.

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  He did something that had been tossed to the wayside for months. Simon groomed himself; the beard was gone, the hair styled in whatever Simon thought looked presentable enough.

  The Cleaning spell was good at maintaining hygiene, but it did nothing about the body’s natural odor, nor did it concern itself with presentation.

  The shower did nothing, but the soap and shampoo made him smell good. He had no perfumes to speak of, so this would have to do.

  Next were clothes, which had only function, not form. But he tried anyway, grabbing a black shirt, a black jacket, and grey pants. Nothing fashionable, but black is, was, and always will be an aesthetic color. And Simon was still fit, which would also help.

  Feeling better than he had in a while, Simon made his way out only to come face to face with the demon, who also looked to be about to knock on the door.

  “Ah! Hi! Hi. Whoa, you cleaned up.”

  The demon looked him up and down, clearly appraising with a very approving smile.

  Simon would have questioned the succubi’s random appearance, but the positive attention did good for his soul, though he would never admit.

  “Did you take my advice and get a date?”

  The infernal smirked.

  “What? No. As I said, I am way too busy to be distracted with stuff like that. You saw the Spell Diagram.”

  The demon shrugged.

  “And I remember saying that you needed a life outside of magic, lest The Consuming absorb you.”

  Simon scoffed.

  “If there is anything in my life I have complete control over, it is my magic.”

  ‘We are strong.’

  ‘Magic is what drives us.’

  ‘No, we do not’

  The succubus gave him a playful shrug.

  “Just be careful. You humans rarely want to make friends with me, I would not want to lose a burgeoning friendship so soon after getting.”

  Simon raised an eyebrow.

  “You think we are friends?”

  The infernal answered with a serious nod.

  “We are already halfway there.”

  Simon laughed, a good-natured laugh.

  “Sure, friendship between a demon and a human. Whenever has that ended poorly?”

  There was sass in the next answer.

  “At least one of us will look good when we both fall to hell.”

  He could not stop the grin from coming to his face.

  “Hey, I thought you said I looked good.”

  Hands on hips, the retort was sharp and swift.

  “I said that you cleaned up, not that you looked good. There is a difference!”

  Another laugh came out, this time from the very bottom of his soul.

  The succubus looked at him in victory before saying.

  “Anyway, came over to ask if you wanted to go out, but it looks like you are busy, so I will make myself scarce.”

  Before Simon could get himself back together, the demon left swiftly, disappearing from his vision.

  He was still sure that the demon was up to no good. But it made it very difficult to find any weariness toward them, given how personable they were. Simon just had to remember when the succubus said anything even slightly off. As long as he did not agree to anything suspicious, he should be fine. Much of society was built on the back of the beings after all, so humans knew how to handle them. He just had to be one of them.

  Now, he was off to get more reagents for his Ascension.