[Grayfia Lucifuge]
...If I am using the metaphor correctly, then to put it simply, I have been put between a rock and a rather hard place.
Rosalia is as untrustworthy as the rest of her Clan, an unscrupulous character driven by her ambition to be more than a cast-aside to her own family. Her words are the only proof of this plot against my Master, her testimony all that stands between myself and a prison cell should her plot be a lie.
Should it all be a deception, should the Clan be colluding and Rosalia's supposed betrayal the linchpin to their scheme, then my alliance with her would no doubt result in my own incrimination. The High Council have already been desperate to find a chink in the Demi-fiend's armour before he may grow too powerful, and this would no doubt be the opportunity they dreamt of if I act in favour of this scheme.
My actions against the Phenex would be seen as distinctly traitorous. No doubt my history among the Officio Satanorum would be brought back into discussion, and it may even lead to a debate about the Demi-fiend's own allegiance as well. My cell in Cain's Throne was built years ago. I imagine his own has long since been commissioned.
However, what my Master stands to gain from this plot is a bounty the likes of which no man could ever dream of. A marriage into House Phenex, the wealth of the richest Clan in the Underworld at his back, and most importantly, undeniable influence within the greater society of our people, beyond just his rapidly growing power:
A true monopoly over all Healing within the Underworld.
House Phenex very quickly would become invincible politically, the Demi-fiend's challenge to their control vanishing and giving way for an even tighter stranglehold over the Underworld's medicinal needs. Any attempts at sanctioning their grasp would be met with the simple ultimatum of rescinding their support for the High Council should such ideas be brought into consideration.
It is far, to put simply, far too good to be true.
Either Rosalia is truly that desperate for a chance to destroy her own Clan and take control of what remains, or she is far less intelligent than I had anticipated.
...I suppose there is also the possibility that she herself is a rogue actor, beyond even her own mother's potential schemes, pulling the strings to both sides of this affair.
Perhaps there is no plot against my Master. No plan to assassinate him. Rosalia could be trying to deceive me into believing it as such, so that she may cannibalise her own family through my blade and dispose of the Demi-fiend with one single act, granting her total and complete control of the House and the market.
Put simply, should I involve myself with her plot, I only stand to put myself and my Master at a far greater risk compared to whatever I stand to gain.
If I leave now, then the risk is mitigated, but I gain nothing. My Master gains nothing.
That is why I shall wait. Wait, and observe. I will not gather evidence and endeavour to frame Rellana, no. I will gather evidence against the plot as a whole, stay among the shadows and decipher the true mastermind behind this scheme for my Master's head... if there truly is one.
From there, I will decide how to act depending on the severity of the plot. Should the entirely of House Phenex be involved, then I will alert the High Council post-haste, Rosalia's promise be damned. Should Rosalia be the true culprit though, the stringmaster to this proverbial puppet show... then I shall endeavour to destroy her without lifting a single blade.
If there is any truth to Rosalia's words, then I have five days to observe and surveil the members of House Phenex before they supposedly plan to have Ryland attack me. Even less if that figure is a lie, and they plan to attack sooner to catch me off guard.
While Ryland is strong, I am no slouch myself. I should be able to defend myself long enough to contact my Master for support should they try, or flee the scene and report what occured to the Council. As long as I gather enough evidence against them, the truth of the Phenex' scheme will be irrefutable, their own bias be damned.
I only wish I could contact him now, however I fear that the communications in and out of this land are highly monitored. To speak of this scheme would no doubt lead to the Phenex destroying all evidence of their plot, evidence I need to crush their ambitions and establish my Master as the most prevalent Healer amongst the Underworld.
As it stands, it seems I must handle this matter myself. Luckily though, I am quite adept in the art of subterfuge. Many an unfortunate Devil have fallen at my hand for speaking out against the Officio Satanorum.
For the moment though, despite all the possible lies she may have told me, Rosalia was undeniably telling the truth about one thing. The hospitality that Clan Phenex is offering me is simply unmatched.
