Aaron's body was moving before the elites of the Seven Head Order could react, his sword arching brilliantly through the air and towards the throat of the pale Sovereign.
KRAAANG!
With a flick of his wrist, Azaroth Pane stopped the blade, his eyes scanning its runic engravings closely as he held it by the edge.
"How fascinating… The weapon of the God Slayer in the hands of someone like you."
He laughed, the sound of his voice echoing through the cavern like an explosion.
The blond-haired boy didn't let his failure cease his attempt to kill the one he wished death upon the most, his metallic leg firing on all cylinders as it jolted with mana.
Yet as the leg forged from the tooth of the Apex-terror collided with the horned man's throat, it creaked, then groaned, and finally came to a halt.
With a mere touch, every ounce of power within the limb was extracted as the horned man continued his laughter.
"You wish to kill me this much? Or perhaps you hold a grudge against this body's original host…"
Pondering the thought for a moment, he slowly stretched out his free hand, his other still holding firmly on to the Ocean's Bane.
Aaron tried to fight against the black-haired man as he wrapped his pale fingers around his throat; however, no matter how much he resisted, it didn't seem to matter.
For that was a true force of nature, an unpassable, unattainable level higher than he could ever climb, even with all his latent talent.
He knew that without the Ghostship's protection tightly woven around his flesh, he would've burst into flames the moment the man had grabbed him.
As his breathing was restricted and his body was effortlessly lifted into the air, the boy could not help but feel the man's words with every inch of his body.
"You must be the child responsible for the death of Adam, am I correct?"
Waiting for a response that Aaron could not give, even if he wanted, the halfling furrowed his brow and posed another question.
"Are you one of that man's pawns as well? Or perhaps the king in his elaborate game of Palendromia?[1]"
Aaron gritted his teeth, spitting out a clump of saliva that was vaporized in seconds just from approaching the Devil.
"G-go… to… hell…"
The black-haired man sighed at the boy's words, his grip loosening enough for the boy to fall to the ground with a thud.
"How rude…"
Wiping the ash that had cluttered his suit after the boy's fall, he yawned, looking towards the three elites behind him.
"Leave at once. The Great One has deemed that this seal does not pose any problem for his descent, and identified this child as the more significant obstacle."
He gestured towards Aaron, who tried to stand up, only to be pushed down by an illusory force that stopped him in his tracks.
The three members of the Order showed various degrees of doubt and objection on their faces, but only Portman spoke up.
"My lord, why is it that the Great One has ordered us to abandon the seal simply because of this one runt? With a flick of your wrist, you could—"
Before he could react, he was on the ground, writhing under an invisible force just like the blond boy, and gasping for air as the horned man walked over slowly.
"Oh, my dear Portman… If only you had the common sense that your sister had before I put that bullet in her head…"
Stopping by his subordinate's side, he raised his right leg over the man's head, and the other two watched in shock as a knife popped from the ball of his boot.
Then, in one swift motion, he slammed his foot downward, stabbing the blade into the man's hand, drawing out a thin stream of crimson blood.
"The Great One is not to be questioned. Nor is it your place to tell me what I should, or should not do."
Without extracting the blade from the man's hand, he straightened his tie, turning towards the other two.
"This boy's patron is far more dangerous than anything you could imagine. As of yet, I do not fully grasp his connection to him; however, I believe that if we were to murder one of his kin, we would not be spared in the fallout following his escape."
A rush of cool air fell over the magma-filled chamber, and Azaroth's attention streaked across the surroundings before falling squarely on an old acquaintance.
"Hello, Thorn."
The horned man disappeared from his position in a flash of black smoke, only to instantly reappear in front of the Sea King.
Cauron stared at the Sovereign of Chains with uninhibited loathing, the mana in the room growing tense as their bloodlusts collided.
"Is your wife well? How about Twynam? Is he back in your good graces?"
Each word the halfling spoke was like a dagger in the orange-haired man's throat, his expression falling after every precise stab.
Then, as a smile came across the monster's face, his final remark left his mouth.
"What of Orion? I haven't heard from him in months, and I was sure you'd know! Of all people, I know how close you were to that fledgling 'King of Curses', so there has to be something you can tell me… Perhaps… about his death?"
He chuckled loudly, the chamber shaking as he did so, making the King of Life seethe with pure rage.
Thorn tried to speak, but found the internal bleeding restraining his diaphragm, his already rigid breathing becoming even more laborious.
"Heh… The King of Life is on the verge of losing his own… How ironic."
The horned man swung his leg, kicking the already dying man straight in the chest, and thus reopening the long-since cauterized wound where his arm was missing.
