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(TPD) Chapter 19: Zekram’s Proposal
🕑 Added 2024-12-09 07:19:19 +0000 UTCChapter 19: Zekram’s Proposal
(Third Person)
Zekram Bael.
A Devil who had been spawned amongst the first generation of her kind from Lilith by Lucifer himself.
The progenitor of the Power of Destruction that currently resided in both Avalon and Adaloth, and the first head of the Bael Clan and the original Great King before the title had been handed to Sylas Bael.
A living Ancestor, sat right across her descendant as he watched her leisurely enjoy a cup of tea.
They had moved to a different room from where they had originally met, Zekram insisting that they sit in a place more suited to formal conversation.
“You shouldn’t need me to tell you it isn’t poisoned,” Zekram gestured to the hot beverage that had been placed in front of Avalon.
[Young Lord, might I suggest alerting the Lord about this? I don’t mean to belittle you, but interacting with someone like this isn’t a good idea.]
‘No need.’
[Young Lord?]
‘This conversation could end up being useful, cutting her off before she’s given a chance to say her piece might just make things harder for me in the long run.’
“Is this about Wilbert?”
Zekram sighed. “Take a sip first, you’re in no condition to speak to me while in your agitated state of mind.”
He furrowed his brow, reluctantly doing as his Ancestor asked and putting his lips to the orange-colored drink.
It was a lot sweeter than he had expected, but in a pleasant manner, and the apple-scented aroma was hard to miss.
“It’s good,” he admitted.
“Of course it’s good, it was made with a special kind of apple personally grown by me,” she exhaled, appalled to hear even a hint of surprise in Avalon’s voice. “Now then, why did you bring up Wilbert?”
“I mean, he’s replacing Sylas as General isn’t he? I thought the reason you invited me would have something to do with that.”
She shook her head, evidently disappointed by his comment.
“That question is moronic in more ways than I care to count,” she sighed. “If anything, I’m in support of having Wilbert as General from now on, as a matter of fact I’d like him to stay General during both the Krovos and inevitable Valkorion Campaign.”
“Eh?” He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“You’re fortunate you’re young Avalon, otherwise you wouldn’t be entitled to this much extended patience. First of all, viewing Sylas as an individual being is already an immense blunder. Your father should’ve made it clear to you that he’s nothing but an entitled manchild.”
Her statement only left him even more speechless.
Had she really just insulted her own descendant? And the one she had handed the title of Great King to no less?
“Granted, your father isn’t anything special either. Honestly speaking, it would’ve been much better if your mother had been born a male instead, the only reason Sylas has his role is because he’s just a little less worthless than the rest of my descendants, which isn’t saying very much.”
Avalon’s jaw almost hit the floor.
Even if Zekram was just trying to take advantage of his curiosity to dominate the conversation, he couldn’t help but want to hear more.
“Listen, Sylas is hardly even capable of grooming himself without my constant input. The only redeeming quality he has is that he knows how to do as I say, that’s all. He’s a trophy Great King, a single hair of Wilbert’s is far more valuable than he’ll ever be.”
The amount of venom in Zekram’s tone was considerable, her facial expressions convincing him that she wasn’t faking.
“Hold on a second, are you telling me that Sylas has been a puppet this whole time?”
“A puppet?” She scratched her chin. “Yes, that’s a rather accurate description.”
The fear Avalon had sensed from Sylas when he was talking about the formerly anonymous Zekram was now starting to make sense.
“He’s been a puppet from the day he left his mother’s womb, too terrified of the harsh reality of the Underworld to face it alone. You’ve seen his pathetic excuse for a tactical mind first hand, that’s the real Sylas.”
Avalon scowled as a disturbing implication came to light, his fist starting to clench a little.
“So you’ve been fully aware of his incompetence, yet you allowed the lives of thousands to be entrusted to his ‘pathetic excuse for a tactical mind’, as you’ve so aptly put it?”
Zekram’s expression turned cold, her upper eyelids drooping down in an unamused fashion.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Try to take the moral high-ground, we both know the majority of the casualties caused by Sylas were my clan’s soldiers, their fates were mine to decide from the very beginning.”
