Scene 1
Lady Sitri POV
"Bael. To what do we owe this trip?"
I smiled from my seat as the old Devil entered our throne room with his usual calm, his advisors trailing behind him like men already regretting their decision to attend.
"Two trips within two hundred years," I continued. "I have to say, this ceasefire has brought many surprises during its month-long restart."
Bael smirked in response.
His advisors did not share his composure. A few shifted nervously beneath the weight of our household guards. Others kept stealing glances toward my husband, who remained seated beside me with one hand resting on the arm of his chair.
The throne room had been prepared cleanly. No excessive decorations. No grand celebration. Just the pale stone pillars of the Sitri estate, the banners of our house, and the faint sound of water flowing through the channels built along the edges of the hall. A proper setting for a conversation where everyone understood the smiles were only decoration.
"I came to offer praise," Bael said. "You turned a defeated hand into a full board reset. I also came to officially acknowledge that the Sitri Clan has secured the Leviathan seat."
He bowed his head.
A respectful gesture.
A dangerous one.
My husband's focus sharpened on him.
"I didn't do anything," I said. "But we'll accept your praise nonetheless."
Bael's smile deepened.
"So why bring the Gremory brat to my clan as well?"
My eyes shifted to the cloaked advisor standing just behind Bael.
The figure stiffened.
A moment later, the boy removed his cloak with an annoyed expression he failed to hide well enough.
Sirzechs Gremory.
Still young. Still talented. Still too used to being the sharpest blade in the room.
"Lord and Lady Sitri," he said, bowing his body. "It is nice to meet you again and experience the Sitri lands."
He stepped back immediately after speaking, allowing his grandfather to continue handling the conversation.
Smart enough to know his mouth was dangerous today.
Not smart enough to hide his anger.
"I would say the same," I said, "if you hadn't just been shut down by my daughter's fiancé."
His expression twisted.
Rage crossed his face fast enough that several of Bael's advisors went still.
Bael gave him one look.
Sirzechs visibly forced himself to calm.
"Fiancé, you say?" Bael asked, voice mild. "Is that why Rhea left Kronos's mountain in your territory as a dowry?"
There it was.
The moment he connected the shape of the board.
We were no longer politically isolated.
Not truly.
"You could say that," I said. "His mother and grandparents are rather fond of spoiling the son and grandson our children dragged out of his own world."
Bael's eyes narrowed slightly, though his smile never left.
Good.
He understood.
He could not strong-arm us back into his Devil drama as easily as before. Not with a Greek mountain sitting in our territory. Not with Rhea and Kronos having already made their interest known. Not with Tenebris existing as something between guest, weapon, and future problem no one could afford to treat carelessly.
Sirzechs, however, was still staring daggers at me.
I reached over and took my husband's hand before he could respond to the silent insult. He was not a man who enjoyed watching younger Devils test his household in his own throne room.
Sirzechs was talented.
But arrogance would be his downfall if he tried to challenge a man comparable to my father before understanding the difference between talent and authority.
"Then that is for the better," Bael said. "Having the Greeks on our side will aid in defusing any attempt to attack the Devil race."
His gaze sharpened.
"Did they give him methods for reaching divinity?"
My cheeks stretched before I could stop the grin.
Of course that was the question.
Not the mountain.
Not the dowry.
Not the alliance.
The method.
"He has his own methods," I said. "The Greeks have no reason to interfere with his path. Just as we do not."
I stood.
The motion was enough to shift the weight of the room.
"But I will stop you there. Rhea and Kronos will start a war over their bloodline. Whether that bloodline comes from this world or another does not matter to them."
My eyes moved from Bael to Sirzechs.
"Think very carefully before doing something stupid."
Sirzechs' jaw tightened.
I smiled at him.
"Especially you."
Then I turned and left the throne room.
My husband rose with me.
We retreated into the palace without dismissing them.
They were intelligent Devils.
They could let themselves out.
Scene 2
Tenebris POV
"Lord Ten!"
I appeared in the clearing of a wide grassland not far from the Demon Forest, the air shifting around me as the teleportation circle faded beneath my boots.
The field stretched in a long sweep of dark grass and low hills, with the thick edge of the Demon Forest looming in the distance. Black trees rose like a wall against the horizon, their branches tangled beneath the Underworld's purple light. The air smelled of damp soil, beasts, and lingering smoke from distant fires.
I had waited for Ajuka to appear.
He never did.
Weeks had been wasted outside his burned capital while his people slowly gave up hope of seeing him retake the city. One by one, they abandoned the ruins and scattered toward safer ground.
A strange choice.
Or a patient one.
"Rook," I said, glancing around. "Did you gather everyone?"
My men were not in sight. After a month of raiding Lucifer territory to draw Sirzechs back into his newly acquired land, I expected more movement near the clearing.
