With the guards dismissed, Algernon remained seated on the obsidian throne, the only light in the vast hall emanating from the magical energy contained within his armor and the subtle shimmer of the single throne. He waited with the patience of a predator.
The massive doors of the hall were pushed open from the outside, and a figure glided into the space. She wore a long, elegant gown, and her iconic silver hair was left unbound, flowing down her back with every graceful, fluid movement. Her beauty was striking; it was an ethereal, chilling perfection that commanded reverence.
For a fleeting moment, even Algernon, constantly surrounded by the stunning beauty of Rias, Akeno, and Kuroka, was caught in a trance, his sharp focus momentarily faltering. He instantly recovered, however.
He still sat on the throne, his demeanor utterly still, with no intention of starting the conversation.
After a few tense moments, the lady paused, performed a deep, formal bow, her silver hair cascading around her. "Greetings, Your Majesty," she stated, her voice crystalline and filled with profound respect.
Algernon accepted the greeting silently, his gaze unwavering. He finally spoke, his voice measured and deep. "So, what do I owe this beautiful head of the Lucifuge house this late meeting?"
This simple address revealed her identity: Grayfia Lucifuge.
Grayfia rose from her bow, her posture immaculate. "Your Majesty is most kind," she replied. "I am here, first, to apologize for not being here before."
She then executed a precise, formal drop to one knee, a visible act of profound submission and urgency. "My delay was due to handling critical internal matters. Your Majesty, there is a painful issue I must address regarding the involvement of Euclid Lucifuge with the Khaos Brigade. He was assumed to be deceased, and his actions are entirely his own. I respectfully request that his involvement does not implicate the entire Lucifuge Clan."
As her voice died down, a low chuckle escaped Algernon's mouth. He didn't move from the throne, his eyes half-lidded. "Euclid Lucifuge," he murmured, his voice utterly dismissive. "He means nothing to me. I didn't even bother to remember his name. I only now recall that your hair matches his."
Grayfia's tense posture eased momentarily, a breath of relief catching in her throat as she started to assume this was acceptance of her request.
Algernon's eyes narrowed, and his tone instantly shifted from lazy dismissal to cold, piercing focus. "BUT."
The single word was a sudden, jarring halt to the negotiation. Grayfia looked up, her expression confused.
"I don't care about him doesn't mean others do the same," Algernon stated, tapping his fingers lightly on his chin. "In this new Empire, all transactions require equivalent value. What is in it for me?"
Grayfia looked genuinely stunned by the blunt, brutal pragmatism. She stammered slightly, the question clearly foreign to her political upbringing.
Algernon repeated the demand, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "What do I get to protect the House Lucifuge?"
Algernon's question silenced her as she fell into deep thought. Grayfia remained perfectly still on one knee, her mind ruthlessly evaluating the price of her clan's survival. Algernon didn't urge her; he simply kept tapping his fingers against the obsidian armrest, waiting for the answer he expected.
As soon as Grayfia got up, her face changed from confusion to fierce determination. She looked straight at the Emperor, her eyes blazing with sacrifice.
"I can do anything to protect House Lucifuge, Your Majesty," she declared, her voice firm and absolute. "Everything I have inherited from my father, every asset, every resource—I will give my everything to protect it."
Algernon's serious face finally broke into a smile—a slow, profound expression filled with confidence that quickly transformed into a cold, delighted laughter.
The laughter cut off abruptly. Algernon flicked his finger, and the air between him and Grayfia shrieked. Space tore open, not in a chaotic void, but in a controlled rift of pure power. From the dimensional breach, a ribbon of crimson-black lightning emerged, followed by a single, ornate object: a Queen Piece, whose brilliant light instantly flooded the hall, fading all other details except its intense glow.
Algernon spoke, his voice ringing with absolute, possessive authority. "As you can see, I have a Queen Piece still waiting to be taken. And its wait is finally over."
Algernon finished speaking as he stood up for the first time since he sat on the throne, towering over the kneeling Lucifuge matriarch.
Algernon moved. He stepped down from the dais with slow, deliberate motion, his heavy armored boots hitting the polished marble floor with a constant, resonant sound that echoed the finality of his decision. He reached the Queen Piece, which pulsed brightly between them.
He snatched the piece from the air and moved toward Grayfia with a swift, unstoppable motion. She stood still watching him progress. Algernon pressed the glowing piece firmly into her chest.
The result was immediate and explosive. A blinding pillar of silver-black lightning—Grayfia's inherent magic—shot upward, momentarily engulfing the entire hall and blending violently with the ambient crimson-black energy of Algernon's own aura. The floor beneath them groaned under the sheer volume of power transfer.
Grayfia bent slightly, a silent gasp escaping her lips as the immense, primordial power of the mutated Queen Piece flooded her being. Then, with a fierce, tearing sound, five pairs of magnificent silver-black wings erupted from her back, signaling the profound metamorphosis.
The power surge settled, leaving Grayfia standing tall and unwavering. The Queen Piece had successfully forced her to the pinnacle of Satan Class. She was now a powerhouse of unparalleled skill and defense, needing only to understand and command her own Law to break through the final barrier and ascend to the level of a Super Devil.
Algernon smiled, his eyes gleaming. He had acquired the perfect Queen.
