A Marvelous Devil.
Chapter 2: An Unexpected Guest.
Dante Andromalius.
The Underworld.
"Congratulations on becoming a middle-class devil, Dante," Hadrian Andromalius smiled proudly at me, my father.
I smiled back, but it was a brittle thing. It was hard to feel happy when everything seemed to be against us.
Becoming a mid-class devil wasn't something to be proud of, especially when you made it at eighteen years old. The worst part was I didn't obtain the rank thanks to my strength, but for discovering my clan trait,
The situation didn't help at all.
The Andromalius family was considered extinct by the council; we had nothing to our names apart from our little house on the outskirts of the Sitri territory. Rent was steep, but living here was safe, and classism wasn't that common.
That didn't mean things were good. But it could be worse.
It could be worse.
"Thank you, father," I replied politely, enjoying the hug from my mother who clung to me like a koala.
I was tall for my age, with blonde hair and blue eyes. I was told I was handsome, but I didn't interact much with people my age to know for sure.
"Ohh! I'm so proud of you, Dante!" Mother squeezed me tight, "You are the cutest son I could ever ask for!"
As I said, handsome.
With twitching lips, I removed mother and earned a pout for the effort.
I turned to my father, a quizzical expression on my face.
Seeing that, he sighed, then shook his head. "They didn't even hear me out, Dante. I'm sorry."
The rage I felt wasn't natural. I knew that being a devil came with some baggage, but the sins I suffered from were particularly intense.
My pride, most of all. I didn't know where I got it from, since mom and dad were pretty calm, all things considered.
If only they could control their lusts better. I was surprised I didn't have a litter of brothers and sisters with how much they spent on their bedroom.
Or the kitchen.
Or the living room.
"They didn't say anything?" I looked at him, shaking my head to get rid of those disgusting thoughts, "Even after you told them I do have our clan trait? After being lost for generations?"
He looked upset for a moment, an expression I wasn't used to seeing in my usually easy-going father. He wasn't perfect, but he was a good dad.
Anger wasn't something he usually showed.
"They don't care, son," he said heavily, "I fear that they have other reasons for blocking all our paths."
"Isn't it good that an extinct family returns?" I tilted my head, confused.
"It's not that simple, son," Celestine, my mother, smiled sadly. "If our family makes a return, we will have a vote in the council, and they don't want us to mess with their power."
"Who's they?" I asked, "The Old Satan Faction?"
"Everyone," Hadrian sighed heavily, "Even some of the New Satans supporters want us away. They remember we fought under the Old Satans during the Civil War, and don't care that we switched sides at the end."
"Hadrian," Mother hissed darkly, before her expression softened and turned towards me, "You don't have to worry about this, sweety. Let father and me worry about adult problems, yes?"
She messed up my hair, smiling wildly at my upset expression.
It wasn't a pout, no matter how much she insisted.
"They said that for our family to return to the fold, we need at least one member who is a high-class devil. The bastards know your mother, and I can't reach it. But you can, son. You absolutely can." Father patted my back, hard.
"It took me eighteen years, Dad," I said dryly. "Who knows how long it will take for me to reach high class. Also, I'm not at that level of strength yet. The only reason I got the promotion was thanks to the clan trait."
"And I doubt the council will make things easy for me," I sighed, running my hand through my golden locks, earning an adorable squeak from Mother. "There's not much I can do but wait and train, even if we're long-lived, that could take decades if not centuries."
"And we will wait centuries, Little Dante," Mom smiled softly, "Our family has been in decline for centuries, but you are our chance. And I believe in you. You can make it, no matter how long it takes."
Her words of encouragement made my heart thrum, a smile growing on my face.
"Fine," I rolled my eyes, "I'll be training outside. Don't wait for me, yeah?"
"Sure thing, sweety," Mom rolled her eyes affectionately as Dad smiled widely.
I ignored the way Mom shouted about how adorable I was. I was handsome, dammit.
Later.
The Sitri territory was calm. Ordered.
There was no other way to catalogue it.
Said family was too rigid for my liking, but I couldn't deny that the order helped more than it pissed me off.
At least we didn't suffer from anyone here. Lord Sitri didn't allow that, and everyone followed his orders as if they were law.
The fact that he had a scary as fuck daughter surely helped, I was sure.