"Yes, Lord," Rook said. "Lord Sirzechs stopped giving pursuit two weeks ago, so the men waited one more week before returning. I already sent everyone home with their shares of the overall loot, as you ordered."
He bowed.
"Lady Sitri has also ordered you to return to her clan."
I nodded as his personal guard positioned themselves around me.
The clearing had been chosen well. It sat on the side of the Demon Forest connected to Sitri territory, giving us enough room to hide several teleportation arrays across the area. From there, the ride back to the clan grounds was short.
The Hell Horses were already prepared.
Their black bodies steamed faintly in the cool air, crimson eyes watching us with animal impatience as their hooves dug shallow marks into the soil.
We mounted and rode.
The trip back was quiet except for the sound of hooves striking hard ground and the occasional distant roar from the forest. By the time the Sitri estate came into view, the sunless sky had deepened into a darker shade of violet.
Some of my men had already changed armor.
The field gear was gone. In its place were palace guard sets marked with Sitri colors.
Honor Guards.
They had earned enough merit to cement themselves into positions attached directly to the Sitri Clan.
I gave them a nod as I passed.
A few stiffened in surprise.
They clearly had not expected me back this soon. Others looked nervous, as if joining the palace guard meant they had stepped out of the army and into a safer life.
I would not keep anyone who wanted out.
But I would remember the choice.
Future wars had a habit of revealing which men still deserved to stand near the fire.
I did not bother entering the throne room directly. Instead, I went to my guest room to wash the field off me.
Smoke clung to everything.
My cloak. My hair. My skin.
The maids had water prepared before I arrived, along with fresh clothing and food. They moved quickly, speaking little, their eyes always careful not to linger too long on the lightning still faintly crawling beneath my skin.
I cleaned myself in the shortest time possible, ate enough to stop my stomach from becoming a distraction, and allowed them to guide me through the inner halls.
The study they brought me to was one I had not seen before.
Maps lined the walls. Books filled the shelves from floor to ceiling. Several tables were covered in reports, territory markers, and enchanted tools for long-range communication. The room smelled of ink, leather, old parchment, and the faint floral perfume Lady Sitri favored.
She stood over a copy of the same map she had given me for defending Serafall's war.
"The issue now," she said without looking up, "is that everyone knows there is a new player in the game."
Her finger moved across the board.
"How you move from here will show the Devil race what kind of God has entered our fold."
I smirked.
Her words sounded like the best challenge I could have asked for.
No longer needing divinity to fight wars between me and kin felt almost refreshing.
"Rook," I said, glancing toward the door. "Did you get the information I needed?"
He bowed from the entrance, waiting until Lady Sitri waved him in.
She did so absently, her attention still on the map.
Rook entered and laid out a larger map across the table.
The four Satan territories.
Different symbols marked major cities, forts, supply roads, and damaged regions. Then he placed another sheet over part of Beelzebub territory, showing the cities and fringe regions we had acquired.
We had taken nearly all of his outer lands.
Falbium had been forced to pull back after a grueling war fought mostly by regular Devils lacking their true generals. That gave Serafall an opening to take the village that served as a staging ground for movement in and out of the region.
Her father's clan had already migrated to secure it.
Beelzebub had no reason left to save them.
"Why didn't he return to his capital?" I asked. "I burned it down. Now he has no major city bordering Leviathan territory."
Lady Sitri laughed while pointing toward the lake on the map.
"Bael pulled everyone out and reset the board. Now your next play has to be masterful."
I laughed to myself.
A couple basic ideas had caused this much effect.
That alone gave me more confidence to test my brother's methods.
"How many people can we place in these convoys?"
Lady Sitri looked at me.
Rook shook his head, already understanding the idea I had given him before.
She looked between us.
Then she began laughing too.
Scene 3
Tenebris POV
I stepped out of the study with Rook following close behind as we started toward the barracks.
The halls of the Sitri estate were quieter at this hour. Servants moved along the walls with lowered eyes, carrying trays, documents, and fresh candles. The polished floors reflected the pale blue fire burning in the lamps above, while the windows looked out over gardens washed in violet light.
"Sir," Rook said carefully, "are you sure about this?"
I glanced back.
He looked worried.
More worried than he usually allowed himself to appear.
"I mean," he continued, "it will be a big deal to the Underworld if we go through with this."
I grinned.
"Why are you so worried? It is not as if Lady Sitri places any great importance on the rest of the Devil race's opinion."
I kept walking.
Rook hurried to match my pace.
"I am not concerned about other Devils' opinions," he said. "But sir, this could damage our reputation as a new clan. Going after the image of the Four Satans will bring more issues than it is worth."
A logical deduction.
Not wrong.
Just small.
"Your dependence on maintaining the image of losers whose grand plan already failed is refreshing," I said. "Maybe I will have a couple men like that when I die."
Rook's face tightened.
I laughed to myself at the idea of the Four Satans becoming a name on the same level as God. A supposedly dead man they could not even speak about without holy energy spiking around them.
