Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 38- Ophis and the Peerage System
AN: Beta'd by Basilisk!
Whelp, here I am. Back like lunar eclipse, showing up twice a year then disappearing away for the rest. Genuinely sorry for breaking the umpteenth promise I made, and hope it was the last time.
Over 11k words chap, with another one halfway cooked. Hope you enjoy!
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There was something uniquely intriguing about the battles between lesser Tiers. Something that tickled me in just the right way, so much so that I found myself actively leaning at the edge of my seat.
There was a sense of wildness to it, I decided eventually. A level of freedom that came with unrestrained use of power, uncaring of any greater consequences it may have upon the world. It had been a while since the last time I felt that thrill—the first Heracles fight perhaps—disappearing completely once I advanced to the 7th Tier. As the current battle progressed upon its course, I realized you could see what each fighter was shaping up to be in the future. The inklings of the path they walked and would aim to perfect.
One might think it would get boring after the initial excitement waned away, but that was the charm of this tournament. No fight was ever the same—well, almost.
And then it was over. A flash of purple crest—similar to the Satans' symbols the Mid-Class Devil had drawn for me yesterday—and suddenly a dozen icy shards were hurtling through the air, sniping the Four-Winged Angel down, for an easy finish via a sword thrust through the neck. A rare outcome; usually, the far more experienced Angels dominated the battles unless thoroughly mismatched.
As the current fight ended in the Devil Faction's victory, I leaned back in my comfy cushion and let a lazy eye slither across the room.
The Morn of my second day—since venturing past the halls of Hades—had me back within the enclosed bounds of the Devil stadium. I was seated in the exact spot I'd swindled my way into yesterday—in the Devil-lane, just beside Gabriel. Only this time, my true glorious self occupied the seat, while a new neighbor was added to my right; the actual bald-headed Satan, Falbium Asmodeus.
Occasionally, I would feel his accusing glare digging into the side of my skull, like a dagger of irritated resentment, likely grumling something unkind beneath his breath. Though to my initial surprise, the feelings my Domain picked up suggested his irritation had nothing to do with me punching the daylights out of him—quite literally—and everything to do with my admittedly abhorrent attempts at seducing Grayfia Lucifuge with his equally pathetic body.
The Deviless must've tattled behind my back.
'Oh, well.' I shrugged. 'Probably still the most game he'd had in centuries.'
Of course, we weren't alone in the VIP box. Around me were some of the most powerful beings in this part of Hell; the leaders of the Three Factions. Oftentimes, their eyes would be glaring with an intensity far surpassing even my own as the battles raged beneath us, some even forgetting their 'prim' personages and munching upon the snacks arranged on the table when the battle got particularly intense—which it usually did whenever High-Classes fought.
Unlike me, they actually had some serious stakes in this contest.
Yet, sitting amid this curious gang of entities, I didn't feel like an uninvited stranger barging into lands unknown. Even after that rocky first impression, and the callous disregard for Devilish-life that I'd demonstrated yesterday, there was a strange feeling of acceptance that I couldn't quite put my finger on…
Maybe it had something to do with the acknowledgement most of the Faction leaders seemed to shower my presence with—all bar none had introduced themselves to me at the first chance, genuine interest shining in their eyes. I, afterall, shared some blood with each of them, and was the son of the umbrella they had all united beneath.
Or, perhaps, it was the fact that my arrival was taken so grandly by most of the lower populace. When Sirzechs Lucifer had announced me officially—his voice gonging throughout the stadium, under some sort of voice-amplification magic—I hadn't expected such a rapid, turbulent shift in the desire wafting through the crowd. Despite being devils and angels all—each a part of the mythic history still revered to this day by the mortals—Gods, it would seem, were yet something to be looked upon with in awe and reverence for the general public. Even the fighters seemed to stretch their spines just a tad straighter—some of them legitimately strong Tier 5s, and a rare couple Tier 6s—their already grim Will to not embarrass their Factions growing ever sharper…
Or, last but never the least, it could simply be the presence of the perfect Angel sitting right beside me. Her fingers—so hesitant and cautious, yet eager and desperate—brushing against my own every so often, as if to remind herself I was still present, just here beside her, in flesh, and would not be leaving anytime soon.
I supposed the cushions beneath me could've done with a layer or two of wind, but that would be me truly scrounging the bottom of the barrel to marr this absolute perfection of a day.
The entertainment was gold, and the company even golden. That was all that mattered.
Or, well, it should've.
Alas, even the best of the days seemed to want to hide a ray of darkness within, dastardly as the times were. Watching the lesser Tiers scramble around in the mud—or in an ocean of fire, a lightning storm, a hurricane of ice, or dozen other calamities the battleground seemed to morph into—would've been perfectly okey doke with me, especially with the added dessert of my Angel's ample breasts pressed against my side as she very deliberately leaned over to whisper something…
But there was one topic none here could avoid, and as the battle between two new Peerages began anew—starting with a duo of Low-Classes; easily the least interesting of the bunch—the focus was inevitably drawn towards it.
"Ophis." Michael uttered, and the mere word seemed to void out any sort of levity or joy from the room. "I have heard of it." With a hint of hesitation entering his boyish features, he continued, "… Father's Words had a retelling of the two threats from the Outer world. He spoke of Ancient Primordials, preceding the birth of life itself. Beings that should be barred entry from these lands at any cost, lest they leave it a barren wasteland." The Archangel paused, glancing up at the Satans; no one could miss the troubled look that settled upon his brow. "There was a third name in it, but unless absolutely pertinent, I would prefer not to speak of it."
The Faction Leaders digested his words in silence. As did I, though I found myself quickly dismissing his cryptic last words, far more concerned in the Ascendant who I'd already had a brush of fate with.
I was beginning to realize Ophis might be an even bigger threat than I'd previously given her credit for. To put such fear in God himself—a being whose might was so great it still lingered in my psyche—meant it might potentially tower over the likes of Gaia and Tartarus. Something my namesake's words seemed to directly hint at, if 'preceding the birth of life itself' was taken literally.
I had no idea how one was supposed to fight such an entity. Hell, even the relatively normal Ascendants…what exactly separated them from the gods? I was just beginning to dip my toes into the godly business…ascending past it was still a fairy tale kept alive only through the System's promise.
For all I know, Supreme God might just end up being the limit. And from the way my level was beginning to crawl, even that seemed a tall order.