His frown deepened, picking up on the fact that she was admonishing him as if he were merely an unruly child needing to be disciplined.
“If you can’t comprehend the inevitably of death after killing thousands yourself, then you’re a lost cause.”
Zekram’s expression shifted, as if she had come to a sudden realisation.
“Oh, it’s not the death of my soldiers that has you so bothered is it? This is about the Border Commander,” she plastered on a sinister smile. “How adorable, even though you’re already aware that his death was purely his own doing, you still feel obligated to take it out on me, even at your age I find such needless empathy astonishing.”
Her posture softened as she resumed indulging in her beverage.
“Since you’ve been bombarding me with questions, allow me to offer you one in return to help you get some perspective. Do you think I see my soldiers as individuals? Or a collective?”
An obviously rhetorical question.
“Lith wasn’t your soldier.”
“No, he wasn’t. Nor does it matter that he wasn’t, because I know better than to take losses personally. Your brother isn’t any different even if he insists on maintaining his loving facade, something you could learn if you brought this topic up with him some time in the future.”
“So his death is something to be disregarded? Is that the great tidbit of wisdom you wish to impart onto me?” Avalon replied sarcastically.
“I’m saying that there’s no difference between his death and that of my soldiers, there’s only a difference to those who choose to believe there is.”
He grimaced, leaning back into his chair and taking a deep breath.
It was clear that there was no merit to continuing this line of conversation, leaving him with little other choice than to relent.
Naturally, Zekram noticed what his change in demeanor signified.
“Now that we’re done discussing dead men, let’s talk about the living shall we? Namely, you.”
“Me?”
“Of course, why else would I have invited you here? The victorious Blindfold Devil who took down Armaros, alongside with the Ruin Empress who slew Penemue, and whose Bishop helped take down Sahariel.”
‘Is that what they’re calling her? Hmph, it’s not even that good of a title.’
‘Is that jealousy I hear?’ Tomoe teased.
‘Shush.’
“Avalon, what do you think of the current state of the Underworld? War aside.”
“I’m not as experienced as you and my brother, so I don’t really have much to compare it to.” He shrugged. “But if I have to give my two cents, I’d say it’s pretty alright.”
“Pretty alright? That’s hardly a world-view befitting someone aspiring to become a Satan,” she said in a disapproving fashion.
“How did you-”
“Your brother told me, you’re probably wondering why he would do such a thing so allow me to enlighten you.” She plastered on a wicked grin, her eyes gleaming with a distinct smugness. “Without my support, becoming a Satan is an impossible feat. Unless you wish to start another Civil War that is, hence why your brother came to me to ensure that I wouldn’t try to squander your ambition.”
“A Civil War?” He scoffed. “That’d end even faster than the current war.”
“Since you’ve adopted the most simple-minded approach to the notion, I can see why you’d believe that.” She sighed. “Setting the myriad of other problems that’d arise aside, do you think your brother is someone who’d even initiate such a thing to begin with?”
His confidence faltered the second she brought it up.
Zekram was right, his brother wasn’t the type to risk the safety of the Underworld for such a selfish reason.
And Ajuka? He wasn’t as empathetic as his brother, however, he was a lot more apathetic.
When it came to such a matter, he’d more likely than not remain neutral as per usual.
The only reason he had become a Satan in the first place was because his best friend had done so, if it weren’t for that he wouldn’t step foot out of his lab for at least a few millennia.
There was nothing he despised more than politicking, it was the ultimate interruptor of his research.
“Calm down, I haven’t fallen so low as to leverage a mere child. I just wanted to give you some food for thought, Avalon, do you want to lead the Underworld? Or do you want to become a Satan?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Of course there’s a difference, even between the Four Satans there are differences to how each of them manage the Underworld. Becoming a Satan alone isn’t enough to decide how the Underworld develops, it’s just part of it.”
He fell into silent thought for a moment, Zekram making no attempt to interrupt as he rhythmically tapped his fingers against the table.
“You don’t want me to become a Satan.”
“You’re finally starting to catch on, I’m relieved.”
