The Dangers of Handing a Smartphone to a Demon Lord

Lord Bechamel woke up to an uncomfortable feeling. Perhaps, it was due to the haziness of battle the previous day, one that left his mana bone dry and shamefully crawling back to his quarters. He barely recalled throwing his body onto the luxurious bed of hell silk, indifferent to the blood and shrapnel that now made a mess of the pristine sheets. It was his favorite textile, woven from volcanic worms, resistant to spontaneous ignition by his incredible magic power.

He stroked the dirtied fabric with a sigh, but that was not what made him disturbed. Slowly, he recalled the previous day, the fog lifting as he sat upright to let the mana flow equilibrate through his veins.

“That’s right! I kicked the hero’s ass!”

Kicked his ass, was an overstatement. Their powers were neck and neck until the final moment, when the hero accidentally stumbled and let up on his sword beam that he nonchalantly named like it was a sentient being.

The earpiercing cry of “Moe Moe Waifu Ascension Phase Six Patina Anavatlaca Citlali the Swimsuit Edition” had caught him offguard, delaying his mental conjuring by a full half second as he tried to process the attack coming at him.

It was by some fortune that a second attack had faltered as the hero bit his tongue and sneezed mid-cry, allowing a momentary gap where Bechamel’s (far shorter named) Mystic Flame broke through and incinerated his opponent.

Still, the last exchange had left him spent far more than any other time he could recall. That included skinny dipping in pure miasma due to a dare by his fellow warmongers, leaving him ridden with mana diarrhea for the next few days.

Yet, that was not it either.

A sudden buzzing vibrated from his trousers. He reached between the crevices of his shattered armor to figure out what the hell it was. What he found was a tablet shaped device that had the face of Pope Albert on it. His first thought was to smash the thing, but then, he recalled that it was some precious artifact that the hero possessed. The words, ‘swipe to answer’, also beckoned him with curiosity.

“Hero? Hero! Thank heavens you answered! I thought the worst when none of my telepathic calls could reach your smartphone artifact!”

Bechamel paused for a moment, digesting the words, before a smile of realization crept onto his lips.

“Your hero is dead!” he proudly proclaimed. “He is but cinders upon my throne floor, his leftovers munched on by maggots. Your champion has perished, and soon, the rest of humanity along with it!”

“This cannot be! The prophecies… the prophecies proclaimed certain victory by the Smartphone Hero… what are we to do, now that his artifact is in the wrong hands?!”

Bechamel spun the trinket in his hands, scrutinizing it further. It was certainly a foreign object, likely brought into this world by the otherworldly hero. A sudden energy rose from the pit of his stomach as he tasted the pope’s despair. He bellowed out a hearty laugh.

“That is correct! His precious artifact is now in my possession! Your hero was foolish, and so is humankind for trusting in him! And now, I will harness the same powers to bring ruin to your domain!”

He continued with the insults until the pope’s picture disappeared from the screen, leaving him wondering if his taunts were heard. But it didn’t take long for him to notice that several odd symbols now appeared instead. Tapping a random one, his eyes were mesmerized by a window popping up, giving him a sample of what powers the Hero had in his possession.

v

Nearly a day had passed, and Bechamel’s eyes had barely torn away from the screen before him. He was sitting on his throne, mouth agape, as the doors opened. A giant lizardman, muscles rippling around fine armor, marched to the audience floor below where the throne rested. He had a look of utter devotion as he knelt to show his loyalty.

“My lord! You have recovered from your victory over the human champion! Please give the word and we shall invade while the humans are in chaos!”

Bechamel, although smaller in stature, was no less intimidating. He lifted a hand, shushing his right-hand man, who gave him his full attention. The Demon Lord’s eyes were still fixated on the smartphone.

“This is unbelievable, General Kraus. To think, all I have to do is tap on this symbol, and it brings up a map of our domain, along with the forces stationed here!”

Bechamel sprung to his feet and jumped down to show Kraus the screen. A detailed map of the castle was littered with red dots, showing the live movement of his armies. He zoomed in on the throne room where there were two dots with detailed icons, signifying important marks. As he walked from one side of the room to the other, the dot moved with him.

“Incredible! So that was how a lone Hero managed to surprise me during my private time. I was busy ruminating on decorating the recently invaded human city with the entrails of the defeated.”