The night's dinner is a banquet the likes of which I'd only seen once in my life, on the day of Euclid's birth. The tables are almost invisible beneath the sea of food available atop them, fine delicacies that have become far less commonplace in the midst of the war, a distinct assortment of beverages and sides held by servants who sweep the hall.
The room is alight with conversation and cheer, almost every member of the Clan sat together to enjoy a fine meal in the hopes of celebrating a fruitful relationship with the Demi-fiend for the future to come.
Almost being the keyword. Lady Phenex is still absent, Lord Phenex never showed up, and Ryland is nowhere to be seen. If Rosalia was indeed telling the truth, then I've no doubt that his presence will remain an unseen one.
Unfortunately, the man has been known for his... gluttonous proclivities, disappearing for weeks at a time to indulge his own desires. His absence is not fully indicative of a part in this scheme, but if-
"You should smile, Lady Grayfia."
Rosalia speaks out from my side, a small smile upon her own lips as she nurses a glass in her hand and watches the banquet unfold.
We sit together at the head of the table, several seats on our side us left absent, while every other chair is filled. Rosalia and I stand out quite easily amongst the sea of blonde hair. Most importantly, she's not made any attempts to socialise, nor have the Clan made any attempts with her. It seems she truly is an outcast among them.
"Forgive me, Lady Rosalia. I find it difficult to truly immerse myself in such festivities with the knowledge that my Master is possibly fighting for his life at the moment."
She groans, rolling her eyes at me before lowering her drink, exchanging it for a knife and fork as she prepares to eat her meal.
"You could at least try to lighten up a bit. If there's one thing everyone knows about the Demi-fiend by now, it's that he doesn't die easy. Come on, Grayfia. Enjoy yourself. This peace won't last forever."
Her words turn to a quiet mumble towards the end, a smirk on her lips as she speaks.
"I wasn't aware the intricacies of my Master's power had become such common knowledge." I reply, eyes scanning the room.
So far, no faces stand out. Between the main House, the bastards and branches, and even the servants dotted among us, no eyes are focused on me. I can't decipher anything from their expressions.
"Oh, you'd be surprised Grayfia. I wager there's not a soul in the Underworld that doesn't know what he's capable of now. These days, Mother refers to him as a burning time bomb, an inevitable calamity for Ars Goetia."
...Hm. How prophetic.
"And what do you think, Lady Rosalia?"
She smirks again in response after her latest mouthful of food, her every action dainty and ladylike as she calls a servant to our spot to get a refill for her beverage.
"I think he's quite like Lord Sirzechs and Lord Ajuka. An omen for the future, be that good or bad. Proof of the changing times."
Intrigued, I shift in my seat slightly to face her now, my food and drink still untouched.
"I didn't realise you thought so highly of my Master, Lady Rosalia."
She laughs. It is a brief, almost inaudible snort, but it is present nonetheless.
"Who in the Underworld doesn't?"
Quite evasive. If she's trying to make an ally of me, she's doing a terrible job.
I don't have a chance to comment on her words though before she gestures with her hand to my side, my eyes following the motion and finding a member of the House Phenex looking down at me expectantly.
Blinking, I bow my head slightly in greeting, my hand raised for him to take softly.
"My apologies. I was so lost in conversation with Lady Rosalia that I didn't notice your presence, Sir...?"
He laughs, his teeth flashing and smile wide.
"Ruzera. Ruzera Phenex. I must say, it's a pleasure to finally meet the Lady Grayfia herself. The descriptions don't do you justice. You truly are the pinnacle of beauty."
Years of practiced neutrality have honed my expressions, my smile sufficiently wide enough to denote satisfaction at the compliment and nothing else as I hide my own discomfort beneath refined stoicism.
"You're too kind, Lord Ruzera. I do my very best to ensure my Master is always satisfied with my appearance. It is gratifying to know the effort is not wasted."
He grimaces, very clearly recognising the meaning to my words but paying no mind to it as he continues our conversation, leaning against my seat to deepen the proximity.
"Right. Your Master, the Demi-fiend. I simply must know, what is it you see in that man? What drives a fine lady like you to serve a thing like him?"
