The sky begins to darken considerably, ominous clouds forming above the forest as Alduin's body swells with power, his wings unfurled and lightning streaking across his form as he stomps the ground.
Following suit, I place a hand to my head and summon the Doppelganger, his own copy of the Rebellion crossing against mine as Alduin's cries reach almost deafening volumes. Tension slowly rising, we do nothing but stare one another down, waiting for even the slightest itch of movement.
Unfortunately for Alduin, I am not a patient man, nor do I make any claims to be.
-1049MP!
Gravity Magic coats my hand as I slam Alduin down into the ground, his three heads hopelessly struggling to move as he flails his wings. The Doppelganger moves in immediately after, his blade drawing a shallow cut into each of their necks.
Alduin flies up a second too late, another slash made against the underside of his chin as he swats the Doppelganger away, Gravity Magic no longer taking effect.
He then floats for a moment, staring at me. I can already see just how pissed off I've made him by forcing him to kneel. That fury only grows as I command the Doppelganger to follow around him like a fly, making small stabs every few seconds, keeping him distracted.
My goal isn't to hurt him terribly. I know just how annoying pain can be, despite how swift the regeneration that follows is. No, this is about showing Alduin how many times I could've wrung the life from him.
Or, at least, how many times I could've made a good attempt. I don't know the limits of his regeneration, and I can't bring myself to try. I don't wanna hurt my boy too badly, after all.
Now, where was I? Right. Curbing this little shit's ego.
A Sonido brings me face to face with him in the blink of an eye, his arm mid-swipe on the Doppelganger. Shock turns to vitriol in his eyes as a bolt of lightning falls down on me, missing my only a hair.
Not wanting to give him a second chance, I draw out my wing and swing the Rebellion, constantly moving forward. While I swing against his front, the Doppelganger swings on his wings, leaving Alduin forced to juggle two blades, his claws barely able to block a few strikes out of every five.
Something in my head burns, a sharp sting the only warning I get before a jaw tries to tear a piece of my head off. With no time to dodge, I make the best of what I have.
My fist crashes into his eye with all the force of a speeding truck, his neck writhing, each mouth screeching in tandem. To my surprise, Alduin then begins to shake for a moment, his body welling with power.
Expecting some form of self detonation or a Magic bomb, I Sonido away and dismiss the Doppelganger, watching on with rapt attention as Alduin's wings almost seem to glow, his wounds now vanished.
I see. He drew upon his Mana to bait me, make me thing he had something big planned so he could take a moment to regenerate. Not bad, but not helpful for him in the long run. What else do you have in store for me, o' dragon mine?
My question is answered almost instantly as Alduin's posture shifts, his hind legs extended fully as he stands tall, now bipedal and with both of his claws extended.
With new vigor, Alduin flies directly into me, slashing wildly like an animal. Each swing seems to almost cut the air itself, the sharpness of those talons not something I'd be willing to test as he screams violently.
Each blocked strike shakes my bones to the core, the Rebellion more than enough to hold strong against Alduin's rapid frenzy. I almost can't keep up with him using only the one arm, something that shocks me considering just how much AGI I have.
Not wanting him to keep the momentum, I pull back and take hold of the Rebellion with both hands, infusing the blade with a portion of my Mana as I wait a split-second for the next strike.
-240MP!
-240MP!
Taking a breath, I relax my body and let my power flow freely through the Rebellion. Just as Alduin's talons come into my field of view, inches away from tearing my arm off, I Parry his claw aside and stab forward.
My body doesn't just move, it blurs, the pressure of my strike enough that the wind changes direction for a brief moment. The stinger misses Alduins chest, instead slicing open a small part of his breast as the blade passes by, only a glancing blow.
4 strikes.
Now positioned just a hair away, I dismiss the Rebellion and settle for fists, quickly raising my own arms to block Alduin's clenched fist as he tries to slam me down into the ground. Not satisfied with the one punch, his fists continue to crash into my arms, determined to break my guard.
With my arms occupied, Alduin's heads once again try and take a bite of me, something I stop handily with the Doppelganger's reappearance. The Spectral clone is then forced to turn and bat away Alduin's tail aimed at my wing, a cheap shot.
They learn so quickly.
Jumping over me, the Doppelganger evens the score by summoning his Caduceus and slashing at Alduin's wings, the wounds enough to force his attention to shift, his fists now directed at my clone.
"Wrong move, Alduin!" I shout, lifting myself just a meter higher as I pull back my fist.
