The panic didn't last.
Fear never did in Lust Ring.
Within days, the shock caused by Prince Paimon's movement in Pride Ring began fading into rumor.
Rumor into gossip.
Gossip into jokes demons told to hide how shaken they truly were.
But Sin Rouge Ouroboros didn't waste the opportunity.
Fear in others was fuel for them.
ONE WEEK AFTER THE EXPANSION
The map no longer fit on the table.
Rafe had moved it to a larger steel slab Bit and Skit welded together after Dreg snapped the old one by "leaning too hard."
"Look at this," Rafe said, tapping the lines. "Four blocks here. Three here. And the whole south east junction practically handed us their keys."
Donnie adjusted her glasses.
"I still can't believe they surrendered without a fight. If Paimon hadn't moved"
"If Paimon hadn't moved," Rafe cut in, "they'd all be dead by now anyway."
Dreg snorted.
"And now they're ours. Easy."
Malerion leaned over the table, expression unreadable.
He wasn't greedy.
Wasn't triumphant.
Looked like a builder checking the foundation of a structure he expected to stand for decades.
Bit pointed at a corner block.
"No one wants this one. Too many disappearances."
Skit nodded quickly.
"It's cursed territory."
Dreg clapped their shoulders.
"'Cursed' just means someone got sloppy."
"No," Malerion said quietly.
The room froze.
"We leave that district for later. Not until everything else stabilizes."
Donnie nodded sharply.
"Agreed. Logistics would choke if we expand too fast."
That was when the door opened softly.
Liza stepped in silent, efficient, eyes sharp as always.
"Scouting teams report no resistance so far," she said. "But the gangs we absorbed are nervous."
Rafe chuckled.
"Good. Fear keeps people polite."
Liza shook her head.
"No. Nervous like they expect us to collapse."
"They won't," Malerion said. "Not if we train them properly."
"And that," Liza answered, "is your next problem."
She placed a folder on the table.
Charts. Behavior notes. Loyalty projections.
Liza always knew where the cracks would appear.
And Quill was right behind her, carrying a crate of new suppressor crystals and prototype comm devices.
He set them down with a heavy sigh.
"Okay, before any of you idiots break something: I upgraded the stabilizers and communication runes. Growing territory means more chaos. I'd like fewer emergencies for once."
Rafe raised a brow.
"You mean fewer emergencies you have to fix?"
"Yes," Quill said. "Exactly that."
MALERION'S SILENT FOCUS
When night fell, the others drifted off to their duties.
Only Malerion stayed behind.
The Fifth Ring inside him felt like condensed gravity quiet, dense, powerful.
His domain, still young, flickered under his skin like a new muscle awakening.
Alastor hummed in the back of his mind.
"You're becoming quite comfortable. Dangerous, even."
Malerion exhaled.
"I'm not stopping."
"Of course not," the Radio Demon purred.
Malerion ignored the comment.
But a part of him welcomed it.
He wasn't afraid anymore.
Not of destiny , canon , Hell.
And certainly not of his own evolution.
OUROBOROS TRAINING BEGINS
The next morning, he assembled the inner circle in the training hall.
Dreg cracked his knuckles.
"Oh yeah. Finally."
Rafe stretched.
"Try not to destroy the flooring this time."
"Keep talking and I'll destroy you instead."
"Promises, promises."
Bit whispered to Skit:
"Do they always threaten each other like that?"
Skit sighed.
"Every morning."
Malerion raised his hand.
Silence.
"We've taken too much territory too fast," he said. "Our structure needs to grow."
Donnie nodded.
Liza crossed her arms.
Quill scribbled notes already.
Malerion continued:
"Dreg you're in charge of shaping the fighters we absorbed. I want discipline. No more small packs, no splinter loyalties. Bring them under a single system."
Dreg grinned wide.
"Finally. Real soldiers."
"Rafe," Malerion said. "Expand the communication web. Eyes and ears across every district."
"Already on it."
"Bit, Skit control supply lines. Weapons, food, materials. We're too big now to let shortages happen."
Both saluted enthusiastically.
"Donnie," he added, "handle finances and contracts. Stabilize everything we just acquired."
She smirked.
"With pleasure."
Then Malerion turned to the last two at the table.
"Liza. Quill."
Both straightened immediately.
"Liza you handle internal loyalty. Keep every absorbed group from fracturing. If anyone plots rebellion, we shut it down quietly."
Liza nodded slowly, eyes glinting.
"Already listening."
"Quill improve our tech infrastructure. We need stable channels, shielded safehouses, and more devices like the ones you built for my breakthrough."
Quill groaned.
"You understand I don't sleep anymore, right?"
"No one here sleeps," Dreg barked.
"Yeah but I notice!"
Malerion placed a hand on Quill's shoulder.
"Your work holds this entire organization together."
Quill froze, then swallowed.
"…Fine. I'll do it."
Weeks passed.
Then months.
Lust Ring returned to its regular chaos.
The story of Paimon killing an Overlord faded into rumor again.
But Ouroboros didn't fade.
They grew.
Territory stabilized.
Income rose.
Recruits adapted.
The public no longer whispered their name they recognized it.
Inside Malerion, the Fifth Ring deepened further.
His domain responded faster, sharper, cleaner.
Bit said it felt like the air thickened when he activated it.
Skit said it was like stepping into a pressure chamber.
Liza said it made weak-willed demons obedient.
Quill said it fried his tracking runes.
Dreg?
Dreg just said:
"Feels like a challenge. I like it."
And Rafe simply muttered:
"Whatever you're becoming… it's working."
One night, Malerion stood on the balcony of the new headquarters, overlooking their expanded territory.
The neon haze glowed like a living organism.
Alastor whispered:
"One year from now… you won't even recognize this place."
Malerion nodded once.
"Good."
Because the next year
would change everything.
14 years to canon