“Explain,” he demanded, starting to assume a more hostile presence.
“Being a Satan would be a huge waste of your abilities, but it’s not as if I wish to deny you the chance to manage the Underworld like your brother. Therefore, I thought I’d offer you an alternative, a better one if the ability to decide is really what you want.”
‘I don’t think I’m going to like what I’m about to hear.’
Zekram stood up, startling him a little as he replied in kind, watching cautiously as she approached him from around the table.
“Wha-!”
Much to his bewilderment, she reached out and softly clasped his right hand in between her palms, raising it to her face.
“Won’t you create a better Underworld with me? Avalon,” her voice was like a soothing chime, the only thing missing from the picture being a wedding ring and Zekram getting on one knee.
‘How bold! I like her, a forward woman is never a bad thing.’ Tomoe approved of the gesture.
“Are you proposing to me?”
“You’re free to see it that way if you’d like,” she replied playfully. “I’m offering you the role of Great King. You’ll have the same if not more influence than your brother, and the two of you will be able to work together to improve the Underworld.”
His pupils contracted from beneath his blindfold.
She was being dead-serious!
“Making an 8 year old Great King? That’s insane, and what about Sylas?”
“I won’t make you Great King right now, I’ll tutor you for some time until you’re prepared. And what about Sylas? We both just confirmed his worthlessness, or do you think the Underworld is better off with him clinging onto the position?”
Indeed, his opinion of Sylas wasn’t exactly the best.
But after being alone in a room with Zekram, he suddenly found himself missing his blatant arrogance. It was much easier to deal with than the woman in front of him.
“I’d be abandoning my family.”
“No, you’d be abandoning your family name, that’s all. I doubt your mother and father are the type to exile you just because of that, not to mention that you’re more Bael than Gremory anyway.”
Whether she was just talking about his appearance, or something more, was hard to discern.
But if there was one thing Avalon was good at detecting, it was when words were rehearsed.
“You’ve been planning this for quite some time haven’t you?” Only a fool would believe that she’d actually offer the position of Great King on a whim.
It was clear to him, he had been in her sights for quite some time already.
“Perchance.”
“Why me? If you’ve been observing me then you’ve also been keeping watch over my sister, she’s clearly a better fit for a position like this instead of me.”
“If we’re talking in the present tense, then she’s absolutely the better fit. However, in the long-run you’re the better choice, of that I am certain. Not to mention the fact that you’re a male and your sister’s King will be a great boon optics-wise.”
‘The Bael Clan has no Super Devils, and the Gremory Clan has two, three if my brother is counted. So she’s recruiting me instead, which would in turn give her Adaloth as well. Splitting the Underworld’s Super Devils in half between the Great King Faction and Four Great Satans.’
A formidable woman indeed.
“You’re going to have to give me a considerable amount of time before I can give you an answer,” he had a lot of people he needed to consult before reaching a verdict.
“That’s fine, this is a life-changing decision for you after all.” She finally let go of his hand, Avalon still able to feel the leftover warmth from her touch. “Although, maybe it'd be better if you stayed here awhile.”
“What for?”
“You haven’t been told? The award ceremony is going to be held in my territory, you can invite your peerage as well if you’d like.”
“I’m quite alright, but thank you for the offer nonetheless.” He bowed respectfully.
“That’s a shame, I was hoping you could offer some advice to a relative of yours.”
He raised a brow.
“A relative?”
“Sylas’s son, his name is Sairaorg. He’s only a year or two older than your younger sister, and as misfortune would have it, he was born with a deficiency of sorts.”
He couldn’t help but feel like she was setting up some kind of trap.
Then again, he already felt a deep sense of pity for Sairaorg since he had been born to Sylas of all people.
“Go on.”
“His Demonic Power reserves are pitifully low, and he hasn’t inherited our Clan Trait either. I fear that his father might end up exiling him and his mother as a result of his ineptitude.”
‘As if you couldn’t just over-rule that decision.’
Zekram was masterfully playing at Avalon’s empathy, a skill she had picked up when dealing with his older brother who was of a similar mindset.
