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Chapter 37- A Visit to Hell

AN: Beta'd by Kaladin and Deathwish.

Sorry for the delay! I know a lot of people are quite understandably upset about this, but this would've come much sooner if it didn't drag to 33k words. Thats more than 4 regular chapters, making this by far my biggest one yet. Anyway, I'd promised a reunion, and here it is.

Enjoy!  

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For most, entering the Underworld was a thing to be dreaded, signifying the end of their journey amongst the living, and casting upon them the fear of a looming judgment.

For me, visiting Hell was becoming something of a regular occurrence—and dare I say it—not quite an unpleasant one, as I would’ve expected.

The morning following my Fleece retrieval quest saw me back within the gloomy halls of Hades' realm, gracing its darkened walls with my ever-divine presence. I hovered above the obsidian throne of the God of the Dead, looking over Hades’ shoulder as he explained the details of Hell's map to me.

"-And finally down here, from the long path leading away from my Palace, across the wild lands that separate our domains, you shall find your destination; the territory of Devils and Fallen Angels.” Hades explained lazily, before glancing up briefly, onyx eyes glittering like frozen tar, a subtle amusement glinting within their depths. “I must say, a child of Zeus entering the depths of Hell on his own violation does not occur every day—they usually don’t fare well. While the creatures down there are too weak to trouble a god, you might find yourself…lost. The entirety of the Underworld is as vast as Earth. Greater, even, considering there are no major water bodies, only land as far as eyes can see. Another reason why Poseidon never even thought about adding them to his Domain.”

The god folded the map, presenting it to me grandly. "The map should help some, but it is woefully inadequate in its accuracy. I would caution you to be wary but I suspect my warning will be wind to your ears. Your excitement is almost nauseous.”

That, I couldn't argue with. My heart simply refused to calm down, no matter what reassurances I whispered to it.

Then again, could I truly be blamed? An event I thought I had three more years to prepare for was now staring me right in the face. And no matter how much I may have looked forward to it, there was no denying the kernel of truth ringing within my inane, doubtful thoughts.

Shaking away another bout of anxiety, I gave the map a brief overview before stashing it away in the Inventory. “I believe I owe you one, Uncle. After I come back, I'll be open to doing some tiny favor for you." I paused, cocking my head. "As long as it's, you know, tiny."

Hades smirked, leaning back in his Throne. "I may have just a task in mind. Now shoo. I must remain reasonably disgruntled to face our accursed family. Never let it be said that I, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, actually enjoys 'family time'."

Snorting, I gave a mock salute to the Elder God, and with a flap of wings, disappeared down the door just summoned for me. I'd already said my farewells to those who mattered—though I would've liked to extend my terribly limited time with Hestia, and give a proper goodbye to Hera—and left ample instructions for the camp if Thalia woke up before my return. Now there was nothing to do but turn my focus to the next quest.

[Quest Received: A Devilish Alliance]

  • Recruit The Three Factions to the upcoming War

Reward: 

  • Two new Allies 
  • 5 Levels

Note: Only the strongest two required for quest completion.

A drastically diminished reward from what I would usually get for a quest this important, but nothing out of my expectations. My thirst for levels had been quenched a little since my ascension to True God anyway.

This quest, however, wasn't what made me so jittery today. It was something much more important. Something that I had been waiting for, for a long, long time.

It was time to traverse deeper into the lands of Hell. And reunite with my dear mother at last.

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Beyond the House of Hades lay the lands of Devils and Fallen Angels.

According to the map given to me by the resident expert, the Fallen faction occupied a large patch of the western grounds, most of which remained empty and desolate due to the laughably low population of the Black-Winged Angels. In fact, Hades suspected they barely crossed the hundred thousand mark, which was comparable to a little less than 1 percent of New York city’s population. The remaining territory was inhabited by Devils, and while their numbers had bloated well over the recent centuries, they were still far off from matching NY’s population.

It truly was comically shocking to realize that a piece of land larger than Asia was being inhabited by a mere couple million sentient souls. How they even survived as a society, I couldn’t comprehend.

Following the map’s instructions, I reached the trails leading to the Devilish borders in a scant few minutes. It was a jarring change of scenery, to go from the astronomical Fields of Asphodel to relatively normal lands, drenched under the darkness of a perfectly normal night sky.

My first thought—as I hovered in midair, gazing down on the dark lands stretching across my godly vision—was that it lacked red.

I’d wondered if the Devil territory might match the more classic descriptions of Hell; of fire and brimstone, of the pungent smell of ammonia and putrid sulfur infecting the air—but the sight that greeted me completely blew my expectations out of the water.

Luscious fields of land extended far and wide, brimming with life; vibrant and lively. Trees towered high below me, full of vitality, hiding the fauna under their green curtains that waved with the wind. I could still feel the baser desires to hunt and mate wafting out of the forest, so I knew there was no lack of wildlife in this particular patch of land.

The most shocking of all, however, had to be the bright full-moon smiling down at me from a sky of white clouds amidst the cool, gentle winds kissing my crown in welcome. I'd prepared myself beforehand to not see the face of the Sun and Moon for as long as my stay in Hell extended, but it was thankfully proven to be unnecessary.

For there it was, fixed into the firmament, a globe of imperfect white crystal, as ageless as ever.

'Made from Demonic Magic, most likely.' I absently mused, letting my eyes peer across the horizon. 'Unless the Devils have their own Moon God or Goddess here.'

Whatever the case, under its graceful radiance, the forest seemed to shine even more alive. Far less Hellish, that much was certain, lacking even the gloom that set the House of Hades apart.

The land of Devils was, for all meanings and purposes, normal.

Though I didn’t quite know if this area went deeper down the Underworld or rose up closer to the surface, for true to Hades’ words, my sense of direction was as lost as a scrambled signal deep in the depths of the Earth, helping me no more than a mortal human’s eyesight might. The winds that flowed through Hell were not under the Authority of Zeus, and they bothered to provide me with no assistance.

Thankfully, I didn't need my psuedo-omnipotent sense of direction to guide me through these fairly linear lands.

While its scenic beauty was appreciated, it wasn't why I was here in Hell. My goal rested in the distance, behind the gargantuan stone walls standing taller than a small mountain, and spanning hundreds of miles to either side—stretching on and on until even my godly eyesight couldn't decipher their presence. It was the first sight of civilization for me in an otherwise wild land, and it was astonishing in its magnitude.

Then again, it was a given that Devils should be able to produce such structures. Demonic Power was one hell of a shortcut.

With a sigh, I flapped my six mighty appendages and bounded for the great wall, zooming past high hills and deep slopes, the moon’s graceful rays casting my moving winged-shadow over the fields.

For a moment, the shock of all the sights had almost managed to silence the treacherous thoughts hounding my mind. Yet, the moment I restarted my journey—traversing deeper into the Devil territory—they all came rushing back in full force.

'Doubts and Insecurities' was a phase of life that I'd thought was behind me. Surely, with my wisdom as high as it was, I should've known better than to fall in the pit of uncertainties, should've known better than to stress about things I had no control over, should've known that the Gabriel I knew would never love me less, no matter how long the years pass.

And yet, I couldn't help but think to myself: what if she doesn't?

What if, the woman who'd dominated my thoughts for so long, no longer places me on the same pedestal that she once did? No longer loves me the way she once had? A part of me thought myself an absolute idiot for even daring to question her, remembering the sacrifices she’d made to keep me safe for the first eight years of my life.

Yet, how could I not?

It had been more than five years since we last saw each other. Five years of absolute separation. Five years in which I'd gone from a boy of no renown to a True God with a seat in Olympus. Five years where I grew from an 'innocent' child to a…well, a lustful, prideful god who no longer had the excuse of immaturity.

Would she expect me to act like a god now? To behave with dignity and stature befitting a Divine being? Would she think less of me if I stayed as clingy as I once was? Think less of me for the people I've killed? For the women I've fucked? The marriages I've shattered and the betrayals I've caused? For the countless sins and desires that even God acknowledged as disgusting and shameful?

Hell, would she even fucking recognize me anymore?

The doubts were many and no matter the reassurances, they stayed alive, occupying a small corner of my mind.

I, however, didn’t bother clearing them away, simply letting the painful thoughts gnaw at me—for while the doubts may be strong, my will was stronger still—and continued my journey to the top of the wall, flapping my wings to quickly gain altitude. That journey came to a quick end the moment I exercised a fraction of my true speed, scaling way past the wall's height to spy over the inside.

There I was, sitting on blankets of wild wind—over a thousand feet in the air—gazing upon my first Devilish city whilst towering high above its walls.

The immediate thing that screamed at me was its sheer size. Calling it a city was like comparing boulders to mountains—cut from the same cloth but drastically different in magnitude. If someone had told me I was looking at the area of an entire country, I wouldn't have cast too many doubts on them.

Fertile lands stretched past my eyesight like Fields of Asphodel—though, of course, with more life than the whole of Hades' realm bound together, and without being chock-full of people like squashed ants. The houses, whilst normal, were quite diverse in nature, ranging from modern mansions and japanese architecture—with tiled or thatched roofs—to archaic castles and wide towers that were built in an interesting clustered formation, all surrounding one massive castle far above the rest—sitting on an elevated hill—that surely belonged to the King, Chieftain, or whatever ruler this place had.

One thing common amongst all the architects, however, was how sparsely placed they were, leaving ample space between even the cheapest looking structure.

Space was a thing Devils had no lack of.

My gaze jumped to the next most eye-catching structure built in the city—a massive statue towering almost to the height of the walls, grandly showcasing a crowned man riding a one-humped camel that wore a matching crown. Six bowed figures surrounded him from all sides, blowing trumpets and clapping cymbals beneath him, heralding his presence to the world.

Even from dozens of miles away, I could read the words written on its gigantic nameplate that shone brightly under the moonlight—King Paimon, Third King of Hell.

‘The kings of Hell…’ I didn’t really know much about them, except for a few meager memories I retained of my old life, reading about the demons of Ars Goetia. 'Now that I think about it, the Devils seem to share quite a bit with the Lesser Key of Solomon.'

Not that I truly cared about them right now. I had only two true goals here, and understanding the Devil society wasn’t it.

Eventually, I tore my eyes away from the statue, giving a cursory glance to the wall beneath me.

Manned by warriors with bat-like wings, the wall had massive turret-like structures placed evenly upon their tops. Some of the creatures, dressed in matching uniforms with a unique red crest sewn into their shoulders, flapped leisurely through the air with no apparent vigilance. It was clear they expected no threat from beyond the wall; an understandable conclusion, considering the only thing existing at this side of their walled borders was vacant lands and deep forests.

The only viable threat would be from the wildlife, though I doubted any creature would be scaling this wall as easily as I had.

With a last glance over the city, I cast the Concealment spell on myself, hiding under a cloak of invisibility—simply to maintain my anonymity for a little while longer—until I had a basic understanding of exactly what I was getting into.

Then, I took off towards the ground in a blast of wind, observing one of the warriors sharing the same air as me.

Mariam Aziz

Race: Devil (Reincarnated)

Tier: 3 (Mid-Class Devil)

Level: 236

Snorting, I glided past the lot, absently wondering if the female Devil could survive my full-powered sneeze.

Soon, my feet were welcomed by solid ground as I landed inside the Devil city, perching atop a raised pedestal that was flying a flag with a similar crest as the devils above.

I let my gaze trail along my immediate surroundings, taking in the sight—the darkness of the night unable to hinder my vision—while my brain worked in overdrive to plan my next course of action.

Usually, for this kind of meeting, pantheons either sent their demigods on a quest, or were expected to announce their presence beforehand, not only to stop any misunderstandings from growing, but also because gods were forbidden from entering another’s domain—at least, not unless they wished war upon their head.

I didn't know if the Three Factions were considered a pantheon—Christianity was certainly not one in my old life—but I did know that they followed the same rules that tied the Olympians—even though they had no gods of their own—which was one of the reasons Gabriel hadn't been allowed to stay with me.

As a god of Olympus, not only would I have to ask their permission to enter, my visit would've most likely been made into an official event, with all the political weight something like this carries.

However, my unique circumstances gave me the great fortune of being an exception to this godly rule. And I planned to take full advantage of my exception to pursue my own motive in Hell.

What motive, one may ask? Why, to find out if Ajuka Beelzebub must be given the privilege of climbing to the top of my godly hit-list instantly. To find out if my mother was being held prisoner in Hell, or was mistreated in any way at all, so that I would know to start planning a way to raze the entire Devil species to ashes. And I did not want to give them a chance to hide the truth, thus the need to maintain my anonymity.

For while I may not have acted on my doubts and insecurities as much, the dread slowly building within me for Gabriel’s safety was far stronger a motivator.

‘So I enter their world like a stealthy spider, walking their streets with none the wiser, to find the truth about their world, and drench their lands with pain and hurt.’

Chuckling, I jumped down from the pedestal. “Maybe I should look into a Poetry domain. I’m much better at this than Apollo.”

Yet, for all my forced humor, the poisonous angst kept burning in my chest. I couldn't remember the last time I felt this kind of restlessness. Perhaps when I blew up before the Olympian assembly; but that had been a fleeting thing, a wild reaction to the fatigue and frustration of the moment.

This…this was much deeper. For the first time in a long, long while, I was uncertain. Uncertain of what I would see, what I would find, and how I would react to what I do find. Some of the more painful thoughts I tried to keep silent and buried; the fear of Gabriel moving on prime among them. What would I do if I found my angel in the arms of another man? With another family? Would I walk away? Erase them from existence?

Will I attack my own mother in rage?

I closed my eyes and breathed out.

There were things that I didn't know about myself yet—things that I didn't wish to know about, and hoped to never find out. Since the moment I'd stepped foot into this existence, I'd done my best to grow, facing down every challenge with an unrelenting attitude, and coming out stronger.

This was simply another challenge I must face and surpass, nothing more.

'I am Mikael Gabrielson, a god of Olympus. And I have never known…defeat.'

Nor shall I ever.

With my eyes set and my will firm, I took my first official step inside the city of Devils—or Kingdom, if the statue was to be believed—ready to embark upon my Hellish quest…only to find quite an unusual scene greeting me welcome.

The first was the fact that the city was teeming with people; a strange sight, I felt, for a place this big with a population so small. There was no denying that something was going on in this place.

People—Devils all—hustled through the streets corners and alleyways, hope and excitement clear on their faces. I felt my attention drawn to their wardrobes for a scant few seconds; while the clothes they wore were of diverse but normal nature—certainly nothing that would separate them from humans—the occasional overly-revealing attire of the females was worthy of my full attention. Especially some of the fuller, gravity-defying set of tits that bounced around like precious globes.

The only other thing of interest was the varied variety of crests sewn upon their shoulders, with the red ones clearly receiving more respect than others.

What felt even more unusual than the lively bunch, however, were the guards positioned at every corner and every street—sharing the same crest as the soldiers above.

'Alright then,' I shook my head, readying myself for a boring session of information-gathering. Usually this would've been far easier, but this time I was running under some very irritating constraints. 'First, a good disguise.'

Shrouded in invisibility, I willed the ever-present Mist to gather around me, expecting it to heed my command instantly…only to swallow the bitter pill of miserable failure.

'What…?'

My first step and I was already stumbling.

Frowning, I closed my eyes and reached out with my senses, sifting through the thick presence of Demonic Power to find the magical curtain that enveloped the world…

I found nothing.

There were traces of Mystiokinesis mingling in the air, but not a single whisper of Mist. And with my maxed out sensing skill, the chances of me simply missing its presence were next to nil…

Then it dawned on me, like a bucket of icy water washing through my rusty brain: I wasn't on Earth anymore. Well, not on the surface of Earth anyway. And there were no guarantees that Mist’s influence would extend to Hell.

'Fuck.' I scratched my brows, feeling a tad bit foolish. 'I'm gonna blame this on my angst. Stupid, good for nothing, completely unwanted angst, making me forget simple things.'

After another round of cursing and a new round of silent brainstorming for ideas, I came up with a plan straight out of the book of geniuses.

If there is no Mist in Hell…why not just create some?

'I am a God of Energy Creation, ain't I?'

It was worth a shot. Hell—hah!—it was worth multiple shots.

My mind made, I closed my eyes and touched upon the well of Divinity coursing through my being without preamble, exercising my Authority over the domain of Energy Creation. Having almost maxed out the levels in Mist manipulation and Sensing, I had an instinctive understanding of its working, enough for me to know exactly what I wanted.

With the feeling and nature of Mist fixed in my mind’s eye, I tapped into my creation Authority and flexed my power, willing it into existence.

"Be Made."

I felt it instantly; the exact moment the reality shifted—acclimatizing to my will, felt the grains of time trickling slowly as my Authority made its presence known, felt a new form of power taking form in front of me…

I knew I'd succeeded the moment a system message rang in my ears.

[Divine Domain Leveled Up] Lvl 4

But something was wrong.

Frowning, I opened my eyes, sensing the drop of Mist floating in midair, held together by strands of my authority and will.

There was something different about this Mist, I realized immediately. Something…lacking. A weight, a mystery, something greater—that made Mist more than a form of energy—was missing.

For a brief moment, I entertained the thought that it might be Hecate's divinity—while I was capable of recreating any god's energy or power, I couldn't replicate their unique Authority. But this theory rang false even in my own mind, especially considering Mist was never said to be created by Hecate, only governed and guarded.

There was another theory brewing in the back of my mind, but it felt too vague to be put in exact words. I'd always felt that the Mist was like the surface of an ocean, the very first layer of something much deeper.

The one I'd produced, however, gave no such foreboding. It was simply what I'd wanted Mist to be at this moment; a form of energy to help me disguise.

Grunting, I put the conundrum at the back of my mind. There were too many mysteries in this world for me to know everything; I hadn't even mastered my own Domains yet, there was no point in worrying about things that I had little control over.

My immediate goal achieved, I tracked back to my original plan. Manipulating the Mist in front of me, I gathered it around my body, willing it to show the viewers what they would want to see; a fellow devil.

With my disguise in place, I dropped the Concealment spell and trailed after the procession of devils, looking for a group to join in. The guards mustn't have seen my addition, for my sudden appearance went wholly unnoticed.

As I moved closer to the crowd, their chattering and laughter took my focus, hitting me as something strange; the giggling girls, the loud arguments, the friendly ribbing, it all seemed so awfully…mundane. I’d half expected the Devils to be similar to the citizens of Olympus, having some strange quirk of their own, but for the most part, they looked to be closer to humans than anything else.

The only difference, that I could feel, came in their desires. Humans were a complicated mess of emotions, a mixture of sins and virtues, a blend so overwhelming that I would consciously suppress my Authority sometimes. Devils, on the other hand, could all be sorted into seven main types; pride, greed, lust, envy, hunger, anger, or laziness. Of course, they weren't so basic as to not feel anything else besides these emotions, it was simply that their desires were largely influenced by one of these seven traits.

'The Seven deadly sins.' Another direct parallel to Christianity.

Not wishing to dally any longer, I put the tidbits in the back of my mind and quickened my steps. The closest group to me was a bunch of young Mid-Class Devils; judging by their posh attires and ‘Superior-than-thou’ stares, I was guessing they were nobility.

‘Perfect.’

Under the graceful twilight, I joined the devils like one of their own. ‘Now to interrogate them without giving myself away…’

Before I could think of an ice-breaker however, one of the devils turned to me; a tiny sneer fixed on his face.

I had to remind myself that I was here as a spy and an envoy, and obliterating one of their people because I didn’t like their face, while satisfying, could have some strong ramifications.

