POV: Malerion
The Lust Ring slums had never been quiet. They pulsed, breathed, snarled, flirted, and howled all at once a living, throbbing organism made of neon and desperation.
And now a Goetia prince was strolling through it like he was sightseeing.
Vaethelion of House Corvus moved beside me with a bright, effortless grace, his midnight-blue cloak glimmering beneath the neon lights. His small astral feather constellation circled lazily around his shoulders, humming with a delicate, crystalline sound that echoed faintly in resonance.
Behind us at a respectable distance walked my entire inner circle.
Not as a unit.
Never grouped.
Never obvious.
They fanned out naturally, each one fitting into the environment in their own way:
Quill scribbled notes on a floating scrap-metal clipboard, adjusting his goggles every few seconds as he scanned Vael's aura like a scientist studying an anomaly.
Dreg walked on the opposite side of the street, hands in his pockets, head low, eyes predatory the quiet guardian.
Donna stayed nearest to me, her succubus senses filtering the emotional noise of the slums like a radar.
Liza moved through the edges of crowds, slipping between shadows and neon reflections as only a professional infiltrator could.
Skit and Riff were a few meters behind Quill, carrying toolbags, whispering panicked commentary under their breath.
No one unfamiliar would think they were together.
But they all orbited me and the prince like a silent defensive constellation.
Vael, of course, noticed none of it.
He was too busy marveling at everything.
"Oh! Look at that!" he exclaimed suddenly, crouching near a glowing sewer grate. "The soil composition here is reacting to the demonic fumes. Fascinating!"
A passing sinner froze mid-step, recognized the Goetia silhouette, and immediately turned around to flee.
Donna clicked her tongue.
"Your presence is making half the district reconsider their life choices."
Vael blinked innocently.
"Is that… bad?"
"It's slums, Vael," I murmured. "People don't like being watched by royalty."
"But I'm just looking around!" he said brightly.
"Yes," Donna replied dryly, "that's the problem."
As we walked deeper, the slums revealed more texture:
— alleys lined with flickering pink lanterns
— demonic flowers releasing scented smoke
— makeshift shrines to forgotten lust spirits
— sinners bargaining with hellborn merchants
— rooftops patched with old bedsheets and metal plates
— charmed graffiti that winked when you stared at it too long
Vael looked enchanted.
He stopped to greet a three-eyed cat.
He paused to examine a neon mushroom.
He politely let a group of succubi pass, bowing elegantly.
One nearly fainted.
Behind us, Riff whispered to Skit:
"Does he… not know he's terrifying?"
"I don't think he knows anything," Skit whispered back.
Donna stifled a laugh.
Vael turned suddenly, eyes half-lidded behind his porcelain mask.
"There it is again," he murmured.
I stiffened.
"That odd sensation," he continued. "The air here feels… structured. Balanced. Like music that has been carefully tuned."
Quill froze mid-step, scribbling faster.
Donna inhaled slowly.
She knew exactly what he was accidentally describing.
Vael spread his fingers and tiny wisps of violet light spiraled from his palm — his Goetia sense, tuning into ambient magic.
Magic reacted to him gently, as if bowing.
"It's not natural," he said softly. "The slums never feel calm. Chaos is normal but this place feels almost… safe."
Dreg coughed two blocks away, like he was choking on disbelief.
"It is very unusual," Donna admitted, choosing her words carefully. "Even… suspicious."
Vael nodded brightly.
"Exactly why I came!"
Of course.
A noble with too much curiosity and too little experience.
As we moved again, Liza slipped out from between two buildings to join our path, whispering updates to me without being noticed by Vael:
"No watchers. No ambushes. No unusual eyes. He's the danger here."
"Understood," I murmured.
Then Vael turned, nearly bumping into me with excitement.
"Malerion! I have a request."
Oh no.
"May I visit your headquarters?"
Donna's wings snapped open slightly as if she had been slapped by the idea.
"Our what?"
"Your base," Vael said. "The heart of your territory! I've never seen how a slums organization operates. I want to learn!"
Skit made a choking sound behind us.
Bit dropped his bag.
Quill's pen snapped.
Liza simply vanished again.
Donna exhaled through her nose.
"This is a terrible idea."
But declining a Goetia?
Even a young one?
Could be far worse.
Vael extended his hand toward me a noble gesture.
"Malerion. Will you guide me?"
Behind us, my entire inner circle watched in silent horror.
And yet…
This was not a threat.
This was not an inspection.
This was not political.
This was a lonely, curious young prince with too much magic and not enough experience who followed the whisper of my cultivation into the poorest corner of the Lust Ring.
So I took a breath.
And I nodded.
"Very well," I said. "Follow me."
Vael lit up beautifully.
My entire team collectively died inside.
I turned toward Sin Rouge.
And the prince followed.