“To interrupt my lord’s artistry! How boorish! As expected of human character!”

“Not only does it display our locations, but here! That of the human armies as well!”

Bechamel swiped over to the edge of the demon and human kingdoms, now a mixture of red and blue dots colliding and disappearing. A battle was raging, and even the pleasure of death could be observed from the comfort of his throne.

“No more ambushes! No more surprises! Information at my very fingertips! A raven’s eye view of the battlefield will have us flank them at every turn! We will strip the earth clean of every swine! None shall be safe from our invasions! And oh, look. It even shows weather patterns, so our troops can march on a sunny day.”

Kraus’s eyes lit up with promise, similar to Bechamel. For too long, the humans had various tricks up their sleeves. Their summoned hero was just the latest of the headaches. Now, they could use his powers against them.

“My lord, with this, our victory is certain! What other powers does this artifact possess?”

“I have yet to study it in detail. It appears to hold many functions, including mechanisms for timekeeping and calculation. I have asked it to record my proclamations of doom for the humans, and it has played it back to me, much to my satisfaction. In addition, a library of knowledge, from current news to historical facts, are simple to access. This voice of the Gods, Alexa, appears not to discriminate against us demonkind.”

Kraus reached over awkwardly with a thick finger that nearly took up the whole screen. While trying to tap a symbol, he instead dragged his finger along the surface, revealing a brand-new page of them.

“There are even more?! What blasphemy is this?! For a single object to hold so many functions! I must further investigate!”

Bechamel spun around with gusto, more excited than when he had made an example of humanity’s strongest kingdom and personally toyed with its royal family. Such entertainment was as fleeting as humans were fragile, but what he held in his hands felt like endless promise.

He stared at the words under the icons, speaking them softly like they were magical chants.

“Bonkai Cosmic Trail? Henshin Simpact? Such mysterious names. I must educate myself.”

v

A week passed since General Kraus had last seen the Demon Lord. He had returned from his latest rout of the human forces, securing even more of their lands. With an air of pride, he waltzed into the throne room to announce his victories.

“My Lord, I have come bearing the region of Robineau, a gift that further cements your supremacy!”

His own words echoed within the empty throne room. A moment later, he repeated his declaration, with no response still.

“My Lord, where have you gone? I know I sent a messenger to announce my arrival…”

A door from the side creaked open, and Demon Lord Bechamel lumbered in, still in his bathrobe. His tired eyes remained fixated on the smartphone, making idle swipes at it occasionally. A goofy grin was plastered on his face, a telling sign of his recent activities.

Kraus tried to hide a face of disgust. “My Lord, it may be presumptuous of me to ask, but maybe it would be best to scale back investigation of that artifact? My Lord appears stricken with a curse by the divine beings.”

“Bollicks! We must reap the benefits of our enemies! Claim their weapons as our own and feast upon the flesh of the dominated!”

Kraus let out a sigh before slamming a foot down on the floor, causing the entire castle to shake. Bechamel tripped over his bathrobe, and the smartphone flew out of his hands. It slid across the floor over to Kraus, who looked down to see an animated girl winking cutely at him. What the demon lord had been entranced by was blatantly obvious.

“My Lord, we can capture any number of these smooth-skin females to serve your interests.”

Bechamel scurried over and snatched the phone from the floor, shielding it with a look of guilt.

“Insolence! Human girls are no better than fodder, made to serve their one true master! They lack the capacity to satisfy my demands for more than a fleeting moment. Take the princess of Maldonia, who the humans have harkened to possess the beauty of the ancient goddesses. It took but a single slap, and she became ghastly as a goblin!”

“Being a lizardman, I don’t pretend to understand what you see in soft bodies. But I imagine that a blow struck in anger would decimate anything less than a succubus queen. Perhaps, how easily a flower burns is why you seek them out.”

Bechamel shoved the phone before Kraus, slapping the screen. A blow whipped across the digital girl, sending her reeling back. Moments later, it reset, as if nothing had happened.

“You see! I can do anything, and she lives still! Not to mention any number of them inhabit this tiny device. All I have to do is, apparently ‘roll’ for them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must ruminate further on the proper method to torture, I mean, make an example of the human leaders.”