Frowning, I cast my gaze across the room. Thankfully, the rest of the Angels and Fallens were not nearly as fazed by Michael's tale as I might've expected them to be, once. Aside from one very gleeful Fallen traitor—I made a note to bust his case soon as I got some time in hand—they all seemed to have done their homework, having already read Zeus' letter with their own eyes. Lucifer simply hadn't seen any wisdom in hiding news of this magnitude.
A good thing, for I'd held every intention of spilling the beans myself had he not volunteered.
"Is there no stopping this war?" The Leader of the Satans finally broke the silence, addressing the entire room instead of just me. "No way to arrange for a meeting with the Infinity dragon?"
"Good luck with that." Azazel snorted. "Last I heard, that creature was seen many millennia ago. Maybe we can capture one of its lackeys though I doubt they know anything more than we do." He glanced at the Angels. "Even less so than some, I should assume."
My thoughts wandered to Katerea Leviathan. The information I'd coaxed out of her gave little idea on Ophis' deeper motivations or current location, though admittedly my focus had been far too fixed on the way her lips stretched around my cock than the words that came out of them.
'Perhaps I should contact her soon.' I mused absently. 'Interrogate her even more… thoroughly.'
But not yet. It wasn't out of the question, but it would certainly require more deliberation than a brief desire to corrupt her further.
'Especially after that disaster of a first attempt at exercising my Authority over a lesser Tier…'
"Though I take issue with the Vile One's insinuation, I must agree." Raphael the Archangel spoke up, reserving only a single very, very judgemental glance for Azazel. "Beings like her do not simply wander this plane on a whim. It is highly likely she walks the space beyond, uncaring of everything else. It would serve us better to divine her true intentions rather than gaining an audience with her."
The cheers of the crowd drowned out everything else within the VIP box. A brief lull of silence gripped the Faction leaders as a 4-Winged Fallen managed to drive a light spear through the arms of a Mid-Class Devil; the wretched scream as his arms sizzled and melted in front of their very eyes elicited a grimace from even the shit-stained traitor beside me.
"So," I broke the lull, glancing pointedly at Lucifer. "Now that we're all aware of the threat, I take it you've given the request in the letter some thought?"
The Satan smiled politely, though the sharpness in his eyes grew razor-thin. "Indeed, it is certainly an intriguing proposition. Though I wonder if I can trouble you with some questions?"
"Shoot." I waved him onwards.
I had no idea if the Devil was well-versed in modern lingo but he seemed to catch my drift. "If this war is about to be as… humongous in scale as we're being led to believe, I take it I'd be correct in assuming we're not the only ones being approached?"
I nodded, absently tightening my hold over my Domain, assessing any fluctuation in desires. "The Norse have already agreed to join us, while the rest of the Pantheons will soon declare their choice."
A look passed between Ajuka and Sirzechs; quick, a mere millisecond…had my Domain not alerted it, I might even have missed it. Their desires felt stifled—guarded and worried—but I could glean nothing inherently malicious. If anything, there was a certain reluctance to commit, as if they knew something I did not…
"Well now, don't keep it to yourselves." Not one to mince words, I pounced upon it instantly, arching a brow. "Anything you know might prove useful."
"Ah," The red-headed Devil forced a smile "They are only rumors, I'm afraid. And none I care to share right now. Perhaps you might consider a visit to my Mansion here?"
At least that much was true; he did not desire to broach the subject here at any cost. I shrugged and agreed.
The talks began to dwindle after that. No one seemed particularly willing to take a decisive front against the coming war, and I had to admit it ruffled my godly feathers just a tad. Everyone sitting in the room was a Tier 6 at the very least; even if they decided to play it safe and tangle only with mortals, the war would undoubtedly benefit a ton from their presence. Yet, here they were, quiet as mice, hedging bets on battles between the same weaklings whose lives would be threatened by their inaction…
What was the point of all this power, all this authority and millenia of experience, if they couldn't even fight to protect what was theirs? War was knocking on their door-steps, and now they chose the time to get cold feet?
To my surprise, it was the Angel beside me who raised her voice against the hesitant crowd. "I must admit, I expected a far more unanimous response from all who have gathered here today." Her voice, so unassumingly biting, sent shivers of discomfort down the spines of all present. "Ophis is a foe that cannot be threatened, bartered, or reasoned with. To even try so would speak of a distinct lack of intelligence on your part. Regardless of your decision, I hope you all realize me and mine will lend our support to Mikael, whatever come may."
Silence reigned supreme.
It took me a moment to pick my mouth off the floor, as I finished processing my first look at the glacial fury so widely famed in the lower echelons of Devil society.
'Well…' I shook my head. 'I suppose this is what they imagine when they shiver at the name of Gabriel Arkhangelsk.'
And the sheer intensity of her desires. Oh, how they pressed against my Domain, like embers of whittling fire roaring to life all around me…
"Of course." Sirzechs was the first to dare break the tense silence, whilst Michael and—shockingly—Azazel, seemed completely unwilling to meet eyes with their sister. "I would not stand against your decision. And I apologize if my words were misunderstood, but I have not yet rejected Olympus' proposal. I simply ask that we not give into haste, and approach this issue with the due diligence it deserves." Halting, the Satan looked around the room, emphasizing his words, "After all, we are gathered here to forge a new bond between the Three Factions. While Ophis may present a greater threat, it would not do to ignore our common purpose."
Gabriel looked ready to shred Lucifer apart limb from limb, but I quickly palmed the back of her hand.
And just like that, all the anger seemed to drain out of her as suddenly as it had come, her desires twisting in the most delicious of ways…
Smiling—and marveling—I gently pressed my thumb into her palm, and for a moment I almost imagined the room breathing a sigh of relief as my mother took her eyes away from the crowd.
For the rest of the meeting, she did not let my hand escape.
Sadly, her words—though completely beguiling me to fall in love once again—did not fill me with any comfort. As much as I would undoubtedly enjoy her greater presence around me, I'd rather she stayed down far, far away from the battlefield.
While I had no doubts about her strength—I could literally see the astonishing growth in her stats—and much as her greater experience regarding matters like this would prove absolutely invaluable to me, I simply couldn't stop my heart from racing in unease at the thought. The last thing I needed was some stupid twist of Fate; even disregarding the Ascendant, it would take but a single powerful Elder God to slay either of us.
'Or even just a group of True Gods setting up a proper ambush.' I mused. 'Something like a combination of Apollo, Hermes, and Artemis might do the trick perhaps…"
While I'd amassed an unimaginable amount of power in too short a time, there was still much I remained completely ignorant of, especially when it concerned True Gods. The less spoken of the Elder and above the better. And that was without considering the wider world at large; just how many Elder deities roamed these lands? How many Pantheon leaders touched Tier 10? I refused to believe every minor Patheon would have a behemoth like Zeus at the helm, yet I held little truth beyond reasonable logic.