Some days, I am... almost thankful for the torment I endured in Lucifaad. Not only did it bring me into Alistair's care, but it gave me all the practice I could ever need when it comes to hiding my emotions, my smile never once straining as I respond to him.
"My reasons for serving the Demi-fiend are a personal matter, I'm afraid. All I can say is that I see myself in his care for the rest of my life, quite happily so at that."
He scoffs angrily, shaking his head in disappointment. I have to resist the overwhelming urge to cheer as he does so.
"Of course... Stubborn Loyalist bitch. So much for building trust between our families. I was trying to be nice to you, but it seems like you're too stupid to realise. The Demi-fiend can't offer you a fraction of what I can."
I don't doubt that this young man has never experienced rejection in his life. Perhaps he's spent so long surrounded by sycophants and whores that he's forgotten how to handle the real world.
...did he think me an easy lay? Is that why he came to speak with me? Does he believe that if I'll take a Half-Devil into my bed, then I'll allow anyone who asks?
The thought makes my finely honed composure crack slightly.
"Your words wound me, Lord Ruzera. Though I do wish for a fruitful partnership between my Master and the House Phenex, I will not stand for insults against his name."
Recognising the threat for what it is, and perhaps slightly inebriated, Ruzera turns on the spot, waving a hand as he scoffs.
"Suit yourself, bitch. I won't be as nice when you come crawling back to me after that half-breed throws you out, Loyalist trash!"
His tirade is stopped short as a nearby servant girl steps in at his side, dragging him away and offering me an apologetic glance while Ruzera grumbles to himself.
As always, the ego of House Phenex is truly unmatched. I've no doubt that spending time in this manor, with these people, is going to drain the years from my lifespan.
...The things I do for love.
------------------------------------
[Alistair Mammon]
Once again, I can't help but feel like I've underestimated my popularity.
"Demi-fiend!"
"Demi-fiend!"
"Demi-fiend!"
Much like the day I'd joined Sirzechs in felling the dragon beneath Cain's Throne and retaking the compound, I find myself barraged on all sides with support.
The Satanihilus look at me like a God in the flesh. They cheer my title again and again, drinks raised to the air in this impromptu eatery that they've set up for themselves. The Demi-fiend, now a man to be respected, and a man to be followed.
I should be pleased. I should be basking in the attention and revelling in their worship, but... it feels hollow now. Knowing how much better I could have been, how many died because of my own blood-hazed mind, it makes the idea of celebrating a shallow one.
...at least, that's what I tell myself. Even with all my reservations, I find myself grinning ear to ear at the cheers they give me. They speak of my unimaginable power, how I made Diamor stumble over himself, how I made Serafall look a fool in just one day.
Alas, I didn't come here to have my ego stroked endlessly. I'm here for a Companion Quest, one that has been active for several long minutes now.
Sat at a table with three other Devils, a warm meal in front of me and the wide-eyed looks of those opposite me, I'm left with no choice but to initiate the conversation.
"Well, Cassius? You brought me here. Shouldn't you be giving me some introductions?"
The young man at my side blinks from his own revelry, smiling in amusement as he realises his own folly. Grinning, he turns to his companions, a man and woman in the same full-body armour as Cassius himself, notably Full Blooded Devils unlike Cassius.
"Right, of course. Horatio, Avisa, allow me to introduce you to the Demi-fiend himself, Sir Alistair Mammon of the Satanihilus!"
I find myself smiling at his grandeur, halfway to rolling my eyes before I offer a hand in goodwill, the two of them all too eager to shake it as they smile back.
Horatio Karlen
Level: 76
Avisa Sancro
Level: 93
"It's a pleasure to finally meet the great Half-Devil himself. You're all Cassius talks about. He's been looking forward to fighting at-"
Horatio's teasing is cut short by Cassius' fist slamming the table, stumbling over himself to quiet down his friends ramblings. It seems he still holds our 'rivalry' dear.
Avisa, seeming to be the balance between the two of them, smiles apologetically before pinching the duo in their exposed ears.
"Forgive them, Lord Demi-fiend. They're quite excitable these days."
