Chapter 3: King Paimon
Long, flowing hair, pale skin, a slender frame, animalistic legs, and soulless eyes.
Despite all of this, he was the most beautiful man Damien had ever seen.
"After centuries, it seems we finally have a contractor," his seductive voice rasped, immediately followed by the gruff grunt of his camel, which bore a crown on its head — glowing and blazing just like the one on his.
In that moment, Damien was too stunned to speak, captivated by the sight of the magical being before him.
"And young, like the last one." His lips curled up into an unsettling smile.
Damien felt a deep unease but knew better than to show it. This being was far more powerful than anything he'd encountered. He was wise enough not to offend it by speaking out of turn.
"Speak, boy," commanded Paimon, the crowned figure. "Ask whatever questions weigh on your mind."
Without hesitation, Damien blurted out the first question that came to him. "Who... are you?"
Not where he was, not why he was here — but who the figure before him was.
Paimon seemed amused by this. "A first," he said, his smile never fading. "Bael told me the last one asked where he was. Astaroth said the first one asked why. And the others — the ones in between — only wondered how they could return."
Paimon's camel sniffed the air, as if savoring Damien's scent.
"But you're the first to ask about me. Fascinating." His voice softened, almost pleased.
Damien, however, held his gaze, still waiting for an answer.
"I am Paimon, the 9th of the 72 noble demons, the Seer and the King, and the commander of 200 legions of demons." His voice, coarse and powerful, radiated authority. "And I am the guide to the twenty-seventh contractor."
"Me?" Damien whispered, barely able to believe it. Paimon nodded in acknowledgment.
"Not foolish, I respect that."
Everything was happening so quickly, it felt absurd.
Just hours ago, he was reading a book, and now he was being told that he was standing before a demon.
He was lost, confused, and on edge.
"But not brave either," the Demon King mused with a smirk. "Which is wise. Bravery has cost many their lives."
Damien stepped back, still trying to make sense of the situation. "Why am I here?" he asked, feeling as though his sanity was slipping. This couldn't be real — he'd checked before. He'd pinched himself when he'd first seen the goblins.
This was no dream.
"Why are you here?" Paimon echoed with a smile. "Of course, you're only a child, a human child at that."
Damien sensed the disdain in his tone but stayed silent, letting the demon continue.
"But the answer is simple, isn't it?"
Noticing Damien's confusion, Paimon pointed to the book clutched in his hands.
"Didn't you wish to change the life you were living?" Paimon asked, his voice almost taunting. "Didn't you answer the book's question positively?"
Damien blinked, and memory rushed back to him. He'd suspected the book was the reason he was here, but seeing Paimon, he'd almost forgotten.
"Then... wasn't it you who brought me here?"
Paimon laughed, a deep, gravelly sound. "Oh, no. I'd never think to invite a mere human here, let alone act as their guide." He seemed almost curious. "The book you hold is an ancient relic, one whose origins even I do not know."
Damien looked down at the book, the seemingly plain yet mysterious object that had caught no one's attention. Professors had dismissed it as inaccurate, and students had ignored it in favor of more colorful, interactive history texts.
It was starting to make sense to Damien. This book had been so thoroughly forgotten that no one bothered to examine it closely.
"How... how does it work?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the book.
"There are conditions, conditions you must have met," Paimon explained, "which is why you stand before me now."
"Conditions…" Damien muttered, trying to piece it together. "I only kept reading the book, and then page 666 suddenly reappeared—"
The realization hit him like a cold wind.
'Page number 666, at 6 a.m., and probably something else along those lines.' He frowned in thought. '666, the number associated with the devil, with evil and sorcery…'
His eyes widened, and Paimon nodded, seemingly pleased.
"I believe you've guessed the reason."
Damien didn't respond, still turning it over in his mind. 'That can't be the only trigger… maybe there's more, but what?'
He looked at Paimon, wondering how to address him. Remembering the demon's formal self-introduction, he chose his words carefully.
"Lord Paimon," he began. Seeing the demon's calm expression, Damien pressed on. "You mentioned others before me. Contractors, as you called them. What is a contractor?" He looked down at the book again. "And why did this book bring me here, offering me a chance to change my life?"
These were only two of the countless questions plaguing Damien's mind. However, he was wise enough not to probe further than necessary.
"Attentive," Paimon said with a hint of satisfaction. "You were listening to my words."