Straightening up right away, he vanished back into a plume of darkness, appearing right before Aaron Grimstall's face once more.
"Now then, shall we talk seriously?"
He snapped his fingers, a veil of liquid shadows shooting out from his hand and covering a small sphere around the two.
The blond boy glanced around, reminded of his visits to the Old Man within his pocket dimension.
The barrier surrounding them was clearly far weaker than what the Old Man had in place; however, he could see similarities, as if one had been inspired by the other.
"I must ask before we begin, so please do not think of me as rude."
There was a pause as he summoned an illusory chair to sit in, a sigh escaping his mouth.
"Why do you follow that man? Do you even have any idea what he has done?"
Aaron stared daggers into the Devil, his murderous intent so strong that it could outclass even that of a terror.
He did not respond, only positioned himself to face the one he had declared as his enemy, with his hands resting beside his sheath, which was regretfully empty.
"No answer? How curious… I expect you know that he is a murderer, correct? If the sword you have is any indication, he must trust you to an extent greater than anyone since his arrival in this world."
A gentle sizzle came from the edge of his chair, the fabric seat slowly burning away with each word.
Just like how the Old Man's realm, which was held together by that magical mirror, began to erode over time, limiting the duration of each visit, the black-haired man's barrier would also break down soon.
"With such trust, there must come secrets. And with secrets, there must come answers. I wish for the simplest form of truth from you, something so insignificant that even the Knowledge Barrier wouldn't gripe over it being spoken."
His lips began to curl upward, his anticipation clearly evident.
Aaron remained silent, not an ounce of enthusiasm detectable anywhere across his expression or body language.
Realizing that his words would not yield any harvest, the man scoffed, moving on to his main request before they wasted any more time.
"All I ask is that you tell me the location of the descendant of Nautilus. He is a pesky human that must be dealt with immediately, and as a blessed of the Slayer, I would assume you know best."
Relaxing into his gradually disintegrating chair, he waited for the boy's answer, a cold frown coming across the child's pale lips.
Regardless of whether he knew the answer or not, Azaroth Pane could tell that he wouldn't share anything with him, an utter silence stretching between them.
"Hmm… There are always other ways of extracting words from your lips. Perhaps you have a mother, a father, a girlfriend, a pet, or even a—"
He stopped himself, his attention drawn to the sight of Aaron's lips parting for the first time since they entered the isolated space.
"Why?"
Aaron let out a single word, at which the black-haired man recoiled in confusion, the seemingly random interjection not quite making sense to him.
"Why, do you ask? If you do not give me the information I request, then I must resort to more unsavory methods, however reluctantly."
Unsure as to why the boy would ask a question that had already been answered, he prepared to continue his threat; however, he was interrupted yet again.
"No. Why did you kill all those people…?"
The man's cheek twitched, a tinge of annoyance bubbling under his skin as he slowly began to answer.
"You'll have to be more specific."
Aaron's scowl deepened, his words coming out with ice-like ferocity, chilling and full of accusation.
"Why did you kill the people of Sea Fallen? Was it for that core? Was it revenge? Or was it…"
He trailed off, his mind so full of anger that he couldn't properly process his thoughts enough to continue.
Staring up at the black-haired man without another word, he waited for a response, one that would come soon after.
Slowly, the Devil's lips turned upward, the clean white teeth bleeding through his slightly parted lips.
"Why…? Well… I simply needed a distraction, that's all… I could've destroyed any city, or perhaps, not even a city at all. Maybe I did it just because I could, or maybe because it would kill the most people."
He laughed, his eyes betraying his glee.
"Without the interference of Nautilus, it truly could've been grand. The deaths of the entire city compared to only the deaths of a couple of thousand. Oh, how I would've loved to devour the flesh of zombified mortals once more!"
Aaron's expression dropped, his skin running cold, and his face draining of any color.
With great effort, he stood up, resisting the force applied by the Sovereign of Chains, who only tilted his head, still seated comfortably in his chair.
Its body began to burn away far faster than before, their time in that black space nearing its end as cracks opened across the shadowy barrier.
"..."
Azaroth narrowed his eyes in concentration as he heard the boy whisper something so quiet that he couldn't make it out.
"What was that?"
There was a pause as the blond boy took a step forward, the ring on his finger glowing a brilliant turquoise.
"I promise."
He spoke without a single ounce of emotion, a husk of the jolly boy he usually was.
"You will die by my hand."
Author's Note [1]: Classical board game played between noble houses or gambling arenas within the Dimension of Waves. It is played similarly to chess with Kings, Queens, and Pawns; however, it differs by having Mages, Priests, and Terrors that impact the game in unique ways.