The one head focused on me screams, gathering the other two's attention, and shock quickly becomes horror as Alduin realises he can't react in time. I can't stop myself from grinning as my fist flies through the air, time passing in slow motion as power swells in my arm.
A small shockwave is sent out from the point of contact, every tree and bush in the surrounding area blowing wildly as the blast kicks up. A second shockwave occurs after Alduin crashes violently into the ground, the very land beneath us shaking for a moment.
Proud of my handiwork and nursing an aching wrist, I float down to the impact site and see Alduin standing on unsteady legs, having to use all four just to stay up. He snarls, no longer enjoying our little spat as a broken wing cracks and realigns itself.
"You're quite strong, Alduin, much stronger than I'd anticipated. I think I actually enjoyed that. Good job."
He doesn't seem pleased with the compliment, instead kicking his feet into the floor as he stares at me, anger growing with each second.
"Are you sure such force was necessary, Master?" Grayfia says as she appears from the treeline, almost exasperated.
Turning to her, I let Yaoshi's Blessing heal my fractured knuckles and cross my arms, smiling as I respond.
"A stress test is the best type of test. It's how Serafall taught me to survive."
Her frown deepens, gaze shifting to Alduin as his heads argue amongst one another for a moment. She sighs, moving over to me and taking hold of my hand, checking for injury.
"Just try to be gentler next time. He's still only young." She murmurs, her fingers trailing over my now healed bones.
"Of cour-"
My response is interrupted by Alduin shoving himself between us, his three heads wrapping around Grayfia as they coo and point themselves aggressively at me. She giggles and strokes his horns, joining in as she glares at me playfully.
"I know, Alduin. Our Master is truly the worst of the worst."
Just when I think I've been mutinied against, Alduin starts chuckling, taking one last moment to bask in Grayfia's caress before slowly approaching me.
His tails shift along the grass, heads staring with eager anticipation. I can't stop myself from smiling as I place a hand atop one of his heads and rub it softly.
"Like I said. You did well, especially for how young you are. I'm proud of you, Alduin."
My words seem to sate his desire for praise, his heads fighting for a spot nuzzling against my palm. Noting her sudden silence I turn to Grayfia, only to see her watching Alduin and I wistfully, almost entranced.
Part of me is content to stay in this moment just a bit longer, but I do need to make my way to Lilith soon. I've got a tight schedule to meet with Zekram.
"As fun as this has been Alduin, I think you should get some rest. I know I'd want to take a nap after I got flattened like you did."
Taking great offense to my words, his jaws start snapping threateningly in my direction, hissing all the while as he does so. The sight alone is enough to make me laugh, something which only makes him even more frustrated, his tails slapping the ground.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was just making a joke. I mean it, though. Take a break."
He pauses, as if considering it for a moment, before Grayfia's hand finds itself around his head and he relents almost instantly. In less than a second, Alduin stands and stretches himself to his full height, almost that of a giraffe, and flies away.
"I'll never understand why he cares about you so much more than me. I was literally there for his birth." I grumble.
Grayfia chuckles, having moved over to my side without my notice as she leans against my shoulder, her hand snaking into my own.
"I think he cares for you more than anything in the world. You just can't see it is all."
Her warmth, her soft words. Yet again I find myself struggling to leave her.
"He's got a funny way of showing it. Did you see how he was trying to slice me in two? He's a tenacious little bastard, I'll give him that."
"I wonder where he got that from, Master?" She says, smirking almost. With no response, all I can do is accept my loss.
"...Touché."
Her smirk turns into laughter, a sound that I'm sure gives me another 30 years of life every time I hear it, her smile enough to give me all the strength I'll ever need in dealing with Zekram's shit.
Unable to stop myself, I turn slightly and lift my free hand to her head, rubbing her hair as delicately as I can. I'm not sure where I developed this habit from, but seeing her cheeks heat up in response is all the incentive I've ever needed to continue.
My thumb trails the length of one of her braids as she leans into my delicate touch, her smile widening with each second as my hand shifts ever so slowly from her hair to her neck, something that causes her to shiver slightly. Eventually, my palm rests on her cheek, inches away from those hypnotising red lips.
"Did I ever tell you just how much I love that new lipstick of yours?" I say, watching the way her smile deepens ever so slightly.
"I suppose you could tell me..." She starts, murmuring softly, her thumb idly stroking my own on our conjoined hands as she continues.
"...but wouldn't you rather show me instead, Master?" She says, barely above a whisper.
