The smirk, hidden beneath the cold curves of his helmet, faded from Kaelgor's face like frost retreating from morning light.
What had begun as an observation, an assessment of his daughter's infiltration attempt, had spiraled into something far beyond his wildest expectations.
He watched, his blazing eyes fixed on the scene unfolding beyond the shimmering barrier, as Adam, the newborn, shattered every preconceived notion he had held.
First, there was astonishment.
He had not expected Saphira to get past the barrier so easily, so swiftly, and to get so close to Adam. He had assumed, that a devil, he would have more cunning or caution. Yet, Saphira had said or done something that had made him lower his guard.
His daughter, trained in the arts of manipulation and stealth, had closed the distance with a predator's grace, her true intent hidden beneath a mask of submission.
Her seductive body sashayed into the barrier with no resistance.
The same barrier that had given him multiple heartaches and that was the cause of all of his current problems.
Adam, taking the bait, held her body against his with blatant lust, unaware of the hidden danger.
When she struck, when her hand, sheathed in crimson energy, drove towards Adam's heart with the precision of a master assassin.
Kaelgor felt a flicker of something unexpected: pride.
Her skills, her ability to deceive and destroy, were a reflection of his own teachings. Her blood was his blood. In that perfect, lethal moment, she had proven herself a worthy offspring of his lineage.
Beautiful, deadly, and smart.
But the pride was fleeting, extinguished by the devastating reality that followed.
The strike was not enough.
Kaelgor's astonishment deepened, shifting into cold calculation, into caution.
He watched as Adam not only survived but retaliated.
The newborn's body, already carrying surprising power, seemed to ignite with a fury that transcended his meager week of existence. His growth an anomaly before, but now it was plain absurd.
Kaelgor's experienced eyes cataloged every detail with growing dismay.
Two elemental affinities; the newborn wielded both flame and shadow, a rare and potent combination that spoke of a bloodline touched by profound inheritance.
A hint of realization crossed his mind and he recalled the shadow deviless that had been previously lured last time he attacked.
He quickly surmised that Adam most likely obtained this shadow lineage from her primordial yin.
Then, there was the fact that Adam was mid-tier, but at the pinnacle of his tier. Just a slight push away from reaching the high-tier.
Kaelgor was experienced and cunning, able to see beyond his devil's eyes, not relying on just the information garnered by this ancient technique.
Even before the fight had commenced, when discussing the deal with him before, he had known that Adam had very potent demonic mana and that his body was refined to an extreme degree.
The fight had only confirmed that Adam had been hovering on the cusp of the high-tier, his power denser and more refined than his rank suggested.
The way Adam moved, the way he fought. It was ingrained, a gift from hell itself, poured into a vessel that had no preconceived notions to overwrite.
His compatibility with the inheritance one of the highest he had seen.
He had even grasped mental energy at the moment of life and death. It was at that moment, that Kaelgor knew that Saphira no longer held any chance at winning.
The newborn's control over his demonic mana, his ability to lock Saphira's hand in place with nothing but focused will, was a feat that spoke of an exceptionally high talent.
It was something that devils only start to grasp at the peak-tier of the Lesser Devil realm, albeit with some luck.
It is only at the Awakened realm, once obtaining their devil wings, with the innate ability to start feeling and sensing the laws of the cosmos, that a devil's mind evolves to have a stronger mental capacity. Only with a powerful will, can one start to truly grasp and reign over the laws that fill each realm.
Basically, a devil's powerful natural mental energy, or will as some refer to, is a byproduct of advancing to the awakened realm.
Yet, this newborn who was barely advancing to the high-tier of the lesser realm had already forcibly advanced his mental strength and learned how to manifest it…
'How unfortunate,' Kaelgor thought, the words a silent echo in his mind.
He could only watch helplessly as Adam, his body now radiating the solidified aura of a high-tier lesser devil, defeated his daughter with a final, crushing blow.
The fist that struck her chest, the surge of foreign mana that invaded her body, the way she collapsed, gasping and broken; it was a brutal, efficient end to her short-lived rebellion.
The rage-lusted Adam began to move.
He grabbed Saphira's battered, limp body and began to drag her towards the elevated nexus point, towards the half-built portal and the room that overlooked it all.
The newborn's lust, already an insatiable, defining sin, was about to be vented upon his daughter's helpless body.
The violation was inevitable, but Kaelgor couldn't care less.
'But is he going to kill her?'
The question wormed its way into Kaelgor's mind, trying to understand this newborn who had circumvented his previous expectations.
The fact that he had easily predicted his behavior, as a devil of lust, made Kaelgor only slightly reassess this devil.
Adam's traits and decisions were still within his grasp, but the only difference now was that he was stronger than he had assumed.
In the end, Saphira was a high-tier lesser devil, so her death would be a waste. But her survival, would mean that she is a threat to Adam.
Adam's choice would only further Kaelgor's analysis of him.
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
"Thump!"
He could not dwell on the question.
The surrounding air grew thick with the presence of other powers.
Vorlag and Malgrim had arrived; heavy, overbearing steps announcing their presence, yet still not as loud as their aura's.
The two peak-tier devils, drawn by the intense energy fluctuations of Adam's ascension and the violent confrontation, emerged from the shadows of their respective camps.
Vorlag, his body of solid bedrock, lumbered over, his massive ram horns casting long, distorted shadows in the growing light.
Malgrim, tall and slender, with multiple arms, seemed to glide silently towards his position. His eerie green eyes fixed on the shimmering barrier with an intensity that bordered on obsession.
Their sharp, demanding gazes took turns.
They looked at the barrier, where the fading echoes of the battle still resonated. Then, their eyes swiveled to Kaelgor, questioning, suspicious, hungry for an explanation he was not yet willing to give.
Kaelgor stood his ground, his expression unreadable behind his helmet, his posture one of casual, bored observation.
His earlier emotions expertly hidden away.