Damien was beginning to see Paimon as a stern, almost professor-like figure —willing to answer questions, but strict when it came to rules and decorum.
"And you would be right," the demon replied. "There have been twenty-six contractors before you: two successful, four who managed to quit, and twenty whom I still consider failures."
Paimon's gaze shifted to the book. "As for what the book itself wants, only it could tell you. I know only my purpose, and yours, for standing in this exact place."
"Which is?" Damien asked, intrigued.
Paimon chuckled, his gravelly voice echoing.
"Patience, boy," the demon said. "You wouldn't want to skip to one topic before finishing the last."
As Damien wondered at the demon's meaning, Paimon explained.
"A contractor is one who enters into deals and pacts with us demons," Paimon continued. "Among the seventy-two of us, only twice has it ever happened that all have agreed to become a patron to a mortal. Just twice out of twenty-six. Both of those individuals have left their names immortalized in your world."
Damien wanted to ask who these two were but remembered Paimon's earlier warning and stayed silent, listening intently.
"The rest could only contract with fewer than seventy-two, and many of them faced horrific consequences for their failure."
Damien's heart quickened, realizing the gravity of being a 'contractor.'
"A contractor —in this case, you," Paimon gestured toward Damien, "makes contracts with us demons, meeting our challenges, offering us entertainment, fulfilling a request, or whatever the demon might demand."
Damien noted silently that this was no easy task.
"In exchange, you gain gifts: powers, abilities, magic, knowledge, relics —countless treasures that could etch your name into history." Paimon's tone grew more serious. "But remember, it is not easy to fulfill the conditions of a contract. However, if you do, the rewards surpass what anyone could dream of."
Paimon pointed once more to the book. "You're curious about the two contractors who managed to secure contracts with all seventy-two demons, aren't you?"
Damien nodded eagerly.
"Oh, you know them well. Or at the very least, you've heard of them." Paimon smirked. "Your immediate predecessor, who arrived here centuries ago, is a figure deeply rooted in your magical history. Whenever mortal spellcasters speak of him, it's with reverence and awe."
Damien's mind raced, landing on a name that matched all those descriptions —a figure steeped in the history of magic.
"Merlin," he murmured, stunned.
Paimon chuckled. "Unnerving, isn't it? The wizard you idolized, the one revered as the greatest to ever live, turns out to have been a demon contractor."
Damien's silence said everything.
"Who…" He hesitated, then asked, "Who was the other successful contractor?"
"Almost three thousand of your years ago, the first contractor arrived here after finding a book within a fire," Paimon recalled. "He was wise, wiser than any human who came after him —yes, even wiser than Merlin."
Damien's eyebrows rose as he listened, captivated.
"He wasn't the strongest physically, but he used his intellect and resolve to complete the trials, not just passing them, but impressing the demons —myself included," Paimon continued, his tone almost nostalgic. "What a child he was," he paused, "or rather, is. Contractors who form contracts with all the demons do not die, though I am unaware of his whereabouts."
This revelation left Damien speechless.
"Contractors don't die?" He could hardly believe it. 'Then that means Merlin is alive, somewhere in the world?'
It was almost too much for him to process.
"That boy grew into a great man, a king, and became a figure not only in your magical lore but in your religious texts as well."
Damien felt a chill run through him. He didn't even want to know who the demon was referring to.
"He's mentioned in religious texts?"
The implications were chilling, and as Paimon finally spoke the name, everything seemed to fall into place.
"Solomon, Jedidiah, the wise king known to both wizards and ordinary humans alike."
Damien felt as if everything he'd ever studied might have been a lie or, at best, half-truths.
Because the man revered in the Bible, one of the greatest religious texts, had also been a demon contractor.
"Even the failures have left their marks in your books."
Snapping out of his daze, Damien looked up at Paimon and asked, "And who were they, Lord Paimon?"
Paimon shook his head. "It's not yet time for you to know. You will learn when the moment is right."
Damien wondered why the demon hadn't answered this question, even though he'd been open about everything else.
"I—"
"Do not worry about it, boy," Paimon interrupted. "You will understand once you make your first contract."
The demon gestured toward the book. "Though I cannot yet become your patron, I can still guide you on the path of a contractor." He smiled faintly. "This book has chosen me as your guide, and so, let me lead you on this journey."
Before Damien could respond, a sudden light began to shine from the magical book.
"And it seems the book is more eager than either of us."