Her words are spoken through gritted teeth, no doubt embarrassed by the actions of her friends while she defuses the brief conflict as though it were a common routine.
"You don't need to apologise." I say, finding myself glad that Cassius has friends to laugh and enjoy his life with.
"Now, I've put off my questions for long enough, but I just can't wait any longer. What the hell happened to you, Cassius?"
The young man, now with a mouth full of arachen meat, chews his food loudly as he replies to me.
"I dunno."
Blinking, I turn to Horatio and Avisa, asking if they heard what I had with my eyes, but they shake their heads, confused themselves.
"You mind elaborating?" I say, leaning back and kicking my feet up on the table shortly after. Avisa seems to be fighting herself internally over the idea of asking me to take my feet off the table.
"Well." He starts, mouth no longer chock full of meat, "Your guess is as good as mine. I always knew there was something draining my life for years, but the doctors never understood what it was."
He wipes his lips on his sleeve, now feasting on a second leg of meat, the animal of origin being one I'm not familiar with.
"After you came by and healed me, it felt like my body was full of life again. Before I knew it, I was getting bigger and stronger. Sure, I was eating a lot more, but I could actually fight! I didn't know whether to laugh or cry!"
Intrigued at his words, I cast Wandering Eye on him through the Precursor's Eye-
-family lost power lost history lost cassius alban lost and afraid his power drained by gods ambition-
"-Shit!"
My sudden cry causes those at the table to jump in shock, eyes glancing to me across the makeshift tavern as I cradle my Eye in one hand and rest my palm against the table with the other, fingers dragging against it.
Taking deep breaths at the violent, aching pain in my eye, I blink rapidly in some hopeless bid to mitigate it as I shift my gaze to my fellow Devils once more.
"Forgive me." I grit out, a Prayer cast immediately after, though it does nothing to help my latest bout of agony.
"Sure thing, Demi-fiend... just, uh, you got something on your face."
Cassius points to my eye with a single hesitant finger, and I quickly notice a drop of blood trailing down my cheek.
Huh. That's new.
"Is that... normal, Sir? Your eye, that is?" Horatio asks, his voice quiet and meek.
"It wasn't always. Happened recently. Please try to ignore it."
The trio look among themselves, clearly concerned, but think nothing of it as Cassius goes back to his gluttonous appetite, his story muffled beneath gnashing teeth.
"Okay, well, where was I? Right, once you came along things changed. Physically, I was getting way stronger... but my Mana was still really damn weak. Even now, my Magic is soft at best. It still feels like somethings draining it, like the burden shifted from my body to my Mana."
Confused, I wait just a few seconds longer for the Prayer to be off cooldown, before lifting my hand and letting the Abyss Flower dangle freely, the Healing energy flowing freely into Cassius' body.
He blinks in surprise, looking at me with such hesitant gratitude, before flexing his arms out and casting a small Spell in his hand. I almost ask him to show me his Magic Crest on instinct, before I realise he wouldn't have one.
A moment later, and the young man sighs, shaking his head in defeat. His friends are quick to comfort him. Their camaraderie is so sickeningly endearing, I almost feel like a side-character in their story.
"Interesting. Truth be told, I've never encountered something like this. The only time I've failed to heal someone was... the Beelzebub's Chimera Toxin. If someone suffers from an affliction for too long, it goes beyond my abilities to cleanse it."
Cassius grimaces.
"I guess this one's beyond your reach then. My body has been like this for as long as I can remember. Looks like you can't fix everyone, huh buddy?"
...right. I can't save everyone. Again, that thought haunts the edges of my mind.
"What do you remember, if you don't mind my asking?"
He frowns in confusion, head tilted. I quickly reword my question at his silence.
"I mean, what was life like for you growing up? I may be a half-breed myself, but my memories are of the surface world. I had the misfortune of waking up here. I can't imagine what it was like to live your whole life here."
I'm lying to him, of course. I can't exactly tell him that my prophecy machine just had a violent reaction to casting Wandering Eye on him, and whispered stories of his childhood that left me very, very confused.
Thankfully, Cassius is none the wiser to my deception, smiling with an odd fondness.