But it was to our advantage, so I wasn't complaining.
And Lady Leviathan didn't come visit that much, not since the very public tantrum the heiress threw because she was teased too hard by the scary Satan. The fact that she ran away to the human world didn't help the whispers.
It made all kinds of headlines, and I couldn't deny that I burst out laughing over it. Sona Sitri was hilarious. At least, from a distance.
I wasn't invited to any of the parties her family threw and approaching her publicly was only tempting fate. I didn't want to get embarrassed by her, which I was sure she would do if I tried to court her as my mother suggested.
And she wasn't my type. She was cute, don't get me wrong. But she didn't have what I loved the most.
A pair of massive tits.
Laughing quietly, I activated my clan trait and shook my head at my admission. I didn't know what kind of expression I was making, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I didn't want to get the pervert tag. I was a devil, but I had class.
And I was supposed to be training.
Strolling, I marveled at the way my steps didn't make a sound. At the complete lack of sound coming from my whole body and actions.
Erasure. The Andromalius family trait.
At its peak, it could hide everything. Your presence, magic, even muddle fate itself. Masters of the trait became the ghosts in reality.
I wasn't anywhere near that level. Right now, all I could do was suppress my demonic power signature completely, making me feel like I had no magic at all. It's why everyone thought I was a failure for eighteen years. My power was there, just invisible.
But in the last three months, I'd started figuring out how to extend it. Not much, but enough to muffle my footsteps, dampen sound, and make guards' eyes slide past me if I stayed still.
Nothing like true invisibility, but enough to sneak around.
This mid-class guard couldn't sense me standing three feet away. To him, I was just... empty space.
The reason why it took so long for us to discover I even had a clan trait? My family's past.
After learning about it, it made sense why we were hunted like cattle by other factions during the Great War, killing over ninety-five percent by the end of it.
The remaining survivors lost everything. The Devils in my era were better than back then; those bastards didn't hesitate to absorb everything my family had.
From records to territory. They took everything, and when the only survivors were weak and without backing, they couldn't fight back.
So, they retreated. But after years of bad luck, sickness, and other accidents, the family was considered extinct. And the worst part? Someone… Someone had erased all information about us, as if trying to make sure we didn't exist.
I had my suspicions, but what could I say? Or even do.
I was too weak, and the underworld made sure that every low-class devil had trouble rising. I didn't deny that the new satans were better than the alternative, but the underworld wasn't kind to devils.
Amusingly, it was easier for reincarnated devils to rise through the ranks.
At least they had access to the human world. Us? We weren't so lucky.
I was stuck here until I became a high-class myself, but to get stronger, I needed opportunities. These opportunities simply weren't offered to my kind.
I could simply join a peerage. Now that I had my clan trait, at least someone would be interested.
But the mere mention of it made me shudder in disgust. Me... subservient to someone else? I wanted to vomit.
My thoughts continued to spiral. Each thought growing darker. Decades, maybe even centuries. Stuck in this…
"Hey! You there!" a shout entered my ears.
I froze.
The guard was staring directly at me.
Shit. Shit. My trait had dropped. I grew too distracted, too angry, and now I stared blankly like an idiot in front of a very restricted building, looking suspicious as hell.
"What are you doing here!? Identify yourself!" he barked, pointing his sword at me.
I bolted.
That night.
The rest of my training went better. At least, it wasn't as bad as the scare earlier. I was just glad that the guard only followed me for a bit, not trying too hard.
He gave me enough time to activate my clan trait again.
And I doubted that he would say anything to his superiors. A brat getting too close there would be a dark patch on his record, and I hadn't done anything illegal.
Yet.
At least I doubted it would come and bite me in the ass.
And I was seeing progress; every day I trained, I felt my demonic power rise minutely, and the duration of my clan trait lengthened.
It was only noticeable thanks to how little I had, even when it wasn't active.
But it was something.
I returned home later than anticipated, but I was so deep in thought that I didn't want my parents to see me that way. I didn't want to worry them more than necessary.
They had enough problems.
The moment I stepped inside, Celestine nearly dropped the spoon she was stirring with.
"Oh my lord. Dante, what happened?! Why are you so filthy? Are you hurt? Come here. Sit. No, sit first."
I couldn't even move as she continued talking.