“You’re not doing a very good job of making this clan look very appealing.”
“Oh? Does something about the way we operate bother you? I guess-”
“I get it, if I want to change stuff I should accept your offer. You’ve made yourself crystal clear, you needn’t enforce the idea any further.” He groaned, pinching his nose-bridge. “Take me to him, I’ll see what I can do.”
“What a benevolent descendant you are, you’ve made your Ancestor incredibly proud,” she wiped a fake tear from her eye.
‘She has the audacity to say that after all that talk about empathy being worthless, I’m appalled.’
Any good politician needed to have a certain degree of shamelessness, something Zekram appeared to excel at.
---
(Third Person)
“Sheesh, I know I’m the one who encouraged him to get stronger, but I wasn’t expecting him to be this gung-ho about it.” An older woman with cinnamon-colored hair tied over her left shoulder sighed.
She was sitting upright on an opulent looking bed with a silk blanket covering her lap, her complexion appearing to have seen better days.
There was a profound sense of fatigue radiating off her body, as shown by the dark circles around her eyes.
Her name was Misla Bael, formerly Misla Vapula who had been married into the Bael Clan as Sylas Bael’s first wife. As well as Venelana’s sister-in-law.
She was looking out of her room’s window with a mix of pride and guilt on her face, observing the figure of her son, Sairaorg Bael running laps around the courtyard with a monsoon of sweat trickling down his skin.
“I’m sorry Sairaorg, if I had birthed you better you wouldn’t have to struggle like this.” She clenched her fists with what little strength her body still retained. “However, when I see how hard you’re determined to work to prove yourself, I can’t help but feel immensely proud.”
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Come in,” she called out to whoever was on the opposite side of the door.
The hinge creaked as a figure whom she had never met before stepped inside, a young man wearing a blindfold and some sort of strange device around their neck with wires embedded behind their ears.
But just because she had never met him before, didn’t mean she didn’t know who he was.
Like everyone else in the Bael Clan, she was made fully aware of the Blindfold Devil.
“Are you—Lord Avalon?” Even though she couldn’t raise her voice very much, the surprise in her tone was still evident.
“There’s no need for the ‘Lord’, but I am indeed Avalon.” He replied in a gentle tone of voice. “You are Lady Misla correct?”
“I am, but if you wish for me to drop the honorifics I’d like you to do the same as well.” She smiled, not detecting much of the usual insufferable pride most of the Bael Clan’s members carried with them.
“Then I’ll do just that, Misla.” He reached out to shake her hand, to which she replied in kind.
‘Pandorica.’
Of course, he was fully aware of Misla’s less-than-optimal condition upon interacting with her.
[Young Lord, according to the Lord’s data her condition is the result of early onset Sleep Disease.]
‘Shit!’
Sleep Disease was a widely known disease among the Underworld, one that both affected both nobles and commoners alike.
Once afflicted, a person would fall into an indefinite coma as their body continued to grow weaker and weaker overtime, eventually leading to their death.
Patients would need to have their lives artificially supported in a hospital, with no cure having been discovered as of present.
In short, it was a death sentence.
“Is something wrong?” Misla asked, noticing the concern coming from him.
“No, I just spaced out for a second,” he recomposed himself. “I’m sorry if this comes off a little direct, but you seem to be a little under the weather if I’m not mistaken?”
“Yes, I haven't been feeling my best as of late.” She made an attempt to mask her worry, which Avalon pretended not to notice. “But I doubt it’s anything serious, it’ll probably go away with time and rest.”
‘I’d like to meet whichever half-assed doctor gave you that diagnosis.’
This was supposed to the Great Queen of the Bael Clan, the fact that her room wasn’t swarming with medical staff earned a great deal of Avalon’s disdain.
‘Pandorica, is it possible that using Senjutsu on her before the disease advances would be of any use?’
[I cannot say that it will cure her with certainty, but I do believe it will at least slow down the advance.]
‘Something’s better than nothing.’
“I see, if you’re alright with it I could help accelerate the recovery process for you a little.”
“You have a recovery ability?” She asked with surprise.