'I have to get stronger.' The thought was not a new one, though it meant just a bit more today.
A Divine war of epic proportions was just the stage for some long-hidden god to make an entrance. I wagered slaying the new Olympian God of War and his former Archangel mother would be just the feat needed to kickstart their godly career with a bang.
The talks around the group simmered down as the fights in the Arena continued onwards. With a tacit agreement that the Olympian business had come to a halt for the time being, the Faction leaders resumed their little games once again.
Whenever a Faction managed to cinch a win, the winning leaders would pipe up with carefully chosen requests and terms. Then, the Three Factions would begin negotiating.
Whilst the talks of Olympus and Ascendants hadn't managed to gain any traction, these requests proved to be a hotly contested subject. All four of the Satans took turns pushing and prodding, and were matched with equal fervor by the other factions; even Gabriel chipped in now and then. I—alongside the Traitor bird—remained the only ones to stay silent.
At any other time, I might've simply got up and vacated the premises; two things stopped me. One, my Angel…and two, my Angel's cute attempts to keep me mostly in the loop.
The Tournament as a whole held far greater meaning than I'd previously assumed. Gabriel explained it in brief and insultingly simple terms; the Factions were united under the shared promise of mutual benefits. Each of the three wanted something from the rest, though even my mother did not fully know what. The Devils, at least—she'd informed—kept their expectations simple.
When the first High-Class team of the day—led by some Sairaorg Bael—managed to shred the wings of their last Angelic foe, Sirzechs Lucifer released an explosive sigh and leaned back in his chair, relieved.
"I apologize if this is perceived as an insult, but I would like to touch upon a taboo that has been around for a very long time now." The Satan went straight to the point, his jovial stature suddenly melting under a grim visage. "The name of God." His left eye twitched. "Something Devils are explicitly forbidden from uttering, under the threat of pain or worse."
While Michael remained calm, I could see the Archangels behind him stiffening up, the beginnings of a frown forming on their faces. It did not take a genius to figure out what Sirzechs wanted.
Before either of them could retort, Lucifer held up a hand. "I realize breaking a law made directly by God might seem blasphemous to you, but you have to consider it from our perspective. You wish for our help to create a system that could reincarnate mortals into angels, yet even now you punish us for the same gift. Have you never considered how difficult it is for newly turned devils to suddenly give up on a word they've used for most of their mortal lives? To be punished, tortured even, for no fault of theirs other than dying…that seems exceedingly harsh, don't you agree?"
Another uneasy silence descended over the room, and Gabriel quickly explained to me what it all exactly meant.
The Angels were stuck between a rock and a hard place, for either choice meant potentially offending at least one party. One, they could stick to their guns and deny the Devils a request that made an awful lot of sense—thus, risking their entire purpose behind attending this festival—or two, they could choose to give in, with the implications being they disagreed with God's choice, which risked offending other Seraphs and lesser Angels who might not be quite as… thrilled, to say the least.
There was only one person in the room who saw no problem with the situation.
"Well, seems to me it's a fairly easy choice, no?" Azazel smirked, and I could see one of his companions closing his eyes in long-suffering silence. "Father's not been around for a while, and like it or not, the world has moved on quite a bit since we last felt his… continued presence. His precious little children are now all too happy to throw their lots with the 'insidious' devils, aren't they? Why, some of those mortal movies I've seen recently…" He fanned his neck with his fingers as if witnessing something truly scandalous.
"Enough." Uriel commanded, the fire lighting in his eyes promising violence if things kept up at the same pace. "I hear the wisdom behind Lucifer's words, but you will not sully this hall with your vileness. Not today."
Perhaps Shemhazai's continuous pinching of his side finally bore some fruit, for Azazel simply raised his hands in surrender, zipping his mouth animatedly. By the look in his eyes though, I knew the Fallen was completely and utterly unbothered by the unspoken threat.
It took reminding sometimes, but Azazel was a Tier 7 entity, and likely packing some disaster-level hax. Last I heard, he was still busy engaging in his obsession with Sacred Gears. I had no idea if his research bore any fruit, yet someone as infuriatingly smug as him probably roamed with a Sacred gear or two in his back-pocket. Made me wonder of the hell he must've put Issei through…
Despite the volatile emotions running rampant, nothing truly came out of this discussion either. Michael promised to consider it in true faith and the Faction leaders moved on to the next fight. After the incident, most of the requests they made were more diplomatic in nature, avoiding anything heavy-handed, ranging from the division of mortal lands and countries, and their bases of operation, to the unique resources found only in Heaven or Hell. There were times I was dragged into the talks, for as a True Olympian my word carried weight. And while I would've loved to take part in something that might go down in History as one of the most important moments of Three Factions—and might relate directly to me, in the future—I ultimately refrained.
Any relations between Pantheons—or Monotheistic groups, for that matter—was still a mystery to me at large. And honestly? I wasn't looking to solve it any time soon. It would take just way too long an investment to properly educate myself on millenia worth of politics.
It made me wonder why Zeus even chose me here, rather than wait for Hermes to return. While it was proving to be a good choice in hindsight, Zeus shouldn't have any way of knowing that Gabriel was here. I simply couldn't imagine the King of Gods keeping an ear on about Devil news.
Soon, however, the evening dwelled down and the Factions prepared to disperse for the day. I exchanged small talks with some of them, with the Angels in particular proving very, very curious about my existence—not simply the fact of my parentage, but also my showing of Holy Power the previous day, which had tickled their senses in alarming ways. They weren't blatant about it, of course, but as a God of Desire, there was little I couldn't eventually glean out.
I rejected their offer to visit them.
Part of me still held onto the irritation from earlier; undoubtedly, some of it stemmed from the fact that my failure to convince them had felt a tad… personal. If things went as God supposed them to, I would eventually be upholding his Domain and rule over his kingdom, and this entire quest felt like my first trial upon that path. While the rewards did not hint at it, it stood to reason that it might directly affect my Compatibility with the Domains of God.
After all, God's Domain encompassed his rule over all the Three Factions. And now, there was some very real possibility that my Compatibility with the Major Domain of Holy Power—when the time came to choose—would be taking a hit. Simply because the Three Factions were bloody cowards.
I could, as Zeus and the quest suggested, simply convince Ajuka and Sirzechs to join the war efforts and wash my hands off of em'…but I would much rather march upon Olympus with my own damned army of Angels, Fallens, and Devils.