Heat rises across my body as my own smile begins to match hers. The invitation is enough to turn my hesitance to eagerness, uncaring for any obligations I'd made for today as I pull her in for a kiss.
The first is a chaste thing, soft and tender yet so addictive. The second is hungrier, driven by a sudden flame of lust we both can't help but surrender to, the Devil blood within us going haywire.
After that, simple kisses just aren't enough. I quickly find myself wanting more of her, my hands shifting to her thighs as I lift her up and hold her against a nearby tree. She giggles luridly as I do so, before her arms follow suit around my neck.
...I'm sure Lord Bael wouldn't mind if I was just a few minutes late.
------------------------------------
It's 09:27. The meeting I had arranged over transmission with Zekram was at 09:00. I'm not even in Lilith yet, so I'm only going to lose even more time still. Basically, I fucked up. Bad.
Congratulations Alistair, you horny dog, you've played yourself.
[Don't worry, User, I'm sure there is an Item in the Store that can help you! Maybe one that can rewind time!]
...thank you for trying, Anya, but I'm afraid manipulating time is a bit out of my budget. I'll just have to live and learn this one. I've no one to blame but myself for this lashing I'm soon to receive anyways.
At the very lest, despite everything, I can safely say that I have no regrets. None whatsoever. Hell, I'm sure if she told me to kill the High Council I'd struggle to say no at this point, so smitten with her I am.
That's probably not a healthy thing, now that I think about it. Honestly, I'd wager the trauma of being tortured and held captive fucked up my brain in some way and now I'm just attached to her like I am Serafall, hopelessly devoted to a woman I owe my life to.
The dog comparison once again comes back to haunt me.
Throwing that thought aside, I finally catch sight of Lilith's sprawling civilization in the distance, almost looming over me as I fly towards it. Even after having seen it already, I still can't help but feel pure awe at the size and visage of the city.
Said awe isn't enough to distract me from slowing my approach though, not wanting to be shot out of the sky just as I reach her walls. The city is an explicit no-fly zone after all, and though I've broken a fair few rules in my time, I'd rather not get swatted like a bug.
So, with anticipation colouring my every step, I float down and begin the slow walk over to the main gates, making sure I'm not dishevelled in any way, and especially making sure my face is clean.
"Halt!"
My approach is stopped abruptly by a booming voice, one that I obey as I don't want to be labelled an enemy by accident.
From behind the safety of Falbium's barrier, the Satanihilus standing guard bark commands at me, suspicious of the lone traveller approaching the main entrance.
"Identify yourself!"
I try to raise my hands and show that I'm not a threat, but I forget that hands are integral to casting spells and only end up putting the Satanihilus even more on guard.
"My name is Alistair Mammon! I'm sure by now you've heard of me. I seek passage into the city, and I mean you no harm."
One of the guardsman seemingly appraises me for a moment, before something clicks in his head and recognition floods his eyes. The Devil looks to his friend, the speaker, and nods, a whispered word of approval being spoken.
...and yet, that still isn't enough for this boisterous Devil.
"Can you prove this claim?" He shouts, his hand raised and Mana slowly coalescing.
Just as I think I've been victim of identity theft or something worse, the gates swing open slowly, revealing the sauntering figure of one Roygun Belphegor.
She walks forward several meters, catching my gaze and giving me a wink before she turns to address the guardsmen.
"He's with me, gentlemen. Nothing to worry about here." She says, instantly diffusing any tension that was building.
Despite the save I am most certainly not happy to see her, nor her shit eating grin as she damn near glides her way to me. Seeing her up close again, I realise just how form fitting her armour is, practically nothing left to the imagination as every curve and swell is shown off. She even has a little tiara.
"You'll have to forgive Cecilus. Today's his first day as a guardsman." She says as I approach, gesturing back at the man on the wall who looks away ashamedly.
"You on the other hand..." She practically purrs, "...won't be getting any forgiveness. You've been a very naughty boy."
Her words come out as less than even a whisper, barely registered even with my enhanced hearing, so I decide to pay them no mind as she falls in step alongside me.
"I don't suppose there's a chance Lord Bael is feeling forgiving today?" I ask her, idly thumbing the Abyss Flower Icon.
Instead of giving me an answer, she settles for laughing at my situation, gesturing for the guards to close the gate as we enter the city proper. Devil's living their lives greet us in all directions, and to my shock a scant few of them recognise me as we walk past.
"So then, great Demi-fiend, what was so important that you kept Lord Bael waiting this long?" She probes, pointedly never answering my question still.