Recovery-type magic wasn’t just rare in the Underworld, it was rare—period. Peerages were pretty much constantly on the hunt for those fortunate enough to obtain such magic, and would practically give anything to recruit them.
“I do,” he nodded.
“Then I’m in your debt, as you can imagine staying in bed all day isn’t exactly the most fruitful way to spend my time.” She breathed a weak chuckle, causing him to feel a certain pang in his chest.
“I assure you no debt is owed,” he gently grabbed her wrist, a soft white radiance encompassing Misla’s body shortly after as she felt the weaknesses that had been invading her body for some time now start to fade.
Unless you had Sun Wukong on speed-dial, there was no better Ki one could receive than Tomoe’s, leading to a massive improvement in Misla’s condition.
However, that’s all Avalon’s help was doing, improving, not curing.
If she didn’t regularly receive Tomoe’s Ki from Avalon, she was guaranteed to return to her perpetually exhausted state.
“I’m shocked, most of the medicine they’ve been giving me wasn’t even half as effective,” she observed her own condition with widened eyes.
‘Probably because they weren’t even giving you the right medicine to begin with.’
[Young Lord, if you’d like I could send the data I’ve accumulated from observing her condition to my parent system and the Lord, it’s possible they could provide a more efficient treatment plan.]
‘Then please do that.’
[Understood.]
“I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” he offered a warm smile before proceeding to look out the window.
“Is that Sairaorg?” He asked, watching the young black-haired boy with piqued interest.
“Mhm, he’s quite the lively boy isn’t he?”
“I’ll say,” he nodded in agreement. “I’ve been asked to give him some tutorship, but I just wanted to check that it was alright with you beforehand.”
“Tutorship? For Sairaorg?” She repeated as if the notion were completely alien. “Sorry, it’s just that…”
“He doesn’t have the Clan Trait, I heard. Honestly I don’t see why they’re making such a big deal out of it, it’s not even all that special if you ask me.”
Misla’s jaw nearly dropped, part of her convinced that she had misheard him.
Did he really just diminish the Power of Destruction in the Bael Clan of all places? And the statement itself didn’t make much sense, the ability was famed across the Underworld and the source of both his sister and brother’s overwhelming might.
“I only really used it every now and then before I was officially deployed, I’m pretty sure I didn’t touch it even once during the entire Mortis Campaign.”
‘Uh-huh, you totally didn’t combine it with my Fox Fire when you were fighting against Armaros.’ Tomoe added.
‘That never happened.’
‘I was literally there, you can’t gaslight me into thinking-’
‘Nope, it didn't happen.’
‘I think you’re just jealous their version of it is infinitely stronger than yours.’
‘Well I think you’re just fat, and frankly quite smelly.’
A flawless rebuttal.
“I wish he’d see it that way,” she exhaled. “I fear that not having the Clan Trait will cause him to develop somewhat of an inferiority complex.”
“Maybe, or maybe his defect will give birth to a will stronger than most.” Avalon surmised while observing Sairaorg’s running figure.
“If you don’t mind me asking, was it Lord Bael who asked you to tutor him?” The fact that she referred to her husband by title didn’t go over his head.
“No, Zekram did.”
“Her Majesty!?” Misla blurted out, almost causing her to erupt into a coughing fit. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve only seen Her Majesty once ever since I married into the Bael Clan. Was she really the one who asked you to train Sairaorg?”
“You sound shocked, why wouldn’t she want to help her descendant out?” Avalon figured it was a good chance to learn a little something.
“I don’t mean to make her sound cold or anything, but, how should I put this… I don’t think she was very fond of me when we first met.” She spoke with noticeable uncertainty. “Whatever the case, I’m grateful to both you and her for deciding to help my son.”
“The pleasure is all mine, I’ve never had a student before. So I’m just worried about whether I’ll be able to do a good job or not,” he admitted.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, and Sairaorg will be delighted to have someone to train with. I’d also be happy to assist in whatever way I can.”
“I’ll probably take you up on that offer sometime soon, it was nice getting to know you, Misla.”
“Likewise, Blindfold Devil,” she said in a playful manner.