Despite my reluctance, however, they managed to inform me of their living arrangements. It came as a surprising revelation that an entire part of the City had been reserved for the Angels, simply to avoid any unpleasant… accidents. The Fallen, meanwhile, had more or less blended in with the Devil, though they had their own Villas in the City. Azazel—true to his fashion—refused to open up about his own current stay, apparently knowing the city well enough to wander with impunity.
Contrary to his expectations, I couldn't have cared less. I had much bigger fish to fry, and one of them was the first lesson on Devil magic under the guidance of Satan Beelzebub.
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Her steps rang hollow within the Hall. A deep silence that spoke to the nature of the abandoned Manor. At any other time, it would've annoyed her to no ends to take a single step inside; it's unashamedly mortal-make, its plastered walls that gave the whiff of long-rotten paint and concrete, the small cracks along the ceiling that ran across its entire length, the random white switch-boards—now rusted with specks of brown—fixed upon the walls to connect those little mortal devices…it would've taken her all to hold her temper together. A devil of her station deserved better.
Yet, today she took comfort in her own disgust. It made her forget, just for a moment…that Katerea Leviathan had very good reasons to be nervous today.
Her glasses sat still on her nose, yet the eyes behind couldn't help but dart along the corners like a restless gazelle. She felt like a traitor with every click of her heel upon the wooden floor, as she ventured deeper into the manor where her allies awaited her presence.
Her allies. The remaining two descendants of the original Satans, the rightful rulers of the Devils, who—alongside her—were meant to overthrow the current passive worms heading their race…
Their plan had been a long-time forming, and they had trusted her with its first step—no matter how hesitantly. To truly embed themselves within the Khaos Brigade, and gain the trust of the Infinity Dragon God. Her job had been simple. The plan had been simpler still.
Kill the new Olympian.
Knowledge about the miraculous son of Gabriel had been known to them for quite some time now. A powerful entity to be certain, especially after the shocking displays against Heracles and Ares…yet a Minor God nonetheless. Having ascended only recently—according to the Titan King—his power was supposed to have been ungathered and raw. With a goddess of their own on the side, and some truly powerful magicians, Katerea had been certain they could've posed a threat to all but the most Elder of gods, which Mikael Gabrielson most assuredly was not. It was an army so fearsome, she would've been ready to wager her soul that a long, lazy evening was all it would take to conquer the entirety of Hell, alongside those pathetic, vile fake-Satans…
Oh, how wrong they were. How arrogant, how delusional.
She had spent a longer time with her lips wrapped around his cock than in the battle arrayed against him. The things she had done, the words she had uttered, moaned even, like a mortal wench…she still couldn't quite make sense of it. Couldn't believe she, Katerea Leviathan, the proud descendant of Leviathan, the rightful ruler of Hell…had begged to be used like a common harlot.
And used, she had been. The sheer pleasure of the moment was seared deep within her psyche. Like a dream that was meant to disappear after awakening, yet stubbornly clung to the mind, burnt into her memory forever.
Katerea flushed, her steps slowing in pace.
Some of that had undoubtedly been due to the god's Domain. She still remembered losing consciousness when the Olympian flared his Divinity. Exactly what it was, she couldn't begin to gauge; she remembered only a flash of golden radiance, then a sight so perfect, so astonishing in its beauty, so breathtaking in its existence, that she instinctively knew she was not supposed to witness it.
Then, darkness.
That sort of power should not belong to a Minor deity…yet, that same belief had lodged home a false sense of confidence and security within them, and they had paid for it with complete annihilation.
'Minor God, my ass.' Katerea scoffed, before stiffening abruptly as another memory assaulted her.
Wincing in self-consciousness, she rubbed her own behind. It still pulsed with phantom sensations almost every step, as if remembering the behemoth that had recently made its home inside…
Flushing anew, Katerea quickly shooed the memories away. It had barely been two days since, yet the world seemed to be moving at far too swift a pace. The war had advanced a stage further, that much was abundantly clear. She still hadn't reported her failure officially, though all who was supposed to know already knew.
In fact, she hadn't even planned to return back after a failure like that—curse Creuserey, curse Shalba, curse the Satans and the entirety of Khaos Brigade, she would rather make her own way, far, far away from this accursed war. It was simply beyond anything she could've ever planned or asked for…
…But the mark pressed under her left breast—so lovingly left behind by him—reminded her it wasn't quite so simple; her life was no longer her own. Now, it belonged to the god who had made her feel like a teenage lust Devil, facing her first battle against her Sin.
She did not know exactly what the mark did, and by the mutterings of it being his first time, she doubted her new divine master/employer fully did either. Yet she knew its power, and she knew its purpose—her orders were simple.
She was to be a spy. A worm, a parasite, acting against her own kind and more…
To her even greater guilt and shame, Katerea Leviathan found a part of her, and a very large part at that, saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. After witnessing his power through her own eyes, she had quickly realized their shared goal of world domination was nothing but a deeply-imbedded delusion inspired by a lack of perspective and a great deal of entitlement. Even an actual goddess like Circe was nothing but a plaything to someone of Mikael Gabrielson's level, and he was but the newest addition to the Olympians. What could three Devils, barely capable of exchanging blows with the most Minor of Gods, be capable of doing against entire Pantheons?
Throwing her lot with an Olympian painted a far better picture of her future than clinging to a dying ship did. It rankled at her pride, sure, but she should've thought of that before she'd so enthusiastically serviced the god on her knees. Besides, her choice didn't truly matter in the end, did it? Mikael Gabrielson had already claimed her. This…this was simple survival, nothing more. A sound, logical decision that made sense aplenty…
She consciously ignored the sinful part of her existence that whispered another reason. A reason born from the remembrance of the sheer raw desires she had experienced that day.
Being his eyes and ears would mean another visit in the future…The insidious Lust whispered, and Katerea found herself hastening past cobweb-filled hallways and up a dilapidated set of stairs, trying desperately to focus on the presence of the allies she sensed.
Yet, she couldn't help but question herself. Was a simple promise of pleasure all that was needed to turn a proud descendant of the true Satans into a loyal follower? Was being the official sword-swallower of a god the highest she could aim for in life? Could she possibly fall any lower?
Taking a deep breath, she composed herself. While a tornado seemed to be brewing within her heart, there were still risks in this approach and she would do well to remember that. The others cannot suspect anything.
She rather doubted her godly patron would come swooping in to save her. Not unless she proved useful.