I almost blasted the devil apart anyway.

“Ahh, what do we have here then?" The sneering cretin sneered some more. "A lowly servant from a lesser family, wanting to join the group of elites. Did your master send you with presents, boy? Hoping we will take you in?"

I sighed. 'My first mostly-sane devil interaction and it had to be an asshole.'

Was this fate's way of saying…burn them to Hell?

Now, there were multiple ways I could go about this, but for some reason, the diplomatic one wasn't looking the most desirable currently.

'Pain and hurt, it is.'

It was where I truly excelled anyway.

Before I could think of a subtle way to turn him into a red spot on the road, the devil beside him put a hand on his shoulder, turning to me.

"Never saw you before." The young devil frowned, eyes flickering to my shoulder. "A Low-Class from the Zagreus family? You do know Low-Class aren't allowed to the festival, yes? Even if you manage to slither your way in using your family name, are you sure you have enough Paimonois to travel?"

Understanding none of their bullshit, I nonetheless smiled—having finally decided upon the way to make them remember how small an insect they truly were—and promptly activated the Blessing of Hades for the first time ever.

[Blessing of Hades: Touch of Dread]

An insidious aura wafted from my being in a small, controlled wave, invisible to all but me. Black like the blackest of charcoals, the mist-like vapor darkened the night around us even more, sucking every last drop of light for a brief moment of time.

I could see the mist affecting the devils in real-time; the terror slowly washing through their eyes, the panting breaths increasing, hands growing shaky…

[Touch of Dread: Grants user limited access to Hades' Authority over Phobikinesis, radiating a concentrated wave of Darkness that induces the greatest terrors within the target.

Note: Scales with Spirit]

‘Nice.’

The shadowy mist disappeared as soon as it had come, leaving behind two broken devils with wild, wide eyes, shaking in their boots like leafs under a heavy wind. I took great pleasure in seeing that the sneering one had a wet spot on his trousers.

The devils around us had turned to witness the spectacle, especially when my targets suddenly flopped down on their knees like wet noodles.

I winced slightly. 'Oof, maybe a bit too much.' I did want them to be sane of mind to answer my questions after all.

Normally I would've simply used Hypnosis over the bunch, making my job infinitely easier. But Demonic Magic was my least mastered ability, and I was currently in the midst of a race from which it had first originated. Not only was I woefully ignorant about the subject, using it on devils seemed foolish. Of course, my sheer raw power would've most likely shred through their innate resistances—or whatever mysterious defenses they may have conjured—but I didn't wish to take unnecessary risks when there were other options available.

Turning to my audience—many of whom were scanning me up and down, eyes musing in consideration—I gave a tiny bow, putting a smile on my face that I knew to be charming. "It seems my dear friends here aren't feeling so well. The excitement of the…festival must've gotten to them. I'm afraid we must take our leave early tonight. A very good evening to you all!"

None of them were fooled, but nobody tried interfering either. I would've thought at least the guards would burst into action, but all they did was smirk at the unconscious devils and let me haul their bodies away. Even the crowd quickly dispersed, moving on with their lives.

The devils as a people didn’t seem to be the most considerate.

Tugging them by the shoulders, I picked up the two young devils like pieces of cardboards, placing them on their feet. Neither had actually lost consciousness, so I could feel both of them stiffening in my hands—though I maintained a healthy distance from the wet-spotter, holding him with my arm fully extended—as they wobbled on their feet like drunk toddlers.

“P-please,” The sneer-less one whimpered, trying to raise a hand defensively. “Please, have mercy. I-I didn’t—”

I dug my fingers inside his shoulder blades to shut him up, and judging by the cringed wince it must’ve worked a little too well.

"Listen—" I started, pausing briefly to check his name. "Rosoba. Why don't we three fall back from the rest, hmm? I have some questions I need answered."

The whimper grew louder, though I doubted anyone really heard him, lost in the crowd’s chatters as they were. In comparison, the other one looked to be almost completely gone.

"T-they swarmed me…" He whispered with glazed eyes, the spot on his trouser getting wetter as he stared into the distance. "And I couldn't do anything…they bit my flesh…torn me apart piece by piece, and I just stood there…eaten alive…"

He gave another sob, folding his knees like a broken log, dangling in my grasp.

The moment a stronger smell of ammonia hit my nose, I dropped him on the road, backing away.

'I think I may have broken him…' I felt a tad bit bad for the guy, even more so when the devils behind us simply stepped over him to continue on their way, barely slowing to give him a contemptuous look.

Some even purposely kicked him in the balls.

'God, devils are a cruel lot.'

Still, their inaction worked out well for me, with no one even paying us any mind any longer.

Smirking, I glanced at the devil still wiggling in my grasp. "Guess there's just the two of us now."

He stilled, gulping. "I'll come. Please, I'll do anything you say! Anything at all!"

I smiled. "This festival. Tell me about it."

----------------------------

The morning light touched his face like the gentle caress of a lover, brightening his world up to one more new beginning. Even knowing the fabrication behind the light's nature, it was a comfort he'd grown used to.

With another great yawn, Zekram Bael gave his old bones a mighty stretch, lazing in his bed for a precious few minutes, struggling to fight the sin of sloth. It was a side of him that he'd never revealed to any soul, not even his first wife.

After all, he had a reputation to maintain, and a weakness to hide.

The key to success, he'd always felt, was punctuality.

Thousands of years he'd lived upon this world, experiencing things only a lucky few could hope to see. He was here when the true Satans—greatest of their names—were still ruling upon the devil kind with an iron fist. He was here when the greatest war in existence was unleashed upon Heaven and Hell, felling the First Satans and claiming millions of devils. And though it had pained him, he was here to cast down the descendants of the Great Satans when they'd strayed from their paths.

In all these long years, one thing he'd always feared...was laziness; sloth, the sin he was born in, hounding his steps since the day he first learned to cry. Sloth, the greatest of his weaknesses, tempting him to enjoy comfort in its entirety. To give up hard work—for what use was it?—and to simply live to laze.

And if you give in to sloth, for even once in your life? It becomes the author of inconsistency.

One missed day and your mind begins to come up with ways to excuse away your mishap. And eventually, that one day turns to a week, a week to a month, and then a month to more. Before you know it, you fall into the pit of inconsistency and laziness.

And the failures begin.

Zekram Bael was not a failure.

He'd learned early in his life; the key to success for a devil, was to not give into their temptations, and to never let any being know the sin that tempts them so. And thus the cover of pride became his armor. So he let all know; here was Zekram Bael, the prideful King of Hell. And he was most certainly not lazy.

Punctuality was his key to success. And diligence was the door to that key.

Zekram sighed, pushing himself up as his daily ritual—where he reminded himself exactly why he was withstanding such torture—was finished.

Yawning again, he absently pulled out a piece of paper from below his pillow; his daily schedule, written in a neat and tidy list. The title of it, written by his own hands, said, 'A perfect way to motivate you for the day ahead!'

'No, it's not.' Zekram sighed again.

Scanning the list with a critical gaze—the first task of the day being a meeting with his son—he pushed himself up with a last sigh, ready to start the day with the same surly face he'd maintained for centuries.

---------------

The Bael castle wasn't the most enormous, nor the grandest in existence, but it was still easy to get lost in its numerous corridors and hidden chambers.

Not for Zekram Bael.

He traversed through the Castle effortlessly, intimately familiar with the corridors—a given really, after having lived in it for a thousand years—absently nodding to the greetings and bows of his servants as he made his way to his son's solar; the office of the current Lord Bael.

Two of his son's pawns stood guard outside the door, bowing deep upon his arrival.

They were competent for what they did, but Zekram himself had never seen fit to raise pawns simply for guard duties. If you do not surround yourself with people who can challenge your intelligence, then you do your mind a great disservice by never letting it grow. His son, unfortunately, had never learned that aspect of life.

With a mean grunt, he passed by the pawns and twisted the door open, entering without permission.

The day Zekram Bael had to ask permission inside his own home was the day the stars would fall from the sky and land straight into Hell.

The solar of Lord Bael—or the Great Chamber as many liked to call it—was a room made with wealth and royalty in mind. Lightly lit and well-cushioned, it was a room that would’ve surely tempted the deepest parts of him to give in and lie down.

Zekram hated it.

He quickly turned his attention away, towards the three men who already occupied the room, chattering amongst themselves, having not registered his presence yet.

"There have been killings in the southern territory, some of our workers in the Black Gold mines reported being assaulted." His son’s bishop spoke, rigid as ever. "A Mid-Class described the sighting of a large beast in the forest areas, linking to the recent attacks. They request immediate assistance."

The current Lord Bael cocked his head, apathetic eyes slowly twisting into an ugly sneer. "Lash the one asking. If they can't exterminate a simple beast then we have no need for them."

Zekram suppressed a sigh.

Belgarath Bael was everything people thought Zekram to be; prideful, arrogant, capable of great amounts of jealousy...and woefully incompetent. Well, people had never thought of Zekram as incompetent, that one was simply the first of the many shortcomings his son unfortunately had.

Not having a second, more competent heir had always been the greatest of his regrets.

Deciding to end his son’s foolishness—for the trillionth time in his life—Zekram stepped forth. "That won't be needed, I'm sure."

The three men straightened up, quickly turning around, before promptly bowing down the moment their eyes landed on him.

The others may think Belgarath to be the true Lord of the clan, but his son and peerage knew exactly who ran things here.

"Father." Belgarath straightened up, trying not to look chastised. "I didn't wish to trouble you with these useless complaints. There's been other important developments that need your attention, especially one concerning our...secret dealings."

His son gave him a significant look.

Zekram suppressed the insult bubbling on his lips by turning to the bishop. "The southern territory…it wouldn’t happen to be the one under Baronetess Malcolm, would it?”

The bishop jerked his head in a tight nod.

“Send a communication circle to her castle. I want the case dealt with by the end of the day.”

“Begging your pardon, my lord?” The last person in the room, Belgarath’s queen, raised his hand. Zekram waved him to go on. “If I’m not mistaken, the Baronetess arrived in the city just earlier today. Shall I ask her to go back?”

He paused, weighing the trouble such an insult might bring, before reluctantly acknowledging the obvious answer. “No. Simply send a pawn with a missive and inform her to take care of the situation."

The Queen and Bishop bowed once more.

"You may leave." Zekram waved at the door.

They didn't even look at his son, accepting his command immediately.

Finally releasing the long-held sigh, he gave the luxurious, cushioned chairs a stink eye of the ages before taking a seat on his regular one—the most basic of wooden chairs, standing out like a peasant amongst royals when compared to the rest of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind him, he once again turned to Lord Bael, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, but of course." His son gave a nod of great importance. "You may want to see this.”

Fetching through the papers on his desk, he fished out an already-opened letter, marked with a symbol of 12 black wings that burnt with white fire; the crest of Gabriel the Fallen, chosen upon her promotion to High-class—something Zekram had protested the most vehemently.

“We received a letter from the halfbreed.” His son spat with ugly venom, as was usual whenever it came to anything concerning Hell’s latest Ultimate devil. “A usual 'Holier-Than-Thou' letter. Not that the disgraced insect could write anything better. I should’ve stopped expecting it by now.”

Not for the first time did Zekram consider bashing his son’s face in a cauldron of Holy Fire. He understood not taking rejection well—especially the public kind—he really did, but if he had to hear one more time about why the Fallen Bird didn’t deserve his son’s courtship anyway, there would be some harsh words echoing through this chamber.

His thoughts must’ve shown on his face, for Belgarath hurried to move on. “She arrived yesterday evening, along with her couple of strays, settling in the apartment you’d arranged for them. Umm…yes, well, that’s about it.”

Zekram closed his eyes, counted to three, and with great patience, opened them again to focus on his son, fixing a gentle smile on his face. “If I may now have the letter?”

“Ah! Of course.” Chuckling bashfully, his lout of a son did his first good task of the day—handing the letter over.

Zekram let the other tasks fade away in the background, focusing on the piece of parchment completely.

Pure-blood Gabriel the Fallen may not be, powerful she certainly was; both politically and martially. While Zekram strived to keep their society clean of diluted blood, he had nothing but respect for the life the Archangel turned Fallen turned Devil had led till now. At any other time, he would’ve looked for a way to tie her to his family, but right now…now he needed to treat her like the threat she was.

…Plus, even he couldn’t think of a way to willingly make her join the Bael clan after her explosive—and very painful—rejection of his son. That alone had almost entirely convinced him that there was someone else in her life, his first guess being Ajuka Astaroth, the fake Beelzebub, but her current goals didn’t quite line up with that.

Either way, she wasn't willing to join them, and that made her dangerous. Coupled with the knowledge she held currently? She was a threat the likes of which he'd faced only a handful of times in his life.

Zekram needed the deal between them to succeed. If he couldn’t have her as a wife or a daughter-in-law, he would have her as a temporary ally—at least until his plans succeeded; it was the only way for him to secure the power he'd been hoarding for such a long time. The only way for him to keep maintaining the status quo of their world intact.

Unfortunately, that looked to be getting harder and harder everyday.

For as he read through Gabriel's letter, he felt his brows furrowing further, irritation and dread welling up within him. The woman was growing too impertinent. She held a leash around his throat, and she couldn't help but wag it around to establish dominance. The reminder of the past was not a good one, bringing back memories of the failed attempts he'd made on the Belial girl's life—his biggest failure of the last century.

But now, it simply reiterated the fact. 'I cannot trust Gabriel.'

That much has always been clear but he knew now that their temporary alliance would be shorter than he’d been expecting. One of them would have to give, sooner or later.

If he'd learnt something in his long years of life, it was that letting someone hold a leash around you was the swiftest and surest way to a brutal demise. He would know, considering how many people danced to his own strings.

'I need to deal with her.' As soon as possible.

He had his plans of course. The two pawns were arranged well to take advantage of the deal between them. She had grown overconfident, her recent successes going to her head. She'd forgotten that they were playing in his field. He wasn't a Rating Games champion, Politics was where he excelled at.

She may hold a major advantage over him, but he was Zekram Bael. None more cunning had ever been born within their entire race.

And once she lost, once her overconfidence came back to bite her in the wings, he would be there to strangle her neck in oaths so heavy she would voluntarily enslave herself, or risk tightening the noose.

And if he failed? Well, it wasn't too big a loss. Sure, the Great King Faction will have a new ruler, but he didn't mind it as much as others might believe. After all, while indirectly, Gabriel was working towards the same goal as him.

He'd long since predicted that his grasp over the Underworld would sooner or later loosen. The four Satans had managed to gather too much power and influence to be mere poster boys for long.

The day they finally manage to successfully suppress him would be the day his life's one true purpose would fall completely; the preservation of Devil aristocracy. It would mark the day when their society finally starts to rot into mediocrity, when there is no difference between a pure-blood devil—descended from the first of their race—and a half-breed reincarnation that uses a chess piece to imitate devils.

Eventually, their race would one day forget what gave them their identity entirely. Their noble history would be nothing but a fiction, meant to be enjoyed by half-breed children.

That bleak a future shouldn't be allowed to exist. And Zekram Bael would do everything in his power to keep their home a noble place for another day longer.

Gabriel, he believed, was the key to success; and while he would love to be the one leading their race, he wouldn't struggle too much if it had to be under her. He may not accept her blood, but her power had earned his respect in spades.

As long as she worked towards the same goal: suppressing the authority of the four Satans.

‘Mayhap we will start another civil war.’

And if Gabriel manages to unite the Three faction, she was free to act as its ruler, as long as he could govern over the Devils in her name, lead his Clan and his loyal retainers under her shadow, once again acting for the betterment of their society.

With a smile, he let the letter drop, ready to start the preparations for the upcoming festival. He had a feeling that this event would be the one where everything comes to a head; where the future of the Three Factions would be decided.

Either way, it was only a matter of time before the Great King Faction rose higher than ever again.

For some reason, Zekram Bael was looking forward to the carnage about to follow.

----------------------------

Under the artificial night sky of Hell, my new devil buddy and I made our way to the massive mausoleum-like structure rising above the earth in the distance—the final destination point where all the crowds gathered for the festival’s proceedings.

‘The Great Unity festival,’ was what Rosoba called it, arranged by their new hero and head of Foreign affairs: Gabriel Arkhangelsk.

It still felt strange to think of my mother as some famous, influential celebrity in Hell, whose voice was heard in every corner of every city. Even more so to realize she was a popular point of conversation amongst the devils, and not many had actual bad things to say about her; I’d been ready to smash a couple more devilish faces at the first hint of any perversity or disrespect, but my services seemed to be wholly unneeded here.

Even the devils whose desires were inspired by lust made sure not to speak ill of her, and those who did so were quickly…educated against it by her fans. Of course, being the god of desire, I could easily fish out the lust and arousal from the silent ones; quite a few devils that day received a mysterious punch in their balls by the invisible fist of god, confusing and terrorizing many.

Every now and then I would hear someone gushing about Gabriel’s numerous feats and achievements, of how fiercely she’d fought in the Great War, of the new records she’d set in this  ‘Rating games’, of how blessed they were to have her in their faction, and of the better days that would soon be upon them—when the Three Factions were one again, with the Devils leading the alliance—and I just couldn’t help but frown to myself, wondering if I really knew my mother as well as I thought I did.

It shouldn’t have surprised me really; I’d always known how powerful a warrior she truly was—though I still wouldn’t describe her as ‘brutal’ or ‘cruel’—and I’d known that she had lived a long life before conceiving me—she was the bloody Gabriel of the Bible!—a life that spanned several millennia.

And yet, to hear of her like this, from the mouths of strangers, still took me by surprise. A part of me—and a very large part at that—still thought of her as my loving, innocent mother, who would blush at the smallest mention of anything sexual; the same woman who’d been absolutely zealous in her love for me, giving her entire soul and body for my well being. To hear of her as a warrior fighting in tournaments, and as a politician governing the devil society, was playing havoc on my image of her.

Of course, all of this still didn't fully convince me that she was happy here, or even by her own volition. I was hearing the opinions of a crowd made-up by Mid-class devils, the second lowest rung of the devil society. For all I knew Ajuka and his thugs could've simply fooled the peasant-class by spreading misinformation, or forcing her into this role without her consent.

Until I knew better, the mission to save my angel was still a go.

A cough from beside me broke me out of my reverie. Raising my brows, I turned to the devil.

"Pardon me for my assumption, my lord." The devil bowed three times in quick succession. "But…uhh…you're a High-Class, are you not?"

"No." I snorted, absently glancing around my new surroundings. "'High-Class' is entirely deficient to describe the current state of my power. But never you mind."

The city of devils was a clean place, I had to give them that. Their streets were trash-free, and I couldn’t see any stray pets shitting around. They didn't use vehicles to travel, nor did they have large factories in abundance, so pollution wasn't a thing here either. All in all, with air fresher than a new born baby, it felt like an absolute upgrade over New York.

I still wanted to get away from this place as soon as I could.

Beside me, the devil seemed to be choking on a bit of that same fresh air, silent words escaping his throat as his eyes bulged out of their widened sockets.

"Speak," I commanded, rolling my eyes. "I believe you were about to make a point."

"Yes, well.." He coughed, before suddenly bowing deep. "Speaking to an Ultimate-class devil is an honor I never had before. If any of my words gave insult to my lord, please know that they were completely unintended and spoken out of ignorance. I shall let all know that your grace and mercy towers high above any mountains, and your powers are limitless and pe—"

"Enough." I waved a hand, shushing him. "Act normally and answer my questions, and you might just get through this alive. That is all I need from you. Now speak."

