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Chapter 92: Undercurrents.
🕑 Added 2025-10-31 09:23:54 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note:
Elias begins to realize that maybe they were a little too hasty with Iris’s decision, but it’s too late to stop it now. It’s still a good choice... just one with many, many risks attached. I wonder how it’ll all end, haha.
As for Zekram… I won’t lie, I struggled with his part a lot. I didn’t want a cartoonish antagonist, and I’m still not sure if I fully captured what I have in mind for him. Without saying too much, let’s just say his previous encounter with a messiah left more than a few scars. He’s acting from fear. That’s all I’ll say for now. I will obviously explain more in the following arcs, so stay put.
Either way, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!
Celestial Ascendancy
Chapter 92: Undercurrents.
Zekram Bael.
Bael territory.
An older mansion built in the farthest locations inside the Bael territory was unusually silent at this time of the day. Something that was not common in the slightest, because the Baels had an image to uphold, he, more than all.
But this was a special occasion. For he had received a letter from his descendant, the current Lord Bael, who was coming to explain the happenings of the Satan’s peace conference between the Abrahamic factions and three unwanted and unneeded factions.
And more importantly, the results of his plan.
Zekram Bael was not nervous, for he was the great king of the devil faction. He could not be nervous, since everything was beneath him ever since the Civil War ended.
He could still remember his time groveling at the feet of his progenitor, prostrated with his forehead touching the ground and wondering if Lucifer or any of the original Satans was planning to erase him from existence.
But that was an era long past; now, the Baels reigned supreme in the Underworld. He was the one who got the new Satans into the civil war.
He had tried to do it amicably from the start. He was unlike his ancestors, who valued blood above all else.
No, Zekram Bael took pride in being able to see potential instead of their blood. He had seen the four children who had the potential to rise above the rest before anyone could. It was a shame that they had been so against joining his side against those who still supported the original Satans' dream.
The fools didn’t see, nor could they comprehend, how close the devil faction was to total annihilation. They had been severely weakened after losing the original Satans after they, somehow, killed the leader of the angels.
Something that to this day, he could still not comprehend. Not in the slightest, and as much as Zekram respected the original Satans, he knew that they were far below their fated foe.
The leader of the angels was a being of unimaginable power with unknown origins, so powerful that even Lucifer himself and the other Satans were eclipsed by comparison.
So he had to be creative. A couple of murmurs here, some secret messages there, and the Old Satan Faction decided to attack a group of innocent choir children, not knowing that by following his unknown manipulations, they would sign their death warrants.
The lost lives didn’t bother him at all; it didn’t matter to him. It was something that began the turning point for the devil faction, and those children could be proud of being the ones who pushed Sirzechs Gremory into their fray.
All for the betterment of the devil faction. All he did was for that reason, for he was the Bael.
The one responsible for the Underworld after the death of the original Satans. Everything he did, every action, every conversation, every moment of his waking hour, was to take care of the fools that would bring them to ruin, the ones who didn’t know any better.
For the longest time, since the civil war, he had supported the rise of the new Satans from the shadows, believing they were the best of all bad options.
Thanks to his creators, he was never meant to lead the devil faction by himself, as he had wanted to do in his youth.
It wasn’t meant to be, for he was weak. He didn’t have the power necessary to lead the devils to new heights, and even less to allow them to survive against the other factions plaguing the world. No, he could not be compared to Serafall Sitri or Falbium Glasya-Labolas, much less the absurdity of Sirzechs Gremory and Ajuka Astaroth.
But even if he didn’t have their absurd power, there was something he knew that surpassed all of them. Wits. Grit. And the will to do whatever was needed.
That, he believed, was what authentic leadership meant.
The strength to bear the stain that history demanded, even if you were the victor.
The silence in his manse stretched. In truth, as much as he enjoyed the sight of all the servants and guards milling around his territory, he also enjoyed this bit of peace.
Something that he had not done in a long while, for nothing had deserved this amount of secrecy in decades, if not more. No one dared to spy on his state, but this meeting was something different, and he could not risk rumors of his involvement.
Not with someone like him.
Zekram leaned back on his throne, a motion so slight and deliberate it could have been mistaken for ease, yet his fingers betrayed him. They tightened once on his pristine, jeweled cup filled with wine made from the Bael apples. A marvelous invention thanks to the current heir of his family.
He was not nervous. He could not be nervous.
Such emotion had been carved out of him long ago, alongside mercy and hesitation.