Knocking on the wooden door twice, Katerea twisted the knob and let herself in.
A faintly lit hall revealed itself; long but narrow, with a lone window fixed at the back-end. Some mortal baggage still littered the floor, but otherwise the hall was empty—enough to send the crack of her door echoing against the walls. While she understood the need to meet discreetly, it irritated her already restless heart even further.
Her two fellow Heirs were already present inside; one pacing the floor with a clear frown fixed on his face, whilst the other lounged languidly against the sole chair placed at the back.
The creak of her arrival had both their heads instantly swivel towards her.
"You're late." The lounging Devil—Shalba Beelzebub—snapped at once, pushing himself up his feet lazily.
Katerea did not deign a reply, striding over to stand at their middle.
The other devil, Creuseres Asmodeus, had stilled in place, peering at her head-to-toe as she came to a stop beside him. "Are you injured?" He asked in supposed-worry, though the familiar hunger behind his eyes as they lingered upon her exposed cleavage remained the same.
"No, I am not, Asmodeus." The venom in her snap stopped the Devil short. For some reason, the fawning in his gaze simply worsened her mood today, failing to deliver the usual sense of superiority and satisfaction. "And unless I missed something, I haven't turned into an inept child while you two weren't looking either."
Shalba took her admonishment in stride, but she could see an indignant hurt flash on Creuseres' features.
They had engaged in occasional proclivities of intimate nature in the past. While she'd never considered it with anything resembling close to sincerity, he had offered to make her his Queen once they overthrew the Satans. To rule together and effectively increase their authority, even amongst other Satans…
Now she wondered what he would say if he knew the truth about the last two days. Nothing good, she wagered. Or, perhaps, he might simply hold his tongue and bear it in silence. Power held a unique sway over their species; strength was to be worshiped, while weakness despised. And Mikael Gabrielson carried with him strength in spades.
Yet, she found she no longer cared; even comparing the two made her want to scoff. The devil simply couldn't stand up to her god. The meaning of true might was entirely lost to him—as had been to her, but a few days ago—and had he possessed even the slightest hint of her patron's charm, she wouldn't have waited this long to accept his proposal.
"As for my arrival…" She turned to Shalba, glaring down her specs. " You should've chosen better than a revolting mortal mansion in the middle of nowhere." This much was needed, she felt; she had always been a prickly sort and responding to a challenge with silence might rouse their suspicion.
"Inconsequential." Beelzebub waved it off, crossing his arms. "I take it our plan did not exactly go how it was supposed to?"
She rolled her eyes, another scathing retort on her tongue, but Asmodeus beat her to it.
" 'How it was supposed to'?" The Devil sneered. "Did you truly hope for something different? It's clear the Titan Lord is blind as an eye-less angel; had he not been so integral to our plans, I would've considered sending him straight back to his Pit while we still can!" He took a deep, calming breath, before continuing more coolly. "Yet, he is Infinity's favorite still so the blame will be shouldered by us, no doubt. We'd be lucky if the Dragon Goddess does not force-feed us those accursed serpents of hers." Pausing, his eyes flickered between the two, contemplative. "Unless…are either of you considering volunteering?"
Katerea maintained her silence. She wasn't willing to admit, but she had given it an unhealthy amount of consideration. The serpent might've twisted the Greek god into a monstrosity, but no one in that room had missed the swelling of his power.
Now, however, her priorities had changed. Sacrificing her beauty was no longer an option. Her Divine Lord would end her misery if she came looking like an old enemy. He had spared no mercy for Heracles.
"It does not matter." Shalba dismissed it away once more. "It will be some time yet before Ophis calls on us again. I believe the matter of Gabrielson would be completely delegated to the Titan King. That said, perhaps one of us should attend in place of Katerea this time. Mayhaps it will soften the blow against our failure."
Her heart jumped in her throat. "No!" She snapped, startling the two. Trying desperately to mask the slight edge of panic marring her mind, she forced a degree of composure in her voice before continuing. "That is wholly unnecessary. This is my burden to carry, and I shall answer for it personally, to the Dragon God herself if need be."
She might've considered it a blessing mere couple days ago, yet now she must place Mikael's wants above hers. Losing a chance to gather Intel would make her patron god quite unhappy.
Not a positive news for her continued health. Or her silent desires.
"Well…" Shalba blinked, taken aback. He glanced at Creuseres as if to confirm his hearing before giving a shrug. "So long as you are certain, I suppose."
"Let us not waste time focusing on inane matters." The Asmodeus Heir grumbled, turning to her. "What happened there, Katerea? We know only that the Island was sunk to the bottom of the ocean, with its occupants likely dead or missing. Before you contacted us, we considered you in the latter."
Sighing, Katerea turned away from the duo, ambling over to the unoccupied chair slowly, her mind whirling through the list of possible scenarios she'd conjured up for this exact occasion.
She took a seat heavily, as if tired by the mere mention of the event, before meeting their gazes with a weary calmness. "That is exactly what happened." To her relief, her voice remained unwavering. "The new Olympian…he was far stronger than we'd realized. We never stood a chance. Euclid and the rest of his Nilrem elites are dead, while I barely managed to escape myself. As for the goddess Circe…I have no idea what fate awaited her. I did not have the luxury to stay and find out."
"I doubt we will see her again." Creuseres noted with a grimace. "Rumors suggest she is locked away in Gabrielson's palace on Olympus, to be his immortal concubine until he tires of her."
Shalba, on the other hand, held a glint in his eyes that forced Katerea to raise her guard.
"And how did you manage to escape?" He asked carefully. Though it wasn't blatant enough to clue Creuseres in, Katerea read the note of suspicion in his voice clearly.
'Damned Beelzebub.' Had she given something away? Or had he kept her ignorant of one of his sources? Far as she knew, there was no other soul around them for many, many miles. He might've had some means to interrogate one of the Sea monsters, perhaps, but she rather doubted it.
Holding her face carefully blank, she did not tarry in her answer. "Goddess Circe took her divine form to battle the Olympian. I knew it would not last long, knew he was simply toying with her. The island itself was already beginning to tear at the seams. So the moment I saw an opportunity, I took it, teleporting haphazardly towards mortal lands. However, I was grievously injured and could not return at once."
Silence settled over the room as the two digested her shabbily-crafted bullshit.
After a few seconds, Creuseres nodded quietly. "You did well. I doubt even the Titan Lord would blame you. I'm simply glad you do not share Circe's fate. To think his new godhood would allow him to act so impudently…I shudder to think what he would've done had he gotten his hands on you."