"Well," He hesitated, slowly straightening up. "I am only making a baseless assumption from my lord's prior questions…but..uhh, is my lord aware that this Teleportation circle is only intended for Middle-class devils?"

I blinked. "'Teleportation circle'?"

“Uhh…yes?” Rosoba blinked in confusion, before false realization suddenly flashed in his eyes. "Oh, of course! You may not be aware about this either—which is completely understandable of course, Paimon city can be a confusing place—but the large building where all the crowd is currently gathering contains a Teleportation Circle, meant to lead us to the Bael territory. However, this was arranged only for the Mid-Class—”

“Wait a hot-damn second now,” I held up a finger, frowning at the new surprise. “Why exactly are we going to this Bael territory again?”

The devil looked stumped, terror and confusion warring in his eyes. “That…is where you asked me to lead you? To the Festival?” At my silence, he quickly bowed down again. “I truly apologize if that is not what you wished for! Please, merciful lord, I have a family waiting for me! A wife and two kids who don’t have anyone els—”

“Shut up for a second.” I sighed, sealing his mouth with threads of air.

Teleportation wasn't something that I was unfamiliar with. Sure, it wasn't currently in my pocket of skills, with Lightning Travel coming the closest to it—though it simply allowed me to travel through a conductive path, instead of tearing through space and time—but I did know that all the Olympian gods could teleport at will using their divinity.

Group Teleportation, however, I had never encountered yet. I could guess what it did of course, and now that I knew to look, I could see its presence in the city, the most obvious one being a second mausoleum-like building in the distance, similar to the one we were headed in.

"Does that one contain a Teleportation Circle as well?" I pointed at the distance, unsealing his mouth.

The devil stretched his head uselessly, squinting his eyes in bewilderment. "I cannot see clearly from here, but there is one in that direction, yes. Reserved for travelers that wish to enter our city." Growing uncertain, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "I…thought that was the one you entered through as well, my lord?" Then he slapped his forehead exaggeratedly right after. "But of course! That was a foolish mistake of mine! Obviously Ultimate-Class devils must have some other secret way that I obviously have no idea about."

The pathetic devil gave an uneasy chuckle, rubbing his head.

Frowning, I ignored the clown, peering around me carefully—there was not a single person below or above Mid-class in my eyesight. We were inside an air bubble so I wasn't worried about our conversation entering the wrong ears. But I was worried about entering a foreign piece of magic without any prior knowledge. What if this Teleportation Circle unraveled completely because it couldn't handle someone of my level?

"This…Teleportation Circle. Can anyone use it regardless of their status?"

The devil blinked. "Well…if they wish to, yes. But you wouldn't catch a High-Class devil sharing the same space as 'us'." There was genuine bitterness in his voice as he said so.

"If my lord doesn't mind me saying so, you are quite..ah, unique amongst your peers. You already do me a great honor by actually speaking to me, let alone letting me answer your questions. Had it been Lord Paimon in your place, I have no doubt I would've been a rotting pile of ashes on some street corner."

He seemed to become aware of his words, for his face paled into pure white the next moment, terror gauging the depths of his eyes. "And he'd be completely in his rights to do so, of course! I never meant to reach above my station, my lord. I beg your utmost forgiveness. I only brought this up because I thought you wouldn't wish to travel cramped up with a bunch of Mid-classes either."

"You thought wrong." I snorted. "I very much do wish to use this Circle. And should you pay for my travels, I will owe you a favor—a reasonable one, of course."

"I…you, fav—huh!?" He stuttered his confusion in words, seeming to lose the last of his wits.

"A favor, yes." I nodded slowly, flexing my Authority to suppress the chaos of shock and disbelief pulping in his mind.

"You…are you sure, my lord?" He asked, back to sanity. "Not that I'm one to question your judgment, but I would've paid for you regardless, if that is what you wish. Now that I think about it, it's obvious from your attire that you're on a secret mission. I'm blessed to help in any way I can!”

"I'm sure." I tilted my head, gazing at him with half-lidded eyes as I ignored his ramblings. "I'm a…devil of my word after all."

The wide-eyed devil flopped about like a dying fish, struggling to get a word out, before letting loose a small, incredulous laugh. "This is the best day of my life! You can be sure I won't abuse your generosity, my lord. Like say…asking for a place in your peerage?" He eyed me with raised brows, before awkwardly scratching his head at my deadpanned silence. "Haha! Of course not. That would be outrageous. I can't even get in a High-Class peerage, let alone be of use to someone of your stature."

“Hmm,” I wrinkled my nose, glancing at him in distaste. “How about you start by explaining to me this…’Peerage’ thing?"

The look of utter and exaggerated shock on his face was worthy of an Oscar.

----------------

Contrary to my apprehensions, everything went according to the plan.

We reached the Teleportation room—or the Transportation Centre as Rosoba titled—in record time, stepping foot in a wide but flat domed-room, with a small office at the front to register your names. I once again took the fake identity of Michael Gabson for the night, manipulating the mist to be seen as a Mid-class devil.

Things went smoothly as my new devil henchman paid for the both of us, though judging by the wince on his face it was obviously not cheap. Unfortunately, there was no way in Hell that devils didn’t take precaution against fake money made of Demonic power, which had always been my go-to for scamming people.

I elevated my self-made limit of an ‘extremely tiny’ favor to a ‘moderately tiny’ favor for the devil. Though a moderately tiny favor of a god could easily be an unimaginably, impossibly large favor for a Mid-class devil. I just hoped, for his sake, that he would ask for something better than a pile of money.

'Maybe I'll get to use my Authority to grant blessings for the first time.' I mused absently as we stood in a long line, awaiting our turn.

My devilish friend was engaged in conversation with another Mid-class, and after getting bored of perving on the half-dressed female Devils, I let my gaze wander around the domed chamber.

The dark chamber walls were decorated with statues and paintings of their species in various forms of combat. One of the statues even depicted a battle against the Heavens, the title of it reading 'The Great War', with a 12-winged creature whose name plate read Lucifer Morningstar, leading a batch of lesser-winged devils through the air, charging towards the angels.

A flash of light at the corner of my vision quickly retook my attention, and I turned to witness another set of devils disappearing from the chamber.

Our turn came soon after, and I walked forth to the center of the room along with 40 other Devils, entering a large scripted circle drawn on the floor. The scripted circle contained multiple spheres within it, with the central sphere being completely identical to the red crest that I’d spied on the shoulders of those flying guards, only enlarged to a gigantic degree, covering a large part of the Circle.

A yell of ‘Transportation Circle ready!’ came from the elevated platform at the front, and our circle began glowing crimson. I glanced down to see the outer spheres of the crest slowly starting to spin around us, a sound akin to a jet engine revving up spreading across the room.

Then, with a last roar, the crimson glow flashed throughout the circle and I could feel the space cracking apart. The authority behind the space-tear was barely worth acknowledging however, and I knew I could shut the entire thing down with a simple flex of my will.

Yet, I granted the magic of the Circle permission to wash over me, and let my body disappear down the space-tear.

------------------

As I laid my feet in the city of Bael, the first thing to greet me was a bright light straight to the face—sudden and strong, hitting with all the intensity of the Sun's glare.

“Move over! All you people, move over!”

It was a jarring change to be sure; leaving the relatively peaceful night of Paimon city for a loud and chaotic afternoon, squashed between dozens of devils who stumbled around under the surprisingly powerful blaze of the yellow globe fixed between the clouds.

“I said get moving! Make way for the next batch!” The hollering from above finally made it to my ears, making me glance up at the speaker.

On a raised platform, standing high above our heads, perched a devil dressed in the most flamboyant piece of clothing I’d ever witnessed. Built like a mouse in a joker costume, he was the first ugly devil that I’d laid my eyes upon since entering Hell.

Serez Balthazar

Race: Devil

Tier: 4 (High-Class Devil)

Level: 301

Ignoring the eyesore, I glanced beyond the creature to take my first look at my second devil city. And my verdict was…

'…It's alright.'

From all the gushing my devil henchman had been blubbering over the place, I'd half expected a second Olympus to pop-up in front of me. While it was still an upgrade over a human city, the Bael capital was no paradise, being far from matching the beauty of the home of gods.

Even so, I was still left feeling slightly dazed as I gazed upon it. Not by its looks or its grandeur, but by the fact that I was finally at my destination.

This was the city where the famous devil Festival was supposed to be held, organized by the one I'd been chasing after all this while. This was the city that held answers to all my doubts and questions, all my fears and excitement, everything bundled in a single package.

I was sharing the same city as Gabriel. My mother was a single flap of wings away from me.

A part of me couldn’t help but imagine a happy reunion; to be welcomed by my angel with open arms, whilst I regale her with tales of my adventures and achievements. Not only would I have finally revived my sister, but I would also be reuniting with my mother in less than a week’s worth of time. My little family would finally be whole.

I could already see myself introducing Gabriel to the Greek side—mainly just Hestia and Thalia—and watch my two worlds finally combining together. And eventually, when the things were calmer and this war was over, I would be ready to take on the world and tackle my ambitions with my dear little family by my side.

It was a nice dream.

Sadly, the dream was broken midway by the sudden arrival of the eyesore from above, his snarling face screeching at me like a baby mongoose as he jumped down, landing straight in front of me.

"I said get moving!" He hollered in my face, a finger coming to poke me in the stomach, prodding me to move. "Are you deaf!? Need to visit the hospital!? Get fucking moving!"

Irritation seeped within my chest, though I held myself from blasting him apart.

The devils around me were already being herded out of the open plaza we'd been transported to, guards dressed in matching uniforms surrounding the place, with a purple crest—three flowers stemming from the same branch—sewn into their chest.

Frowning, I pushed the ugly devil and his offending finger off of me, and started following after them, looking around for my hired guide.

"Oh no, no, no." My prodder gave a chuckle every bit as ugly as he was, coming right back to stare me in the face. "You don't get to walk away with touching me like that, you Mid-class scum. Do you even know who I am?" He glared around me, now barking at everyone present in the plaza. "I'm Serez Balthazar! My blood is as pure as they come! And you, a mere peasant, dare disrespect me? Think your family's gonna protect you? News flash, half-breed, your family ain't worth a nickel in Bael—"

Before his words could ruin my already sullen mood, I waved a hand in front of me, launching a lone Holy spear at the irritating insect—adjusted to the weakest form possible of course, I didn’t actually want to destroy an entire part of this city on my first visit.

Unsurprisingly, the devil was blown apart in an instant, turning into a shower of blood and gore mid-rant.

I quickly formed a shield of air in front of me to keep my nose and clothes clean of the red liquid and its metallic smell, though I need not have bothered. For under the presence of my power, his entire body, including every drop of blood and ruptured organs, vaporized into thin air—sizzling away like cold water on a hot pan—leaving only a few burnt pieces of his yellow and green suit. Even the devils around my vicinity seemed affected, most already rolling on the ground, moaning and groaning.

'Ahh…Holy Power.’ The most famous weakness of Devils, and apparently a perfect weapon for exterminating insects in Hell. Clean and efficient.

One moment a crazy clown was yelling at the top of his voice in the middle of a crowded plaza, the next he’d disappeared away in a sizzling puff of red mist.

Thus was life, as meaningful or meaningless as you make it.

All the devils around me that weren’t already on the ground came to a dramatic stop, wide eyes pinned at me like the main character I was. I kept expecting one of them to suddenly raise a hand and holler for my blood, but all they did was stare and cower with utterly disbelieving eyes that soon turned to fear and terror. Even the guards looked to be under an area-effect spell of induced despairing shock, smoke rising from their shirts like they were about to combust.

‘Well, time to dip.’ That was more excitement than I’d originally wanted.

Patting my wrinkled clothes with the back of my hand, I readied myself for a long and complete survey of the city; this was where the main course of the action was about to take place, and I wanted to at least know the general layout of the place.

The moment I finally spotted my guide, I made my way through piles of devils with a budding impatience. Those who weren’t already lolling on the ground—holding their chest or face—quickly scrambled away as if running from an actual monster.

"You." I beckoned Rosoba over. "Come, we're leaving."

My henchman wasn't an exception to the shock of the sudden death, nor the aftereffect of Holy power, but he still dutifully followed after me like a loyal hound.

None tried to stop us as we left the plaza, joining the rest of the city.

"M-my lord," Rosoba finally spoke, whispering with hunched shoulders as he peeked at me through the corner of his eyes. "W-was that Holy Power? It..it burns. I could feel it unmaking me.” He shuddered, pain flashing on his visage before he suddenly straightened up. “I mean, never mind! Your great powers are certainly above my comprehension. It doesn’t matter now either way. Though I must ask you this, my lord…you know the devil you killed was a High-Class from the Bael clan, yes?"

I grunted, feeling my impatience growing stronger by the second. I was finally at my destination, finally at the last step of my quest, and for some unknown reason—which wasn't unknown at all—that was making me angsty again.

"Well…I must say you certainly do not lack for courage, my lord. Ultimate-class or not, the Bael clan would surely respond to such blatant killings."

"Let me worry about that. You, guide me through this city."

We were walking down a lightly crowded street that seemed to be unaware of the scene we'd just left behind. Both sides of the street were fixed with shops and services; some common to earth, and some completely unique to the devils. I carefully scanned every shop in sight, observing a couple of High-Class devils that were surrounded by what I assumed was their Peerage.

"I…I’m afraid to say I won't be much help here, good lord.” Rosoba bowed deeply beside me, forcibly suppressing a hiss of pain. “This…well, it's my first time in Bael city as well."

A lie.

I glanced at him, but the devil kept his head down, refusing to meet my eyes.

I could feel his terror and unease quickly growing, but all of it was overshadowed by his blaring desire to get away from me as fast as he possibly could.

It could be that he feared the fury of Baels extending towards him, or simply that he had some plans of his own in the city, but what I truly left had inspired his desire of escape was my use of Holy Power, which seemed to have rattled him considerably.

Shame. I was actually going to reward him generously for his service. Still, it was an understandable worry so I didn't bother correcting him.

Sighing, I cast my gaze across the city; it was a big place certainly, with tall buildings and mansions aplenty, though its main feature was definitely the heavily fortified castle in the distance, its high towers peeking at me from above the clouds.

Had I still been capable of reading the winds, my job of navigating through the city would've been infinitely easier.

I could still try to press my Divine Authority over the sky, and most likely succeed in traversing through the city quickly, though it would still take longer than normal.

Turning to Rosoba, I voiced the question that mattered to me the most, "You do not know where Gabriel might be then?"

"Purgatory's depths, no!" He exclaimed. "I doubt I would've known so even had I been a High-class. You would have to ask Lord Bael for that, I'm afraid."

That one was true, unfortunately. Then again, had I sensed a lie, he wouldn't have been standing still.

I frowned, wondering about a different tactic. While I was terribly bored with my current limited status, I wanted to keep my presence a secret for a while longer, and breaking into the Bael castle lowered the chances of that happening. "You said the Satans would be present for the Festival? And that includes Gabriel herself?"

"Well, Lady Gabriel isn't officially a Satan, but she would surely be present for such a huge event."

"Hmm." I tapped my chin, a plan quickly brewing in my head. "Can you identify the crest of all the Satans?"

"Of course! That is the first thing we learn in the School!"

"Very well. Describe the crests to me, and consider your service to be complete."

Five minutes later, with the Concealment spell back in the business, I unfurled my wings and flapped away towards the sky, in search of a Satan to impersonate.

----------------------------

Life had a funny way of repaying debts.

The unfairness of their existence wasn't a mystery to Kuroka. She'd grown up a slave, bonded to a master who wanted nothing more than to tie her down on a table and run his twisted experiments. The pain, the agony of every breathing second, the helplessness of not knowing if she'd even survive their next session...she'd suffered through it all without a word of complaint. And she would've happily continued to do so as long as her sister stayed safe.

However, the moment his twisted little eyes fell upon the one who mattered the most to her, his fate was sealed. She knew what had to be done.

And she didn't regret killing the piece of shit one bit.

The painful part however, came after the deed was done. Forced on a run for protecting her own sister, knowing the racist world of devils would never let such a deed go unpunished, knowing her sister probably blamed her for everything that's gone wrong with their life since the moment their parents died...now that had been painful. She wasn't even surprised at being named the most wanted criminal in Hell.

Then her King entered her life, and Kuroka was repaid for every bit of anguish and torment her life had put her through. Gabriel The Fallen was a cyclone of pure justice and fairness, a fierce tornado of power, grace, and beauty that swept through the Three Factions like a raging tempest, forcing them in a new direction. One by one she tackled every problem within the Devil world—some so deeply rooted that they extended to the beginning of their species—tearing open the pure-blood supremacy of their society like an open wound waiting to be salted. And Kuroka rejoiced.

Fast forward just a few years, and now she walked through the streets of the Bael clan—the most uptight of the devils—with all the arrogance of a Nekoshou, unafraid of the opinions of her lessers. She could feel the many eyes scanning her up and down, hunger and lust igniting within their depths, and she soaked it all in like a prideful cat, smirking and teasing them with what they could never have.

‘This…this is the life I deserve.’

She was in the Peerage of one of the strongest devils, in a position of great power and authority...but most important of all, her sister now saw her as the hero she always was.

Honestly, being captured by Gabriel had been the luckiest thing to ever happen to her. So what if she had to serve another king? At least this one was of her choosing. And if there was one being worth following in this world, it was Gabriel Arkhangelsk. Kuroka didn’t even wish to imagine where she would be, if not for the mercy of her new King.

Her only worry came from the fact that her King herself belonged to a Satan’s Peerage. One of the four who’d passed the false judgment upon her and nearly let her sister be executed. Still, if all went to plan, her King would soon unite the Three Factions and preside over its rulings. Not that she should have to.

Kuroka truly did feel the Three Factions didn't deserve her King. The Devils didn't deserve her King. Gabriel should've been living as a queen, ruling over a peaceful kingdom and governing a grateful people. One day she would’ve been reunited with her son, and they would live happily ever after. And if her son truly was a god, then maybe he would've popped a couple of kittens in Kuroka as well, laying a helping ‘hand’ in her grand quest to repopulate her species.

Afterall, even the weakest of gods could match the might of a Satan, and strong children were all Kuroka ever desired anymore.

Her dreams were suddenly broken by an elbow to the rib. Hissing like a cat that was just stepped upon, Kuroka turned to her fellow Peerage member. “What?”

"Do you think we’ll need backup for this?" Cleria asked, cautious eyes scanning the city like a hawk.

Kuroka suppressed an eye roll. She’d always felt her friend took life way too seriously. What exactly was the point anyway? They were all fated to die one day; a day that could very likely be tomorrow, or if life was feeling particularly bitchy, even today. Why would anyone wish to live their potential last day worrying about inane things?

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Kuroka put a hand over her friend's shoulder, dragging her closer. "Relax, my dear partner in crime-solving. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can handle it."

Cleria wrinkled her nose, glancing at her with raised brows. "'Partner in Crime-solving'? Really? That one was bad and you know it.” She ducked underneath her, escaping her one-armed hug of doom. “And I'm not worried about who did it, I'm worried about why. We're in the middle of possibly the greatest event since the Civil War. I wouldn't be surprised if someone decided now's the time for some mischief."

That…was actually a good point.

Humming, Kuroka put her game face on, forcing herself to be serious for once. While her King had never truly punished either of them for their failures, the look of disappointment on her angelic face was already more punishment than Kuroka could handle in one lifetime.