Still, as he waited for the echo of footsteps that refused to arrive, he found his gaze drawn toward the fake sun that was finally going down. The invention was innovative and something that was honestly needed to cater to all the new blood forming part of his faction, but something about it offended him.
It was just so… human.
Moments later, the heavy doors opened without ceremony. The hurried steps of his descendant made the progenitor of the Bael line frown deeply.
That was not how a Bael should carry himself, and certainly not the current lord.
But he had always known the boy was a disappointment.
Zekram did not rise to greet him; the child was undeserving of such courtesy.
“Ancestor,” the younger man said stiffly, inclining his head only halfway. Zekram ignored the gesture, noting the false confidence behind it. Passing down the title had been a necessity, not a choice, but the fool had taken it as a crown.
However, the original Bael knew that deep inside, his descendant understood there had been better options, and the only reason he was given the position was that he was easy to control.
“Lord Bael,” Zekram said calmly, almost mildly, “you have taken your time. I expected you sooner… and acting like a lord, not a frightened child.”
His tone sharpened, “What could have possibly happened to make you stumble into my hall like a blubbering fool?”
“They are gone, Ancestor,” Lord Bael answered, his voice sounding strained. “All of them. The few that survived his anger are being kept under Serafall’s protection. Even Lord Shax is gone.”
Zekram did not speak. His gaze drifted from his almost-sweating descendant to the horizon, where the last light of the sun was fading behind the glass. For a moment, he heard nothing. Only the echo of a name buried beneath millennia of forgotten memories.
Messiah.
He had lived through one before. He still remembered how the first had nearly unmade the Underworld… all without raising a single weapon against it.
God had always been the enemy of the devils. They had been created to oppose Him and His host; it was their very nature. But when the leader of angels split a fragment of Himself into mortal flesh, everything changed.
The devils had watched, amused at first. None dared strike during those early years, not when entire legions of Heaven circled their precious mortal experiment. And yet, as the boy grew, something far worse than divine wrath took root.
At the time, all the devils knew that the creator of the angels was divine wrath, and they weren’t prepared for what came next.
Zekram hated that mortal third even more than the divine.
It wasn’t strength that frightened him, as he had long since learned to coexist among monsters stronger than he could ever be. Power could be measured, anticipated, or outmaneuvered.
Influence could not.
That mortal’s sheer purity had blurred the boundaries that held the factions apart.
The Devils had begun to doubt their own nature after witnessing his miracles, his forgiveness. He remembered vividly the sight of a devil healed by holy hands, begging to serve the one who should have destroyed him.
Even those who knew the truth, that the same being had once led armies that burned their kin to ash, were moved by him and his sacrifice.
All it had taken was a single human lifetime to instill hope in devils.
Hope was more dangerous than any holy weapon.
And now there was another one.
A man whose light did not reject devils. One who stood beside the Four Satans and was loved by them. One whose existence defied every law Zekram had spent centuries preserving.
“They might already suspect we were the ones who gave their location away,” he looked around worriedly.
“Silence,” Zekram said quietly, nothing but a whisper. Still, the current Lord Bael followed his order all the same, “Explain from the beginning, boy. Don’t leave a single detail.”
And so, he did. The current Lord Bael explained everything, ensuring that he stated every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem. What the devils of the Old Satan Faction did, how they managed to rope the previous lord of the Himejima clan, how they used him to enter the wards from the wizards, how they decimated almost everyone in their so-called ministry.
How they were slowed thanks to the Japanese Sacred beast wielders. How, according to their spies inside Serafall’s group, Amaterasu learned of the attack, just as they had planned.
For that was the whole point of this farce. This was why he used his own descendant, exploiting his jealousy, pettiness, and anger to persuade him to consider this plan and go through with it without Zekram's approval.
Because Zekram was innocent of any wrongdoing, he had not planned the attack himself, nor had he given his support. Regardless of what the current Satans or Gods thought, they had no proof of his involvement.
That’s what he told himself. He had not pushed for anything, for what were whispers but words on the wind.
But he needed to push him. To learn how he acted. Would he be the same as the Father of the angels? Would he be the same as the mortal part that almost changed everything? Or would he be something they had never seen before?
And now he decimated them one by one. He had killed, judged, according to the spies.
Something he didn’t expect, in truth, but preferred. But… the new messiah also stopped before he could finish them off, showing that he knew when to stop, for whatever reason.
He was not like the Father of the angels. He was not like the previous messiah. He was something else. And Zekram didn’t know what to feel.