"...I was busy training."
It takes less than a second for her to see straight through me.
"Ha! Busy training he says. You're a terrible liar, Alistair. I can see it all over your face." She notes, looking smug as she holds her hands behind her back, sighing a moment later as she watches the people pass us.
"Truth be told, the Lord Bael isn't angry. If anything, he's almost impressed. Nary a single Devil in decades has made him wait this long. He admires your guts."
I admit, I didn't actually expect a straight answer from her. As Zekram's bodyguard, I thought I'd get nothing but cryptic words as she probed anything she could gleam from me. If anything she almost seems... friendly. I know better than to trust it.
"I'll keep that in mind when he condemns me to torture for a mere hour of waiting."
Somehow she finds those words amusing, damn near cackling in the open streets, Devil's shifting away from her path slightly.
"He's not that bad, Alistair. You're letting your trust issues speak for you." She says, now smiling at me after she calms herself.
"I don't have trust issues. I just don't trust him and the Council in particular, mainly in part because of the hatred I've faced for my blood and all the consequences it brings."
She tries to place a hand on my arm in some form of a comforting gesture after hearing that, something I immediately shut down as I swat her hand away.
Pausing for a moment, she then looks up at the High Court and murmurs her next words.
"He's not that bad once you get to know him. He's just like everyone else."
I can't help but scoff at the mere idea.
"Ah yes, just like everyone else, with everyone else being bloodthirsty, power hungry egomaniacs. How charming... Why would I trust your opinion anyways? You're practically being paid to say this."
To my surprise, she can't meet my eyes anymore, her smile dipping slightly.
"Our arrangement is one of mutual benefit. That's all there is to it."
...well, that's interesting. Is that real emotion, or is it fake, a ploy to endear me to Roygun over a shared distaste of Lord Bael?
"So you aren't being ordered to have this conversation? To pretend you care about what I have to say?" I ask, now approaching the entrance to the High Court.
Her somber tone is forgotten instantly, replaced by haughty laughter that is so blatantly fake I can only think my previous theory is correct.
"You're only giving me more proof that you have trust issues, Alistair. Not everyone is out to get you." She says airily, trying to impart some sage wisdom and move on from her brief lapse.
"I don't need your psychoanalysis, Roygun. I know you've been given a mission involving me, it would be silly to assume otherwise."
"I assure you, that isn't the case. If it were, you'd be wrapped tight around my finger, desperate for my every touch." She says, a finger trailing along my shoulder.
I raise a brow, unimpressed. "Somehow I struggle to believe that."
"Oh, fine, you're spot on Demi-fiend! I've been ordered to sire your children and seduce you, all in the span of a single conversation!" She shouts sarcastically.
"...have you?"
Her frustration boils over and she groans, deciding that she's tired of talking to a brick wall. I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
"Ask Livandra at the front desk to take you to Lord Bael's office. I'll be waiting outside to see you off."
A bodyguard leaving her charge alone with an outsider over some petty squabble? Bullshit. What are you planning, Roygun?
She moves to leave, the two of us standing just outside the High Court's entrance, however a moment passes with no movement on her end before she turns back and looks me in the eyes.
"You'll never truly live your life if you spend every moment afraid of what could be, Alistair."
I don't get time to respond before she turns and leaves, but that's fine. Chances are this was all an attempt at garnering sympathy, at making me lower my guard through pity and regret, to make me feel like the villain for being cautious.
It only makes me even more hesitant about Zekram. Who knows though, maybe this was a part of Roygun's plan. She could have truly been distasteful of Lord Bael herself, maybe she made it so blatantly obvious that she was trying to manipulate me to keep my guard up for when I meet the man himself.
...or maybe I'm overthinking too much and just cost myself a chance at making a friend.
I decide to leave those thoughts behind and push Roygun out of my mind, moving through to the High Court and ignoring the way eyes seem to be almost drawn to me.
The same woman I'd been guided by, whom I now know as Livandra, seems almost relieved to see me, hurriedly stepping away from her desk and corralling me to a nearby elevator once she spots me.
No words are spoken, not even after we reach the highest floor of this unholy building, until finally we stare down the arched corridor I've come to know so well.
"Lord Bael's office is just behind the Courtroom, take the door on the right and it'll lead you directly there. The door on the left is for Clan seating, so avoid that."
She hurries her words, almost desperate to leave. Her eyes can't meet my own, and she's shaking. Either she's afraid of me, which I sincerely doubt... or she's afraid of Lord Bael's fury.