"Honestly, it was actually pretty good. My Ma and I lived on a farm in Gusion lands for most of our lives. If we weren't Devils, things might've been a bit worse, but she could more than take care of the workload herself. I tried to help every now and then, though."
He stops eating for the first time in several long minutes, now smiling somberly.
"I don't really have many memories of when I was a little kid. Everything before I turned six is a blur. Ma says it was because I couldn't handle the pain of losing Pa, so my mind just... blocked out the memories."
Hm. A loose relation to the Precursor's vision, but nothing concrete. Cassius is truly an enigma, beyond what I'd expected. That should have already been known to me the instant I got a Companion Quest with him.
...could it be a Sacred Gear? Is that what it meant by Go- by the Father's ambition?
I suppose I can't know for sure. Wandering Eye just... won't give me any sort of concrete reading on him. It hasn't forced the Precursor aspect to activate again thankfully, but it's not doing much else either.
I'll just have to live with my own lack of knowledge for now. At the very least, I trust Cassius only slightly more than the average man given our shared burden as Half-Devils.
"Demi-fiend? Are you alright?"
I blink, not realising that I've been staring into my plate for the last few minutes, never having responded to Cassius' words. Horatio looks at me with blatant concern, worried that I'd exerted myself too much in my battle with Diamor.
"Yes, I'm fine. Forgive me, I've been thinking about the future battles to come is all."
The trio laugh at my words, saying something about how my dragon and I could face any battle with a smile, then start talking between themselves about how awe-struck Alduin left them.
Ironically, contrary to Horatio's thoughts, I don't think I exerted myself enough. I should have focused on killing him first and foremost, blood-haze be damned. I wasted time, played with my food. He could have brought so much EXP.
No. Serafall would have stopped me.
...
...Serafall.
As much as I hate to say it, she's a better fighter than me. I'd noticed it plainly enough during the battle with Diamor, but without the boosts from Blood Empowerment, I would have been hopelessly outmatched in terms of both power and skill by the both of them.
I may just need to take up her offer for some training. Actually, genuine training. Not an excuse to beat each other bloody, no matter how enjoyable I'm sure that would be, but an endeavour to grow my skills in battle.
...she was right about me. Of course she was. Aside from Grayfia, she knows me better than anyone else. She saw right through me, like a thin sheet of paper.
Is it truly so wrong to enjoy making my enemies hurt? To impart upon them the same pain that they would seek to force upon me? To make them suffer?
They burn, they curse, they jeer, they hate.
Why should I be ashamed to do the same? To return every lash, every curse, and every wound that they first dealt to me?
"You know, Demi-fiend... I envy you."
Blinking in surprise, I'm forced out of my own self reflection by Cassius' earnest words, his eyes staring at me with a mix of worship and anger.
"Would you kindly elaborate, Cassius?"
He rubs a hand in his hair in frustration, eyes unable to meet my own.
"I thought... I know it sounds silly, but I really thought once I started fighting the war I'd be just like you. A living legend, a man so powerful he turns the tide of battle with his mere presence. I couldn't do anything today. Hell, if it wasn't for you, I'd be dead."
I stay silent, his friends electing to do the same as they stare with overwhelming sympathy and shock in their eyes. It seems they didn't spend the battle as one unit.
"I was caught out. Everyone was so focused on getting out of the way of you and Diamor that nobody noticed me crying for help. No weapon, no Mana to fall back on. Just me, a Loyalist, and no hope."
He shudders at the memory, a hand lifted to his neck.
"He must've thought I was you. Either that, or he just wanted to delude himself otherwise. He kept screaming about my blood while he strangled me, but I could barely make out the words. In that moment, I really thought I was going to die."
He then glances up at me, smiling, genuinely grateful beneath his envy.
"Then you set up that circle around Chastinal, and the dragon appeared above us. In an instant, the tables turned. A few seconds later, I blinked, and the man was nothing more than a puddle of blood."
...that couldn't have been Alduin's work.
Alduin uses lightning exclusively. It's his own personal preference. If the strangling man was truly killed by my good boy, then he'd be turned to dust, not a puddle. He wasn't crushed in the mutant's grasp either, else Cassius would have noticed.
