It was brief and small, but I will not soon forget it. I was not an archdemon at the time, and could be summoned through simpler means by any ambitious conqueror or tyrant. One who summoned me sought to trade some of his own people's souls in exchange for my services in conquering his neighbors. I knew this kind of deal was against the rules of Heaven and Hell, but I was young, reckless, and not opposed to inflicting additional suffering.

I reached a town of peasants on the kingdom's border, and I started to burn it to the ground. I hunted the townsfolk, striking them down as I came across them. This proved to be a mistake later on, as killing them sent them to Heaven, and alerted the Guardians to my activities.

As I razed the town, as I watched the people flee in every direction, I first felt the hunger. The next mortal I caught, I drank their soul as I squeezed the life out of them. I could feel the surge of power. A single soul had caused my strength to multiply.

I repeated this process with more mortals, and went and razed more villages. I was on my way to the third when the guardians arrived in their full force. This was the first time I felt the sting of a Celestial weapon singe my essence. I was outnumbered, and even with the power the souls provided me, I was still only a low level demon at the time. I did not stand a chance.

However, they never did free the souls I had consumed. I told no one, not even demons, what I had done with them. Nobody knew what had happened, and nobody knew how to free them. Nobody, that is, until the Blood Witch.

Those souls she freed from me had been within me for longer than her species has existed. She caught me off guard, and it cost me everything but my rank. I will ensure she pays for what she took from me with her own soul.