She leaves almost immediately after speaking, her high-heels clicking against the floor rhythmically until finally I'm alone again, left with no choice but to get moving.
Walking through the archway again brings with it the same chill I'd felt the first time, phantom eyes watching me from all directions, a shaking in my hand that won't go away-
The seats are all empty. Without the hundred eyes watching my every move, I can appreciate the architecture a bit more. It's all designed to make the speaker feel small, beneath those around them. A strange idea for the people's Court.
Lord Bael's office being behind it all certainly isn't accidental. You have to pass through the Court to reach him. He's almost spelling out just how much greater he believes himself than his compatriots.
As if by Instinct, I find myself driven to the lecturn once again, almost practicing for the eventual reconvening of the High Council, for the feeling of being exposed. I almost find it soothing, standing here.
Right. No more putting it off. I'm already late, and Lord Bael can only make so many exceptions in the face of my value. Time to face the music.
------------------------------------
A single knock at the door is all it takes.
"You may enter, Demi-fiend."
Pushing through into his office, I admit I had expected to be met with annoyance, frustration, anger even.
Turns out, I was wrong. He's damn near stoic, sat at his desk with a straight enough face to make me believe he were carved from stone, utterly unreadable.
The desk is nothing short of disorderly, several different motions and missives strewn about across it's length, and half a glass of... something just to the side.
The room itself though is utterly beautiful. Luxurious reds and golds colour the walls and furniture, fine wooden carvings, paintings and animal skulls across each wall. It feels homely. Too homely.
Brushing those thoughts aside, I shut the door behind me and take a seat across from Zekram, the Lord not speaking for several long moments as he finishes reading his documents.
"Do you know when the last time a Devil made me wait was, Alistair?"
He opens the conversation after placing his latest signed paper on a shoddy pile, hand now wrapped around his glass as he rests the other on his seat's armrests.
I know better than to answer a rhetorical question, so I simply stay quiet and try not to panic when a certain alert appears shortly after he finishes.
New Quest: In the Court of the Crimson King has been issued.
Goal: Negotiate with Lord Bael. Don't fall under pressure.
Rewards: 1050EXP, 1 EX Skill Token, 1500 CEL, High Class Devil Certification.
"Decades. Centuries, perhaps. Even the Satans' children, for all the fuckups they've grown up to be, never once made me wait."
He speaks so smoothly I almost forget how gravelly his voice is, each word spoken with such authority I find myself taking notes on how to make myself heard.
"Of course, you aren't like them, are you? You're different." He says, amused for reasons I can't discern. "Much different."
He pauses to take a sip from his glass.
"Now, I've heard a fair bit about what you did in Cain's Throne these last few days. Explain to me what happened."
He leans back in his chair after asking, no, demanding me to recount my side of the events. I do my best to recall every part in sequence, to which he stays silent the whole time, until finally I arrive at the battle against Ludwig.
"Daimadosu's Clan Trait had been active the whole time, used to control the young Marbas into freeing Ludwig from his prison. Shortly after being freed, he decided that I should be slaughtered for daring to show my face as a Half-Devil."
"It still doesn't make sense. None of what you've said could possibly answer the biggest question I have about this all." He mutters, a hand on his rough chin.
"And that question is?" I ask, feeling an odd pressure in the air as he meets my eyes.
"How did you, a man who was Low Class only weeks ago, stand toe to toe with Ludwig the Accursed for two minutes and live to tell the tale?" He asks, an odd sense of deja vu rolling through my mind.
"Explain to me how a low-born like you could match the greatest among my brethren."
Zekram never once raises his voice, yet somehow his words feel twice as heavy as he speaks.
He's asked this question before, the subject being Euclid instead. If I didn't know any better I'd say he knew about the System and wanted me to admit it aloud myself. Still, I thankfully have at least one alibi.
"To say I matched him would be a lie. I was brutalised in that pit, left on the brink of death and saved only by the General's intervention. Had it not been for his aid, I would have been rendered a corpse."
Just when I think I've fooled him, he shifts in his seat. For a brief moment, less than a fraction of a second, I catch a smirk on his lips. The sight alone is enough to make my heart drop.
"Well, that simply can't be right. After all Roygun herself was there to witness your little spat, and her description of events is... different than yours shall we say."
Schooling my expression takes much more effort than I'd anticipated, but I manage, barely able to stop myself from frowning in annoyance. Just in case, I make sure to check his Level.