Could this power be-
"I really am thankful, buddy. I hope you don't mind me being a little jealous of your power."
Suddenly far more Intrigued with Cassius and the vision my Eye gave me, I laugh off his worries and finally begin eating the meal he bought for me.
"It's fine. I don't blame you for it, if it helps. Seeing someone with the same burden as you, but so much stronger... I imagine it's quite disheartening. The fact you try and fight in spite of your own shortcomings is quite inspiring, Cassius."
Suddenly on the spot, Cassius can do nothing but rub the back of his head in embarassment, cheeks flushing as his friends tease him at either side.
"Well, when you put it like that... it feels like I'm the Hero of my own story! Not everyone is born powerful. Lord Ajuka worked his way to the top from the ground up, so I'll just have to do the same!"
His joyous resolution is almost enough to put a smile on my face. He's earnest. A lot like Sirzechs, an idealist, just without the power to back it up.
His friends' teasing quickly turns to happy ramblings as they talk among themselves now, the conversation shifting constantly between the last battle, their plans for the future, and their small training sessions.
The whole time, Cassius regularly strays from the topic. He speaks about his dreams of a better Underworld. He speaks about what he wants from this war. He speaks about making his mother proud. His friends sit enraptured on either side, quickly lost in the shared vision of a brighter tomorrow.
Hearing it leaves me weak in the stomach. I don't think he'll ever be strong enough to enact even a single dream he holds.
Feeling distinctly out of place now, I finish the meal I'd been offered and pay for it with haste. Some strange generosity takes hold of me a moment later though, and I decide to pay for everyone's food and drink for the night, a bundle of Sol taken from my inventory and left on the counter.
It is the only offering I can make to honour those lost.
The Satanihilus cheer my name, toast to me in thanks for our jolly cooperation, and sing amongst themselves yet again, but I've already left the tavern by the time they start.
I should be smiling. It's a happy moment, after all. Cassius has recognised his own shortcomings, found solace in the company of those he deems friends and trusted them with his fears. He's grown as a person.
...I can't, though. My mind keeps flickering back to the brief vision of his past I'd been given, the last few seconds of it before my Eye closed replaying over and over.
It's not the vision itself that haunts me.
It's the fact that something else saw me, and shattered my connection forcefully.
Something else is alive in Cassius' Soul. Feeding on his power. On his life force.
And it doesn't like visitors.
Companion Quest: Thicker Than Blood has been issued. Rewards hidden!
Companion Quest: Green With Envy has been com-
I toss aside the notification the instant it arrives. Left alone with nothing but the muffled cheers of the tavern and my own silent rumination as I stare at Alduin's sleeping form, I find my thoughts falling to the same place they'd been moments prior.
Not wanting to think about... whatever the fuck myriad of secrets that Cassius' Soul is hiding though, I take a deep breath and try my best to clear my mind, letting my thoughts drift freely.
...
Of course.
It's always the same.
Even now, in what should have been a peaceful moment, my thoughts have no choice but to drift back to you. A terrible poison of the mind, your continued survival burns away at me no matter the time of day.
I'd never known true hatred before coming here. I was a peaceful man. I forgave and forgot easily. Now, even the very Underworld itself, and all her people, will not allow me to forget you.
And how could I ever? You live on the edges of my mind like a cancer, a tumour on my conscience. Each day I find myself smiling at the thought of your imminent demise.
...Inch by inch, mile by mile, wound by wound and level by agonising level.
I've crawled my way up from the pits of Hell with a constant goal in mind, dragged my way through the bodies and the blood with a singular desire that burns eternally, a dream etched upon my very soul:
The death of Bidleid Beelzebub, and the seat of Satan Beelzebub taken as my own.
The distance between us shortens with each moment. The walls are closing in around you, and the city of Lucifaad will one day be within my grasp.
When that day comes, no High Council will be able to stop me. Not even Sirzechs, his Destruction, and all the power in the Underworld could ever hope to.
...So what now, Bidleid? What's your move?