"What do we know yet?" She asked Cleria, their feet taking them to the western part of the Bael territory, away from the castle.

"Only what Gabriel-sama told me. The Baels reported a High-Class murder in one of the Teleportation plazas, apparently Serez Balthazar was attacked and killed in broad daylight, in front of dozens of people, not even an hour ago."

"Serez Balthazar? The newly promoted High-Class who challenged the Phenex heir like an absolute cray-cray?"

"The very same."

Kuroka snorted. "Good riddance, I say. That one had it coming. There's deluded and then there's 'Deluded' with a capital ‘D’. Never saw someone go from a bootlicking commoner to matching a Bael in arrogance in just one day."

"...On that, we may agree. But it isn’t him that I’m worried about. The reason Gabriel-sama was asked to handle the case was due to the usage of Holy power in the killing. The Bael Lord suspects one of the recently arrived angels to be the culprit, and that falls under our King's jurisdiction."

"Imagine that." Kuroka huffed, frowning. "All the work from our King, and a single angel ruins everything. Instead of peace, we'd go straight to war with them by the end of the day."

"I doubt it would truly be that grim, but just to put your mind at ease, Gabriel-sama does not believe an Angel to be responsible."

“Aww, are you worried about the poor old me? Don’t worry Love, my mind is always at ease.” She tried to muss her friend’s hair but Cleria read her intentions like an open book, ducking away like the slippery minx that she was.

“I thought you were going to be serious now!” Cleria whined, patting her hair delicately whilst maintaining a solid two meters of distance between them.

Oh, the heartbreak.

“I forgot.”

“Kuroka!”

“Alright, alright," She raised her hands in surrender. "Turning completely serious now.”

With one last look of suspicion, Cleria fell back in line.

They soon arrived at the scene of crime; a public square reserved specially for the purpose of receiving the visiting devils from King Paimon's territory. With every corner of the plaza teeming with Bael guards, she doubted any stray civilian would be getting a peek inside.

One of the guards presiding over the case hurriedly came over to them, giving a quick bow as a greeting.

"Lady Belial," He said, before hesitating towards her.  "Lady…Kuroka."

Kuroka smirked. "No lady here, I'm—"

"Explain what happened here." Cleria cut in, raining on her parade. "And take us to the body."

Rude.

"I…well," The Bael guard scratched his chin. "I apologize, but there is no body to be found here."

Kuroka quirked a brow, pinning him under a sharp glare. "Reeeally?"

"Please, Lady Kuroka." He bowed even deeper. "I wouldn't dare lie. I saw it happen with my own eyes. The one who attacked Lord Balthazar…his attack completely erased the Lord's body from existence! Not even a drop of blood remains. All we have of him is…this."

He held out a burnt piece of cloth, barely an inch wide.

Kuroka glanced at Cleria, sharing a troubled look.

'This case has just become interesting.'

"And you're sure Holy power was used for this?" Cleria asked, turning back to the guard.

"Almost everyone in the immediate vicinity was burnt horribly." The guard opened his front two buttons, showing an ugly patch of melted skin. "It cannot be healed, and the…the pain. It never stops." He gritted his teeth, buttoning again with a tear in his eye. "But I was one of the lucky ones. Some of the devils who'd just arrived were left permanently blinded and no amount of healing works on them anymore."

Kuroka closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead. She wasn't one to be overly compassionate, especially not towards devils, but that was a messed up sight to witness.

But more importantly, the amount of power needed for something like this would be…

"And you're sure this was done in a single attack?" Cleria asked quietly.

The devil nodded.

Astronomical.

They ordered the guard to wait, moving away from their cluster a tiny bit to discuss in private.

"What do you think?" Her friend asked.

"Well…if it's an Angel or a Fallen, it is definitely a powerful one. Maybe even a Cadre."

Cleria nodded. "We might need Gabriel-sama's help."

Kuroka grimaced. That was one thing she did not wish to do. 'Oh, that look of disappointment…'

Forcing a cheery smile, Kuroka winked at her friend. "Oooor, we can handle it ourselves. You know, like the old times."

"Kuro—"

"Oh come on, ye of little faith. I may not have been allowed a Peerage, but I'm still an Ultimate-class Devil, you know?"

"That…wouldn't truly help if it is a Cadre."

"And I have you as well! Together, we just might be able to take on a Cadre. After all, being personally trained by our King does have its merits. You're one of the strongest High-class devils there is!"

"...Alright, fine." Cleria sighed. "You don't have to butter me up so thickly. I'm quite averse to disturbing Gabriel-sama as well."

"Well then, my de—"

"Uhh, Lady Belial, Lady Kuroka?" The guard from before came to a skidding halt in front of them. "I forgot to mention, but we may have something that might interest you. Well, someone that might interest you."

Glancing at her friend, she smiled. "Shall we?"

With one last shared nod, they signaled the guard to move.

He led them to the west side of the plaza, towards a line of Bael guards surrounding a spot on the floor.

A Mid-class Devil awaited their presence in the middle, forced upon his knees, with his hands raised behind his head as he animatedly argued with the guards. "—But I didn't do anything! You can't take me prisoner just because you saw me with him!"

"This one here is Rosoba Gultier, a servant from a High-Class family in Paimon city." The guard informed them as they came to a stop beside the devil. "Quite a few of us saw him leave with the attacker, though they seem to have parted ways since. We found him wandering the King's Market and captured him for questioning."

The kneeling devil revolved towards them, his knees scrapping on the dirt floor.

"Please, I swear on my—oh."

Kuroka watched in amusement as the color drained from the devil's face, his eyes flickering to-and-fro between both of them.

"You have something for us, Mr. Gultier?" She asked, a threat clear in her smirk.

"Please." He whispered, joining his hands to beg. "I…I cannot say anything. Please…he will kill me. You don't know what he's capable of..."

"We will protect you from retaliation, Mr. Gultier." Cleria said gravely. "But should you refuse us information now, your death will be certain."

Kuroka suppressed an impressed whistle. She loved it when her friend showed her fangs.

Beneath them, the devil trembled, hanging his head like a defeated man. "Very well. I…I'll talk."

Finally.

They were finally getting somewhere.

----------------------------

The first thing I did since escaping the scene of crime was revel in my newfound freedom. After such a long time of being trapped in that facade—an hour at most—I felt like I was owed a bit of fun anyway. So I dispersed the magical Mist off of my body, retaking my true, gorgeously breathtaking appearance, and unfurled my three glorious pairs of wings for a quick spin through the city of Bael—curious to see all the fuss about this festival.

Unfortunately, I was left utterly disappointed…

For only halfway through my flight and observation, I came upon a most terrible realization: the Devils were shite at having fun.

Contrary to my excited expectations, the Devils’ definition of a Festival involved fighting, showboating, and some more fighting plus showboating. Personally, I wasn't completely opposed to that. This Rating Game tournament that was about to start at night, for instance, was something I was genuinely looking forward to, though mostly to see the true masters of Demonic Power at work.

However, I was left miserably disheartened by the fact that they didn't have some sick demonic-version of firecrackers blasting in the sky as the afternoon sun petered out towards an early evening. I would've even taken some other unique or devilish way of celebrating...perhaps some classic blood sacrificing rituals, or even better, a free-for-all orgy.

But nope. The most excitement that happened around the city was some High-class devils playing mock fights on a tiny stage, challenging each other to one-on-ones, while a healthy crowd cheered them on. So basically a drastically toned down version of their Rating games was my guess.

Other than that, there were a few plays at a local cinema, with most of the crowd particularly excited for a live performance from some ‘Magical girl’. A choir group made up of young boys and girls performed for the festival at a public square with the backing of a Satan, making for the last popular source of entertainment.

And that made up for my disappointing tour of the city.

With my survey of the Baels at an end, I finally stopped delaying the inevitable, hardening my heart for whatever scene might greet my eyes tonight, and started towards my mission.

My plan was as simple as they come; infiltrate the Rating game and snag a position in the main box, where all the Faction leaders were supposed to gather. There, I would be able to observe, and possibly converse, with my mother under my assumed identity, and find out the actual reality of her situation. Even if she had to lie to keep up the appearance, my authority over Desires should be able to weasel out the truth.

A part of me thought myself an absolute coward for not going straight to Gabriel right this instance. Sure, getting to this Lord Bael for her location without revealing myself might be a tad bit harder—the humongous castle in the distance did look quite well-defended—but I doubted it was something outside my area of expertise.

I knew hiding behind a different face wasn't going to delay the inevitable.

Still, I stuck to my plan of kidnapping a Satan and replacing them with my much grander personage due to the fact that this way I could spy upon the entirety of Three Faction’s upper echelon. And...well, it sounded more fun.

Yep, that's all there is to it and anyone who suggests otherwise was a filthy liar—as the god of desire, I declare it to be true.

I definitely wasn't scared of meeting my mother.

'I'm Mikael fucking Gabrielson, the mortal god of Olympus, and I fucked my father's immortal wife, the queen of Olympus, the goddess of marriage, in her own palace and in her own fucking bed. There's nothing I cannot do and nothing I'm afraid of.'

Done with my last attempt at psyching myself up, I flew over the Bael city like a watchful avian, my all-seeing eyes peering over it in its entirety, searching for my target.

I found it south of where I'd started, on the other side of the massive stadium built for the special Rating Game; one of the five great mansions standing tall in the city, with a clear green crest glinting on its front.

Satan Asmodeus, or Falbium Asmodeus, was considered by many as the least of the Satans. His laziness was so legendary that many were uncertain if he would even attend this event, or waste the night away sleeping in his mansion.

I intended to change that. A Falbium Asmodeus would certainly be attending this festival, it just wouldn't be the lazy one.

Still hidden under my Concealment spell, I dove towards his mansion in a single flap, landing at the edge of his second-floor balcony. Luck seemed to be on my side today—or the Satan was simply as careless and lazy as the people said he was—for the window on the balcony was left completely open for my personal use, and I wasn’t so rude as to refuse a shortcut.

So under the shadows of its roof, I made my way through the fairly large balcony, eyeing the pool of steaming hot water at the side enviously as I approached the open window. With steps softer than cotton, I came to a stop right beside the slight crack in the wooden panels, using a strand of air to push it fully open.

"So should I inform the other Satans of your absence, my lord?"

Voices from within entered my ears, and I didn't hesitate in quickly clambering up the window, perching on its sill as I carefully peered inside.

Two silhouetted male figures were present inside the dimly lit room; one was lying upon a Queen-sized bed with a letter held loosely on his chest, while the other stood dutifully by the bedside—a servant, was my educated guess.

"Oww…you're making me think.” The bed ridden devil yawned, jaws opening wider than a pair of scissors. “And I do not like to think."

Dressed in a white bathrobe, the devil's appearance and laziness contrasted greatly with his bald head and severe face; it was almost like watching a serial killer cracking dad jokes.

‘Observe’

Falbium Asmodeus

Race: Devil

Tier: 7 (Satan-Class)

Level: 628

‘After such a long trek, I am served my target on a platter.’ Smirking, I slowly climbed down the windowsill, finally setting foot inside the room.

One thing was certain; this solution was infinitely easier than sneaking inside a fortified Castle.

"I'm quite aware of that, my lord." The servant standing over the Satan sighed exasperatedly. "But I'm afraid you must try to rub at least two brain cells together and give me an answer. It will be hard, I know…but I believe in you."

Suppressing a surprised snort at the sudden roast—now wasn't that a tongue-twister—I gazed at the weaker devil with raised brows. From what I'd seen of Rosoba—and the rest of the city—the lower class devils were completely deferential to their superiors and would never dare mouth off a higher class being like such.

I'd assumed the other devil to be naturally lower in rank compared to a Satan, but perhaps I was mistaken…

'Observe'

Kashimara Glasya-Labolas

Race: Devil

Tier: 4 (High-Class)

Level: 358

'Huh.' Not a mistake then. And judging by the posture of the lazy Satan, he wasn't at all offended.

Interesting.

"Go away, Kashi." Asmodeus groaned, letting the letter spill from his arm to the floor, before rolling on the bed to lie stomach-down, the back of his bald head staring at the ceiling. "Just looking at you standing here makes me tired. Go sit down somewhere."

"Of course, my lord." I could almost hear the rolling of eyes in the servant’s voice. “I'll just write a letter to Lady Gabriel in your name, informing her of your absence due to severe fatigue."

I leaned forward, interest piqued.

"Woah, now!" The Satan instantly bounced up on his knees in response, panic clear in his voice. "Let's not take hasty actions, shall we? Do I look fatigued to you? Of course not! I'm simply taking aa strategic rest before the big event. Yes, tell her that. I’ll be a little late but I’ll be there. Even better, don't write to Gabriel at all! Just contact Serafell instead. Oh, don’t let her know I said that though!"

Within all his words, there was a genuine desire to avoid angering Gabriel. It was with surprise that I realized his fear may not be exaggerated at all.

‘Well,’ I paused. ‘Looks like mommy dearest is quite a frightening figure.’

Up ahead, Kashimara masked his laughter in a series of suspicious coughs. "Satan Leviathan is not the organizer of this event, I’m afraid. Moreover, she'd sent a personally recorded Communication Circle, 'politely' asking you not to bother her this time. But if you truly do wish to avoid angering Lady Gabriel…"

"That…that is my wish, yes."

"Then I shall inform Lady Grayfia instead. She is supposed to organize the civilian side of things, working alongside the Baels. I’m sure she will be more…understanding of your ‘plight’ than Lady Gabriel.”

The sarcasm in his words was almost painful to hear, but I doubted Asmodeus's lazy brain deciphered any of that.

"...Yes, you do that then. I’ll just…take a small nap."

With a last sigh, Kashimara turned on his feet, bending to pick up the letter, before moving along to vacate the room. "You know, if you were a little less lazy, you'd be as respected as the other Satans…"

Those were the last words that echoed through the room as the door shut close behind the devil.

"It's not that simple." Asmodeus sighed, sounding surprisingly more somber than before. Laying back down on the bed, he spoke to the not-so-empty room in a semi-conscious chatter. "What's the point anyway? Working is losing…and I didn't become a Satan to lose everyday."

Frowning, I approached the devil with the patience of a turtle, wondering how to tackle this now. The Satan didn't seem evil enough to justify killing him, nor had he given me any sort of grief to act with a grudge.

But convincing him to simply let me take his place didn't sound like a wise choice either, no matter how much it made sense in my head after his recent outbursts.

"I thought I saw the window move without a single gust of wind…" Asmodeus suddenly spoke, sitting up slowly with a groan. "But I simply dismissed it as a random act of nature. Apparently not."

I froze mid-step, blinking in surprise.

"In the end, it is your Concealment spell that gave you away. It’s almost perfect, but sensing the disturbance of Demonic energy in spells whilst lounging in a tub of hot water has always been my favorite pastime." He turned to stare directly at me, and I knew he wasn’t bluffing anymore. "And you wouldn't believe how many times I had assassins come after me for how much of a disappointment I am as a Satan."

Instead of blasting him into a dozen devilish pieces, I calmed my knee-jerk reaction and stared at the man. He certainly didn’t look hostile, despite his acute desire to get rid of me and go back to snoring being quite high. By all means, he should’ve already taken his chance to unleash the heaviest of attacks in his arsenal upon me. But all he did was glance at me with a lazy eye, waving at me to hurry up.

Perhaps it was the arrogance of a Satan, knowing he was sat upon the highest rung of the devil world. Or perhaps he simply considered it too much of a chore to move, being too lazy to even defend himself. Whatever the case, the least I could do was return the courtesy of civility.

So fixing my ever-present smirk of superiority upon my face, I dropped the Concealment magic, stepping into reality as the god of Olympus, completely unashamed of being caught.

"Falbium Asmodeus,” I primly intoned. “A pleasure making your acquaintance.”

“Cursed Cocytus!” The Satan exclaimed in response, eyes staring at my face with a vivid fascination. “Is that your real face or a figment of my imagination? Please say it’s the latter. No being in existence has the right to be that pretty. Why, if you don’t stop smiling at me right now, I might just pop the most confused boner of all times.”

I sighed. “Well, it’s no longer a pleasure. You ruined it.”

Asmodeus snorted, laying back on his elbows. “Right. Well, on with you then. What purpose brings you here? Another assassin in a long line of failures? Or did Zekram Bael finally get fed-up of the botched attempts and send you to seduce me instead? A valiant effort, I must say, you’re already doing a better job than all the assassins combined.”

“You would be pleased to know…none of the listed.“ I rolled my eyes, waving my hand at the corner of the room to drag myself a cushioned-chair. “I do not serve any devil, Satan. And neither am I here to kill you. Honestly, you would already be dead, had I wished it so. Though that would've been a pretty terrible outcome to come of this. What kind of envoy kills one of their hosts on the first day?”

With a satisfied hum, I sat upon the luxurious armchair, making myself comfortable.

"Hmm…interesting. A self-proclaimed ‘envoy’ who thinks he can easily best me? Let me guess…you're from the Old King Faction, aren't you? Only they could be so arrogant. Or perhaps you are capable of killing me, in which case you must be…Rivezim Lucifer himself?” Asmodeus frowned, tapping his chin absently. “But you speak as if you yourself aren’t a devil, and I can hear a subtle disdain in your voice, in which case you must be a dragon or a god…”

Suddenly the devil threw himself back on his pillow, clutching his head with a painful wince. “You’re making me think! Uhh, my brain feels overworked already. State your name and purpose freely, my mysterious home-invader, and let me go back to my happy nap.”

"About damn time, Sherlock." I grunted irritably, acquiescing to the request. “My name…is Mikael Gabrielson.”

Satisfaction welled up in every corner of my heart as the color drained from the Satan's face. As if being electrocuted, he jerked up straight once more, moving to sit on his knees japanese style, eyes pulping with trepidation as he stared at me with bated breath.

Reveling in his misery, I continued. “And I’m here to ask you for your spot in the top box.”

“...What?” The terror slowly vanished away, leaving the Satan frowning in confusion. “So Gabriel didn’t send you to haul me to her, kicking and screaming?”

I folded my arms, feeling vaguely offended. “You think too highly of yourself. And did I not already say my name yet? Well, let me repeat it; I am Mikael Gabrielson. Son of Gabriel and Zeus. And I’m burdened with glorious purpose. You, my dear Satan, have the distinct honor of being useful to me."

“...And you say I think too highly of myself." Asmodeus snorted, before scrunching up his face. "But no, yeah, that makes more sense. I was right in the end, wasn’t I? Told you you’d be a dragon or a god, but the latter does seem more obvious with your name. I've heard about you, of course. Everyone has. The long lost son of our beautiful leader; there’s been more than one novel written about you, did you know? My personal favorite happens to be the one in which you burn down Olympus and all of its gods—who are obviously holding you hostage, that’s how every story goes—to reunite with your desperate mother. The part that makes it my favorite, however, is when you two profess your undying love for each other and have some steamy, forbidden sex in a library.”

I coughed in my palm, adjusting my suddenly tight pants. “That…huh. That’s…quite demonic. And clearly wrong.”

“Meh, who cares." Asmodeus snorted. "Morals are for humans and children. Now, what did you say you were here for exactly?"

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind of the images Asmodeus' little tale had conjured.

'Ahh, but if only…'

Regaining my poise, I fixed the Satan with an imperious gaze. "I'm here for your identity." I stood up slowly, letting my charisma do the convincing. "You clearly have no wish to waste your precious 'nap time' on such inane events. Luckily for you, we could help each other out. Let me take your place and attend the Festival in your stead, and I'll make sure Gabriel doesn't come hounding for your blood. Sounds good?"