As Grayfia stood, absorbing the raw, exhilarating pressure of her new power, Algernon moved. He stepped into the space between them, his motion swift and fluid, closing the distance until they were mere inches apart.
Grayfia's face remained outwardly calm, a testament to her lifelong discipline, even as the magnificent five pairs of silver-black wings flexed behind her. Algernon looked deep into her unique Red-Silver eyes, seeing the reflection of his own face framed by the chaos he had just unleashed.
He suddenly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him in a strong, absolute embrace, giving her no time to analyze or react. His face magnified in her eyes as their lips met. The kiss was brief, fierce, and utterly possessive.
Algernon broke the connection abruptly, maintaining his grip for only another fraction of a second before releasing her. He turned instantly, his back to her, leaving her stunned and breathless in the center of the hall, her five pairs of wings still trembling from the shock of the power exchange. His heavy, armored boots resumed their sound as he walked back toward the obsidian throne.
"I have marked you," Algernon announced, his voice ringing with power and finality throughout the silent hall. "From now on, you're mine, and you can only be mine."
Algernon's words—the ultimate possessive claim—hung in the air. He continued his walk toward the dais. He ascended the steps and settled back onto the obsidian throne, his movement precise and authoritative.
Grayfia, left alone in the center of the vast hall, slowly regained her footing. Her face, a mask of aristocratic discipline, was utterly calm, but the intense shock of the kiss and the power infusion was evident in the singular detail of her hands: they were trembling almost imperceptibly at her sides.
Algernon looked down at her from his throne, his gaze cold and absolute.
"Your duties are immediate, Grayfia," Algernon stated, his tone shifting instantly from personal dominance back to imperial necessity. "I have no time for the inefficient chaos of the old system. The foundation of any strong empire is its treasury."
He delivered her command, placing her in a position of critical trust and power.
"You are hereby appointed the Imperial Chief Financial Strategist. You will be in charge of all finances, maintaining meticulous records, and managing every aspect of the Empire's resources. More crucially, you will ensure resources are distributed appropriately—no more hoarding or corruption. You will report directly and only to me."
Grayfia instantly shed the lingering shock, her innate sense of duty taking over. She dropped to one knee, the trembling in her hand ceasing as professional resolve hardened her expression.
"It will be done, Your Majesty," she accepted, her voice regaining its steady, crystalline composure. "The Empire's coffers and resources will be flawless."
Algernon listened to Grayfia's acceptance, his gaze unwavering. He reached out his arm, condensing a complex, silver-threaded magical seal—a physical representation of his imperial authority and her new office.
He extended the seal. "Take this, Grayfia. It represents the absolute authority of your office. Now, leave this place and assume your post. The resources of the empire are now your sole responsibility."
Grayfia accepted the seal with both hands, its cold metal contrasting with her warm palm. She bowed one final time, a figure of renewed, terrifying administrative resolve, and vanished from the hall.
Algernon remained seated, the immense, silent hall his alone. He leaned forward, a private, satisfied smile touching his lips. He lowered his voice, murmuring: "One more thing to do before I can continue to claim the reward."
Algernon vanished from the obsidian throne.
_________________________________________________________
In an elegantly appointed hall of a private, ancient manor. The air here was calm and profoundly dignified, imbued with magic older than most devil houses.
A middle-aged looking man with black hair and peaceful violet eyes was standing near a low table. He wore a nobleman's attire, and an almost physical aura of strong dignity exuded from him. He paused the methodical process of stirring the coffee he was drinking before setting his cup down.
The man stood up and calmly began preparing one more cup. He looked at the seemingly empty air beside a velvet sofa.
"I trust the journey was swift?" the man inquired softly, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness. He lifted the sugar bowl and looked at the vacant space. "And how many spoons of sugar would be fine?"
The hall was still for a single moment, before a voice, casual yet possessing overwhelming authority, answered.
"Two spoons would be fine," Algernon said, materializing instantly onto the velvet sofa, entirely at ease. "As expected of someone who has played a significant role in history and has appeared in the Bible, the first head of the Bael Clan, Zekram Bael. I didn't expect demon race to have another super devil"
Zekram smiled, a faint, weary expression. He finished preparing the cup and pushed it across the table. "I rarely have visitors who know me, much less my preferred sweetener." He finally acknowledged the victor of the Underworld with a simple question.
"Algernon Azeroth, if I am correct?" Zekram asked.
Algernon took the proffered cup of coffee, the aroma mingling pleasantly with the subtle magical energies of the room. He didn't rush to reply. He simply took a slow sip, his gaze cold and calculating as he observed the ancient devil across from him.
Algernon set the cup down carefully. "To continue with the required discretion, Lord Bael," he stated, his voice flat. "It was I who ordered Diehauser to dismantle the Great King Faction you founded."
Zekram Bael received the confession without the slightest tremor. He calmly lifted his own cup, his violet eyes meeting Algernon's with an unnerving, weary wisdom.
"I have no doubt of it," Zekram replied. "When you changed the rules today by defeating the Satans—the very same individuals I personally recruited into the Anti-Satan Faction in preparation for the Devil Civil War—and declaring the founding of the Azeroth Empire, I had already connected the dots."
Zekram paused, sipping his coffee. "You swept away the old mess and established a new order in hours."
Algernon leaned back on the sofa, a flicker of genuine curiosity in his expression. "You seem surprisingly calm."
(END OF CHAPTER)
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