Emergias stared down at them, his face swollen and bruised. Few in the entire demonic kingdom would have dared to do that to him, the fourth demon prince.
“You absolute fool!”
Aiogias had given him quite the thorough scolding after the lunch meeting. After hearing excuse after excuse, he had punched Emergias. As if he were a mere observer, Emergias casually wondered how long it had been since he last got punched in the face.
“Why did you do something so careless?”
“I told you we were trying to win him over to our side, didn’t I?”
“What are you, stupid?”
The criticism, the insults, were unending. Spinezia had watched the entire thing play out, face pale as she continued working on dessert.
“You just wait. See if Zilbagias joins Rubifya,” Aiogias said, lifting Emergias up by his shirt. “Once the war of succession starts, you’ll be first in line to fight him. Assuming you’d even stand a chance,” he spat. “How come Rubifya gets all my talented brothers...?” he moaned.
But his words didn’t bother Emergias in the slightest. See, joining Aiogias’s faction hadn’t been his choice. One day, his mother just told him that the family had decided the Izanis family would serve under the Vernas family. All the effort Emergias had put in, all the blood, sweat, and tears he had poured into trying to become worthy of the title of Demon King, had been thrown in the gutter without a second thought. His own mother had given up on him, going so far as to try and replace him with another child.
The stone railing of the balcony groaned under Emergias’s grip.
“You’re as reliable as ever, Zilbagias! I’m so proud to call you my son!”
The words of his father from the day that brat had first showed off his high elf leather outfit came unbidden to his mind. His father had ordered Zilbagias to stay after everyone had left. Emergias assumed they’d put up a soundproof barrier, so he hadn’t expected much when he stayed behind to listen through the door. He hadn’t picked up anything of their conversation, but he had heard his father praising Zilbagias at the end.
As Demon King, his father was always keeping an eye on the balance of power between his children. He didn’t casually dole out praise or favor to any of them. At least, that was what Emergias had thought. That was what he had been led to believe. Until that day.
On that day, he had heard his father praise someone openly for the first time.
The balcony railing started to crack.
And now, he saw that same Zilbagias facing off against his own mother in a fight to the death. They were both covered in wounds and drenched in blood. This kind of fatal training was entirely unusual for demons. This was only possible for the Rage family, the sole family in the demonic kingdom with access to healing magic... No. Even for them, this was far from normal.
“Bark bark!”
That high elf’s presence was a big deal. Taking his mother’s wounds after impaling her in the stomach, Zilbagias was healed in no time. And with that, they resumed their training.
Any demon would see that and recognize the threat that Zilbagias posed. He took fatal wounds without so much as flinching, wielded Transposition expertly... It was hard to imagine just how incredible he’d be on the battlefield. But the most bizarre thing of all? Despite their brutally vicious fighting...there wasn’t a shred of hatred between them.
When they took a water break, they exchanged smiles. Smiling, even while covered in blood. And what were they saying? Almost unconsciously, Emergias took hold of the wind with his magic.
“I—proud—you.”
He could barely make out what was said. But with the way she stroked his hair, the unbelievably gentle smile on her face, it was obvious what Pratifya was saying.
The railing let out another groan beneath his fingers.
Emergias pressed a hand to his chest, his face taking on a look as though he was suppressing the urge to vomit blood. His heart was a hurricane of mad emotion.
And yet, it wasn’t enough. Not even close. He felt that. He understood that.
After almost forty years, he had ascended to the rank of marquis. But, where would he go next? How long would it take him to reach the rank of duke?
And in that same time, how far would Zilbagias climb? Having reached the rank of marquis at six years old, he was an unprecedented prodigy.
It wasn’t enough. Not enough, not enough, not enough! At this rate, he couldn’t keep up. He couldn’t catch up. Emergias groaned in pain.
The stone railing beneath his hand shattered.
No matter how strong his desires were, no matter how desperate he became, all this power wasn’t enough. But at the same time, he understood. Even if he had all the power in the world...
Did he want to become king? To become the strongest warrior in the kingdom? To win fame and honor? No, he wanted none of that. What he wanted, what he really wanted...
Emergias started to laugh because it was simply impossible. And if it was impossible, then all he could do was obtain more power. That was the only option he had left.
Emergias walked away, a new kind of resolve burning in his bloodshot eyes.
“Young master...” Hisuizia—the attendant, childhood friend, and practically older sister of Emergias—called out to him with uncharacteristic concern in her voice.
“Arrange a dragon for me,” he gave her a crisp order. If he wanted even more power... “I’m going to the Dark Portal.”
All he could offer in exchange was his own soul.
†††
“We will arrive soon, boss,” the metallic voice of his familiar green dragon came to him.
“Oh...good.” Emergias straightened up in the saddle. Even though they had just left the castle thirty minutes prior, he was usually asleep by this time, so the trip was just long enough for Emergias to start dozing off.
Off in the distance, at the far end of the wasteland racing beneath him, he saw something akin to a rainbow mirage. The prism-like illumination was beautiful yet unnerving. And sitting just below it was Cosmologie, the town that had sprouted up to serve as a rest stop for devils arriving in the material world for the first time or demons returning from their journey in the Abyss. As if sneering at the very laws of nature, the buildings were constructed in a twisted fashion, winding toward the center of the city. And at that center, a pitch-black hole was present in the world: the entrance to the Abyss—the Dark Portal.
“I’ll be back soon,” Emergias informed Hisuizia at his side before he inevitably departed. Time within the Abyss passed by swiftly. To what extent depended on where one encountered a devil, but generally a visitor returned before too much time had passed in the material world. That was as long as nothing went awry.
“Understood. Be careful,” Hisuizia called after him, her voice weighed down by concern.
And, without a hint of hesitation, Emergias stepped inside.
The next thing he knew, he was standing on darkly bright ground. A black sun hung in the sky above. He was surrounded by a forest of shadows and had reddish black soil underneath his feet.
“Why hello there,” a familiar voice called out to him. Standing beside Emergias was a cane wearing a tailcoat. There was no other way to describe him. He looked exactly like an old wooden cane, standing on its end, with a tailcoat draped over it. Their first meeting had left Emergias pretty stunned.
“Odigoth, was it?” Emergias greeted the creature. As the Devil of Guidance, he was the first all demons met upon entry into the Abyss.
“It seems this isn’t your first time here,” the devil spoke.
“That’s correct. This is my third.” His first visit to the Abyss had seen him making a true pact with the Devil of Envy just before coming of age. When his strength had started to plateau, he’d made his second visit. As his soul no longer had the capacity to keep coming here, this would likely be his last visit.
“Do you require my services?” Odigoth asked.
“Of course.”
“Then allow me to show you the way, the path that you must take.” With that, Odigoth dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut. With that, both the cane and tailcoat fell, pointing toward the forest of shadows. “You should head in that direction,” Odigoth said as he righted himself, brushing the dirt from his sleeves.
With a word of thanks, Emergias set off, finding a twisting path through the translucent trees. High grass impeded his progress, so he unleashed blades of wind to mow it down out of irritation. But a moment after they were gone, they had grown right back. It was as though they had never been touched at all. He had hoped that his growth in the time since his previous visits would have made a difference, but that didn’t seem to be the case. The concept of thick, irritating overgrowth was just too much to overcome. With a sigh, he slowly made his way through the grass.
After struggling for a while, he finally came across something like a spring in the middle of the forest. Thick black fluid, reminiscent of oil, gushed forth from its center.
“Long time no sssee, Emergias,” a hissing voice called down to him from overhead.