Asmodeus smiled. "Sounds good. But I must ask, why exactly do you want my place again?"

I frowned, trying to think up a plausible reason that wouldn't reveal my dislike and distrust of his species. "I…wish to surprise Mother."

"Huh. Good try." Asmodeus yawned again, pushing himself out of his bed with the slowness of an old man. "See, there's just one problem."

A thin aura of orange luminescence suddenly ignited around his body like a transparent fire as he came to stand in front of me, straight and sharp.

I sighed. "Don't do this. There's really no need."

"I'm the Satan in charge of military affairs. As moved as I am by your offer, you're a foreign being intruding upon our Domain with no prior agreement."

A great power swirled around him, and I had to admit, the Satan looked impressive, finally matching the severity of his face.

"You claimed earlier that you can best me easily, had you wished so." He spread his arms wide, smiling. "Try. If you can even put a crack on my Absolute Defense, you'll have your deal. Otherwise, shoo. I'm sleepy and tired, and you're taking away my sacred time."

Rubbing my eyes, I nodded slowly. "Alright, I understand. You don't like diplomacy. Thankfully I'm a master of versatility, and violence has always been my answer to most situations."

I attacked.

To his credit, the devil reacted to my completely solicited act of violence with the quickness of a viper, betraying all the expectations of a lazy prick.

The glowing luminescence around him solidified to a thick layer of orange mist that covered him from head to toe, while he tried dodging away from my incoming fist.

Unfortunately for him, there was no point. He was woefully outmatched in close-quarter combat, and judging by his widened eyes, clearly hadn't expected my burst of speed.

My fist blurred through space, landing straight on his temple unhindered. I was surprised to note the orange mist around the devil did seem to resist me for a brief instant, but the moment my knuckles fell above his brows, it was game over.

Whatever defense he'd put up, it was too weak and brittle to stop my strength.

The devil flew through the air, cracking his bed apart in two as he crashed into the opposite wall, leaving a Satan-sized hole in the concrete.

The room around us was left destroyed by the sheer power my punch contained, the floor and walls showing signs of ruptures and tears. My senses extended through the mansion, and I was glad to note the absence of Asmodeus' servant, for the house looked a strong gust away from breaking apart.

'And that wasn't even my full strength!' Sighing, I made my way through the rubble, towards the prone body laying flat on a foam mattress.

Kneeling down beside the sleeping devil, I entwined my fingers together, cracking my knuckles. "Let's get to business then."

----------------------------

"But first, let's take a moment to realize how stupid we are to even think of doing this, shall we?" Cleria intoned gravely, eyes staring straight ahead.

Dusk had fallen upon the lands of the Underworld, the last rays of a rapidly dimming Sun gracing them with a beautiful twilight. And beneath that magnificent twilight sky, staring at the mansion of Satan Asmodeus, were the two members of Gabriel's Peerage, currently deciding upon their next course of action.

Well, one of them was deciding. The other was quite set upon her decision.

Turning to her friend with a smug smile, Kuroka responded with the confidence of a professional bullshitter. "Hmmmm...done! Took a whole minute, still think the plan's solid. Now are you ready?"

They'd finished interrogating their only lead into the case a while ago, and the information that the Gultier servant revealed had been more than enough for them to form a picture.

First, judging by the ignorant questions their target had seemed to ask, it was clear that they were dealing with someone not of the Three Factions. The ignorance he displayed about the devil society was even greater than an angel's. Kuroka genuinely couldn’t think of a single Cadre-level being who didn’t know what evil pieces were.

Second, the target was incredibly skilled in disguise, explaining how he may have sneaked into Paimon city, and then here in Bael city.

And last but not least...the target seemed especially focused on their King.

With the combination of all the information at hand, they'd finally deduced the most likely objective of their target: Using this event as an excuse to reach Lady Gabriel, and most likely try to assassinate her. And the fact that he made the Gultier servant etch every Satan’s crest on a piece of paper made them believe he would be using them to get to her.

All they needed now was to confirm their deductions. So here they were, outside the mansion of the weakest Satan, arguing about the next part of their plan.

"Kuroka, I'm serious." Cleria glanced at her with a frown. “This is a very bad idea.”

"So am I. Don't tell me you're about to back off now. I'd thought the Phenex were the true chickens of the Underworld."

"I'm not. Backing out, I mean. But if our guess is wrong, we can be in big trouble for breaking into a Satan's house. Not even Gabriel-sama might be able to save us."

Kuroka rolled her eyes. "Relax. It's Asmodeus. If there's one Satan who wouldn't mind us sneaking into their house, it'd be him."

“That…may be true but…” Cleria gritted her teeth, looking quite out of complaints to throw. "Ugh...Fine! But you're going to explain all this to Lady Gabriel when we inevitably fail."

That was a much stronger threat, but Kuroka calmed her mind and continued forth. "If we fail, sure."

Breaking into the Asmodeus mansion proved easy enough. Out of all four, Falbium was the only Satan who disdained having any member of his peerage working. Which meant the house was left completely unguarded and trivial to sneak into.

Kuroka took the lead, passing through the porch to approach the main door, before forcing it open with a light shove.

The mansion was eerily quiet, a deathly silence reigning supreme that made her skin crawl. Darkness enveloped it whole, from the ceiling to the floor, with a winked-out brazier growing cold in front of them.

Their heels clicked upon the crystalline tiles as they entered the foyer cautiously, eyes flickering through the creepy shadows of the entrance hall.

"A battle, do you think?" Cleria whispered, pointing at the broken support poles and large cracks on the wall.

“Possible.” Kuroka whispered back, nodding. "Let's check upstairs."

Two sets of sweeping staircases led to either side of the mansion, with the grand staircase at the middle heading straight above.

The signs of fighting became more prominent once they reached the second floor; from the fallen paintings and cracked ceilings, to a very large tear through the middle of the floor, it looked like two High-Class devils had battled it out throughout the mansion.

“Here.” Cleria elbowed her, nodding at a door that looked to be hacked in half with a rusty axe.

The damage was so great that it seemed to be completely jammed, and they had to pop it out of its socket to get through.

The scene awaiting them was far worse than anything they’d encountered in the house till now. The ceiling looked a precious few seconds away from meeting the floor, which in itself was in no condition to support the additional weight. If even a single piece of concrete managed to crash down from above, they would be going straight down to the first floor, along with a pile of roof and rubble.

A queen-sized bed sat at the opposite wall, having been torn precisely in half, with a human-sized shape carved inside the wall behind it.

“I told you so.” Kuroka smirked, masking her nerves beneath a fake curtain of calmness. “Let’s see what really happened, shall we?”

Shaking her head exasperatedly, Cleria quickly moved towards the man-shaped crater, with Kuroka leisurely following behind. The moment her friend passed through the large hole however, her entire body ground to a stunned halt.

“Kuroka.” The alarm in her friend’s voice further made her hurry up, and she came to witness the scene with her own eyes.

A bald man was slumped over at the end of the tiny room, lying on a mattress buried beneath a pile of dust and rubble.

“Satan Asmodeus.” Cleria whispered, eyes wide with disbelief. “Could the target truly have done this on his own?”

“Let’s ask the victim ourselves, shall we?” Without wasting a moment longer, Kuroka advanced upon the prone devil and gave him a solid whack on the cheeks.

"Kuroka! Slapping an unconscious person doesn't actually—"

"...Ughhh." The Satan groaned beneath them, opening his eyes blearily. "I was having the most comfortable sleep of my life. Did you really have to ruin it?"

Kuroka glanced at her friend.

"Th-this one doesn't count. This is clearly a special ca—"

"Cleria."

The somberness in her voice must've taken her friend by surprise, for she came to a complete halt, gaping at her like a baby chicken.

"If Satan Asmodeus is here," Kuroka continued, feeling a terrible premonition set in her bones. "Then who is attending the Festival?"

The realization dawned on her friend at the same instant."Shit."

They were out of time.

----------------------------

Taking the appearance of Falbium Asmodeus was easy. Finding the VIP box wasn't.

I managed to traverse through the busy roads of Bael city easily enough, every bit of which was packed full with an unholy mixture of Low and Mid-class devils.

My face seemed to surprise quite a few, though I remained completely unaccosted.  Maybe the Satans weren’t as big a celebrity as I'd been led to believe they were.

Entering the devil stadium proved even easier, and I greatly enjoyed my VIP treatment, getting to cut lines and be waved in without any delays. The only test I had to go through was to be checked for Transformation magic, simply to see if I was an imposter—which I certainly was, but who cared?—before being let in.

The High-Class Devil and the guards responsible for the process had a strangely quizzical look on their faces the whole time. And while none dared voice their questions to me, their desires screamed the need to know why the fuck was I even here.

Clearly I'd missed a social memo that comes with being a Satan, though I found myself unapologetically uncaring. I only needed to maintain my identity for a little while longer before I revealed my true divine self to the devil world.

As I walked through the entrance hall, it struck me as strange that the Bael stadium was almost entirely similar in structure to...well, literally any human stadium.

The only difference came from the fact that even with their tiny population, things seemed a lot more hectic here. Devils of Low, Mid, and High-Class hurried up and down the corridors, looking harried and hunted in their preparations for the Festival. Even so, none forgot to stop and give me a proper bow.

However, every High-Class devil bar none seemed to find me strange, doing a double take once I'd passed them by. From their desires, I managed to glimpse a possible explanation; most simply knew something was wrong with me but couldn't quite put a finger upon the issue, but the more observant ones seemed to find me too active and sharp. Apparently, Falbium Asmodeus wasn't even supposed to walk down a corridor on his own two feet like a normal person.

'Seriously, Asmodeus?'

Unfortunately, my access to Mist was too limited currently to effectively fool everyone's minds. The issue wasn't alarming enough for me to care about, however, so I went on my merry way.

Apart from that, I noticed no big changes in the stadium that would make me wanna raise a hand and scream 'Devil!'.

At least, that was what it seemed from the entrance.

Things took a turn for worse once I passed the Rating Games Hall of Fame, ignoring all the trophies, records, and participants immortalized upon the walls.

With multiple tunnels leading to different VIP sections, and receiving even more strange looks from all the devils, I finally had to admit defeat, deciding to ask one of the guards for help.

"Lord Asmodeus."

Or, at least, that had been my plan before I turned around to face my caller and came upon a most enchanting young woman standing in the middle of the hallway. Dressed in a blue and white French maid outfit, her graceful beauty seemed to single-handedly light up the halls of the stadium, bringing order and calm in a whirlwind of chaos.

‘Observe’

Grayfia Lucifuge

Race: Devil

Tier: 6 (Peak Ultimate-Class)

Level: 599

‘Beauty and power.’ Now this…this was a woman I simply must have. The world would be a darker place indeed, without a maid like her by my side.

'Beautiful' fell too short a word in describing her charm. While no Aphrodite, I wouldn’t act surprised should she declare herself a goddess right this instant. With crimson eyes like twin pools of blood, and two silver braids resting upon the soft swell of her ample breasts, Grayfia Lucifuge had me hooked from the first sight.

“I received your letter earlier in the evening.” The fair maiden spoke calmly, closing the distance between us with soft, purposeful steps. “I hadn't expected you to arrive on time."

I prepared the most charming smile I was capable of mustering, and unleashed it upon my target with all my long years of expertise at wooing women. "Ah, but how can I ever be late, knowing a woman like you awaits my presence?" I wiggled my eyebrows, letting my eyes blatantly scan her up and down, reveling in her ravishing beauty.

This was the moment the women were supposed to blush or chuckle—or try hard to get, but as the god of desires I could sniff out the hidden arousal instantly—before finally falling to my charm as all women eventually do.

Grayfia looked confused.

'...The fuck?'

Peering at me more closely, she inspected me like a bug underneath her eyes, before finally backing away with a quizzical look. "I...thank you?" She shook her head. "Now if you may follow me, I shall show you to your seat."

There was not a hint of desire for me within her. Not even a single drop that I could manipulate.

'Oof, critical attack, straight to the heart.'

I couldn't remember the last time I was brushed away so easily by a woman.

'Curse you, Asmodeus. Your ugly bald head is causing me some serious trouble right now.'

Grumbling under my breath, I followed the Devilish woman grouchily. "Fine."

She led me through the left-most VIP section, up a set of long, spiraling stairs that smelled of freshly polished wood.

Unfortunately, the female devil turned out to be a terrible conversationalist—or perhaps she simply wasn't interested in talking to me—for our journey passed mostly in a painful silence. A silence that summoned all my doubts and anxieties to the forefront of my mind, making me aware of just how close I was to my angel.

Just a single staircase away.

'She might not even be my angel any longer.'

Before my mind could spiral down a path of no return—and I did not relish using the Gamer's Mind for my first talk with Gabriel—I focused back on the bombshell walking beside me.

Couldn't just admit defeat after a single rejection now, could I?

Letting a lazy smirk stretch upon my face, I glanced at the devil again. "Did I mention you look absolutely ravishing tonight?"

Once again, Grayfia remained unimpressed, shooting me a strange look. "You did not, but I do not remember asking either."

Widening my eyes comically, I clutched my heart to stop the bleeding damage just inflicted upon me, stumbling in my steps.

"Are you alright?" Grayfia looked genuinely worried, bless her heart.

"Oh nothing, I was just brutally stabbed in the chest by the words of a fair maiden. Whatever do you think I may have done to deserve such harshness?"

Her worry melted beneath an amused smile. “I apologize for my 'harshness', my lord. I didn’t know you were quite so…sensitive.”

I huffed, folding my hands. “Well, now you know."

But as we resumed our journey, I noticed that she didn't stop looking at me, sneaking tiny glances from the corner of her eye, a perplexed look adorning her face the entire time, as if I were a puzzle she was trying to solve.

At one point I finally managed to catch her eye, raising a brow in question.

"Forgive me, I have simply never seen you like this before." She explained, bowing apologetically. "Did your Nephew finally manage to convince you into changing your way of sloth?"

I nodded slowly. "Something like that, yes."

"Forgive me for saying so, but I don't believe your current path is the way to go. Had I been battling my demons, I wouldn't choose to go from a lazy person to a coquette. That is not something I would call 'Progress'."

I shrugged blithely. "Still made you smile, didn't I? That’s all that matters. Do you know how fabulous you look when you smile?”

She didn't respond to the compliment.

"Even if you do wish to change in this way, I am possibly the worst person to try your charms upon. Perhaps second only to Lady Gabriel."

Now I was definitely interested.

"And why is that?"

She tilted her head at me, frowning. "You know why, of course. I may take my duties as a maid seriously but that does not mean I am not still the wife of Sirzechs Lucifer."

Not what I was asking about but still a small blow to my heart. Though I was genuinely surprised to know that she was married. She barely even looked over twenty! Then again, I shouldn't have made baseless assumptions. Gods and goddesses weren't the only beings capable of ever-lasting youth.

Still, I was beginning to get very irritated by Satans in general. 'First Gabriel, now Grayfia…'

"Why are all the Satans such devious little cunts?" I couldn't help but grouch.

Grayfia let out a startled laugh. "You tell me. You're the bigger expert here."

"Huh. Fair."

----------------

Soon enough, the final hurdle to my goal was crossed successfully. Once we reached the upper floor, Grayfia led me to a halt in front of two giant glazed doors with frosted glass panels, before bidding me a polite farewell as my final destination stared back at me menacingly.

Shortly after she was gone, I stood facing the door with a relatively calm heart, the knowledge of what awaited me within clear in my mind.

'This is it.'

It was time for the truth. The promise I'd made so long ago—to myself and to my mother—rang in my mind like an ultimatum; we certainly were reuniting, and none in the universe would be barring our way now, but it wasn’t eight years later as I’d predicted and was promised.

And now that I was finally here, there was no hesitation present in my heart. All the doubts and uncertainties were buried deep within my heart, locked away behind a mask of solid confidence and assurance.

Whatever happened today, it would not spell the end of my tale.

But it would influence the way my story proceeded. I was going to meet my mother, and I was going to find the path of our possible future together. Or lack thereof.

I closed my eyes, my mind sharp and prepared, and with the gait of a god, clicked the door open…only to find a completely empty room greeting my eyes.

“What.” Bewildered, I pushed the doors fully open.

It was a dark chamber, long and wide like an empty classroom, with a magic Circle etched in the floor similar to the one I’d encountered in Paimon city’s Teleportation room—just with a different design and a smaller magnitude.

But there was no Gabriel here. No Angels, no Devils, and no Fallens to speak of. The room was as lifeless as a dead carcass, and all my gathered adrenaline petered out in irritation.

'Fuck's sake.' I grouched, slowly walking in. 'Should've checked the room before hyping myself up.'

There was another door at the opposite end of the chamber, simple and wooden. Extending my senses through the air, I confirmed the presence of multiple people beyond it with a bitter face.

‘Through there then.’ I sighed. ‘Man, this was so fucking anti-climatic.’

Bubbling with irritation, I stomped over to the door like a god on a mission, and with no further preamble, gave it a good shove with a portion of my godly strength.

It was sudden, impulsive, and gave me no time to prepare as the door banged open dramatically, and four pairs of eyes pinned me under their stares, all belonging to a single race.

Yet, my heart was a tranquil sea, calm and weighted.

With the same easy confidence that I’d lived my whole life, I swaggered inside the room, letting the gazes of the three Satans wash over me with no effect.

"Falbi-chan! You're on time!"

Ignoring the sudden exclamation and everything else in the room, my eyes sought out the only thing that truly mattered, finding it almost immediately.

They awaited my inspection like a treasure greatly sought. The violet pair of eyes—that had visited my dreams almost every night for the last five years—looking like the most exotic shards of crystals, staring back at me with a mixture of surprise and exasperation. They were harsher than I remembered them being, lacking the gentle care they'd once held, the love that would threaten to drown me in its depth every time I looked at her.

They carried no such love anymore.

My throat contracted heavily and I looked away from the frowning eyes before I could be overwhelmed by the surge of chaotic emotions that threatened to tear my calmness into splinters, recalling just who I currently was.

‘I can’t hug her.’ I reminded myself. No matter how I wanted to do just that, I couldn’t just take her in my arms and breathe words of assurance, of how much I’d missed her, of how dearly I’d waited for this moment…

Not yet.

I didn't know what relationship Asmodeus shared with Gabriel, but judging by his earlier fear—no matter how amusing—it certainly wasn't an overly positive one. I would need to be careful not to give myself away too soon.

'But those eyes…beautiful, violet eyes…'

I quickly stared around at my surroundings to distract my racing heart.

The room I stood within was massive in its dimensions, its high ceiling stretching dozens of feet above my head. Luxuriously furnished with royal purple carpets, the room gave off an incredibly formal vibe to me, with three lines of chairs facing each other, looking arranged for an official meeting. There was a table placed right in the middle, currently arranged only with a jug of water and a handful of glasses, but I suspected a hearty feast was in my future tonight.

Two large screens were stuck on either side of the room—placed slanted against the wall—showing the same footage of an empty ground that was being prepared for battle. I was strangely surprised to see human technology being used here; from the presence of castles and fortresses, and a complete lack of huge corporate buildings and noisy vehicles, I’d assumed the Devils were still living in the middle ages, with an occasionally advanced structure into the mix.

Apparently not.