She masked her amusement behind a cough. 'Ah, if only you knew…'
"I'm more curious what result this would induce." Shalba mused, folding his arms. "Thrice now Gabriel's whelp has defied Khaos Brigade. Each one has cost us valuable allies. Now, either the Titan Lord will see the folly of targeting him, or throw all caution to the wind and assemble a force great enough to completely annihilate the boy. Might present us an opportunity."
'Boy…' Katerea suppressed a contemptible snort, focusing on the only thing that mattered. 'He's more of a man than either of these two combined.'
"Whatever it shall be, I doubt it will come anytime soon." Creuseres maintained. "For now, the Olympian is none of our concern. Assuming he does not come after Katerea in some twisted mockery of revenge, I believe we have some important matters to attend to. The 'Unity' festival. Shall we resume our plans regarding it?"
To her increasingly conflicted mind, the three spent the next hour and a half discussing the finer details of a plan that had been long in the making. If either noticed the growing lack of interest in Katerea's participation, they did not mention it. And try though she might, she found her heart was simply not in it anymore.
Merely two days ago, the coming event would've sent her blood roaring; finally, after the many centuries of patience, they would be actively taking action—striking directly at the heart of the four Satans. The plan had been put to motion the moment their informants had announced the Festival's conception. It was the perfect opportunity to announce their presence to the world at large, giving hope to the like-minded devils suffering under the heels of the useless usurpers, as well as kick-start the Civil War between the Three Faction anew.
…Katerea wished for no part of that anymore.
There was nothing but a curdling sense of discomfort within her, along with a need to get as far away from it as possible. From the answers the young Olympian had forced out of her, she could glean at one indisputable fact very clearly; Mikael Gabrielson loved his mother dearly. And the former Archangel was the main power behind this gathering of Three Factions. To strike against the Festival meant to strike against Gabriel.
Katerea was many things, suicidal was not one of them.
"Whatever happens, the Devil-kind cannot be allowed to ally themselves with either of those winged weaklings." Shalba beseeched his last words, their meeting having run its course. "Some of our associates are already brewing the beginnings of chaos. I shall gather the rest of the Old King Faction, whilst Creuseres will herd the remnants of Nilrem together. Euclid's death has left them without a leader, and I sense a marvelous opportunity." He turned to her, a glint of cunning in his eyes. "You, on the other hand, shall meet up with our inner contacts to ascertain a plan of action. This time, failure is not an option. For the alternate is the death of the Old King Faction, and with us, the last Heirs of the true Satans."
Katerea kept her face carefully neutral. She knew a normal reaction for her here would be to display some outrage at being ordered, but she was far too busy nursing the birth of her own, very personal plan.
This…this was exactly the opportunity she needed to make her utterly invaluable in the eyes of her Divine patron. All she needed now was for a way to contact him.
While it was too early to celebrate, things might be looking up for Katerea Leviathan.
Finally.
----------------------------
The streets of Bael City were alive with a magnitude of excitement I wouldn't have thought devils were capable of bearing. At least, not before this day.
Loud crowds blocked almost every inch of the city square. Shops and stalls—big and small—lined up the sides in droves, all choke-full of Low and Mid-Class devils—and occasionally a High-Class, surrounded by a portion of their Peerage—mingling together in shared exhilaration and eagerness. Their hands carried an assortment of wares—ranging from figurines and play cards to costumes and props—while their mouths chattered away about the day's events; on which King would last the longest, and which Angels they wouldn't mind defiling, and which Fallen had the smallest wings…
It was a tad embarrassing to admit now, but my first impression of the City—marred by my previously gripping need to sort out some very personal problems—hadn't done it any true justice. As I let my attention wander further, I realized I could even hear a train arriving at its station, along with roars of engines I suspected belonged to automobiles; though considering the quality of the air, I was willing to bet it did not run on mortal fuel.
While it might not be capable of keeping me entertained day in, day out, the City wasn't nearly as lifeless as I'd made it out to be. Without that pricking sense of dread and angst hovering over my head, I found myself soaking up in its people's spirit through my Domain, extending my senses as far as I could.
Perhaps the special occasion had something to do with it, but the overwhelming raw desire that answered back had me lost in the sensation for a brief moment.
Unfortunately, this was not a pleasure tour, and I wasn't here alone.
Hidden beneath the disguise of common Mid-class devils, Ajuka Beelzebub and I weaved through the busy streets unaccosted. Not a new experience for me to be certain, but the Satan's casualty with it proved a tad surprising.
"What did you think of today?" The Devil asked suddenly, absently extending a hand to brush away a Mid-Class on the collision course with us.
Humming, I let my eyes wander across some of the more buxom figures in the crowd. "Of the Tournament or the talks?" For some reason—that I absolutely wasn't complaining about—most of the High-Class Peerages had at least a couple female exhibitionists who proudly let their assets bounce along in relative freedom.
Beelzebub spared me a glance. "Either. Both."
I snorted. "What, you're going to analyze me? See what makes me tick?"
"Of course. I believed that was a given when you agreed to this."
I took a quiet moment to consider my thoughts, absently making sure I didn't accidentally trample over some poor sod. That much, at least, the devils in both the Cities had in common; they were not afraid to crush you beneath their feet, given the opportunity. In fact, there seemed to be a portion of security reserved to thwarting the exact situation, and judging by the scrambling of wings overhead, they looked to be very active.
I turned back to the Satan. "Very well, have at it then. Tournament? Eight out of ten. Fights were fun, reminded me of my time as a far weaker mortal, though I wouldn't mind shifting the gears to the next level…Ultimate-Class, I believe they are called? I'm expecting some real eye-wideners for tomorrow's main show. The talks, on the other hand…" I sneaked a glance at the Satan but his impassive face and still desires made it hard to guess his thoughts. "I'm disappointed, if not slightly contemptuous of your dithering. Ophis sounds like a threat that could easily swallow all Three Factions in her plan—whatever she might be cooking. I was expecting a more direct and firm approach; no matter if the answer's a 'yes' or 'no'."
For a few seconds the Devil stayed quiet, and we finally left the embrace of the crowd, heading through a stone gate that sported a massive statue in the middle. I'd almost thought I wouldn't be getting any feedback when he looked up at me, and I realized he was simply choosing his words carefully.
"Matters such as these are still novel to you." He began slowly. "There are moments where I almost forget your true age, but patience is one thing all long-lived beings learn sooner or later."
I decided not to voice some very choice insults that bubbled within me in response, my Domain picking onto the fact he truly meant no veiled slight.