The Father of the angels gave no inch; if you were in his sights, your death was sealed. He, once decided, gave it his all to follow through, as evident when he made the flood happen, judging all of humanity at once, uncaring of the opposition from different pantheons.
Or the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, or the ten plagues that left the Egyptian pantheon reeling.
And the one who shocked and disgusted Zekram the most… the incineration of Nadab and Abihu, for he had been present, he had been the one who observed that event the closest. He had been spared, so that he could see how cruel he was.
“Send word to your friends, boy. Retreat and keep your heads down. I don’t want to hear a single thought of attacking them outright.” Zekram took a deep breath. “The Old Satan Faction overextended, and they will be the ones who take the blame for the event.”
“They want blood, ancestor,” Lord Bael said quietly, showing a hint of steel for his fallen friends before he lowered his head once Zekram glared at him.
“They will follow my orders, boy. As will you.” The Bael progenitor said quietly.
“Are we supposed to let him be after he made our pure blood flow?” Lord Bael's face grew into an ugly sneer, “I didn’t take you for a coward, ancestor.”
Zekram Bael was far beyond feeling insulted by some fool, so he stayed silent, enjoying the way that it appeared as if all the blood had left the current Lord Bael's face.
Keeping the silence for a bit more, he almost laughed at the squirming fool, feeling amusement as well as shame that he was of his blood.
“Careful, boy,” Zekram said softly, “Remember who you are talking to.”
Zekram watched in silence as the fool cleaned himself of the sweat that had appeared, before continuing, “And I never said we would not do anything… Use your contacts, paint him as a crazed follower of the angels.”
“Ruin his reputation.”
“And if he doesn’t care for his reputation, ancestor?” Lord Bael asked curiously.
“Then we will learn whether he values mercy over dominion. It doesn’t matter what he does, I will win in the end,” was all that Zekram Bael said, sounding firm enough that the Lord Bael believed him.
He swallowed once, a movement his descendant did not notice. Zekram straightened and left for a dinner he had already planned with some of his followers. For everything that Zekram did, it was for a reason.
Elias Black.
The Hollow, Kuoh.
The ground trembled again.
Ash’s wings cut the sky in a wide circle, her feathers raining streaks of divine light of the Aetherius that exploded like miniature suns when they hit the field. The grass had long since turned to glass from the heat, and still, she didn’t stop.
She had grown so much since she appeared as a chick all those months ago.
Below her, Gulltoppr, my glorious, overgrown lion-horse, charged through a wall of power of destruction and came out almost unscathed. The tendrils around Rias cracked and flailed, glowing crimson as they re-formed faster than the beast could tear them apart.
And wasn’t that a surprise? I had played the first God of War games, and while I didn’t know the story of the one that birthed my mount, I couldn’t help but be both awed and a little terrified. When we battled for the first time two days ago after my brief but intensive fight against Serafall, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
My new mount was a divine beast in a way that Ash couldn’t hope to be before her ascension. His sheer physical might was above anything I had seen before; he could send me flying with a single swipe of his tail, no matter how hard I tried to stay put, no matter how much I planted my feet on the ground, or what magic I used. If he charged, he was unstoppable at my current level.
At least when I didn’t use Rho Aias, and the bastard could tear through five of the seven levels without trouble.
But this moment wasn’t about me, or even my two mounts. No, it was all about my girls and Rias’s peerage. They were holding their ground, if barely.
Akeno soared upward, her fallen and devil wings glinting under all the fire down below, and lightning sparkled between the two as she threw a spear of holy lighting that grazed Ash’s flank and detonated mid-air.
Kiba and Koneko flanked from below, Kiba’s whole body flickering transparent as he cut through Gulltoppr’s magic barrier, Koneko following with a punch that sent the Aetherius scattering like dust.
I couldn’t help but grin. All of them were awesome. Koneko had grown even more after meeting her sister. While she was still a bit afraid of using Senjutsu, she had begun to allow wisps of it to pass through her demonic power to enhance her blows. I couldn’t help but wonder how much she could improve when Serafall returned with her findings about Kuroka’s situation, and if that would push Koneko to greater highs.
A few meters behind them, Gasper had grown even bolder; his eyes glowed scarlet as a ripple of stopped time froze Ash mid-turn, just long enough for Iris to leap through the frozen air, swing her blade, and unleash a burst of death magic that tore the sky open in a clean black line.
Deathloop struggled to maintain its form around them, much to my amusement. Something about Iris’s magic felt acidic enough to make me wonder if she would be capable of breaking through if she gave her all.
