Fall of a Martial Artist, Rise of a Demon Lord

Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma ½, Infernum or any related characters in any way, shape or form. This work contains themes that may offend – reader discretion is advised.

Author's Notes: This series began as a mere whim, an idle daydream that eventually culminated in a oneshot giving a rough outline of the 'ascension' of Ranma Saotome through the ranks of House Lictat after an accidental disjunction into the Hell of the Infernum RPG setting. But that oneshot proved amazingly popular, to the extent that others from the same hypothetical setting were requested. At last, I decided to admit that there were grounds here for a fullblown serial, and set to work charting Ranma's climb to his demonic throne.

Prelude: Plunge Into The Abyss

The streets of Nerima were filled with many people, the vast majority of which were perfectly ordinary, normal civilians, just going about their average daily lives. But, as always, there was that minority whose lives were anything but average, and whom the other people would deem quite abnormal indeed. And of those people, Ranma Saotome was considered an exemplar.

But all was not right in Nerima; a person who observed Ranma would notice that he was roaming aimlessly and listlessly, without his usual energy. Another martial artist would have actually mistaken Ranma to be Ryoga in a good mood if they had relied on sensing his aura to distinguish his identity- the amount of raw sorrow in him was very unusual. Oh, he wasn't weeping, or hating life, or anything like that- he was just quite firmly down in the dumps… rather unusual, considering how optimistic and cheerful Ranma usually was- even when angry, he usually found a way to turn that into motivation for petty trickery and cruel practical jokes on his enemy. So for him to be moping like this… well, it wasn't an ordinary thing with Ranma.

The reason behind this depression was simple; today was the day of Ranma's 17th birthday, and so far as he knew, nobody seemed to remember or even care about it. Not even Nabiki had picked up the obvious hints behind why he was asking if they knew what the date was, and he hadn't bothered to waste his time with Ukyo or Shampoo; given how little time he had actually spent with either of them, the possibility that they would even know he had a birthday was minute at best. If the girls that Genma intended to be Ranma's sisters-in-law and fiancée, respectively, had no clue what today was, then what chance did they have?

A more reasonable observer could have pointed out that there was no way that the Tendos could have known, given that Ranma was as secretive as a miserly oyster with a pearl, but Ranma wasn't always the most reasonable of people. His likely counter would have been that their father would have learned about today from his father, and they would have learned from their father. Speaking of fathers, it was perhaps Genma's fault more than anything that Ranma was as depressed as he was. While Genma would never win "Father of the Year", he hadn't been some kind of heartless monster; he had always remembered when it was Ranma's birthday on their training trip, often being better at it then Ranma himself was, and though their choice of activities probably wouldn't impress a more grounded kid, they had always managed to find a way to celebrate it together.

Ranma probably would have been less hurt than he was if Genma had forgotten what today signified to Ranma. The younger Saotome had eavesdropped on his father talking to Soun Tendo about today being Ranma's birthday… and excitedly going on about how this meant that the strength of the Saotome/Tendo arrangement was increasing. Very soon, there would be no real legal barriers keeping them from simply dragging Akane and Ranma to the altar and forcing them to marry. Hurt by this betrayal, Ranma had left the house, roaming through the streets in what was partially an effort to forget about his sorrows and partially a sulk.

Stopping at random, Ranma looked up to find himself standing in front of a creepy old antiques shop that he had never seen before. Now, given the life Ranma had lived since coming to Nerima, most would have expected him to promptly turn around and go back the way he came from. Instead, after looking through the window at all of the junk inside, Ranma shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and pushed through the door. The odds were slight, he knew that, but there might be a cure here- given some of the other junk that had shown up in stores like this, such as bras with attached ghosts and genuine phoenix eggs, it wasn't impossible. And even if he did just end up unleashing chaos (again), it would at least take his mind off of the disappointments of the day. Alright, maybe there was a vindictive part of him that found dark joy in the idea of watching everyone else's day be ruined, but could you really blame him?

Inside, the place looked like just about every other antiques store he'd ever seen in the past; dust and grime and bric-a-brac everywhere. In fact, it was so normal that he began to wonder if maybe he was mistaken and this was just an ordinary antique store, with nothing more magical in it then how the caretaker avoided choking to death on all the dust.

"Human…"

Okay, maybe not. Thin metallic whispers were not normal, even in Nerima, and Ranma looked around to try and find the source, anticipating having to flee for his life already.

