Demons clad in black steel moved quietly and swiftly during the night.
The resources, the stockpiled abyssal steel, the crates of elemental diamonds, the raw ore that hasn't been refined, had all been secured, crated, and moved to hidden hideouts under the cover of darkness.
His larceny was complete, the evidence of his pilfering erased from the ledgers of Vorlag and Malgrim, though not that he expected to go unnoticed for long.
He could only hope that Adam was swift with completing his end of the deal.
Now, with the spoils of his long game safely tucked away, it was time to return to the basin.
The journey was swift.
Kaelgor traveled light, accompanied only by a handful of his most trusted berserker elites.
Their massive forms, clad in the dark, sleek plates of abyssal steel, moved with a predator's deadly elegance through the jagged, volcanic landscape. The route seemed to be free of debris and fauna; having traveled this path more times than he would have liked to.
The perpetual gloom of night still clung to the basin when they arrived. It was a thick, oppressive darkness broken only by the sullen glow of distant lava flows and the faint, shimmering light of Adam's defensive barrier.
Kaelgor positioned himself on a natural rise of obsidian that offered a better view of the basin's perimeter.
His eyes glowed a menacing deep red; hell's eyes swept across the terrain, probing the shadows, searching for the signs of his daughter's presence.
He knew she was out there.
He had let her run ahead, and now he needed to locate her, to assess the situation, to see how his plans unfold.
Black rock, obsidian, and ash filled his eyes.
His gaze narrowed slightly.
It was not easy.
Saphira was skilled at concealment, her training in the arts of stealth and misdirection honed by his own subtle pointers and training.
The darkness was her ally, and the rugged terrain offered countless folds and crevices to hide within.
Still, Kaelgor's gaze swept back and forth, patient and methodical, determined to locate his daughter.
Like a flare in the dark.
The piercing, demanding presence of another devil interrupted his search.
It was Vorlag.
The brute's aura was the flare in the oppressive darkness, a bonfire of brutish power that was impossible to ignore.
His skill, techniques, and experience all outclassed him, but Vorlag's physical strength was greater, his defense impeccable, and his mana reserves were about the same.
There was a limit that couldn't be surpassed in the 1st layer, so that meant his 'peers' had strength to threaten him if he let his guard down.
He was a brute of a devil; broad, skin like polished granite, and with pulsing veins of molten orange. Two massive, forward curving ram's horns erupted from his brow, and a thick, powerful tail tipped with a spiked mace of bone lazily swept the floor behind him.
He lumbered towards Kaelgor, his solid, rock-like gleaming dully in the faint light, his massive shoulders hunched with a mixture of aggression and curiosity.
'This Golem Devil…'
Kaelgor suppressed a flicker of annoyance, as he had hoped to observe unnoticed.
"You disappeared," Vorlag rumbled, his voice deep and loud, yet steady, "Took your forces back to your fortress. Now you return, but with nothing to show for," His oppressive red gaze narrowed, scanning Kaelgor's face for a lie, "What were you doing?"
Kaelgor did not flinch at the impromptu interrogation.
He had expected questions.
His activities, while discreet, could not be completely hidden. Not with thousands of demons and several devils maintaining watch.
The challenge was to provide an explanation that was plausible and uninteresting.
"The inventory," Kaelgor replied, his voice a bored and unconcerned, "A necessary chore. Ensuring the ledgers matched the stockpiles." He shrugged, a casual roll of his massive, armored shoulders.
"The amount of valuable resources in this layer is limited, Vorlag. Then we have cumbersome things like abyssal steel and black gold. Hard to move, harder to hide," He let a hint of condescension in his tone, "But they have value, and our Lord Gorael's territories border lands held by devils who are not always… known to keep their hands to themselves. I was ensuring that if someone decided to take advantage of our collective absence here, our outposts would be notified at the fastest possible speed."
It was a lie, smoothly delivered, grounded in a sliver of truth.
The territorial disputes were real, and the need for vigilance was real. Though there was a very low chance that the surrounding peak-tier devils would steal from their territory, it didn't mean that they should just forget about their main task here.
Also, by mentioning the resources, of restocking and taking inventory, it would make the devils overlook any intel brought back from their subordinates.
They could not expect Kaelgor to run away with resources from the devil lord he serves.
Vorlag's gaze narrowed further, skepticism warring with the inherent laziness of his mind. The explanation was boring, and Kaelgor's demeanor, quiet, unassuming observation as he gazed towards the shimmering barrier, seemed to confirm it.
'Maybe he's interested in the secrets beyond the barrier too,' Vorlag thought, his interest waning.
The newborn's domain was a source of intense curiosity.
The power of the nexus, the strange, weak devil that worked within… it was a puzzling.
Kaelgor's unwillingness to get close to that barrier, his consistent, cautious distance, had been noted by both Vorlag and Malgrim.
It reinforced their own caution, their shared, unspoken agreement not to recklessly test the shimmering wall.
If the experienced, century-old Kaelgor was wary, then there was wisdom in that wariness.
Satisfied, albeit marginally, Vorlag grunted and lumbered back into the shadows, his curiosity held for now, his suspicions not fully extinguished but temporarily placated.
He too would watch and wait, keeping an eye on this particular devil.
Luckily for Kaelgor, Malgrim and him still had things they could learn and master. Using their free time to obtain more knowledge, preparing themselves for the Awakened Realm, was the more logical option instead of constant surveillance.
Kaelgor returned his attention to his search, the brief interruption filed away, his mask of bored indifference firmly in place. His gaze resumed its patient sweep, probing the dawning gloom.
The faintest hint of light, an orange and purple pale glow, began to bleed over the jagged horizon, welcoming the hellish dawn.
And then, he saw it.
A shadowy figure, previously invisible against the dark folds of a low trench near the barrier, stirred.
It rose, a feminine silhouette of elegant, curving lines, and began to walk towards the shimmering wall.
Kaelgor's eyes locked onto the figure, a cold, satisfied smirk touching his lips beneath his helmet.
There she was: Saphira!