Last but not least, directly in front of us—with all the chairs facing it at varying degrees—was a wall of pure glass. The crystal-clear panels made up for an entire section of the room—even enveloping a part of the floor—giving unfettered access to the view beyond, with the clear glass showing us the exact same scene as the screens, simply giving a more direct view at the grounds.

Surrounding the ground was the rest of the stadium, with a large cylindrical ring hovering in mid-air, its circular surface equipped with multiple screens to display the games to the entire audience. Even from a mile away, I could spy at the crowd slowly filling out the seats, the red vacancy disappearing away bit by bit, every face looking excited for the night ahead.

'Let's hope someone doesn't ruin it.' I snorted wryly.

"Falbi-chan! Don't you dare ignore me this time! Not after I covered for you yesterday!" The angry yell from the same previous voice finally gained my attention, and I turned to find a little girl, who didn't even reach my chin, stomping her feet in front of me like a child in the middle of her tantrum.

Or well, she would've been a little girl—though probably still in her teens—if she didn't have two massive sets of badonkers bouncing on her chest as if gravity didn’t exist, looking heavier than the mass of her entire body.

In hindsight, they weren't truly as huge as they appeared—they weren't even the biggest pair in this room, and I had to consciously stop myself from sneaking a glance at the true winner—but on her tiny frame, they looked absolutely humongous.

How could a body as petite as hers carry those oversized melons was a mystery I would've loved to solve at any other time, preferably by getting very up close and personal. But right then, I had other problems to worry about.

'Observe'

Serafall Leviathan

Race: Devil

Tier: 7 (Satan-Class)

Level: 668

Besides the girl, the other two Satans approached me as well, both displaying smiles from different ends of the spectrum; with the red-haired one sporting a full set of teeth on his welcoming face, while the green-haired one looked like he was trying to smile for the first time in his life.

Beardless and clean-faced, both the Satans appeared to be barely into their twenties, carrying an aura of power wrapped around their being.

'Observe'

Sirzechs Lucifer

Race: Devil

Tier: 9 (Peak Super-Class)

Level: 890

Ajuka Beelzebub

Race: Devil

Tier: 9 (Peak Super-Class)

Level: 889

I’d already suspected them of rivaling a god's power after Zeus personally asked for them, but it was still a pause-worthy surprise to realize how truly monstrous these two beings were, matching the might of Poseidon and Hades.

‘Makes sense how he trapped Grayfia in his web.‘ I grumbled sourly.

Just to gauge a fuller picture, I observed their entire status.

Sirzechs Lucifer

Race: Devil

Tier: 9 (Peak Super-Class)

Level: 890

Demonic Power: 93,000,000/93,000,000

Stamina: 89,000,000/89,000,000

Health: 88,800,000/88,000,000

Stats

Strength: 884

Speed: 894

Dexterity: 893

Endurance: 890

Constitution: 888

Mental: 68

Spirit: 930

Ajuka Beelzebub

Race: Devil

Tier: 9 (Peak Super-Class)

Level: 889

Demonic Power: 92,500,000/92,500,000

Stamina: 89,000,000/89,000,000

Health: 89,100,000/89,100,000

Stats

Strength: 880

Speed: 890

Dexterity: 894

Endurance: 890

Constitution: 891

Mental: 75

Spirit: 925

I suppressed a quicker intake of breath, letting myself mull over the fact that their raw power was even greater than Zeus, though admittedly without his lightning bolt…

‘Alright. Let's at least try to behave a little like Asmodeus.’ I didn't want to give them a reason to turn hostile before my task here was done.

"It is a pleasant surprise to see you here so soon, Falbium." Sirzechs Lucifer said, eyes flickering once towards the door I'd just stepped through. "The Games are about to start, we're just waiting for our esteemed guests."

The green-haired one simply tilted his head to me. "Hello, Falbium."

"Sirzechs, Ajuka." I greeted the monstrous duo with a nod and a lazy smile. "It is a pretty big event. Thought I should arrive on time just this once."

“I’m glad you have.” Lucifer smiled.

"You're still ignoring me." Beneath me, Serafall Leviathan pushed herself up on the balls of her feet. "You're still ignoring me."

With an overly exaggerated yawn, I finally greeted the Satan girl with a casual wave. "Hello, Serafall."

"Noo-oo-oo!" She stomped her foot again, lowering herself to her original height. "I told you to call me Sera-tan!"

Dressed in a bubblegum pink top that left her midriff exposed and a tiny skirt of matching color, Serafall Leviathan looked like she was cosplaying a DnD character, especially with the pink magic stick in her hand being waved around randomly through the air.

Snorting amusedly at the hobbling girl, I gave into the urge biting at my heels and patted her head, mussing up her pink hat. "Very well then, Sera-tan."

She wrinkled her nose, opening her mouth to retort before suddenly whipping her head at the door.

I didn't need to ask the reason, for my own ears picked up a familiar sound of a dying engine declaring the presence of Teleportation. My Divine senses recognised the presence of six new figures popping into existence in the front room, slowly beginning to make their way over here.

"They're here." Serafall announced hurriedly, before turning to me. "Quick, Falbi-chan! Tell me how I look!"

She gave a little twirl, her skirt jumping up to reveal her white panties as she whipped her magic wand around expertly. "Never fear, for the Magical girl is here!" Sparkles of glowing stars glittered through the air from her wand, covering her little body from head to toe.

She paused mid-performance, cocking her head at me. "Or should I go with, 'Hi! I'm Satan Leviathan! But you can call me Levia-tan!'" Her wand launched another shower of sparkling stars.

"Neither, if you will Serafall." The sudden chiding voice from my left put a chill through my spine, sounding so surreally familiar yet so utterly alien. "You already introduced yourself yesterday. I doubt they would like a repeat performance."

I involuntarily shied away from meeting her gaze as the woman of my dreams passed us by, joining the other two Satans to approach the door. I knew what I had to do, knew I couldn’t keep hiding away from her now that I was finally here, but for some reason it felt easier to control myself as long as I didn't have to look her in the face; for the moment I did, I knew it would be much more difficult to keep maintaining my facade.

Beside me, Serafall stared at Gabriel’s back with a pouty glare, before leaning closer to me, speaking in a staged whisper. "Azazel-chan would. He always likes my Magical introduction. Gabby is just jealous of my awesome intros."

I raised my brows, caught slightly off guard. 'Great. So Azazel is here too.'

For the first time in a long while, my thoughts wandered towards Issei and Irina, wondering what they would be doing right now. 'Hopefully something that doesn't put their life in danger.'

Serafall and I joined the other three as the door to the VIP room opened once again, revealing five unfamiliar figures and one oh-so-familiar clown.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, Azazel's fashion sense had remained unchanged even half a decade later. With his goatee and joker costume still intact, he looked the same as he did the first time I'd had the great displeasure of laying my gaze upon him; A total tool.

The remaining five did not belong to the same faction, standing in two groups of three, and eyeing each other with polite wariness. My focus jumped to the most eye-catching person of the group; a blonde-haired, green-eyed man who seemed to be the leader of the last Faction; the Angels.

Also my namesake, if I recalled correctly.

Dressed in a red robe—with a golden cross etched at the front of his white alb—and two golden shoulder plates with white sashes on both sides, Michael the Angel looked like the holiest person I’d ever met…save for God. That impression was only topped off by an honest to god golden halo that crowned his head in a gentle glow.

Michael

Race: Angels

Tier: 7 (12-Winged)

Level: 699

Holy Power: 7,300,000/7,300,000

Stamina: 6,970,000/6,970,000

Health: 6,990,000/6,990,000

Stats

Strength: 701

Speed: 698

Dexterity: 700

Endurance: 697

Constitution: 699

Mental: 69

Spirit: 730

‘Powerful.’ Certainly the most powerful Tier 7 I’d ever seen, with his raw power matching a True God’s, surpassing even Ares and Dionysus.

Yet, I was stronger still. It felt gratifying to know that of all the Faction leaders currently gathered in the room, only two stood higher than me. Then again, those two were also stronger than every god except for the Supreme, so that wasn’t saying much.

“Welcome, honored friends!” Sirzechs Lucifer took the lead amongst the Devils, with a smile that I grudgingly admitted to be charming fixed on his face. “I hope you've been enjoying your stay in the city."

"Hmm, the servants could be a little less racist, but sure." Azazel shrugged, giving a sardonic smile. "There was plenty to enjoy about the city."

I could almost taste his bitter sarcasm on my tongue.

"Come now, Azazel." Michael spoke up chidingly. "You must not judge them so harshly. Centuries of systematic hatred and bitter rivalry is hard to wipe out in a mere few years. But that is why we are here, are we not? To bring an end to our splintered system and bridge the gap between our people. We must lead by example if we are to ever see our Faction as one."

"Always the voice of reason, brother." Gabriel walked up to him, smiling. "We missed your presence yesterday. I'm glad you were able to make it for the big event."

"Gabriel." Michael smiled back. "I would not have missed this day even had I wanted to."

Standing at the back of the group, I kept myself mostly away from the attention, simply letting my Authority observe the desires of all present. That was all I truly had to do today; observe and gather information. And being in the shadows was the way to do it.

As the siblings shared a brief hug, I couldn’t help but frown at the subtle darkness in their desire. While Michael felt nothing but familial love and regret for Gabriel, I was surprised to pick up on specks of ulterior motive in my mother's thoughts

Had I not been so terribly biased, I would've guessed Gabriel to be the evil one in this room; planning to manipulate the poor, innocent Michael. An absurd thought to be sure, the Gabriel I knew contained not a single manipulative bone in her body.

‘Then again, is this truly the Gabriel I knew?’

Of course, Azazel just had to ruin all of it by poking his lecherous nose in the middle, shoving his face over their shoulders. "May I say, I too am your brother?"

This one definitely had lust in his desire, and not just for Gabriel either.

‘Filthy bastard.’ As much as I’d appreciated Azazel’s occasional help, he was, without a doubt, a person who could only be digested in tiny crumbs. And I meant very tiny, like 5 minutes per talk at most.

I suppressed a squeal of happiness when he received nothing but a slap on the forehead from Gabriel for his trouble, powerful enough to send him stumbling back.

"Aughh!" Azazel cried out, holding his head. "That was completely unnecessary. And shall I say, you're grown quite strong since we last met, sister. One day you might just slap my head off of my shoulders if you aren't careful."

"I, for one, am looking forward to that day." One of the other two Angels standing behind Michael spoke up, a disgusted grimace on his face as his gaze bored into Azazel.

"Uriel!" Azazel exclaimed, as if just having spotted him, even though both the groups had entered together. "How nice of you to join us!" He then put a hand under his chin, scratching his stubble as he frowned mockingly. "Say, did you finally learn how to sing, brother? I must say, the last competition that you'd lost so shamefully had been painful to witness."

Uriel the angel glowered, looking about ready to tear into his Fallen brother.

"I apologize for our leader," One of the Fallen spoke, stepping forward to pull Azazel back. "He hasn't quite grown out of his immaturity yet, I'm afraid. Please ignore him."

Azazel tsked, turning to the Fallen. "Yeah, ruin all my fun, why don't you, Shem. I knew I should've brought Baraqiel instead."

"Please," Sirzechs retook the reins over the chaotic group once more. "There will be plenty more time for talkings, I'm sure. Let us adjourn at the table so graciously arranged for us."

Accepting the Devil's advice, the group of eleven moved to take their seat on the pre-arranged chairs. I was glad to note that they were placed with plenty of space in between, and found myself instinctively booking for the seat next to Gabriel.

The chairs were loosely arranged in a U-shaped formation, with the trio of Angels and Fallens facing each other, while the five devils bridged the gap between. As the leader of devils, Lucifer took the middle spot, with Beelzebub and Gabriel flanking him on either side, and me and Serafall taking the edges. At my right sat a Fallen, the only other being beside Gabriel who reeked of darkness.

And while I may be biased in my mother’s case, him—I instantly deemed evil.

Kokabiel

Race: Fallen Angel

Tier: 6 (10-Winged)

Level: 519

Kokabiel the Fallen did not want this peace treaty to go through. All he desired was chaos, his sense of superiority and lust for battle almost matching Ares. Had I given a lick about the Three Factions right now, I would’ve instantly put him under arrest. Unfortunately, there was still some time before I could even think of usurping the power of the two strongest devils and taking my rightful position, so I put the Fallen at the back of my mind.

As I settled into my seat however, the moment I'd been dreading and breathlessly anticipating at the same time finally arrived before me.

"Next to me, Falbium?" She turned to me with a quirked brow. “I would’ve expected you to run as far away from me as possible.”

Firming my heart for the worst, I finally stopped avoiding her gaze, turning to her with bated breath.

I found myself lost instantly.

My eyes drank the vision of her beauty with a dangerous thirst of obsession. And not for the first time in my life, I was left simply awestruck from witnessing the wonder that was Gabriel

She was so, so beautiful. Every part of her angelic face, from her delicate jaw to her noble cheeks and graceful features, from her striking violet eyes and the gentle bridge of her nose to her plump, rosy lips…

Gabriel was beautiful, through to her bones, despite any flaws or faults. She was beautiful, to me at least. At least? To me, she was the most beautiful. Greater than any. Aphrodite, Hera, Artemis, Grayfia, all combined could not hope to match her. No one could match her.

No one should dare.

“Or have you finally decided to stop running away at the first sign of work?" She continued, gaining a quizzical tint at my fixed gaze.

I didn't reply. I couldn't reply. My mind was numb, my eyes fixed on her. It felt like a herd of thousand horses were stampeding in my heart, clobbering me to pieces.

I wanted to touch her but I couldn't. I wanted to take her in my arms but I couldn't. I wanted to tell her who I was, show her what I’d become, how far I’d come, to make her proud…but I couldn’t.

I was so close to her, yet so far away.

"What, Falbium?" She asked, growing visibly irritated, eyes narrowing in suspicion at my silence. "Will you stop staring at me like you're about to cry?"

It was only then did I realize that my mother had never looked at me with genuine anger before. Hell, she'd never been less than gentle with me ever; soft and sweet was how I remembered her. Had I wished to stare at her for a thousand years, she would’ve patiently paused in place like a statue, prostrating herself to my eyes until I’d quenched my thirst.

I realized I never wanted her to look at me like this again.

With a deep breath, I took control of myself, shrugging off the urge to grasp the comfort of Gamer's Mind. This wasn’t Aphrodite that I was dealing with, whose emotions I didn’t give a fuck about. This was the woman who mattered the most to me, the one I’d first laid my eyes upon in this world, before I even became aware of my system. She deserved to talk to the real me, not some muted, ever-composed mockery of the system.

'Gods, but if this isn’t worse than being with Aphrodite.'

Turning to Gabriel, I smiled with forced nonchalance, searching within myself for something Asmodeus would say. "My apologies," I was momentarily surprised by how steady my voice was, in complete contrast to the havoc in my mind.  "I just... haven't had my afternoon nap today."

"Of course." Gabriel rolled her eyes. "And I'm sure you blame this event for the inconvenience."

“Well…maybe.” I gave a lame smile.

Gabriel snorted, shaking her head.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to ask her what I wanted…I didn't even know what I truly wanted.

Closing my eyes, I clenched my fist. 'C'mon, dude. You're supposed to know these things. You've defeated every obstacle on your way, don't falter now…'

Yet, sitting here, I didn’t feel like the one who’d done all those things. I felt like a child, so lost and helpless and clueless, unable to do what I wanted to do, and ignorant of what I needed to do. The urge to give up this facade and reveal myself in full was a battle I felt myself losing slowly. But I held on with the tips of my fingers, because I had to know the truth. That was the only thing I knew for certain.

It was pure torture.

Up ahead, the commentators for the evening declared the start of the Festival, welcoming the crowd to the first ever 'Great Unity Festival', and the Rating Games that were about to start in its honor, before finally finishing by announcing our names—all eleven of us—one by one, to the roar of the crowd. I wasn't even surprised when Gabriel received the loudest cheer of us all.

Sirzechs Lucifer then stood up to give a small opening speech, his voice echoing throughout the stadium, and his figure displayed on every screen. Thankfully he kept it short, speaking about peace and unity, and the Factions finally coming together to bury their millennia long rivalry. It was exactly what the Mid-Class devils in Paimon city had been blubbering about, and the Satan seemed to give the crowd exactly what they'd wanted to hear.

After another thunderous round of applause, the Rating Games began officially. Every screen in the stadium—including the two in the room—shifted to show our participants for tonight as the commentator introduced the audience to what seemed like the popular figures of the sport. There were also quite a few Angels and Fallens participating in the tournament, having arrived alongside their leaders.

I found myself missing most of the introduction, my attention fixed mostly on Gabriel as my brain tried to come up with a way to ask what I wanted.

Before I could figure out a clever way to direct our conversation however, Gabriel turned to me again. "Your failure to greet the other Faction leaders yesterday was noted, by the way. You're lucky you weren't the only one, or your absence would've been the most jarring. I don't suppose you have any good reason this time?"

'Goddamn Asmodeus.'

"Ah, well," I shrugged, trying to appear blithe. "You should already know the reason for that by now."

"What?" Gabriel sounded surprised. "No stupid excuse this time?"

"What would be the point?"

"There usually isn't, yet you still persist. I'm simply surprised to see you finally giving up."

I shrugged again, avoiding her eyes. "Everyone has their breaking point."

She hummed, but I could see her suspicions deepening as she turned back to the spectacle ahead. "I hope you at least know all their names now."

"I do." Those I didn't, I could simply observe.

The first fight of the night was chosen between an up-and-coming High-Class Devil Riser Phenex and a six-winged Angel, Nahaliel. The Angels and Fallens were given leave to form their own teams to compete against Peerages, under the strict adherence to a set of rules that the commentators didn’t bother announcing.

"As for the rules of this Rating Game, we're going to open the night with a Dice Figure game!" The male commentator announced with great enthusiasm. "Those who are unaware of the format, let me walk you through it. And worry not, this will only be one of the many special Rating Games to come tonight!"

Amidst the renewed cheers and whoops of the crowd, our room received a new set of visitors. Servants of the Bael clan entered through the door, balancing an assortment of plates in their hands, with the gorgeous devil maid, Grayfia Lucifuge, directing them to arrange the dishes in specific order upon the table.

I was left slightly impressed by the servants' efficiency; by the time the commentators even started announcing the rules of Dice Figure, they had already vacated the room.

"Instead of a long drawn team-battle, Dice Figure sports a series of blitz battles between selected members of the opposing teams. First, both the Kings shall be given an ordinary six-sided dice. Once thrown, the combined number that they receive will determine which players from their teams can participate in the fight. For instance, if the combined number is five, you can select any member—or members—whose Piece value matches five. For those unaware; a pawn is valued at one, a Knight at three, a Bishop at three, a Rook at five, and the Queen at nine. Which means both the teams can either send a single Rook, or a Knight and two pawns, or a Bishop and two pawns, or even five pawns if they so wish! And do not worry, the Angel and Fallen teams who do not have Peerage members have already received Piece value for each of their members. Now with that said, let the Rating Games begin!"

I had to admit, the commentators and the crowd's excitement was infectious. Despite my current plight, I found myself sitting at the edge of my seat, staring at the mega screen in the distance as the participants gathered on an elevated platform on either side of the stadium.

While I had no idea about the finer points of the Game, it looked like an interesting setup. The Faction leaders around me were already placing their bets—each supporting their own Faction of course—while enjoying the delicious food arranged for us.

There was probably some political weight behind this competition that I wasn't privy to currently, nor did I care to find out.