The Satan took us past the gate, and the guards at the entrance simply stood to the side as we shed our disguise. "We begin to think not in terms of days or years, but the next centuries and how it might shape our future. And a matter such as Ophis threatens to change not mere centuries or millennia, but our entire existence heading forth." Up the stairs we climbed, making our way towards the behemothic statue that slowly began to encompass my entire vision. "You might deem it cowardly, but even abandoning our homes to hide away in some small corner of Hell is not out of the equation when a threat such as this comes knocking."
His words truly stumped me—a rarity, to be certain. I had spent so long in the world of Greeks, that pride had seemed but a facet of life; something that was reiterated every time I grew in strength, shedding away more of what made me mortal. From lesser Divines to the most Minor of gods, and then the Olympians themselves…pride remained a common constant shared by all existences. Even Demigods did not simply run away, when faced against unfathomable odds…
Yet here was a Tier 9 existence, whose raw power surpassed even Zeus, unashamedly proclaiming his intention to tuck his tail and start sprinting in the other direction…
Shaking my head, I redirected my attention to our new surroundings, trying to regain my equilibrium. The place seemed to have some importance if the presence of hidden Devils—one even Ultimate-Class—was to be taken into consideration. Two sat still on the shoulders of the statue—hidden beneath a layer of illusion—and I finally raised my head to take the structure in full.
Three interconnected stone heads—the left of a cat, the right of a toad, and the middle of a human—stood tall and proud, towering over almost everything in the near vicinity. It graced the open balcony with its sole presence, thrumming with a faint whiff of Demonic Power. The human head sported a gray crown, and a large symbol was carved at its perch; strangely, it almost resembled a compass, except the directions of N, E, S, W were replaced with B, A, E, L, whilst the inner circle held a shape similar to Paimon's crest, with basic, minute changes in the details.
'King Bael, probably.'
Still, while the statue was a curiosity, it was what it was hiding behind that seemed to be our destination. As we rounded past it, I got my first glance at what looked like a grand Ceremonial Hall; flat and long, and of decidedly ancient-make.
Finally, having utilized my last avenue of distraction, I turned back to the Satan with a sigh. "I won't patronize you with talks of cowardice or try to inspire courage. But I just have to ask…have you considered the possibility of what would happen if the Primordial finds your hidey-hole? You might not know this, but there are Devils bound in Ophis' service. It is not far-fetched to realize that your people might be the next ones in its crosshair. Should it chase you down here, what do you intend to do? Roll over and show your belly to the beast?"
The Satan shook his head, unbothered. "You need not convince me. Even without our agreement, I would have voted to support you."
Surprised, I slammed my mouth shut.
Beelzebub continued, "My calculations may not be capable of peering past the power of a Primordial, especially a being like Ophis, but I have enough insight to know a great threat arises in the shadows. It vexes me, but I do not believe Ophis to be the cause, yet I cannot see what lurks in the darkness, hiding from my sight. Above all, I hope to face it together."
Pausing at the base of the large closed doors of the Grand Ceremonial Hall, Ajuka Beelzebub turned to face me.
"I shall support you, as per our agreement. I shall convince Sirzechs and the rest of the Satans to follow you against the enemies of Olympus, even if this goes beyond what I promised. But ultimately, the decisions of a Faction are made by those who hold influence over our society, and Satans are not alone in that. A single party rebelling now could create a chism we naturally would like to avoid." He gave me a pointed glance.
I looked at him incredulous, catching his drift. "There is no fucking way you are blaming Gabriel for taking my side."
"Of course not. But It does create problems for us. Gabriel is one of the most influential figures in our Faction. I believe Sirzechs and Grayfia are now scrambling around, trying to think of a way out of this mess without offending anyone. It is a heavy burden my friend carries, and I suspect it may get heavier yet. The Great King Faction is yet to make their move, let alone the more chaotic elements working in our underbelly."
I rubbed my forehead slowly. "Sounds…complicated." Nightmarish was the word I wanted to use.
Politics. Was that truly the biggest enemy of power?
"Indeed." Ajuka's lips curved up in a slight smirk. "Why do you think I choose to stay away?"
I snorted, before approaching the closed double doors that towered over us both. "Well? Are we heading in or not?"
"Of course." A touch from the Devil and the doors promptly began moving, slowly grinding open to reveal a grand Entrance Hall. "I had another reason to ask of the tournament." We headed in, and I blinked away the sudden change in the lighting. "I had hoped for you to gain a basic understanding of the Peerage system through the battles. Have you?"
I turned to him with a frown. "Sure, not that difficult. Makes it easier with it based on Chess pieces. Also, it wasn't as if I was completely ignorant before. Had a short crash course from a Mid-Class while on the way here."
"Recite it for me, please."
I rolled my eyes. "The short of it is, you created a system aimed at resurrecting different species into Devils. The system works through magical chess pieces—again, something I wholly approve of—with the King as the leader and the rest as their servants. Eight pawns and seven named pieces." I paused. "I just have to ask though, what's with the name? Evil pieces? Seriously? Didn't think you of all devils would actually take pride in being evil. Doesn't quite make sense with your whole spiel."
"I'm afraid I was not the one to name them thus." Ajuka grimaced. "I could've opposed it, I suppose, but I was young and lacked much of my current wisdom. Either way, I wish to further iterate the role a peerage plays in a Devil's life. It is not simply to wage battles in a tournament or lord them around as servants." Heading past the high-ceilings of the Entrance Hall, we made our way through the many inner hallways and corridors, our feet silent upon the marbled floor. "That, however, will come in a short while."
"So, it's time to get me my 'Evil pieces', I take it?" I scrunched up my nose.
As much as I was looking forward to receiving my own set of power-enhancing chess pieces—and not simply for Gabriel, though that remained the biggest motivator, but also to see what effect my system might have on these—I really wished there was an alternate name I could utter without cringing every time.
"Soon." Beelzebub replied, coming to a halt outside a simple, wooden door with a black plaque above announcing it as the Mayor's office. "First, we must register you as a High-Class Devil."
"Just like that?" I raised a brow. "I heard Gabriel had to earn her way up."
"You are a god." The Satan said simply. "Politics may have the greatest hold over a society, but those who are truly powerful will always have exceptions made. You possess an amount of raw Demonic Power that far surpasses any Satan-Class being. I doubt even the Great King Faction would dare raise their complaints too loudly."
I chose to wait outside as the Satan headed in and picked up a couple of forms. It was interesting to observe how human and mortal the process was. One might think Devils would have developed some unique way of registration by now; something involving a combination of burning lava, massive-orgies, and soul-eating contests perhaps, but no.
