Scene 1
Ten POV
"To think one of us completed that elusive goal. I'll have to triple my efforts if I want children of my own."
Keeping my face still, I looked at this cycle's Persephone. In some ways, she was a breath of fresh air after never meeting the one who had birthed me and Cueljuris. At the same time, I understood the position she was placing me in by drawing me into her family's orbit.
In this cycle, she was still the daughter of Demeter and Zeus, just as the old myth claimed. Unlike my mother, who had been born from the Underworld's soil after Zeus shattered any real semblance of balance.
"Both her and my father are odd gods," I said. "The odds of either of them ever following through on a plan like that should've been next to impossible. But I'm beginning to see where they found the inspiration, especially if your goals align with my mother's."
The goal itself was simple.
A family.
Yet for gods like them, simple desires were often the very things most likely to start wars.
This cycle's Persephone was trapped between Demeter, Zeus, and Hades. Any pregnancy tied to her would be enough to push all three toward open conflict if the timing or father proved inconvenient enough.
"Lady Sitri, you have my blessing as well," Persephone said through the projection. "If you need me to strong-arm him into giving you an heir, then just give me a ring. Until he reaches God-King rank within our world, he is essentially stuck here with us unless my husband decides to put out a broadcast to every Hades in existence. Something I do not recommend, given his obsession with Olympus's throne."
I nodded to my mother's words, already understanding the deeper truth beneath the humor.
If I intended to remain as aloof here as I had in my own cycle, then I would need support from multiple directions. Backing. Structure. Layers of protection that did not depend entirely on my immediate strength.
That distance I once enjoyed had not appeared by accident.
It only became possible because I spent time building a foundation strong enough for the system to keep operating without my direct hand guiding every part of it. Mortals. Faith. Authority. Infrastructure. I would have to do the same here if I wished to step into God-King rank again.
Apollo of this world was not my real concern.
Once I regained enough strength, he would become manageable.
My true problem would begin afterward.
Competing with a pantheon head like Amaterasu was an entirely different matter, and no doubt part of the reason Michael had seen fit to support me with an equally ranked Sun claim from the Biblical faction the moment I unanchored Sun. He would be the direct winner once I eventually relinquished control over the Sun Domain I embodied more completely than most so-called Sun Gods.
"Good then," Lady Sitri said, placing a document bearing her sigil onto the table. "We will officially become a subordinate clan under you, Lady Persephone. The first alliance of its kind between a Devil Clan and a Major God."
Persephone smiled faintly before placing down her own sigil-marked paper in return.
Just like that, the agreement was sealed.
A mother's arrangement.
A historic one.
And one that effectively tied Serafall and me at the hip beneath Persephone's newly established authority as a Mother Goddess who had found the last key by meeting me.
I kept my expression steady, refusing to betray the pressure building behind my calm.
There would be backlash for this.
There was no world where I could test Persephone's freshly established authority without consequences spilling outward from it. But there was no value in voicing that aloud.
Instead, I watched as she dismissed the projection with a casual wave, proving once more how far I had fallen in rank if even a projection of hers could manhandle me so easily.
Afterward, we returned to the garden so Lady Sitri and I could continue our conversation in private.
Scene 2
"What kind of training do you people even push?"
Standing at the overlook beside Lady Sitri, I stared down at the soldiers spread across the grounds below. The Sitri Clan had called them regular foot soldiers, yet the quality of the force left much to be desired.
Some stood lazily with weapons resting against their shoulders. Others were seated where they pleased, talking more than watching, moving with the kind of carelessness that would have gotten men killed in any army worth respecting. Even from this distance I could see it clearly.
No edge.
No discipline.
No real warrior's spirit.
"None," Lady Sitri said. "It is considered taboo to teach non-noble devils the methods our clans use to raise heirs. The cost of such actions outweighed the benefits on nearly every level."
I shook my head at her answer, finding the idea so flawed it bordered on stupidity.
"No wonder anyone who isn't a god here has failed to realize the next steps needed to grow stronger. Everyone is clinging to inherited authority. Minus the Seventy-One Original Devils, Bael is clearly obsessed with preserving Lucifer's authority."
My eyes remained on the soldiers below.
"If this is the state of your common soldiers, then your people were never going to be capable of being respected as a true faction. What a lazy world I've entered. I can outgrow nearly everyone at this point just by living normally."
The words were blunt, but no less true for it.
A world suffering primarily from internal pressure sounded like a kind of utopia at first glance. But places like that always rotted in the same way.
Through stagnation.
Through comfort.
Through people growing too attached to what they had inherited to build anything greater.
"Regretfully, we had to hold back as well," Lady Sitri said. "Otherwise it would become a war of pure destruction like the last time a minor clan spread techniques it had no right to distribute. The difference now is that you are not technically under anyone."
She paused, watching my expression.
"While the King pieces were Bael's attempt at winning over family heads and heirs, Serafall traded with Ajuka for an additional piece. We still cannot move as if we can ignore everyone else. But while you possess a King piece, you can build your Devil Clan. And no one is eager to test an unknown heir being deliberately hidden from Heaven."