"Sir," Rook said, voice strained, "they only recently passed. Regardless of the rebellion, their importance to our history cannot be understated—"
"No. It is blown over in importance."
The maids we passed slowed.
A few went pale.
I did not lower my voice.
"Lucifer did not even create a new race. He copied the human archetype. Which, I might add, is accepted across a wide spectrum of pantheons both here and outside this world."
Rook looked like he wanted to stop walking.
I did not allow the pace to slow.
"Nuwa. Yhwach. Ra. Chaos. It is always human bodies or something close enough to them. Divine beings who begin as elements, monsters, objects, or living concepts eventually develop the same human-type body. Different styles. Different laws. Same standard."
We stepped through the outer doors.
Cool air hit us.
The palace courtyard opened ahead, where the Hell Horses were being prepared again beneath the watch of stable hands who knew better than to get too close to their teeth.
"So tell me," I said, "is the copycat important because he was strong? Yes. Because he was smart? Maybe. But important because he created something truly original?"
I smiled.
"No."
Rook's face had gone pale.
So had the maids behind us.
"We can talk about this later, sir," he said. "I need time to calm my heart down."
I grinned at him as we crossed the courtyard.
"Take all the time you need. We have soldiers to prepare."
The horses snorted smoke.
The barracks waited ahead.
And soon, the Underworld would learn that dead kings made poor gods.
Scene 4
Lady Sitri POV
"Is he sure about this?"
My husband stared down at the map, his gaze fixed on the city Tenebris had marked and burned through with lightning.
The black scar across the parchment was not accidental. He had pressed enough power into the symbol to leave the mark smoking for several minutes after making it.
"It does not matter if he is sure," I said. "We cannot read his mind."
I studied the map again.
"But the logic is sound."
My husband looked at me.
I continued before he could argue.
"Find three of our best assassins and send them in as scouts. His soldiers can handle their side, but we will still position a shadow guard around him."
Tenebris' words remained clear in my memory.
Soldiers placed across Lucifer territory.
Teleportation circles crafted during the raids.
Routes hidden beneath the enemy's assumption that raiders only cared about killing and loot.
My original map had been replaced by Tenebris' fresh copy. The old one had become something valuable beyond measure. Lucifer had barred anyone who was not a Satan or Bael from entering his territory, much like the rest of the Satans had done with their lands. Most of our information came from the war itself or from Bael.
Now Tenebris had turned battlefield movement into geography.
"Fine," my husband said. "But this must go by your father first. That is still their brother, and Ten has already burned down one capital."
His eyes stayed on me.
"Olympus is not openly our ally. Everyone can play dumb if things go wrong. Tenebris is still outside his world, and he will no doubt want to return. Do not forget that."
I met his stare.
"He has already given approval."
My husband went still.
"Father wants to see how far a God can go while playing as a Devil. He has been very clear that Ten will never truly be a Devil, so we should not block him after we have already been held back at the Family Head position for generations."
I placed one hand on the table.
"I have given him ownership of the village your clan moved to. If they want another chance at holding clan land like before, then it will come at the cost of other Devils."
His expression hardened.
I did not soften the next words.
"Devils who, I should remind you, already sided with the Satans when they commanded your clan's destruction."
Silence settled between us.
The small amount of peace we had now was not worth preserving if our clans remained stripped of pride.
My husband looked away first.
"Fine," he said. "But you will need to release the books he wrote in secret. Only a few among my clan can be called trustworthy. I will send them to make deals with human builders in exchange for gold."
That was the answer I wanted.
His clan possessed natural spatial traits, giving them access to places gods usually needed followers to reach and build. If we needed human hands, human tools, and human craft brought somewhere quietly, his people were among the best options available.
My gaze shifted to the books Tenebris had Rook record from his memories.
Designs I had never seen before filled the pages.
Walls of stone.
Large weapons of wood and tension.
Fortified cities designed not merely to resist attack, but to turn themselves outward against enemies. Stone walls with narrow openings for arrows and spells. Defensive channels for burning liquid. Structures built to make a city itself become a weapon.
Even his notes on human siege methods carried a strange brutality.
Pouring fire-water down walls.
Turning wooden ladders and siege towers into traps.
Burning both enemies and fools who tried to climb without understanding what waited above them.
"Get the best ones possible," I said. "I will accept any offer as long as it remains within reason."
I closed one of the books and placed my hand over its cover.
"The Evil Pieces are going to debut soon. If needed, we can even promise the builders rebirth as Devils."
My husband exhaled slowly.
He understood what came next.
This next series of wars would cement the authority of the clans standing behind the new Satans. Bael and the Gremorys were already moving to decide the shape of that future.
We were the only ones in true competition with them.
And if Tenebris intended to turn dead Satan names into targets, then the Sitri Clan would either rise with him—
or be crushed beneath the history we were too afraid to challenge.