All it took was for Ajuka to quickly fill up the details—my name and such—before allowing me to give them a once-over. With that done, I quickly signed both the forms, sending one to my Inventory whilst the Satan held onto the other; and just like that, the Devil race had gained themselves a new High-Class member.
Of course, a couple of forms were not what gave them the power to ascend Tiers, so without delay, we were soon on our way back to the Entrance Hall, taking a spacious set of spiraling stairs to head towards the official Ceremonial Hall of Bael City. It was also the only place that was still guarded, even though the City Hall was supposed to be closed for the day, almost every soul being busy celebrating the Unity Festival.
"Normally a promotion is held only with a full ceremony." Ajuka explained along the way. "Gabriel's promotion to High-Class had been the most well-televised and attended promotion ceremony of this century. Yours, I assume, would've broken that record handily."
"Well, that's a shame." I snorted. "Nothing better than a crowd at your moment of glory."
And soon, the auspicious moment was upon us, as we stood beneath the front altar of the Ceremonial Hall.
With a flourish of his hand, the Satan whipped out a golden crown and motioned me to lower my head. "A mere formality, but its significance cannot be ignored."
Shrugging, I bowed slightly, letting the Beelzebub Lord crown me.
"With that, I announce you a King."
To my disappointment, I did not get to keep the crown.
"Now, for the main part," The Satan raised his hand in the air and pulled, and suddenly a massive pillar of Demonic Power materialized from thin air, pressing against my Authority like a living deity.
"Press your hand against its surface."
I kept my Domain firmly focused on the Satan to glean any ulterior motive, though whatever strange Authority the pillar possessed did not seem malicious. Nor was it particularly trying to overpower me, so I complied—albeit with some reluctance—carefully observing as the Demonic power surged forth against my palm.
"It shall officially register you as a King in the System, taking your power into account when creating pieces suited to you."
The mechanizations of the statue still escaped me, and it was just the sort of thing that might vex my thoughts for the next few days…at least, had there been a lack of distractions. It was the kind of magic I had never tried attempting, let alone have the slightest working theory behind how one could go about crafting a 'Species-Changing' device. What skills would I need to level up for that? What domain could enhance its strength?
All I could predict was that it held a limited Authority over Devils and was intrinsically linked with their soul. For me, that can in the form of a System prompt.
[Establish Soul-Bond with the Peerage System?] Yes/No
Fortunately, I had a ready-made teacher standing just beside me and I intended to squeeze the devil for all he was worth. It had taken me but a handful of mortal years to climb from the lowest of lows to likely the strongest Tier 8 in existence. As long-lived as I was, I had no doubt that one day, there would be no secrets this world could hide from me. My system was just too fucking overpowered.
'Yes.'
The surge of Authority-backed Demonic Power successfully flooded within me, coursing through my veins, intruding, assessing, and adjusting accordingly. To my surprise, I found that I could sort of manipulate its assessment and began responding actively, realizing my system was actually making the process as ideal as possible.
Just as sudden as its entry had been, the Power retreated. And deep within my soul, just inside the third well of energy that contained my Demonic Power, was now a newfound source of Authority.
[Soul-Bond established: Peerage System (Evil Pieces)]—
Queen:
Rook:
Mutated Rook:
Bishop:
Bishop:
Knight:
Knight:
Pawn:
Pawn:
Pawn:
Pawn:
Mutated Pawn:
Pawn:
Pawn:
Pawn:
The fifteen chess pieces listed beneath the notification seemed to delve in the forefront of my mind for a few seconds before swiftly retreating. Yet, I knew I could focus on them anytime to summon any piece in my grasp, no matter the distance.
Beside me, Ajuka approached with a small box in his arms. "Your pieces. Take good care of them. I do not advertise this often, but there are functions to them yet to be discovered by most of our people. I hope they serve you well."
"Thank you." I accepted took the neat case gingerly, tugging the lid open.
Inside sat fifteen glimmering chess pieces, radiating a golden warmth that encompassed the entire Ceremonial Hall for a brief second, before stabilizing in a dull golden glow. Of the fifteen pieces inside, two shone especially bright, specks of white and crimson intermixing around their edges…
"I see Tyche smiles upon you." Beelzebub said, peering over my shoulder. "One mutated piece is a rare occurrence, two may be enough to announce you the luckiest devil of the decade."
I tugged one piece up softly, hefting its weight in my palm. "What exactly are they?" I placed it back inside, shutting the lid close.
"A way for you to grow even stronger, I would assume." Without further fanfare, the Beelzebub lord turned around. "I shall explain to you the process of claiming or reincarnating a member into your Peerage." Pausing, he sent back a glance. "And then I shall exchange Gabriel for one of your free pieces."
I paid the Devil only half-a-mind, for most of my attention was taken by a far more important realization.
I already knew who the first member of my Peerage would be.
…Then my mind caught up to his words and I whipped my head around.
"Wait, what?"
"Unless, of course, you feel there is something more important that requires your attention?" The Satan asked dryly.
"No! I mean, now? You want to exchange pieces now? As in, right now?"
Beelzebub blinked. "I had assumed that would be your priority, but if you have a special occasion in mind, I shall bow to your wisdom."
I shook my head. "I thought you would keep her as bait until your curiosity with me is sated. How do you even know I'll keep my word?"
Beelzebub pursed his lips, looking the slightest bit miffed. "I am not in the habit of holding hostages, Mikael Gabrielson. As for you keeping your word…I suppose I must simply trust your pride, if not your integrity. Besides, while I have not known you for long, I do know you hunger for power over all else, save perhaps your mother. You will find very soon there is no one in this realm who could teach you of Devil magic as much as me."
With not a word longer, he resumed his walk. "Now, come. The day has not yet ended, and you owe me a portion of your time. Perhaps your first lesson will clear your doubts away."
Shaking my head with a chuckle, I placed my case of Evil Pieces into my inventory and followed after the Satan. There was a lot to be done, and a lot to be learned.
I had a feeling the coming days were about to get interesting.
----------------------------
And that's about it for this one! I know there wasn't much action, but I dearly hope you enjoyed, nonetheless.
This should've come like 4 months ago, but life just hasn't been on the right track for a long while. Anyway, I think the next chap should come on 5th, but if I do my disappearing act again, I promise to at least completely turn off further payments.
Let me know what you thought of the chap. Your comments and likes act as great motivator. Hope to see you very, very soon. Later!