I laughed at the irony.
Even Serafall had been ordered to keep everything surrounding me under seal from Bael. His focus had landed on me, or more accurately, on my crown.
"Then I'll be unapologetic about building my clan," I said. "Although it'll be a sub-clan of warriors."
I discarded the thought of creating more versions of my own current racial makeup almost as quickly as it appeared. The very idea would ruin any chance of a balanced universe once I eventually left.
That would be blasphemy against my own nature.
My role was not to leave filth behind simply because I had the power to do so. Things were either ended cleanly for the next beginning, or their edges were trimmed enough to maintain a proper cycle.
"We're close enough to vanish into the Demon Forest if you truly want harsh conditions," Lady Sitri said. "I will only limit you to those who agree to your offer. If these soldiers want another chance I cannot give them, then it will come from you."
I nodded as I watched the force below continue wasting the daylight.
It would be wrong to say my warriors trained every day and night without rest.
But they had at least been Golden Cycle mortals, born at the threshold of divinity like every world's true golden age.
These devils could barely be called children with the nonexistent warrior's spirit most of them carried so naturally.
Sirzechs' guards had possessed more edge than this. Even through Tí's memories, I recalled the way those soldiers had immediately put him on guard when they enclosed around me after my arrival. That reaction had forced him outside my Grotto Heart before it was fully sealed, leaving him stuck assimilating the Sun Michael had given him.
That alone made the difference even more insulting.
"Tell the commander to meet me in the library," I said to the maid standing nearby. "I need to hand out basic workouts and training regimens to force them into shape for now."
The maid bowed before heading off toward the city spread beneath the palace.
Lady Sitri turned her eyes back toward me.
"Then I'll leave you to it," she said, patting my shoulder lightly. "Good luck."
I watched her go while already running through simulations in my head.
How best to use their naturally stronger bodies.
How to turn lazy devils into a functioning army.
How hard their first debut would need to hit so that I would be banned from fielding them openly, while gaining enough leverage to argue others off the board as well.
In truth, that first appearance was the real issue.
It needed to be violent enough to matter.
Scene 3
Lady Sitri POV
One month later
"You're playing a dangerous game, love."
Standing beside my husband, I watched the field below where thousands of low-ranking devils had begun throwing their names forward for Tenebris' training program. The response had swelled so quickly we had already been forced to limit formal testing to once every six months.
Anything less would have sparked a riot.
And while I could crush a rebellion if one formed inside my territory, lives would still be lost. Territory would still be damaged. Growth would still be hindered at a time when we needed every scrap of progress we could gather.
Tenebris was pushing limits of his own as well.
He only used basic supplies, even restricting the successful groups to rations most ordinary soldiers would not willingly touch. The standard for failure had become simple. If a recruit failed the day's training, then they ate the worst of what was available. If they grew strong enough to last through the field exercises, they earned the right to hunt along the outer edges of the Demon Forest for better meat.
Only those strong enough to hunt were allowed to eat well.
Tenebris, despite being a devil aligned with Gluttony, restricted himself to eating only what he personally hunted. In doing so, he proved to the soldiers that he was not above the rules he imposed on them.
That was when I first realized this training had already become something more dangerous.
The first true moment that required everyone's trust had come through my own maids and surgeons. Publicly, Tenebris had allowed his Demi-God status to be sealed down to the level of a low-ranking devil before going through the same regimen as everyone else.
That single act had changed everything.
He had turned the first training round into his personal guard if I had ever seen one.
"Risk is the only way to break stagnation," I said. "This civil war is pointless when you think about the fact that all the Satans are dead. Their clans only hold as much power as Bael is willing to fight for. Lucifer's own children barely care about this war, let alone the Super Devil Satan Lucifer fathered into this Underworld."
I glanced at my husband, letting the truth settle before continuing.
"If he truly cared, then Sirzechs' claim to his father's throne would be moot in the face of his strength. Even the Seventy-One Original Devils would side with him if he cared enough to act. Bael aiding Sirzechs is no secret to any of us. So I'll play my own cards to secure Leviathan for Serafall."
My gaze returned to the field.
"After all, there is no doubt Bael will make another move if she reaches the seat. Lady Gremory already warned me of the plans to restrict the girls from true clan affairs once they take their titles anyway."
My husband opened his mouth as if to interrupt, only to stop once he understood the deeper issue beneath my words.
The problem was not simply Bael.
It was the quiet understanding all of us carried where that man was concerned.
He would support the girls only as long as their success remained useful to his own vision of order.
"Then I'll also mobilize my clan to start migrating here," he said after a moment. "It'll be earlier than planned, but the best time is now while they still have a chance to latch onto the next generation."
I nodded once.
That was the truth of it.
We were both restricted from making larger moves unless we wanted the Clan Heads answering us directly. But that only made smaller, sharper moves more important.
And Tenebris had already proven himself exactly that.
A sharp move.
One dangerous enough to cut through stagnation itself.