"Hey, Bael, can you explain this bloodline enhancement art for me?" Rizeviem had a serious expression as he looked at Bael.
"Huh?" At first, Bael didn't get it, but he still decided to tell him since this knowledge is like common sense in the underworld now.
But the moment Bael opened his mouth to explain, a sudden, freezing chill swept through the entire luxury room.
"Well, it's a technique that allows a devil to tap into the root of their ancestral power and—"
Boom!
Before Bael could even finish his sentence, his voice was violently cut off. A massive, invisible pressure slammed down directly onto his chest, forcing him back into his heavy leather chair. The luxury crystal ornaments on his desk instantly shattered into fine dust, and the crackling fire in the hearth was completely snuffed out, leaving the room in a dark, suffocating cold.
Bael's eyes went wide with pure terror. His throat choked up, and he realised he couldn't utter another single syllable about the art. It wasn't that he forgot the knowledge—it was that the magic art inside his head was violently rejecting his attempt to share it with Rizevim and Euclid.
"What the hell..." Bael gasped out, clutching his throat as the suffocating pressure finally eased up. Sweat poured down his face like a waterfall. He looked up at the ceiling, his heart pounding like a drum. "The art... it has a restriction. I can't talk about it to someone who hasn't received it!"
Rizevim and Euclid both stepped back, their faces turning incredibly ugly. They had clearly felt that terrifying burst of energy just now. It didn't come from Bael, and it didn't come from anywhere outside the mansion. It had triggered directly from within Bael's own bloodline.
"A soul-binding restriction built into a mass-broadcast magic?" Euclid whispered, his voice trembling slightly as a cold sweat broke out on his neck. "To have that level of control over millions of devils simultaneously... just what kind of monster is this new king?"
Rizevim didn't laugh this time. His face was completely dark, and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. For the first time in his life, he felt a deep, instinctual fear creeping up his spine. The fact that he and Euclid were completely excluded from this miracle that was given to all devils—and rejected so violently by the magic itself—meant only one thing.
The new king had already stripped both of them of their status as devils. As for why they are so sure, because as soon as this restriction appeared, both Rizeviem and Euclid could feel the whole underworld starting to reject them. This felt like the rejection one had when facing the angels.
"Bael..." Rizevim muttered, his voice dropping all of its usual playful arrogance. "Let's change the deal. We might need to change the stakes."
....
With Roxanne's death threat hanging over their heads, the Devil Council didn't dare to waste a single second. They ran around like headless chickens, working at a speed they had never achieved in their entire corrupt lives. Within just a few hours, the grand coronation ceremony was completely prepared, and announcements were blasted to every corner of the world, and all the people who should be present were dragged.
Meanwhile, back in the palace, six people were gathered by the large balcony, looking out over the bustling capital.
Seeing the council members below working so hard, the four Satans all had complicated expressions as they sat next to each other, their bodies tightly bound by dark, pulsing chains. For some reason, Roxanne had decided to keep them chained right besides her instead of letting them go help manage the chaos like the others.
This certainly wasn't because Roxanne was wary of them or feared a rebellion. After all, if she wanted to, she could easily force their own bloodlines to reject them—rendering them weak enough for someone like Luciana to casually handle.
No, the real reason she kept them bound like trophies was far more brutal. She wanted these four ignorant Satans to sit there and witness the direct consequences of their misplaced sense of justice. As Roxanne had pointed out earlier, while these four were undoubtedly skilled fighters and brilliant researchers, they were utterly incompetent when it came to politics.
Roxanne knew their personalities all too well. She was entirely certain that if some random idiot noble started crying about how she was "destroying the Underworld" or "bringing the devil race to ruin," these four soft-hearted fools would instantly lose their composure and try to swing their weapons at her in the name of righteousness.
Don't doubt it for a second, because Roxanne herself could accomplish that in ten different ways without even breaking a sweat. To her, their grand ideals of "peace" and "nobility" were nothing more than a childish fantasy that had bound all four of them into puppets.
Seriously, Roxanne even wanted to pry these guys' brains and find out whether they had been brainwashed by Bael or something. I mean, how come the Devil race's strongest fighters have a temper that is no worse than a Buddha's?
For decades, those stubborn councilmen had been openly provoking and undermining the Four Satans' authority at every turn. Yet, instead of just beating the absolute shit out of those old idiots, Sirzechs and his group actually chose to compromise with them time and time again.
And what's worse is their pathetic excuse for doing so: they claimed they wanted to avoid a drastic drop in the devil population. Well then, congratulations, geniuses. If numbers were the only problem, why didn't they just break the council's bones and throw them into a dungeon to breed for the rest of their miserable lives?
Don't even try to bring up morality or ethics here. They are devils—they inherently don't have morals. Besides, in the Underworld, it is completely normal for powerful female devils to take multiple partners, especially when it comes to preserving and expanding a strong bloodline. Having a harem isn't a privilege exclusive to male devils; in fact, the number of female devils with massive harems in the Underworld is far higher than that of the males.
"So tell me, Sirzechs, what do you have to say when something you desperately wanted to do was done by a little girl using the same method you could do but didn't dare to " Roxanne asked as she looked at Sirzechs with a smile.
Sirzechs remained silent, his gaze fixed on the crowded plaza below. The heavy, dark chains around his chest rattled slightly as his shoulders slumped under the weight of her words. He looked completely drained; the vibrant, crimson hair that usually symbolised his status as the strongest Satan was now looking dull in the dim light of the balcony.
"I have nothing to say," Sirzechs finally whispered, his voice hoarse. He didn't look up to meet her eyes. "We wanted to preserve the peace. We thought... we thought that by compromising, we were keeping the race from fracturing into another civil war. We didn't want to become tyrants."
"Tyrants?" Roxanne let out a sharp, melodic laugh. She stepped closer, her heels clicking rhythmically against the stone floor until she was standing right over him, looking down on them. "You call efficiency tyranny? What you call 'peace' was just a slow, agonising suicide. You let a bunch of decaying, greedy parasites walk all over you because you were terrified of spilt blood, completely ignoring the fact that your precious population was rotting from the inside out anyway."
"Remember this, Sirzechs: when you clearly know about how corrupt these guys are and still trust them to do a good job, you clearly have become a tyrant who doesn't care about his people " Roxanne said as she stepped back, her gaze landing on all four Satans.
Although some of their faces still told her that they were still clearly unconvinced, Roxanne didn't care. After all, right now these guys are just a bunch of mascots.
*****
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