"Over here, human…"

Slowly, almost against his will, Ranma followed the voice, finally coming to an isolated shelf housing a… well, Ranma wasn't sure what it was called. He wasn't what you'd call interested in sculpture, so he had no idea what the technical term for a statue depicting a head, without any other part of the body, or even a pedestal to rest on. The fact it clearly included cogs and other clockwork parts, all made from the same bronze as the rest of it, only made things more muddled. Things only got stranger when the clockwork spontaneously activated, the brazen head's eyelids opening to reveal crystalline eyes that focused on Ranma, its metal lips curving into a gentle smile.

"Hello, human… I've been waiting for you."

"Me? Who are you? What are you?" Ranma demanded.

"I have no name, for I am no person. I am a repository of arcane lore, a guide in the arts of magic, and I can feel the magic that lies upon you, that is woven into your very flesh…"

"The curse!?" Ranma hissed in shock. "You can feel it? Can you get rid of it?"

"That… I can do. For a price… I have languished in this dingy store for too long. Purchase me, take me to the outside world, and I shall take your troubles from you."

With that, it closed its lips and shut its eyes, its cogs ceasing to click and whir as it became an inert statue once more, refusing to answer Ranma's demands. Ranma probably should have been more cautious, but it was a proven fact that whenever the possibility of a cure came up, Ranma's good sense went out the window, and his sense of self preservation often went along for the ride. He carried it up to the front counter, where the mildly confused old woman who ran the shop sold it to him cheaply, commenting that she'd never known anyone to be interested in such an "ugly piece of bronze" before. Ranma said not a word about it speaking to him, instead leaving the store as quickly as was polite, then racing off for an isolated alley.

"Alright, you're out again, now, tell me the spell! Tell me what I have to do!" Ranma demanded.

"Simple enough. I will speak the spell; all you need do is hold me up and allow me to draw upon your energies to power the spell."

"Deal!" Ranma declared. Finally, after all of the heartache and havoc, all of the humiliation, rage and pain, the curse would be lifted from him once and for all! He raised the statue in near-reverence, listening to it as it began to chant, softly at first, then rising in volume until it seemed to echo like thunder. As the otherworldly words flowed off of its metallic tongue, energy began to pulse and crackle around them, surging wildly until Ranma looked more like a column of ball lightning than a human being. And still the brazen head continued to speak…

And then, the world seemed to drop out from under Ranma's feet. He had the sensation of falling for a long, long time in the span of a minute or so, then tumbled onto his side as though he had merely slipped. The impact didn't bother him- he'd taken much worse in the past. No, what prompted him to jump was something else…

"Cold! Cold-cold-cold-cold-COLD!!! Yaah!"

This final exclamation came about when Ranma realized he had just avoided falling off the side of a mountain- in fact, wherever he looked, there seemed to be nothing but mountains! Wind that screamed as if in pain and cut to the bone like razor sharp icicles slammed into him from all directions, and the sound of thunder roared off of the stone around him, a terrible storm plainly visible in the sky.

"What the hell? Where are we?" Ranma demanded. "You tricked me!" He roared.

The head said nothing, at first. Then, it began to laugh mockingly, going from tiny chuckles to a cacophony that almost drowned out the thunder and the wind. It was still laughing as Ranma hurled it into the void, bouncing off of the cliffs and out of site. Ranma stared after it as it vanished, then clutched his arms around himself, shivering wildly. While he was used to harsh climates, he still needed fundamentals like proper clothing- if he didn't get out of this wind soon, he'd freeze to death, martial artist or not! Picking a relatively level direction, he set off as fast as he could, already feeling the circulation in his limbs dropping.

Normally, Ranma, experienced in the ways of the wild, wouldn't just blunder into a cave. Normally, however, he wouldn't be in what felt like artic conditions without even the slightest form of protection. Fighting with an angry bear would be better then freezing to death! Barely able to feel his extremities now, he stumbled into the welcoming darkness, feeling a wave of heat (at least, that's what it felt like to someone as chilled as him) emanating from the rear of the cave. Desperate for warmth, Ranma lurched towards it, finding the cave continued deeper and deeper into the mountain. As it grew warmer the deeper he went, Ranma continued his spelunking session, aided by the presence of strange, phosphorescent growths on the walls. He was so focused on getting to the warm that he didn't even notice when the descending floor changed into a set of ancient, heavily weathered stairs.

The End… And the Beginning…