Pure firepower was not enough, but seeing what Iris could do, I couldn’t help but shudder to think what Sirzechs would think of my barrier.
She landed, already regenerating from burns that would have killed anyone else. It was insane; she healed even faster than I did when I allowed my healing energy to flow freely across my body. I wondered if Iris could even die of old age at this point.
Thankfully, it wasn’t something we needed to worry about anymore, for most of us.
Fleur’s purple fire sang over it all. The purple cross was faint but radiant, her wings of fire stretching wider with every passing moment. Ash screamed back, a phoenix’s cry full of challenge, and the two flames clashed, both divine in essence, and both fought until the horizon itself shimmered.
Hermione stayed at the center, one hand extended, alternating between transfiguring the battlefield, pushing her new demonic power to the limits, using Aetherius light spears, Rias’s power of destruction bullets, and even some of Akeno’s lightning with the trinket I gave her.
Each physical barrier she created to bother my two summons groaned under protests but held. Wizarding magic was absurd in its capabilities when pushed, and no one but Hermione knew how to do it better. Against Gulltoppr, she decided to use some kind of elastic to slow him down. At the same time, against Ash, she went with enchanted wool or something like that, which didn’t catch fire no matter how hard Ash tried.
Asia’s light covered the field in soft green pulses, knitting wounds before they could become lethal. Her expression was serene, as if she were an angel. I couldn’t help but send my feelings through our bond, making her smile softly before she refocused.
Adorable.
From where I stood, it was a scene of chaos and beauty in perfect balance.
Daphne let out a low whistle beside me, “They could tear Hogwarts down with that.”
Latia’s voice was quieter, “I don’t think even Sairaorg and his peerage would be capable of holding their ground around these two mythological beasts.”
I chuckled amusedly, “Sai is strong, and one-on-one, he’s probably the strongest devil our age. However, as much as I like them all, his peerage is somewhat inferior to Rias's. The youth devil gathering will be super interesting, to say the least.”
Latia turned her gaze on me, the faintest hint of disbelief crossing her usual neutral expression, something that had happened a lot lately, “Rias Gremory and her peerage have… improved.”
“Improved?” I couldn’t help laughing. “They have grown by leaps and bounds. All of them have Sai, Sona, and Seek. It’s impressive, but it’s the effort they’ve put in. I’m sure Rias would love it if you attended their training sessions, and we all would be happy to help.”
“As for Iris, Mione, and Fleur,” I looked at Daphne and Tonks, “they could wipe the floor with Dumbledore at his prime. You shouldn’t compare them to the norm. Wizards have been stunted for generations, something I wish to change.”
Latia smiled a tiny smile, looking at her friend in curiosity, before nodding firmly. Daphne and Tonks were different; they didn’t have any connection to the supernatural before the attack, and for them, their worldview was turned upside down and shot in the head.
Daphne folded her arms, still watching the field. “It’s terrifying how much they’ve changed. I still remember when we used to duel at Hogwarts. It wasn’t even that long ago.”
“We had a reason to grow, Daphne. We didn’t have many options. The war… it pushed us to the limit, and there was no way we were going to let that madman win.” I said softly.
Tonks didn’t speak, but I felt her emotions ripple through her aura… envy, yes, but underneath it something brighter, pure hunger. The desire to catch up. She was close now; the potential hummed in her soul, both holy and demonic.
I nudged her shoulder. “You’ll make it,” I said quietly.
“But we’ll take it slow. We need to learn your limits first, and I don’t want to push you too hard, Nym. You’re my cousin, and I plan to have you alive for a loooong time.”
She looked up at me, her eyes looking like fire, “Thank you, Eli. I know it’s for the best but seeing them like this makes me want to join.”
I smiled. “Soon. Right now, just watch. They have been honed through battles, something that you didn’t have before. I know it stings, Nym, but you’ll get there, I promise.”
My phone buzzed in my pocket, cutting through the sound of explosions. With a frown, I took my phone out before a smile appeared on my face.
“Levi-tan,” I greeted, taking some steps away from the battle as I cast a ward to muffle the sound from the outside, “Can’t say I expected to hear from you, you have been quite busy lately. How’s the Underworld going?”
Her laughter was bright enough to echo through the line. “You have no idea how busy I’ve been, Eli, and it’s all your fault. Anyway, I’ve got good news. Ajuka will be ready in two days. He says the preparations are complete. And…” Hearing about Ajuka almost made me stop paying attention to the rest, “all your requested supplies are packed and waiting. I think I’ll go with you all to Britain, that way I can finally meet Amelia and Sirius, so I’ll take the supplies with me.”