Before I could blink, she dragged me to the chair, tilting my head, inspecting my arms, brushing dust from my hair like I was five instead of an adult with some hair on his chest.
"I'm fine, Mom," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. I didn't like to act like this with her, but sometimes I felt she went too far.
I knew they had tried for decades, every single day, to have me, with mom calling me her little miracle more than once as I grew up. I couldn't stay mad with her.
She didn't notice. She never did when she was in full worried-mother mode.
Father did, though. He glanced up from the old, fading papers he was reading at the table.
His dream job, not the minimum wage he currently earns. The kind that only devils with skills or connections could get.
And he had none. His eyes flickered over me, then back to the last page.
If only I could ignore his twitching lips.
Dinner was already set. Thin stew with more water than meat, a few wilted vegetables, and one loaf of bread that had seen better centuries. It wasn't much, but it was warm. And it was ours.
I never knew anything better. And at least there was something.
Mom set the servings as she usually did, making sure everyone got something.
Then, quietly, she pushed the larger piece of bread onto my plate.
"Mom…"
"I am not hungry," she lied, smiling too quickly. "Had a late lunch."
I didn't call her out. I never did. The guilt sat heavily on my chest.
I needed to grow stronger, not for me, but for my parents. They deserved everything they could ever dream of.
I couldn't have asked for better parents.
We ate in silence, not the uncomfortable kind, but a familiar, warm kind.
When I finished, my stomach was full for the first time all day.
If only my future prospects were better.
I went to bed with a full stomach and an empty future.
And yet, I couldn't sleep.
I tossed. I turned. My sheets tangled around my legs. It had gotten worse lately.
Every night, I spent more time getting angrier than resting.
What was I supposed to do? Train for decades for a trait I could barely feel? Work dead-end labor jobs? Watch my parents age into poverty because our bloodline hadn't produced anyone worth noticing in a hundred years?
And even if I grew strong enough, the possibility of being stonewalled by the council wasn't zero. Hell… it was higher than fifty percent.
We didn't have allies, nor any important acquaintances. We were nothing.
I could hear my parents whispers all the way to my room, too soft to understand.
But then, they fell silent.
Not the natural kind. The house felt… paused.
"Dante?" Celestine's voice floated up the stairs. "Can you come down here?"
Something in the tone prickled at my spine. It didn't have the same kind of excitement it usually had.
I pushed aside my blanket and crept downstairs.
Three people stood in the living room.
My parents. And a stranger was sitting on our couch like he owned the place. Legs crossed, arms stretched along the backrest.
Red hair like fresh blood. Beard trimmed sharply. Broad chest under a leather jacket that looked too human for this territory. His eyes were yellow, but the most shocking part… they were slitted.
"What's going on?" I asked, but the words were stuck in my throat.
My parents didn't turn toward me. They were standing too still.
Their eyes were glassy. Empty.
A spark of something ugly took root in my chest.
Not fear, or even pride. No, it was something worse, something I had never felt.
Yet it was so… familiar. Wrath.
It clouded my mind, but I felt my instincts sharpen.
"Who are you?" I growled.
The stranger's smirk widened, looking amused at me, then my parents.
I lunged at him.
I didn't think, I just moved. My fist colliding with his jaw, before lifting my knee against his ribs.
My demonic power roared to life as I felt my body getting stronger.
But none of it mattered.
My fist hit his cheek and stopped like I had punched a mountain. The kick nearly broke my knee. Not even his jacket wrinkled.
I fell back to my butt, panting for breath. But my anger just increased.
He laughed. Genuinely. Like he hadn't laughed in centuries, and this was the best joke in the universe.
He snapped his fingers, and my parents collapsed onto the couch like strings had been cut.
"Mom!" I threw myself toward them, checking for breath, a pulse, something.
They were alive. Asleep. Peacefully, even having smiles on their faces. Genuine smiles, not the kind they forced to try to tell me everything was okay.
The stranger stood, casting a shadow that felt too large for his body.
"Easy, Seere," he said, stretching lazily and popping his bones.
My heart froze. That word hit something buried deep in my soul. Something inside shuddered at that name.
A name I had never heard before.
He stepped closer. Those yellow eyes that shone with power. The amused and knowing glare didn't disappear, though.
"Long time no see," he said. "It is time you start to pay me back."
His smirk was the last thing I saw.
Then nothing.