Chapter 495: Deadly Underworld Politics
Damian sat in the middle of the abandoned room with Loth beside him, the silence of the underground chamber only occasionally broken by the faint crackle of demonic energy still lingering in the air. Rin was comfortably nestled in Loth’s arms, his seven tails occasionally twitching against her body, while Abel remained draped around Damian’s neck in his usual scarf like form.
The little black dragon had barely reacted to the deaths of the Ifrits, as though watching dozens of people perish beneath abyssal flames was no more significant than watching rain fall outside a window. Damian, meanwhile, had been examining the strange beetle shaped trinket he had taken from Loyd. He held it up by its thin rope between two fingers, and the tiny beetle carved into the pendant moved its legs slowly as though it were alive.
Damian rotated the artifact between his fingers, examining the tiny creature from different angles. The craftsmanship was surprisingly intricate, with minute patterns carved across its shell that seemed to shift whenever his gaze lingered on them for too long.
"You mean this thing is actually capable of constantly feeding on their demonic force, allowing them to hide their presence perfectly and look normal?" Damian asked curiously.
Loyd immediately nodded. He was still kneeling several feet away, his posture respectful and his head slightly lowered. After watching Damian erase his entire gathering in less than a minute, he had developed an entirely different understanding of the meaning of caution.
"Yes, sire. It is an item handed to us by the Prince of Envy to effectively hide here and act as his spies. My Ifrit clan is loyal to him."
Loth slowly nodded as the explanation finally connected several pieces in her mind. It explained why so many Ifrits had managed to establish themselves in Cinderfall without attracting attention. They had not merely suppressed their cultivation through some technique. They had been using Belial’s artifact to continuously consume their demonic force and conceal their true nature.
To everyone outside, they were nothing more than ordinary civilians. Even Damian’s own senses had initially failed to recognize what was hidden beneath their disguises. It made sense because only a prince’s sealed artifact can counter another prince’s sealed artifact. That’s why Damians ring could not see through them.
"Why?" Damian asked, his curiosity genuine.
He lowered the trinket slightly and studied Loyd. Ifrits possessed one of the highest bloodlines in the Underworld. They were powerful, proud and notoriously difficult to control. In many ways, they shared the arrogance of the dragons. Yet Loyd had just admitted that his entire clan had willingly submitted itself to Belial, a Prince whose appearance and bloodline were far removed from theirs.
Loyd’s expression immediately twisted.
The fear that had dominated his face since Damian entered the room was temporarily replaced by something much more familiar. Resentment. His fingers curled against his knees as memories of years of humiliation surfaced in his mind.
"Since the dragons took over the royal court of the Crimson Palace, they have made it their duty to disgrace us Ifrits time and time again," Loyd hissed, his voice filled with barely contained rage. "The only Ifrit minister in this realm is a mere Minister of Works who isn’t even allowed to reside in the capital, but is forced to remain in the western province!"
Loth’s expression changed slightly. She had heard complaints about the dragons before, but Loyd spoke with the bitterness of someone who had carried the grievance for decades.
"To shame the former rulers of the Crimson Palace, they have taken it upon themselves to spite us, going as far as to promote lesser races over us. We have been treated like second hand citizens in the land that once belonged to us!" Loyd growled, his voice rising as his resentment overwhelmed his caution.
Damian listened without interrupting. He could understand the anger behind Loyd’s words. More importantly, he could understand how easily such anger could be manipulated. Give an oppressed group a powerful enemy, promise them restoration of their former glory and provide them with someone to blame for their suffering, and loyalty could be purchased without needing chains.
"Let me guess," Damian said, a small chuckle escaping him. "Belial promised to make your people rulers of this place again and give you guys the Wrath inheritance?"
Loyd froze.
The blood immediately drained from his face and his eyes widened in horror as he stared at Damian.
A God’s name was not something demons casually spoke aloud. The Princes were not merely rulers sitting on distant thrones. They were beings capable of reaching across enormous distances and destroying those who offended them. Even the other Gods were cautious about invoking one another’s names carelessly.
For several seconds, Loyd waited for something to happen but nothing did.
Damian merely watched him with an amused expression.
"Relax," he said. "My Realm Zero cuts this entire zone off from the rest of the world. Not even Sol or Kaizer can hear or sense us here."
Loyd’s mouth opened slightly and his expression became one of genuine disbelief.
He had already understood that Damian possessed the Abyss, but hearing that even two of the strongest Gods in the Underworld could not perceive what happened inside this domain was another matter entirely. It meant Damian could conduct conversations about the Princes themselves without fear of being overheard.