Zekram Bael, Scourge of Solomon
Level 259
With my own assurances made, I watch as Lord Bael recites Roygun's words, a small smile now on his lips as he speaks.
"Immortal. Unkillable by conventional means. The Demi-fiend took blow after blow, most of his brain at one point removed from his skull, yet never once did he stop smiling, his body repairing all damage in the blink of an eye. Were it not such a revolting image, I would consider his tenacity inspiring."
My fist clenches beneath the desk, feeling the noticeable discomfort of not holding a weapon in my hands. Despite my previous words, no matter how exposed I may feel... I can't attack him. That would give him all the evidence he needs to lock me away in Cain's Throne.
"In terms of combat, the Demi-fiend is akin to a wild animal. Injury does not stop him, nor does pain. He will happily sacrifice parts of himself for a chance at harming his enemy, using a mix of long and close range weaponry alongside his magic."
Every word feels like a knife to the chest, a hit to my composure that feels ever closer to breaking. Worse still is Roygun's description of me. She's done everything she can to make me seem like a fucking maniac, a problem that needs handling.
"And yet, that isn't a problem. The Phenex themselves are capable of these same feats, albeit to a less gruesome degree. In truth, the most terrifying aspect of the Demi-fiend's power lies in his ability to share it with his allies, making every member of the Satanihilus practically immortal for the duration of our assault on Cain's Throne."
He never once pauses, the pressure growing with each moment. Why is he doing this? What does he gain from telling me how valuable I am?
"This power, if used correctly, could lead to an immortal regiment of soldiers, an undying army the likes of which would be insurmountable. As long as one man can harm his foe, the entire force will be healed of all wounds. We could lay siege to Lucifaad in a matter of minutes and leave unscathed."
When he finally finishes, Zekram smiles.
It's a disgusting thing, toothy and crooked, as though he hadn't smiled in centuries and was unused to the feeling, but he wears it with confidence as he stares me down.
"I thought you were something special the first time we met, but I underestimated you. You're beyond that."
...what?
"Just what games are you playing with me, Lord Bael? You speak down to me like an animal, then praise my abilities? Whatever point you're trying to make, get to it already."
His grin only widens.
"I am offering you, Alistair Mammon, an opportunity to ascend beyond your low-born status. I can have you sworn as a High Class Devil by the week's end, a contract with every Hospital in the Underworld in your name. All I ask of you is one thing."
"And that is what? Eternal servitude? A thousand years spent being bred for a child?" I spit out, not trusting his words.
He guffaws, a hair away from slamming the desk before he collects himself and grabs his drink once more.
"I'd never deprive the Underworld of one of her greatest talents. No, what I want from you is a promise. That's it."
My skepticism clearly shows given the way he smiles behind his drink as he takes a sip.
"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate, Lord Bael. I'm not a fan of being pedantic."
"Promise me, here and now, that you will fight for the Underworld against all those who would harm her; that you will lay down your life for the protection of our world."
That's it? All that buildup, all that time spent pushing me to the edge, just to ask for a simple promise of allegiance? It doesn't make sense. Why would he go so far just to not try and enslave me or something worse?
Is this all some ploy to endear me to him, to try and broker some form of willing cooperation? Is he going to try and take a mentor role in my life, to mould and manipulate me into being what he wants due to my young age? Will he one day claim Sirzechs or Serafall to be an enemy of the Underworld and have me march on them?
Lord Bael clearly picks up on my hesitance, as he follows up a second later with some added clarity.
"No strings attached. No contracts, no soul-consuming. All I ask of you is your word."
The assurance helps only slightly, my mind still wildly adrift with thoughts of how he could use this against me.
A traitorous part of me whispers that I'm being too cautious, that Roygun was right and I should take a good thing at face value. That maybe he's not as bad as I thought. I don't believe it for a second, yet...
I can't just think about myself. I have someone I need to take care of, someone who is an enemy of Lilith at the moment. I need to clear her name, as Gehrman's plan has most likely failed. Zekram is my only avenue for that. I need to bite the bullet.
...Besides, the Underworld is my home now. Even if it wasn't for this promise, I'd still follow through with protecting it.
"I promise."
He smiles once more, that same toothy grin as he reaches over the desk, shaking my hand with a firm grip.
"Welcome to High Society, Lord Mammon."
...The triumph feels hollow. I've been on the backfoot far too long in this discussion, and I refuse to let that continue. I have something he wants, and I've yet to use it.
I'm not leaving this room until Grayfia is cleared of all charges.