Kraus rolled his eyes instead. “As long as you are satisfied, My Lord. I will continue our conquest of their lands. Your mana vitality serves as our protection against their flimsy sorcery and crude iron.”

Bechamel gave no answer in response, brushing him away with a hand. Kraus had a bad feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

v

Another week passed. The door to the throne room burst open this time. A panicked General Kraus charged in, a look of dread on his face.

“My Lord, where are you!?”

It was a voice lacking reverence, displaced with desperation.

“My Lord, we are losing the battles! Where is our mana support?!”

A low chuckle hung across the room. Kraus found Bechamel sitting against a pillar with a goofy grin on his face. The demon lord’s eyes had become bloodshot, like he hadn’t rested in days. A maddening aura blanketed him as he idly swiped at the screen.

“My Lord! You must separate yourself from that divine artifact! Can you not see that it has cursed you with its holy powers?!”

“Nonsense! I have just discovered a blue-skinned beauty to match my grandeur. Such a demonic appearance can hardly be appreciated by those of divine powers! They say that humankind embodies the form of gods, but what is beauty without power? Just look at these horns! The contours of thigh muscles that look ready to crush an ogre’s head like pumpkins! She exudes raw ability and dominance and I must have her-”

Kraus gripped him by the shoulders, a look of confusion growing on his face to counter the madness of his master.

“But how does that explain your extinguished mana source? We feared that you had suddenly perished!”

“Silence, I have discovered that I must expend mana to harness this so-called ‘cryptocurrency’. Such coinage fuels the system of unlocking these hidden beauties. As a demon lord, I have plenty to spare for this demoness. She has eluded me for days. I must continue to roll-”

“Our troops are in disarray! We have lost your demonic protection, and you are forsaking us for imaginary flat bitches! We have lost millions!”

Kraus snapped at the demon lord, for obvious reasons. The protection of the demon lord was everything to them. Without it, his troops moved like starved rats. The bluntest blades and shoddiest magics could tear through their flesh like low-level grunts.

A loud explosion suddenly rocked the castle. It knocked both of them on their asses. Bechemel clutched his phone as if shielding his most precious treasure. Klaus glared at him in disgust, reaching over to snatch it away.

“They are firing upon my Lord’s home, and you still insist on holding such a cursed item!”

“The humans! Now I know why they struggle like insects over trash! I shall not let them have it back!”

Bechamel rose and looked for an escape. His eyes no longer worried about his long-time companion beside him. Seeing that hurt Kraus to no end, making him draw his blade in anger. It was his duty as his subordinate to rid the artifact that had afflicted his master. With one swift advance he struck the phone from Bechamel’s grip, weakened already from mana drain.

It clattered a distance away before Klaus roared mightily, bringing his blade down onto the tiny object. The phone split easily, shattering the image of the demoness that had so enraptured Demon Lord Bechamel, who could only look on with despair.

“No. NOOOOOOO! MY SAVE PROGRESS!!!” A seismic aura exploded from Bechamel as he screamed.

Despair was the driving force of Bechamel’s power, whether it came from others or from himself. With it, he slaughtered kingdoms which fueled him even more. And now, a brand-new despair had re-ignited him.

However, it was directed toward the very companion who had sought to free him from being charmed by the mysterious artifact.

A surge of dark energy burst from the demon lord’s castle, where it was said to be seen by the entire world. It was a last hurrah that blew away the entire demon army, leaving the human armies to invade near-effortlessly. All they found was the husk of a broken demon at the epicenter, silently mumbling his losses. One human simply shook his head and stabbed Bechamel, ending his misery.

From the comfort of his balcony many lands away, Pope Albert smiled while tossing back a chalice of wine. A look of utter cunning that victory had always been in reach reflected in the gold surface that he lifted in celebration.

It was prophesized that summoning a hero who possessed a smartphone would bring peace to the world. There was no mention of the hero having the power to defeat the demon lord himself. Rather, Pope Albert had summoned enough otherworldly beings to know that their inventions held far more promise than the people themselves. After all, who would tempt fate by playing with mysterious artifacts with whimsies beyond this world’s knowledge? And who would bother to allow such unreliable persons to continue wielding such an advantage over them?

Certainly not Pope Albert. Certainly not the gods he worshipped.

He said an ‘Amen’ to that.