Damian casually returned his attention to the beetle trinket as though the revelation meant nothing. "So I’m guessing these tunnels lead to the western region, and that’s where Fulgur escaped to?"
Loyd slowly nodded, still struggling to recover from what he had just heard. "The security in that region is extremely high. No one can enter or leave without authorization, which is why we gathered here. But it isn’t just us. Ifrits from every region plan to gather at the Minister’s home through this underground network we have built. Once everyone arrives, we can spread throughout the western region and search for Fulgur."
Damian nodded calmly. Everything was beginning to make sense now. The hidden tunnels, the disguised Ifrits, the artifact from Belial and the sudden concentration of powerful cultivators beneath a civilian town were all pieces of the same plan. They were not merely hiding Fulgur. They were preparing to turn his survival into the foundation of a new rebellion.
There was, however, one question Damian still wanted answered.
"What do you plan to do after you find Fulgur?"
Loyd answered without hesitation. "Fulgur is a celebrity in this region, and his attempt to take the throne has only turned him into a living legend. If he calls for a rally, even more soldiers will answer his call this time. We need him to owe us a debt for saving his life. Prince Belial has agreed to personally come and aid us in the battle against Kaizer if we can muster a hundred thousand soldiers for the rebellion."
Loth’s eyes widened and Damian’s narrowed.For a moment, he said nothing.
His first thought was that Belial intended to manipulate the Ifrits into doing the dangerous work before taking the throne for himself. Yet that possibility immediately raised another problem. If Belial openly seized Cinderfall, the other Princes would never allow him to consolidate another inheritance. They would unite against him just as quickly as they would against Sol.
Damian slowly rubbed his chin.
"Maybe he plans to do the same thing as Lazarus," he muttered.
Loyd stared at him blankly.
Damian’s eyes gradually brightened as the idea became clearer. "If Belial can’t take the fruit for himself, he can simply put his own puppet on the throne. Someone who owes him everything and will obey him completely. Except this time, that puppet would come from the Ifrit clan."
Loyd’s expression became complicated, but he did not contradict him.
"I see," Damian murmured, his eyes widening with growing excitement. "That makes sense now."
For all this time, Damian had believed he was the only one surrounded by siblings plotting against him, yet the more he learned about the Underworld, the more he realized that this entire place operated on the same principle. Gods betrayed Gods. Clans betrayed clans. Allies became enemies whenever circumstances changed, and everyone was constantly searching for an advantage that would allow them to survive the next power struggle.
Even Gods were never truly safe.
Damian slowly rose to his feet and stretched his shoulders, feeling the stiffness left behind by the battles of the past few days. Loth immediately stood with him, and when Damian extended his hand toward her, she took it without hesitation and allowed him to pull her upright.
Damian then turned his attention toward Loyd.
"I’ll be ruining that plan and taking Fulgur with me," he declared calmly. "If Belial dares to dream of stealing him away, then he will have to come to Velmora and take him. And you are going to help me achieve this."
Loyd’s expression tightened with concern.
For several seconds, he remained silent, weighing the implications of what Damian had just demanded. Helping Damian meant betraying Belial. It also meant placing himself directly against Kaizer and potentially every dragon loyal to the Crimson Palace. Under normal circumstances, such a decision would have been madness.
But Damian was not normal.
The man standing before him possessed the Abyssal inheritance. He had already defeated Kaizer once despite being a newly awakened demigod, and the power he had displayed today suggested that his strength was only beginning to emerge. Whether Damian remained completely himself or eventually became consumed by the Abyss, Loyd could not see a future where this man did not become one of the dominant powers of the Underworld.
If that was the case, then perhaps submitting to him had been the best decision he could have made.
Loyd’s expression slowly changed. Fear gave way to calculation, and calculation eventually became determination. He quickly cupped his fists and bowed deeply, a bright smile stretching across his aged face.
"It will be an honor to aid you, sire!"
Damian watched him carefully.
He could sense the change inside the Ifrit’s mind. The initial reluctance had not disappeared because Loyd had suddenly developed absolute loyalty toward him. It had been replaced by greed. Loyd saw an opportunity to elevate his people, and that desire had made his decision easy.
Damian did not mind. Everyone wanted something. As long as Loyd’s desires kept him moving in the same direction as Damian’s ambitions, there was no reason to complain.
A faint, sinister smile appeared across Damian’s lips as he extended his hand toward the tunnel.
"Lead the way."