The heavy desire to vent one's anger coalesced into a maelstrom of violent demonic energies.
Blazing red, overbearing golden-brown, and eerie green formed a trifecta of chaos.
The silence stretched, like a coiled serpent waiting to strike.
He could feel their supernatural senses probing, testing the stability of his composure, searching for the lie they both suspected lurked beneath his calm exterior.
A less experienced devil would have shown a flaw.
But Kaelgor had spent a century mastering the art of deception, of weaving truths and falsehoods into a steel wall so seamless that even the most perceptive minds couldn't peer in. They found only what he wanted them to see.
His mouth, hidden and dry by hell's hot air, open.
He began to speak, his voice a calm, yet not soft; each word carefully chosen.
"The devil who just reached the high-tier," He stated, nodding towards the shimmering barrier, "Is indeed the devil in charge of the basin." He paused, letting the truth of that statement settle.
Adam's control over his domain was absolute, a fact visible in the ordered chaos of demons and the nexus. Yet it was truly backed by Lord Gorael's orders and the powerful attack rune that gave him absolute freedom.
'True.'
Vorlag's eye's narrowed, but he did not interrupt.
"As for Saphira, my daughter…" Kaelgor continued, his tone shifting to one of detached explanation, "She was sent, as was agreed upon. It was… demanded."
He let the word hang in the air, heavy with implication.
He did not specify who had made the demand.
Furthermore, he did not need to.
The insinuation was masterfully deliberate; a subtle redirection of blame and authority.
Vorlag and Malgrim would naturally assume he meant Lord Gorael, the ultimate source of all commands.
In reality, the demand had come from his own deal with Adam, a private arrangement born of greed and strategy.
True and false, intertwined tightly, yet loosely left adrift, allowing for their own imaginations to deprive them of the answers they sought.
"The newborn used her," Kaelgor said, his voice colder, more uncaring, "He utilized her to reach the new realm. Her power, her essence… was the catalyst he required." It was a partial truth, stripped of context.
Adam had used Saphira, yes, but not in the way Kaelgor implied. The fight, the surge of power, the ascension; these were consequences of violence and survival, not a premeditated desire nor ritual.
"The fighting?" Vorlag interjected, his suspicion still evident, "What of the fighting? We felt the fluctuations, the clash of high-tier power! That was no simple 'utilization'," A devious smirk carved his smooth and hard face, "It didn't seem like your daughter was willing in this 'ritual'" He mocked.
Kaelgor met his gaze without flinching.
"Saphira rebelled… probably," He said, his tone uncaring, "She refused to be used, and mostly likely fought back as a result," He shrugged, a casual roll of his massive, armored shoulders, "I do not care. I did as I was instructed. Her choices, her rebellion, are her own burden to bear."
It was a lie wrapped in a truth.
Saphira had indeed rebelled, but not against being 'used' in the sense Kaelgor described.
Her rebellion was against her father's command, against the fate he had assigned her. But Vorlag and Malgrim did not need to know that.
They needed to see a narrative that supported their existing biases, that explained the strange events without implicating Kaelgor in any wrongdoing.
Before either of them could press further, the hellish air carried a new sound to their extraordinarily sharp ears.
Its rhythmic, yet chaotic, muffled by distance and the hum of the barrier, but unmistakable in its nature.
The wet, violent slap of flesh striking flesh, the sound of primal, relentless coupling. Beneath it, barely audible, the stifled, stilled groans and moans of a female voice: Saphira's voice.
Malgrim's thin smile widened, his green eyes glittering with cold amusement. Vorlag's narrowed, a new, calculating light dawning within it.
Kaelgor seized the moment.
"She was a virgin," He stated, "Her primal yin was intact. The devil within sought that, utilized it for his growth. It is a potent resource, as you well know."
The two peak-tier devils exchanged glances.
The pieces were falling into place, forming a baseline profile of Adam in their minds from all the details they had obtained thus far.
A lustful, ambitious devil, demanding a virgin sacrifice to fuel his ascension.
A rebellious deviless, sent against her will, fighting back and being brutally subdued. It explained the fight, the power surge, the violation they could now hear echoing across the basin.
But one question remained, burning in Vorlag's mind.
"Why?" He rumbled, his voice thick with confusion and a dawning, grudging respect, "Why does he need to be stronger? And why not just have a stronger devil, one of us, for instance, within the basin in the first place? What is his endgame? No," His gaze hardened, almost pleading mixed with demanding, "What is Lord Gorael's plan?"
Kaelgor met his gaze, and for a moment, a flicker of genuine bewilderment passed through his own eyes.
"The whole thing is bizarre," He admitted, his voice dropping to a low, almost defeated whisper, "I have been trying to understand it myself. Lord Gorael's commands are not always… transparent. His plans operate on levels we cannot fathom."
It was a deflection, a redirection of blame to the absent Arch Devil, but it was also, in the depths of his soul, something Kaelgor genuinely agreed with.
The situation was bizarre.
Adam was an anomaly.
And he was playing a dangerous game that even Kaelgor, with all his mental fortitude and cunning, could not fully predict.
Had Adam not utilized the runes that Lord Gorael had carved into the nexus, no, if Adam had gone into a blind rage like a normal newborn, then how would everything have been right now?
Bizarre to describe the current situation was an understatement.
Throughout this verbal dance, Kaelgor's mind had been working on overdrive.
His words only served to further the two interrogating devils from the truth.
Devils were supremely capable of reading emotions and thoughts, of sensing the subtle shifts in aura that betrayed deception.
He had been forced, by the very nature of his observers, to either remain silent or to speak words that meticulously skirted around the truth.
Calculating to create a plausible narrative, to satisfy their curiosity without revealing his own inner thoughts.
As the last words left his lips, a new presence made itself known.
The sounds of violent coupling from beyond the barrier had long ceased admits their discussions.
Now, walking towards the shimmering wall, his tall, powerful form silhouetted against the growing light, was Adam.
He moved with the unhurried, confident stride of a conqueror, his body still glistening with the sweat from his recent exertions.
Hidden under his cloak, the fur carved a shapely silhouette.
Saphira, was barely conscious, could only brace herself as she felt herself near the aura of her father.
Hidden at his side, with her beautiful head peeking out of a fur cloak, was Lyra.
The three peak-tier devils fell silent, their attention on the approaching figure in the center.
Kaelgor watched, his expression unreadable, his heart cold, calculating, as the newborn devil, now at the high-tier, walked towards them.
A mask of arrogant, lustful satisfaction.