“As for the Underworld… well, we had better days, and some people are fanning the flames now that your existence is of public knowledge. The masses are divided, but the situation is complicated. I hope that your appearance during the youth devil gathering will help your reputation,” I could hear her sighing against the phone.
“Eli?” Serafall’s tone softened. “You there?”
“I am,” I said, realizing my knuckles had gone white around the phone. “Thank you, Sera. For everything.”
“Aww,” she hummed. “Don’t make it sound like goodbye. It’s just the next step for the Wizards, you know? You’ll be fine.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “Still… thank you.”
I ended the call before my voice could betray the mix of eagerness and unease clawing up my throat. I was feeling… weird. I knew that I had asked for this, but it felt like a big step to take, and I wasn’t sure we were ready for it as much as I hoped. The Japanese wizards, despite the latest massacre, were vast. And our cultures didn’t exactly mix that well, but I owed them. Or at least, I felt that way.
As for the Underworld… well, I didn’t know what to think. On one hand, Serafall and I had an idea of who these groups were that were fanning the flames, even if we didn’t know the exact persons doing so. The Old Satan Faction were enemies, that was clear. Still, Serafall wasn’t sure why, or if, the Great King Faction participated, or at least, why some of its members formed part of the attack.
For all we knew, they could have been rogue agents. It's not like any of them survived my anger.
From what everyone said, nothing happened in that faction without their leader being aware of it. Still, Serafall didn’t know why he would do so. It wasn’t like Zekram Bael M.O. to do things this sloppily, according to most.
As for me, I wasn’t sure, and without seeing him in person, I had no way to determine if he had anything to do with it. The embers of my anger still burned hotly, but I wasn’t going to attack people who had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t like that.
With a thought, I snapped my fingers. Deathloop’s barriers dissolved instantly, the golden film peeling away from the horizon. The roaring and the explosions stopped at once.
Ash flared her wings with a confused cry; Gulltoppr stomped the earth, snorting in irritation as I felt him bombard my mind along with my phoenix.
They were having fun, and it was obviously my fault that they had to stop.
Across the field, my girls and Rias’s peerage froze mid-motion before lowering their weapons and deactivating spells.
“Hey!” Rias shouted, her armor flickering off in a second, “We weren’t done!”
Akeno landed beside her, cheeks flushed in arousal as lightning danced across her fingertips. “You stopped it just when it was getting good, Eli.”
This girl. I loved her, but she had problems. At least it was good that she was returning to her usual act after her injury.
I couldn’t even muster a proper smile. Whatever was on my face must’ve given me away, because their teasing faded in seconds.
Iris was the first to appear at my side, having apparated, “What happened, Eli? Why are you silent?”
I didn’t know what to answer. The idea sounded amazing at the start, but now that it was so close? I was hesitant. But it was too late, and I could only face what was coming. I just hoped that I wasn’t going to make things worse by pushing it.
“Ajuka’s almost ready,” I said softly, “Two days, and we’ll relocate the Japanese wizards and witches in Britain.”
Iris’s eyes opened wide before a large smile appeared on her face. Mione, on the other hand, understood why I was acting this way. She probably saw the problems that could happen already.
Iris wasn't the kind of girl to care about the details like the rest of us.
Rias was just happy, along with the rest of her peerage, who planned to visit with us.
“It’s time, girls,” I sighed, before I forced a smile on my face.
Whatever, what is done is done, and I could only do my best.
“Iris, call Moriyama. Tell him to gather every witch, every wizard, and every family in the ruins of the ministry,” I told her seriously, at which she nodded firmly, grabbed her phone, and walked away.
“Mione, you know what to do,” I said, looking at my chocolate-eyed lover.
She frowned for a second before nodding as she followed Iris’s footsteps.
She was the one in charge of communicating with Sirius and Amelia to warn them that it was time. Amelia hadn’t been happy with us dumping this mess on her shoulders, but she also thought it was the only option left. Wizards as a whole couldn’t be divided if we wished to survive.
Sirius just found it hilarious, even if he was pissed with the paperwork that was for sure coming for his arse.
And me? I took my phone and called Akeno’s cousin to ask for their payment. Suzaku had been adamant that they owed us, and right now, we need some support and security.
As understanding as the Japanese were, a gathering of over four thousand wizards in one place was something that could go sideways in a brief moment.
Comments
Aitor Rosell Torralba
Good chapter
