The Way of a Demon Lord

Sorry for the one chapter releases for the last couple of days. I was busty journeying from one city to another, and of course- my second vaccine shot. It was a bit more painful than the last one. I don't know if it's normal or not. But who cares? It's still better than catching a fever and lying on the bed for three whole days (a case one of my friends faced). Anyways, I am doing quite fine now, with only a small portion of the pain from yesterday lingering.

The next week, I will try to drop in some extra chapters along with the regular two chapters as compensation. Stay tuned! Enjoy!

******

The Dreamscape Castle.

The establishment belonged to none other than the Raymond House- the ruling family of Edenshield, the most fortified city in the world. And this enterprise, whose primary goal seemed to serve the rich, had more than it met the eyes.

On the surface, this business entertained the highest echelons of the society. But deep underneath, it was a place for meeting- a place where the 'light' of the surface, and the 'dark' of the Underworld met.

Beneath the huge establishment, a dozen meters underground, there existed a large room. Naturally there were no windows. But the high quality light magic circles, secretly smuggled from the Confederation, illuminated the whole room with 'sunlight'.

There were dozens of paintings hanging around the wall. Most of them depicted aristocratic men who stood on the battlefield, fighting against either a ragtag group of soldiers representing the Confederation or ferocious groups of magical monsters.

And a few them had priests, either battling their adversaries or preaching to the mass. Those pictures had a brighter tone.

But there were two pictures which stood out- not for their craftsmanship or anything- but the darker shades. One of them had a humongous group of dark skinned and bald men crushing magical beasts. While the other had a group of men who looked nothing but average, with their cheap clothings and ordinary features, fighting valiantly against the soldiers from the Confederation.

At the epicentre of the room, there was a huge round table. On four sides, lied luxurious concave seats. And on four of the sofas, sat one man each.

One of them was a middle aged man with light beard, wearing a khaki fur coat. He was impeccably dressed, just like a higher noble should.

On the seat beside him, sat a young man. Not only was he the youngest in the room, he was also the only level 8. But despite that, there was not a tinge of worry written on his face. He was wearing a golden robe with the insignia of a sun sewn on the chest.

Beside him was a bald man with dark skin- the biggest in the room. His beastly eyes darted around, before finally stopping on the one beside him- his lifelong 'rival'.

Among the four, the old man looked the most average- plain dress, unkempt hair, and an unforgettable face. But the aura he emitted was the grandest. And in the tense atmosphere where everyone looked at each other with scoff, he was the only one who garnered hints of respect from the other three.

The average old man broke the deafening silence with a sigh. "Marco- he did not return."

"And nor did Ragor." The big man's eyes twitched.

"I hired Ishatar through one of my subordinates." The noble said. "She did not report anything back as well."

"So our conjectures- they were correct. There's a new faction in Edenshield." The bishop frowned.

"It's one thing to form a faction right here in Edenshield." The nobleman scowled. "But to abduct the princess? It's treason!" He slammed the table.

"Relax." The old man's voice oozed wisdom. "Nothing is confirmed yet. You are just taking out the reprimands the Imperial family gave on an unknown party."

The man sighed, barely composing himself. "Yes. We must confirm everything before we make a move. Be them the culprit or not, it doesn't change the fact that they are strong- and extremely so, capable of defeating numerous high levels without causing a commotion. The whorehouse was busy yesterday."

The wise old man sighed again. "Kill. I secretly sent some of my men, only to keep a watch. The magical energy of everyone, except Ishtar, suddenly disappeared."

The other three knitted their brows.

"All at once?" The bishop asked.

The man shook his head. "One of them died earlier, while the rest of the five died at once. And two of those five were Marco and Ragor."

All of them took in a cold breath.

"It's him." The bishop said. "The Devil."

"Even you are getting to assumptions." The wise man said.

"I am sure." The young man answered. "I am the only one among you who witnessed 'his' power. He could have easily killed me if he wanted." His voice began to tremble as beads of sweat appeared on his face. "That ma- that being- can easily kill level 8s, even the ones as strong as me. Even if he is not calamity class, he is not far from it. And how could two such individuals come out of nowhere? The Pink Willows- it definitely belongs to the Devil."

"Calamity classes are coming out of nowhere nowadays." The old man said. "There are two new ones in the Rebellion. There might be two more here in the Underworld as well."

The others took a deep breath. Maybe that was the case.

"But whatever the case." The nobleman frowned. "We can not let a new party, and a powerful one at that, roam around wildly in my territory. Moreover, not even a year remains until it becomes pandemonium."

"Agreed." The wise man said. "They must either join us, or die."

Everyone turned to the big man, who remained mostly silent. He had some history with the new party after all.

"Don't mind me." The man said in his grim voice.

"In the underworld, this is the rule."