Hell's Consort

<strong>Newest Chapter for the Highest Tier (February 2022)</strong>

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<strong>Archdemon of Gluttony</strong>

<strong>  Prince Ravin of the First Circle of Hell</strong>

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But, the Wisteria flowers only worked on demons…. unless the Vampire King was already a demon before he lost his mind and attacked Amare?

He threw that thought out of the window.

Ravin didn't want to dwell on the fact that the Vampire King was slowly turning into an Archdemon because he had drank Luna's blood and his, though, indirectly.

Who owned the blood that his wife was drinking from lately?

Maybe, this was the reason why the bastard was a bit impervious to Hellfire even though the Archdemon and the Vampiric Fae in him were fighting for domination.

At least, he was still alive…but barely breathing.

Suppose the Vampire King would ever turn into a demon. In that case, the small fraction of his demonic venom might aid him to transition properly since Amare's blood had already prepared his body for this… or the juice of the divine wisteria blooms mixed on his wine would prevent him from doing so.

There might be a chance that this could be the last straw that would break the camel's back… and kill him.

Ravin hoped it would be the latter, but unfortunately, that particular outcome wouldn't be good for him either because if that happened, he and Sloth would be subjected to eternal suffering if he broke the oaths.

Ignoring the destruction his Hellfire had caused in the Great Hall,  he focused his attention on the Vampire King once more and attempted to wake him up, but he was still unconscious.

He was in utter disbelief that Amare would choose such a weakling over him no matter what he did. Nevertheless, it appeared like the poison he had injected into Apollyon's shoulder had kicked in.

His pale complexion had darkened a little.

The tips of his raven hair had turned silver.

Dark markings had come in various patterns across his skin after being burned by Hellfire.

It was too late for Ravin to realize that the Vampire King was already too exposed to Archdemon blood.

Still, Ravin wished that Apollyon wouldn't turn into a full Archdemon and give him the edge to overpower him.

He tried to keep his face neutral and relax the tension in the muscles.

It was nothing to be concerned about because the concoction which Apollyon had drunk in his wine will do the trick.

Ravin's senses had grown dull again, and he could gradually feel the consequences of biting an infected half-demon on the shoulder.

Ravin moved the Vampire King's head to the side with the pointed shoe of his boot so that he could better look at his darkened face.

The Vampire King was bleeding heavily, and the expanse of his pale skin was peeled off along with his burning clothes.

Since the flames were extinguished by the puddle of liquid from the wines, the bastard survived despite Ravin desiring the opposite.

All was well that ended well.

Ravin licked his lips to wet his mouth that had gone dry from ingesting the drug from the Vampire King's bloodstream.

"The threat had been subdued—" Ravin announced to no one in particular as he jutted his chin, staring down at Apollyon's scorched limbs sprawled on the ground. '--and killed the rest by accident due to my carelessness.' Yet, he wasn't about to admit that out loud.

Others may not seem to listen or care about what he had done to save these people, but his words will ring true forever in their minds, soothing the wounds of despair and violence in this Kingdom.

He might not see the rest if he wouldn't examine their glamours too closely, but he felt a swelling tide of emotion around him.

The faeries finally felt safe enough to remove their glamour and cried tears of grief, sadness, and despair for the future of the Hazelnut Manor.

They allowed themselves to be held and comforted by the nearest fae they could find.

Ravin had no idea that playing a savior could inflate his ego like this.

The excellent experience had moved him to the core.

Ravin only noticed that fae aristocrats had remained. Indeed, he couldn't differentiate them and the servants because their fancy clothes were in tatters from the Hellfire that wouldn't let them escape.

Closing his lids shut, Ravin took a deep breath and exhaled, expelling nausea and welcoming the cold air from the outside.

When he opened his eyes, he turned towards the faeries who remained in ruins.

All of them stepped backward and returned his scrutiny with fearful stares as if they expected Ravin to kill them next after he was done with the Lord of the House.

A minor loss of control washed over Ravin, and he didn't like it.

He had to sit down and think for a while before solving the problem.

He had no one to talk to because all his companions had left except for the remaining servants who had heavily relied on his decision.

So, he decided to talk—no, 'interrogate' was the word—  to them and demanded more information regarding the visitors. Of course, they were grateful, but the lesser faeries couldn't help but be anxious.

"We thought the blackout was part of the magician's stage, but it turned out to be real." A brave maidservant blurted out, her arms shaking with dread.

Everyone was afraid of him, but they still replied out of respect.

Sometimes, he gave them some breathing room after all that pressure and this was what he found out.

Their enemy had disguised himself really well and they had their patters down cold.

It turned out that a lot of circus performers had gone missing after the blackout as if it was part of a disappearing act.

The opera singer in red robes was the prime suspect.

'She had stopped singing after the lights had  turned back on—', according to one and several witnesses he asked also affirmed this,  '—and then she was nowhere to be found.'