Soon, the Kings of both the teams were called upon by the commentators, and the Devil and Angel duo walked up to a hovering platform in the middle, where they were made to throw a pair of dice. The numbers were displayed on all the screens, coincidentally getting the same one that the commentator had used as an example; one felling a 4 and the other a 1. With the combined total of 5, the Kings/leaders of the teams were asked to elect the members that would be fighting the match.

Riser Phenex chose a lone rook, Xuelan. My interest was piqued when her image was shown on the screen; a young Chinese woman, wearing an incredibly low-necked qipao that left her ample breasts almost bare.

As my eyes cast an appreciative gaze upon the woman, I belatedly came upon a most startling conclusion: the Devils as a species produced much better quality tits than humans; perkier, fuller, and seemingly defying gravity without needing a bra. And they really weren't afraid to flaunt it.

In comparison, the angel chose three members to represent him, all three being boringly male.

As the selected participants approached the battleground under a green holographic Teleportation, the commentators listed some more rules of the game. “The members now selected cannot be chosen again. The scores of their battle will be noted until all the members fight, or the King loses—which shall lead to an instant defeat, of course, no matter what the prior score is. But as both the current Kings are evaluated at a piece value of ten, they can only choose themselves to fight if the dice spills at least two fives. Of course, they can also not risk a complete loss and elect to not fight at all, in which case the team with the highest score wins!”

I was left slightly surprised when the battleground was enveloped under a green layer of Demonic Power, crafting a barrier that shifted the whole place through space and time. All the screens suddenly changed the scenes as well; instead of a flat grassland, there was now a field of molten lava and fiery volcano through which our current fighters traversed on.

'Yep. Devil magic is something that I really need to learn.'

Unfortunately, the battle between the devil and angels wasn't nearly as interesting.

All four of them were Tier 2; one Low-Class devil, and three 2-Winged angels. And while it seemed like the woman was skilled—flames licking her arms and legs—by far the most interesting feature about her was the way her tits jiggled and bounced with every punch and kick she threw.

Unfortunately for her, while she was clearly more powerful than any of the angels individually, there were three of them, with the angel valued at three pieces being particularly skilled at launching Fire Spears through a yellow magic array. But above all, they had an incredibly unfair advantage: Holy Power.

The Rook managed to take down two Angels before the Knight-equivalent Angel finally skewered her with a Holy Fire spear through the gut.

All the members who'd lost disappeared away in green motes of light, a single point of health keeping them tied to the realm of living.

The win went to the Angel, eliciting a wave of cheers and boos from the crowd, though none seemed particularly malicious in nature. Both the Kings were once again called up on the hovering platform to throw a pair of dice and choose their next members.

In the VIP box, a morose Azazel turned to Michael with a grimace. “Well, that was disappointingly tame."

"But a fair win, nonetheless." Sirzechs maintained with a slight smile, even in defeat. "Tell me, what exactly do you want out of the peace treaty Michael?"

The leader of the Angels took his victory graciously, bowing to all present. “What I want from this alliance must be fairly obvious, I should think. Out of all the Factions, only the Angels grow lesser in number each year. The devils have their evil pieces, and the Fallen can reproduce as easily as humans. The only way for us to increase our number is through a difficult copulation ritual, which does not guarantee success or safety. Let's just say that procreating without lust is difficult for the best of us.”

He didn't look at Gabriel but I knew it was intended. And honestly, I couldn't blame his reasoning. How could anyone expect others to succeed where even Gabriel failed?

“If we are to unite as one," Michael continued. "I would ask Azazel and Lord Beelzebub’s help in finding another way to produce Angels. Even something like the Evil Pieces would be a great boon upon us.”

As the Faction leaders busied themselves in the discussion, I found myself no longer paying attention to them. Because finally, I knew how to go about interrogating my mother.

I decided I no longer cared about hiding my identity.

Under my will, the air around us slowly started swirling, thickening into an invisible wall. The familiarity of my power was like a blanket of comfort to me, and I quickly exercised my Authority to envelop me and Gabriel within an invisible bubble, stopping any sound from escaping.

Gabriel grew suspicious instantly, raising a hand to gently touch the sudden formation of the air bubble.

"Gabriel." I turned to my mother, my voice grim and incessant as I asked without preamble, "Are you happy here?"

Her suspicion switched to me instantly as she tilted her head to regard me with narrowed eyes. "...Am I happy here? That is not a question I would expect from you, Falbium. Did you have a sudden change of mind about politics perhaps?"

"I…don’t know.” I shook my head, banishing the momentary confusion to focus on what I wanted. “And I do not care. Please, Gabriel…I must know this. Are you happy here? Are you here by your own volition? Are the devils…is Ajuka Beelzebub keeping you a prisoner in the Underworld?”

The violet-eyes, so sharp and direct, peered within my soul, searching deep. The realization dawned on her almost immediately. "You are not Falbium at all, are you?"

I wanted to lie. I wanted to smile with my usual swagger and reassure her that she was just being paranoid.

"No."

I couldn't.

The silence grew stark, her eyes fixed upon me completely.

Just when I started preparing myself for the inevitable failure—ready to admit defeat and shed my facade—she leaned back with a satisfied nod. "Well, in that case, I wouldn't say I'm happy…but I have a purpose here. And I can never rest easy, or be happy, until I achieve it."

Turning back to the front, she snorted lightly. "And I do not know where you got the idea of my supposed incarceration. Had I wished to escape Hell, there would be little to stop me. Wouldn't be the first time either." Pausing, she glanced at me from the corner of her eyes. "I don't suppose you'll reveal who you are now? I must admit, I'm curious to know the one who managed to impersonate, and most likely incapacitate, a Satan."

Ignoring her question, I leaned closer to her, focusing on one part. "What purpose? The unity of the Three Factions?"

She glanced at the Satans beside her, and my Authority—extended to its limit since the start of this meeting—picked up on her desires instantly.

There wasn't a hint of fear within her, and nor did she secretly claw for freedom like a prisoner. If anything, there was almost something predatory in her gaze and desires.

I was mightily relieved that none of it was romantic or sexual.

"That is a part of it, yes." She said, turning back to me. "But the true purpose is mine to know, and yours—whoever you are—to never find out. At least, not until I know your truth."

As she turned to the next battle now raging on the screens, I leaned back in my chair, dropping the sphere of air around us to ponder over the situation.

The wave of relief and embarrassment that assaulted me was like an avalanche, jarring me out of my fears as I realized how foolish I had been. Of course Gabriel wouldn't just find a new family for herself. What on earth had I even been thinking?

Still, I was utterly relieved to know she wasn't being held a prisoner here, nor was she a servant of Beelzebub like I'd been imagining.

Though a part of me couldn't help but feel that I'd been overly paranoid about the entire thing. Sure, there was a chance the Devils would've masked their desires from me had they known of my coming. Knowing as little as I did about Demonic Power, I would've kept doubting them until I became certain of their character. But even then, there was simply no way they could've hid any dark truth for long. A god's authority wasn't easily denied.

Case in point was my current situation. With my Authority extended—as I stopped focusing so thoroughly on Gabriel—I could easily see now that Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub weren't the sort of people to imprison or force their authority over someone.

If anything, they both reminded me of Poseidon and Hades a little. A better version of Poseidon and Hades. Sirzechs seemed like a laid-back, fun-loving person whose only desire was to protect his family and people. He genuinely wished to see the Three Factions unite, to see this bitter rivalry come to an end, with absolutely no ulterior motive whatsoever.

Ajuka, on the other hand, preferred the solitude of his own lab. While he seemed to be enjoying the fight, his desire bent more towards going back to his mancave and fiddle with stuff. He also saw Sirzechs, Serafall, and me—or well, the real Falbium—as true friends, and wished nothing but success towards Gabriel's ambition. He did have hints of regret and deeper motive towards her, but none that involved anything remotely romantic or malicious.

'Why did I even have to go through all this trouble?'

Was it my own cowardice perhaps, tempting me to hide beneath a different mask? And what did I achieve with it exactly, besides only making things harder for myself?

Yet, I found myself incapable of completely regretting it. At least I had my peace of mind now, knowing things weren't as dark as I'd been fearing, knowing my doubts and uncertainties were nothing but empty fear of the unknown.

With my heart lighter than it had been since the start of this journey, I leaned forward to treat myself with some delicious food, my one true task here finally at an end.

Sadly, it was not to be.

The door to our room suddenly banged open for a third time that day, revealing three female figures hurriedly entering, faces set in desperate impatience and severe scowls.

I knew something was wrong when all three pairs of eyes instantly honed onto me.

The first one, I recognised immediately; the stunning maid of Sirzechs Lucifer making a comeback. The other two were a bit of a mystery to me, but almost as enchanting, with one of them being an honest to god cat-girl. With hazel-golden cat eyes and black cat ears, her exotic beauty would've called to me by itself, even had she not been wearing a black Kimono bared at the shoulders that left the ample cleavage of her gorgeously large mounds free to be feasted upon by my eyes.

'Observe'

Kuroka

Race: Devil (Reincarnated)

Tier: 5 (Ultimate-Class)

Level: 479

The other one was a blue-haired beauty that glared at me stoically. While dressed much more conservatively than the cat-woman, my eyes could easily trace her buxom curves through the black and white corset top that hugged her voluptuous body perfectly.

'Observe'

Cleria Belial

Race: Devil

Tier: 4 (High-Class)

Level: 398

"My Lords, Ladies." Grayfia announced without preamble as soon as they reached the table, bringing the show to a dramatic stop. "I'm afraid we must interrupt this evening with some bad news. We have an imposter in our midst."

Her eyes never strayed from my face.

'Well, fuck.'

"Cleria? Kuroka?" Gabriel stood up, addressing the two ladies behind Grayfia.

"My King." The blue-haired one bowed low, glancing at me with a frown. "I regret to inform you that Satan Asmodeus here is not who he says he is. The real Lord Asmodeus is currently in his mansion, having been knocked unconscious earlier today."

All eyes turned to me, though I couldn't help but snort at Gabriel's smirk and pointedly raised brows.

'She knew.' In fact, judging by her desire, she'd most likely been waiting for this. 'Clever woman.'

Unfortunately, this situation had the potential to get real explosive real soon if I did nothing about it. The way Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub were focused on me—empty of their smiles, visages grim and suspicious—did not bode well for my future.

"Knocked unconscious, you say?" Azazel cut in before I could explain myself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Without a prolonged battle that would leave this city destroyed? You must be powerful indeed. I doubt even I could replicate such a feat."

The Faction leaders were wary now, all slowly rising to their feet, looking ready to take me down together if needed.

"Would you like to explain yourself before you're imprisoned?" Gabriel asked neutrally.

With a sigh, I stood up slowly, forcing a disarming smile on my face as I raised my hands in peace. "Please, there is really no need for that. I am, after all, your soon to be ally…if you permit it, that is."

Surrounded by so many hostile forces, I would've expected myself to feel alarmed. But as I dropped the Mist from my face, all I felt was an ecstatic relief spreading through every inch of my bones. It was like the mere facade of Asmodeus had bound me in a shell of myself; an uncertain, angsty shell.

When I stepped in the room as the real me—ignoring all the frowning faces—I felt nothing but a deep assurance in myself. A confidence I felt only in being a god.

'The worst comes to worst, I could always transform into lightning and dive away deeper into Hell.'

Though a part of me couldn't help but imagine what a battle between me and Lucifer, or Beelzebub, would look like. They may be faster, stronger, and more powerful, but what could they do, should I simply command them to kneel?

After all, Divine Authority was something unique to gods, just like Demonic Power was unique to devils. Could I, for even a second, match an Authority-less entity whose raw power matched a Supreme God's? I was the god of Holy Power in the end, the biggest weakness of Devils. Could my Authority over Holy Power bridge a hundred points in Spirit?

I did not know, and sadly this really wasn't the time to find out.

With a small flourish, I let my majestic wings uncurled, all six of them spanning several meters wide tip to tip.

I could see the surprise on the faces of all gathered, the ones nearest me taking a step back at the sudden arrival of my glowing wings. Though my wings weren't the only thing that seemed to shock them, as I felt multiple eyes scanning my face carefully. I was gratified to know Grayfia was one of them, looking nowhere near as unaffected as she'd been earlier.

With a casual step into the air, I tugged myself upon a throne of air, towering above them all.

"My name is Mikael Gabrielson. And I’m a god of Olympus." I intoned, flaring my divinity around me for but a moment. Not enough to take my Divine Form, but just enough for my Divine aura to confirm the truth of my words and give it a touch of gravity. "I’ve come before you as an envoy of the Olympians, sent by Zeus bearing a message of great importance. You may have heard of me."

I could see almost every devil, except my mother—who simply stood there, eyes fixed—flinching away at my power, the blue-haired one seemingly affected the most. Even Lucifer and Beelzebub had taken an alarmed step back as my Holy Power washed over the room. Of course, my control over it was absolute, and no devil came to any true harm under it.

But it was a powerful sight to witness, nonetheless.

Unfortunately, arrogance and dominance was a luxury I couldn't exercise right now. Not only was I here on a mission of recruitment, but I was in the presence of two beings who were higher Tiered than me.

So I stepped down graciously, done with my dramatic introduction. "I apologize for my deception, though rest assured I have no intention to harm any of you." Summoning Zeus' decree from my inventory, I let it drift upon a wave of wind, bringing it in front of Lucifer. "I do not know if my father sent news of my arrival beforehand, but he has written a letter for you, explaining the coming peril. Difficult times are ahead of us, and as much as I would like to enjoy your festival, without deception this time, I'm afraid you might have to cut it short for now."

There was a deep silence for a scant few seconds as Sirzechs read the letter with a cautious gaze, keeping one eye on me.

Thankfully however, there were some in the room who did appreciate my presence.

"Little brother!"

Unfortunately, that 'some' happened to be Azazel.

"Not so little anymore it seems." The clown came sauntering towards me, a wide smile fixed on his face. "Nonetheless, what a surprise! A marvelous entry, if I do say so myself. Sitting here, fooling everyone, only for a dramatic reveal. I especially liked the whole 'I'm the winged-god of Olympus, bow before me mortals!' thing that you did back there."

I smiled thinly, a twitch in my right eye. "Azazel. A great displeasure to see you alive again. It's been what, five, six years? Can't believe how much smaller you look now."

One of the Angels at the back barked a sudden laugh.

Azazel glanced at him with a frown. "Raphael, my dear brother. May I remind you that you're even smaller than me?"

"Ahem." Before the Angel could retort, Michael put a hand over his shoulder, turning to me. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Mikael. I have heard much about you." Hesitating, he glanced at Gabriel—who was still standing like a frozen statue, unheeding of the two female devils beside her—before turning back to me. "Though I couldn't help but notice that your power feels…incredibly similar to our Father, the God."

All the Angels and Fallens perked up. Even Azazel tilted his head, frowning.

Before our line of conversation could head anywhere however, Sirzechs finished reading the letter, intoning grimly. "This is grave news." His eyes flickered through a specific part of the letter again. "Grave news indeed."

Sighing, he passed the letter to Ajuka, addressing me anew with a tired eye. "Before we discuss this however, I must ask…why did you come to our world hiding behind a false face?"

I grimaced, stuck between weaving a new story or telling the truth. A hesitant glance at Gabriel, and I came upon the decision. "I'll admit…I came here with distrust in my heart, for you and your peers. I did not trust you to treat my mother well, and I would’ve continued to distrust you until I confirmed her safety with my own eyes, without giving my presence away. I had meant no harm though, and I can only apologize for any insult given.” I paused, remembering the murder I’d committed. “Well, except for that one Devil I killed. He was an absolute prick.”

“I thought so too!” The cat-woman piped up from behind Grayfia.

“Kuroka!”

"Well, this has certainly been an eventful night." Sirzechs Lucifer clapped his hand, smiling at everyone present. "I think, in the light of recent events, the actions of our young guest here can be excused for now. We will address the rest of the issues at a later time."

"I agree." Ajuka Beelzebub spoke up, seeming to surprise all the devils as he handed the letter back to Lucifer. "Postpone the rest of the event for tomorrow. We will continue the Festival and discuss all that needs to be discussed then. For now, it is time we stop intruding upon a reunion."

With a last nod at me, Ajuka took his leave, walking straight out the door without any preamble.

That seemed to be the cue for others, and the VIP box found itself emptying at a rapid pace. Michael gave me a polite nod and a promise to talk later, while Azazel clapped me on the back, giving me a smirking wink.

‘The bastard.’

Soon enough, there were only two people left in the room, and I found the daunting task of greeting my mother—this time under my true identity—once again staring me in the face.

"Mikael…" The whisper was soft, and so filled with disbelief and hope that it burned within my heart something fierce.

'No more hiding.'

I turned to her with a smile that I hoped didn't betray my nervousness, opening my mouth to make some clever quip that would wash away the tension building in my chest...

I need not have bothered. For the next second I was assaulted by a shower of blonde as two strong hands enveloped me in a sudden embrace; her curtain of beautiful hair tickling my nose, and her body pressed up tight against me, smelling of vanilla and lavender. There was a dire sense of desperation in her arms as they held me in a vice-like grip, trembling fingers digging into my back.

"Mikael." Her voice was stronger now, still barely a whisper, but easily disarming me of my every hesitation. “My sweet child.”

Before I could even make sense of what I was doing, I found myself returning her embrace with an even greater intensity, picking her right off of the floor. “Mother.” My own voice was barely any more stable than hers, and I could feel my eyes burning as harshly as my heart.

I pressed my lips against her silken hair, feeling every curve of her voluptuous body fit against me like a great puzzle finally completing. Pure euphoria and joy filled my mind, my heart thudding within my chest with such force that I was sure she could feel it against her squashed, titanic breasts.

She felt absolutely perfect in my arms. My beautiful Angel, once again with me, as it was meant to be.

I slowly lowered myself on my knees, still holding onto Gabriel, her face buried in my neck, seeming to breathe in my scent deeply, reassuring herself of my existence. The sheer intensity of her desires overwhelmed my senses for a brief moment; the desperate need to hold onto me, to never let go, the excruciating fear of losing me again, as if I would turn to mist and disappear in front of her very eyes…

A part of me couldn’t help but be gratified, knowing that our separation hadn’t been agonizing for me alone.

I could feel her body shaking against me in silent, relieved sobs, slight tremors erupting through her nerves as she did her best to crush me in her embrace. Her strength was so great that for a brief second, I forced myself to be distracted, observing her stats.

Gabriel

Race: Devil (Reincarnated)

Tier: 8 (Super-Class)

Level: 742

Holy Power: 38,400,00/38,400,00

Demonic Power: 3,840,000/3,840,000 (Peak-Ultimate Class)

Stamina: 36,950,000/36,950,000

Health: 37,300,00/37,300,00

Stats

Strength: 740

Speed: 741

Dexterity: 745

Endurance: 739

Constitution: 746

Mental: 64

Spirit: 768

‘Holy fuck…why on earth did I not observe her before?’

My mother matched a True God in Tier. It had to be a coincidence on how close she was to me in levels, though I found myself even more surprised by her Spirit. She was already more powerful than half of the Olympians.

After a second of serious consideration, I dismissed my surprise. I had better things to do currently.

Mainly, getting lost in the surreality of the moment, enjoying the way my mother felt in my arms.

I didn’t know how long we spent in the VIP room, silent and unmoving, simply holding onto each other with desperate abandon, reassuring the reality to ourselves.

I just wanted to drown in her embrace forever, to forget all about the coming war and my mission in Hell. Now that I knew how overwhelming her love for me still was, I realized I could simply spend the rest of my life with her, perhaps here in Hell, ruling over the Devils and Fallens. With Zeus’ compulsion no longer over me, I had no need to fight the wars of a fractured pantheon.

Although I recognized its impossibility, I allowed myself to indulge in the fantasy.

Sooner or later, I would unlock all my wings and become a Supreme God, I didn’t need a war for that to happen. Then Gabriel and I could unite the Three Factions, and I would take the position of God. Azazel and Michael would be my Heralds, ruling their factions in my name, and Gabriel would be my queen. Perhaps one day, she would know of my lust and ambition, and accept me with open arms. And with her by my side, maybe I would conquer a country or two on earth as well, while fully exploring the mysteries of this world…

It was a good dream.

Sadly, a dream it would remain forever.

Eventually, Gabriel's sobs subsided—the tears staining my clothes—and her desire, so raw and sharp, almost overpowered me again, bringing me back to Hell as she shifted against me.

Leaning back to stare at me in full, her tearful eyes tried to memorize every part of my face, before finally meeting my eyes. "Kael…you are really here." Her hand, so warm and soft, came to caress the side of my face. "I can feel you. Or is this all but a cruel dream?"

I palmed her hand with my own, kissing the tips of her fingers softly. "If it is a dream, then it is one we're sharing together."

She looked so broken through her tears as she whispered in an agonizing whine. “But I don't want it to end."

With my thumb, I swept her tears away, pressing my crown against hers to let our brows meet, my eyes peering deep within the violet orbs. "And it won't. I won't let it, I promise you. Just like I promised you we will meet again one day.” My other hand roamed her back comfortingly, mapping her body with a gentle touch, from the curve of her neck to the small of her back. ”I just didn't expect that day to come even sooner than was promised. But now that I’m here, you can rest assured that I won’t be going back soon. Not without making sure we can meet again, at least.”

She sniffed softly, before nodding jerkily.

As it became clear I wasn’t going anywhere, she finally relaxed against me, her emotions calming to a gentle stream instead of the chaotic spikes of Tsunami that they’d been.

The hesitant smile that slowly split her face brightened my world by another degree.

"I'm sorry, that was unbecoming of me." She whispered softly against my chest. "But I missed you so much. Every day without you was a silent agony. Don't leave me again? Please?"

Snorting, I kissed her forehead gently. "I won't. Zeus has declared his eight years complete, so I'm free to do whatever I wish. You wouldn't be rid of me now even if you wanted to."

"Well, I would never want that. So that means you're stuck with me forever."

I shrugged. "Fine by me."

Glancing up at me with the same gentle smile that I’d grown up seeing, she brushed my long hair back from my face. "I'm glad you're here, Kael. You've grown so tall so soon. And so much more handsome than I've ever imagined."

Smirking, I quirked an eyebrow. "Imagined me often, did you?"

Surprisingly, she flushed a deep red, her eyes straying from mine as she glanced away briefly, before meeting me again with a more somber gaze. "Kael, about earlier today…I'm sorry I snapped at you. I didn't mean to hurt you, you know that. I could never hurt you. I just, it—"

"It is fine, mother.” I pressed a finger against her lips, momentarily distracted by how soft they felt. Shaking myself, I addressed her again. “You couldn't have known it was me. Besides, Asmodeus deserves every bit of your contempt. Met the guy, let's just say I wasn't impressed."

She shook her head, smiling. “Will you come with me? I fear we’ve been here longer than expected.”

“Of course, mother. Anything for you."

She flushed even deeper.

This time, I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. I couldn’t have mistaken her desires twice, could I?

‘Perhaps…’

True to her words, by the time we straightened up again, the stadium outside was bereft of its audience, all the screens having gone dark.

Gabriel didn’t waste time in forming a Teleportation Circle on the ground, though never once letting go of my hand.

By now I was growing almost used to it, but I still couldn’t help but observe carefully as the space split apart, under a much greater Authority this time.

The Teleportation circle took us to a bedroom, with Gabriel still not letting go of my hand, her desires making it clear that she had no intention to either.

Luckily for her, that was one desire we shared equally.

The bedroom that we appeared in was a luxurious one, and a single scan through my senses let me know that Gabriel’s residence far outstripped Asmodeus’ mansion. The Moon’s silvery radiance trickled through an open window, bathing the room in an ethereal glow—I got a feeling that Asmodeus may not have been particularly careless by leaving his own windows open, as much as enjoying the privilege of the strong.

With my hands still clasped tightly in her grasp, Gabriel led me straight to the bed without any explanation, and I soon found myself lying on a mattress of soft clouds, my head cradled in my mother’s lap. Along with the moon’s gentle rays falling on my face and a healthy wave of breeze cooling me, it was the most relaxed I’d felt in a long, long while.

As the violet eyes peered down at me, I once again felt the presence of something deeper in her desires, hiding from my senses. Something I'd felt in Hera. Something I'd felt earlier twice.

It was gone in a flash, and like before, I concluded it to be nothing but wishful thinking on my part. It was too convenient, and my heart was too tired from the emotional rollercoaster to receive such a hopeful present awaiting me so soon. But what truly kept me from hoping too much was the fear of pain and bitter disappointment that I would feel should it all be a foolish misunderstanding.

So as I settled in her lap, sighing in satisfaction as her fingers massaged my scalp, I put it all to rest—though not out of my mind.

"Now tell me." Staring down at me, Gabriel intoned with great gravity. "What has my son been doing in America?"

And so I told her.

I found out that night that Gabriel made for an excellent audience. She sat on the bed patiently, fingers trailing through my long hair, as I regaled her with my adventures. Meeting Thalia and Annabeth, joining Camp Half-Blood, the Battle of Monsters, losing Thalia—I didn’t tell her of Thalia’s revival, silently enjoying being hugged into her heavenly breasts in her attempts at comfort—meeting Hestia and Zeus, gaining Stormbreaker—which was inspired by her gift— defeating Ladon, the many demigods I’d rescued, and on and on…

She made appropriately impressed noises every once in a while, even in something so small as creating a new Divine skill, asking questions to fill in my distracted silences…

By the time I’d finished, the night had grown deeper and the moon had shied away behind a pair of clouds. I didn’t tell her everything of course, that would’ve taken too long if my sexual conquests were included.

Her Peerage members came to ask upon her in the middle but were instantly turned away, and for once, I was happy about it. No matter how voluptuous her servants were, this night belonged to us.

After my tale had ended, she gave a deep, forlorn sigh. “Ahh, my son…completing grand quests, felling legendary monsters and gods, meeting Aphrodite herself. Why do you even want me around? How could I compete with a goddess such as her to keep you to myself?”

"Well, she was also the same goddess who tried to seduce me and was promptly rejected. Now if it was you in her place…" I wiggled my eyebrows.

Her face went completely serious for a brief moment. "What would you do?"

Once again, I felt the same desire brew within her for a brief second, and this time I did not put it out of my mind, even as Gabriel laughed the very next moment, brushing it away.

This time, I let myself hope.

I didn't know how long I spent in her arms, just being held by her, knowing she was there with me, feeling her love—so incredibly strong that I could drown happily in its depth—falling in love with her all over again as she started regaling me of her own adventures, before sleep finally caught me.

It was the most comfortable sleep I’d gotten since leaving Japan.

----------------------------

As the dawn's first light hit the devilish grounds of Bael city, Grayfia Lucifuge arrived at the doorstep of Gabriel's mansion to collect me; a summons from Ajuka Beelzebub, wanting to discuss my situation, amongst other vital topics.

A part of me wanted to dismiss the summons and spend the rest of the day buried in my angel's arms, but now that my first objective was done, I needed to get on with my next; rallying forces for Olympus.

So with the artificial Sun slowly growing larger in the firmament, I joined the female devil for a walk through the Bael streets.

"I'm surprised you came to pick me up." I commented offhandedly, peering around the posh neighborhood. "Do you work for Beelzebub as well?"

She glanced at me for a long second before answering. "I volunteered."

"Really? Consider me flattered."

She pursed her lips, frowning. "I am the only one you have talked to for an appreciable period of time. It was decided I would be the best for this."

I scrunched up my face. 'Did I really?'

That sounded like an extremely weak excuse, but I wasn't complaining.

Deciding to continue upon my last night's quest—even if just to see her perfect composure break for a second—I turned to the Devil maid with a smirk, wiggling my eyebrows. "Ooor, it could be that I left a very lasting impression last night and you simply couldn't stay away."

"It could be," She maintained. "But it is not."

Though I couldn't help but notice her desires weren't as immune to my quips as they'd been the last night. 'A pretty face does make a difference, no matter how old and wise you are…'

Their walk proved to be a short one, as a little away from Gabriel's mansion, Grayfia teleported us straight inside Beelzebub's manor.

"Directly inside his house?" I couldn't help but ask, glancing around the high ceilings of a fairly plain looking residence. "You knocked on Gabriel's doors."

"You are expected here. I was not."

But I noticed a badly suppressed glint of jealousy within her.

Sensing blood, I pressed her on. "You also waited until we were a distance away from her mansion before Teleporting. Any particular reason?"

"It is polite." She answered simply.

'Damn, she's good.'

As she led me up the grand stairs, I couldn't help but realize there was a strange tenseness between us, missing the sense of easy camaraderie that I'd shared with her as Asmodeus.

"Say," I put a finger under my chin in mock thought. "I couldn't have offended you yesterday by any means, right?"

She gave me a non-committal glance. "It is nothing you need concern yourself with, my lord."

"Hmm…you know, 'My god' would be a more appropriate way to address me than 'My lord', don't you think?"

"You're not my god." Grayfia replied bluntly.

"Please, I'm the god of all that is holy." I scoffed, suppressing a smirk. "And you, Miss Grayfia," I looked at her tits pointedly. "Are very holy indeed."

She rolled her eyes but the smile on her face was enough to let me know it was a success. Just...not a smashing success.

"How can someone so lecherous be a god?" She shook her head, though her smile didn't diminish. "This is foolish."

"Oh, honey," I stared at her pitifully. "Never met a god in your life, have you?"

Huffing, she led me through an open arched entrance, waving at the empty room. "Lord Asmodeus shall be with you shortly. Please make yourself comfortable."

Without another word, she turned around to leave.

I kept my eyes on her plump rear, watching it sway under her french uniform. A few steps down the stairs, Grayfia stopped and peered behind.

Winking, I gave her a thumb's up.

She was visibly more conscious of her gait for the rest of her way down the stairs.

----------------------------

“You wished to speak?”

The mansion of Ajuka Beelzebub was almost as grand as Gabriel’s, which in itself was an unusual thing for certain, considering the Satan currently outranked my mother in the Devil's totem pole.

I sat upon his cushioned couch like I owned the place, holding a glass of white wine that I’d poured for myself, having personally picked the bottle from his varied collection on display.

The devil didn’t react to my actions. In fact, had I not been the god of Desires, I would’ve believed him to be a dead doll capable of expressing only one emotion: boredom.

“Walk with me.” Satan Beelzebub commanded without preamble, turning around instantly.

Humming, I stayed sprawled over the couch, considering the merit of following what sounded like a clear order. While the Satan was a league above me in power, I was a representative of Olympus. It wouldn't do to let him lead in what could easily be a long and drawn out negotiation.

Plus, knowing my mother was actively working against him had managed to dissolve any form of goodwill my mind had been forming for the man, and I might've felt the need to be a touch more petty.

“It will not take long.” The Satan inclined his head politely, surprising me slightly.

His desires were an interesting matter to ponder over.

‘And here I thought we’d start with a dick measuring contest.’ Though I should’ve probably gotten some clues from his desires yesterday.

Ajuka Beelzebub seemed not to give a flying fuck about egos and pride that were so common amongst gods. Even I liked to indulge in it occasionally…which was most of the time, but who was counting?

But not Beelzebub. All he wanted was to talk with me.

‘Great.’

Giving him a nod, I took a long sip from the glass and placed it back on the table, standing up to follow after the devil.

He led me to the top of the highest floor of his mansion, up the terrace balcony that gave a decent view over the city of Bael’s.

Perhaps it was a sign of my insecurity, but I found myself absently comparing the devil to me. And, perhaps, it was a sign of my arrogance, but I found him woefully…lacking.

He wasn’t ugly by any means, but his looks were hardly envious. His stature was fairly flaccid, and while the casual disinterest glinting in the depths of his eyes might hint at a certain self-confidence, without the aura of power that had shrouded him yesterday, there was nothing to suggest even the slightest bit of his strength. I, of course, knew what a monster he truly was, but for the most, he might as well have been a Low-class Devil with a noble bearing.

To me, Ajuka Beelzebub looked like a powerful being, but with no ambition of using the said power.

And I respected that completely. I wouldn't have a problem with him, just as long as he kept out of my dear mother's mission, whatever it may be—she'd been strangely reticent about her end goal—and let her go free from his Peerage.

"You came to our home without permission.” Beelzebub spoke, jumping straight to the point.

Not one to waste time on formalities, this one.

"As an imposter, no less." He continued. "You had a noble motive, I wouldn't deny that. A mother's safety is every son's duty, and you do not know us enough to judge our character. But your actions led to the death of a Devil and injuries to many."

I frowned, feeling a nugget of concern. "Is Asmodeus alright?"

While I didn't like the Devil, I'd meant no harm to him either.

Ajuka paused, before giving a single nod. "He is. But thirteen Mid-Class Devils are not. Twelve were left permanently scarred by your Holy power, and I've received the news that you've left one mentally broken in Paimon City. He will recover, the trauma is easy to heal, but others won't."

I nodded slowly, feeling a sense of lightheadedness spread through me.

All of that was true. The strange thing was, I never even thought about them again, after the deed was done.

How was it, that I'd felt so much guilt and sadness for the humans killed in my battle against Hercules, when the fault wasn't even my own, but felt so little guilt for the innocents I'd knowingly harmed yesterday? Did my quest for Gabriel really make me that blind to everything else?

I was beginning to think, for all my contempt for Greeks, I was slowly becoming one of them.

For a second I wondered if the Satan was trying to use my sudden guilt for his own purposes, but a single look at his desires extinguished such notions.

Still, I wasn't about to do a self-reflection here, in front of a stranger.

Pursing my lips, I addressed the Satan with a frown. "My actions were reckless and motivated by impatience. Bring the injured devils to me and I will remove the influence of Holy power from them. You can heal them normally after that, yes?"

Raising an eyebrow, the Satan nodded. "We can, and that would certainly be appreciated. Your control over Holy power is stronger than I'd thought."

I tilted my head. "Of course. I am the god of Holy power, after all.

He blinked. "I…was unaware. I suspected it, but your Domains are a mystery for many. Nonetheless, that is not the point I'd wished to make."

I shrugged. "I cannot do much for the death, unfortunately. I'm not a god of rebirth."

Sighing, Ajuka turned to gaze at the vastness of the city. "Balthazar's death is understandable. He would've been killed by the Phenex either way, most likely before the end of this month. There is not much to be done for the folly of youth, and it is not me you must answer to for the crime. The Baels would try to contact you soon, I should guess. No, my concern is for something different."

Turning back to me, he fixed me with a hawk-eyed stare. "You want your mother freed from me, do you not? You want her out of my Peerage?"

I nodded cautiously, trying to work out his angle.

"Then I shall make it so. You may register yourself as a King and receive a Peerage of your own, and I shall trade Gabriel to you in return for a free Piece."

"What."

Ajuka shrugged. "Deny it if you must, but you are as much a Devil as you’re a god. It won't be difficult for you to receive a Peerage."

I shook my head. "That is not what I meant. I want to know…why? Why would you give her away without anything in return? Why would you even let me have a Peerage after what I've done?"

"Why not? Gabriel does not wish to be in my Peerage any longer, forcing her to stay is foolish and unwarranted. And I am not giving you a Peerage for free. I do want something in return."

I frowned. "Name it."

For the first time since I met him, I saw Ajuka Beelzebub smirk. "I wish to take you as my student, Mikael Gabrielson."

I was left utterly floored.

Shaking my head, I scrunched up my face. “If your goal was to baffle me, congratulations, you’ve succeeded.”

“An understandable conclusion, but no. The reason I make this offer...is because I wish to know you."

“Ahh…that explains everything.” I nodded slowly. “Don’t have a marriage proposal hidden around here somewhere, do you?”

"No, I do not. I wish to know you…to test your character, understand your motives, and to judge your worth.” He raised a brow. “Are you surprised by my honesty?”

He turned around, slowly walking the length of the terrace. “Let me be blunt, Mikael Gabrielson. I have foreseen many futures for my Faction, and almost every single one of them entangles with you at a certain point. And almost every single one ends badly. I have seen realities where your mother dies in her attempts to subdue our Factions, and you wreck your vengeance upon us all. I have seen futures where you grow too bold in offending our people; sleeping with their wives and daughters, and wipe out our Faction when conflict inevitably brews. I have foreseen futures where I succeed in killing you, only for your mother to grow powerful beyond imagination and exterminate the entire race of devils, from me and Sirzechs, to a child not even a day old. I have also seen futures where we succeed in killing you and your mother, only to have Olympus crack down upon us in fury and vengeance. How they survive the coming war, I still do not know. The Fates hide the Greeks behind their withered hands zealously.”

He paused momentarily. “There are, of course, futures where you and your mother simply go your way, and our paths do not cross. I prefer them to such calamities."

I followed after him like a zombie, his words giving me much to think about. From his desires, I knew what he said was true, or at least what he believed to be true, but it gave me no satisfaction.

‘Gods, it’s too early for this shit.’

Stopping at the end of the terrace, Beelzebub slowly turned to face me. "But I have also seen futures where you do stay, and your abilities usher our Factions into a new era of peace. Where you help us grow as a species, from curing diseases even I have given up on, to solving our population implosion. This is why I've chosen the path of honesty with you. My purpose, Mikael, has always been the betterment of my people, and an everlasting peace. You could say I am quite unique amongst my people, in that unlike other Devils, I do not tire of peace or a lack of conflict. As long as I can spend my time researching, I am content. Who rules these lands truly does not matter to me. It does, however, matter to my friend, which is why I have kept quiet about your mother's plans."

Then a fire seemed to ignite within his eyes, the aura of power once again shrouding him whole. "Never mistake my silence for ignorance, Mikael. Gabriel, for all her power and intelligence, could never have hidden her intentions from me. But I have seen what comes of conflict, and so I offer you this; be my student for as long as I need, show me who you are; flaws and strengths, and I promise you my support in uniting the three Factions..."

"I do not wish to do this, you understand? I do not like governing the devils. I do not like making plans behind my best friend’s back. I would rather not be involved in this at all. But I find myself in a unique position of power, where I can help all the parties involved.”

Extending a hand to me, the Satan cocked his head. "So what say you, Mikael, God of Olympus? Would you be interested in learning the arts of Demonic Power as my student?"

There was only one answer to that.

I took his hand.

----------------------------

AN: Aaaand done! My biggest chapter yet again, hopefully you lot enjoyed! 

Not much action here, but a lot of character development. Plus quite a bit of angst from Mikael. Those who disliked that aspect of him, rest assured it isn't a regular thing.

Anyway, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you all soon. Peace!

P.S: Sorry for the humongous chaps, I'll try to keep the next one around 12k and get it out quicker. 

Comments

Ahmed Ayub

Eagerly waiting for SOW

Gilgamos

Next update when?