sip
Calmly sipping tea, Aikren Bael was with his two fiancées atop the central building of the "District of Libertinage."
A place that was about to become "The City of Libertinage."
But let's leave that for later.
At the moment, he was talking with his princesses.
Ravel was happily eating cookies.
By the way, there were two maids watching the scene.
Apparently, a certain Maou was worried that her sister might lose her way in the "libertinage."
For Satan's sake, she's five years old, it's not like she's Nifty.
As for Sona, she was grumbling while staring at the chessboard.
—I don't understand… I have more pieces, but I'm losing.
That was natural.
Sona's current playstyle consisted of keeping all her pieces "alive."
—You see, my dear, you can't finish a game while keeping all your pieces against someone smarter than you. You must sacrifice them to create opportunities.
Sona lowered her gaze.
—But that's cruel… and you're smarter than me, yet you keep sacrificing pieces…
Aikren merely looked at her, unfazed.
—Well, this is the tenth time we've played, so I thought I'd shorten the match in exchange for a few pieces.
Sona puffed out her cheeks when she realized she had fallen into check.
Suddenly, a face appeared on a nearby television.
—Sir!
Still uncomfortable pronouncing that word, Vox spoke through the screen.
—Hmmm… what is it, Vox? I'm busy.
Vox replied furiously:
—That fucking old man has ruined twenty plans to obtain the last district!
The "fucking old man" was none other than Lord Bael.
—He's been ignoring us! He's run out of all those bullshit excuses like "it's not ready yet" or "we'll talk about it later." You have to do something!
The signal crackled from his rage.
Aikren looked at him with annoyance, and that alone was enough for the "volume" to drop.
But Aikren himself was also irritated.
His father wasn't even trying to hide anymore that he didn't want to give him the city's final district.
At first, the excuses were somewhat reasonable.
For example, that someone who allowed something like the "District of Slaughter" couldn't be the ruler of such an important city.
The "District of Slaughter" consisted of five districts Aikren had authorized as lawless zones.
Basically, places where you could go and kill anyone if you wanted to let off some violence.
Anyone who attempted to carry out such violence outside those five districts was taken by Zestial straight to Alastor's program.
And well… he supposed that was fair.
But then came things like:
"You're not ready to rule a city."
Even though, technically, he already did.
Only one district remained unremodeled.
Even so, he still had to pay taxes to his father, since he wasn't the absolute owner.
If he were, he'd pay the Maou directly.
Honestly…
It was just a tantrum.
He was upset about the massive expansion of libertinage.
And once he realized he couldn't stop it—legally or by force—he barricaded himself in the last district as a final defense.
—It seems I'll have to do something personally…
That annoyed him.
After all, sloth is a sin too.
And right now, he truly wanted to be lazy.
Aikren turned his gaze back to his fiancées and noticed the maids had covered their ears.
Hmm… I can't let Vox's image as a "good boss" be ruined.
I suppose these maids were unlucky.
I'll let Zestial handle them.
Having them remove their hands from his fiancées' ears, he spoke calmly:
—I'm sorry, but I must take my leave. Work calls.
The princesses looked confused, but nodded.
They understood that their fiancé (Sona) and prince (Ravel) was an important man.
Before leaving, Sona informed the black-haired demon:
—We'll have a meeting between young heirs in a week. My friend Rias asked me to invite you.
Apparently, it would be held at the Gremory mansion.
A gathering of children who drink tea and pretend to be adults.
—Sure, I'll go.
He replied with his usual smile, this time a bit gentler.
—Great!
Sona was happy.
Finally, the princesses left with the corps— maids.
Good.
—Let's see what my dear "father" has to say.
Aikren wasted no time and teleported directly to the Bael mansion.
Without knocking, he slipped through the shadows and appeared before his father's desk.
Lord Bael looked at him as if he had been expecting him.
They stared at each other.
One without expression.
The other with a calm smile.
—I've heard you don't want to give me the last district —Aikren spoke frivolously.
—You're not ready yet.
The answer was expected.
After all, it was the capital of the Bael territory.
An absurd amount of money was at stake.
—Don't come at me with those excuses. I know perfectly well this is just a tantrum.
He never lost his confident tone or his smile.
—How ironic that a child like you tells me I'm throwing a tantrum —Lord Bael replied.
Aikren's patience was beginning to wear thin.
He had to stop enjoying his free time because of this.
—Here's what's going to happen —Aikren said—. You'll hand over that district, and there won't be any more problems…
Little by little, his true form began to show.
—Aikren, this is my final decision. You will not have the city.
As if flipping a switch, Aikren withdrew his power.
—Fine.
He turned around as if nothing had happened.
—Then we'll do this the hard way.
The next day…
A piece of news shook Hell.
Lord Bael,
the supreme-class demon who fought in the civil war…
Dead.
Without any apparent cause, he simply died while sitting in his chair.
Apparently, several of his allies were erased as well.
And that very same day, thunderous screams echoed through a radio program.
Crack.
Space itself was breaking.
—It is stated in the will of the venerable Lord Bael that the heir of the clan shall be Sairaorg Bael!
That was, apparently, his final line of defense.
Lord Bael's death had already slowed the complete takeover of the city.
Now, that speed slowed even further due to the struggle over the heir title.
—How annoying…
He couldn't even die quietly.
Aikren let out a soft sigh, trying to regain the composure that, for the first time, was beginning to crack.
Finally accepting it, he headed to the main mansion.
As expected, everyone was already gathered.
Including his half-brother.
Sairaorg Bael.
From a different mother, but the same father: Lord Bael.
Sairaorg had lost the position of heir for not possessing the clan's main lineage.
The Power of Destruction, capable of erasing matter itself.
When Aikren arrived at the hall, the clan heads were already waiting.
And among them…
Zekram Bael.
The first Bael.
The one who fell alongside Lucifer.
Watching everything with hawk-like eyes.
—Aikren Bael —the ancestor spoke—, your title as heir of the clan has been revoked.
Aikren looked at them, unfazed.
—You have the opportunity to challenge the current heir, Sairaorg Bael, to a duel for the title.
—Do you challenge him to a duel?
Instantly, both were transferred to a massive courtyard.
Though "courtyard" was an understatement
—it was more like an entire forest.
Sairaorg stared at him intently.
—Aikren! This time I'll defeat you!
—Let the duel begin —declared the Bael ancestor.
Sairaorg shot forward, fist raised.
Aikren lifted a finger.
He stopped the blow with absolute indifference.
A kick.
Same result.
A headbutt.
Same result.
A hold.
Same result.
Again and again.
Aikren was starting to get bored.
But then, a panting Sairaorg looked at him.
—Just as I thought… this won't be easy.
Aikren raised an eyebrow as he felt his half-brother gathering power.
—Regulus Nemea!
That surprised Aikren.
The Lion of Nemea…
A power that should not yet be in his hands.
The answer came immediately.
—Is this your doing, father?
Lord Bael knew he was going to die.
And he left everything arranged to make things as difficult as possible for Aikren.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Without noticing Aikren's darkened expression—his smile turning dangerous as reality itself began to falter—Sairaorg spun around him at incredible speed.
—ROAAAR!
With a roar, he unleashed a slash charged with all his demonic power.
Aikren raised a finger.
CLANK.
The attack was stopped effortlessly.
—You people really are annoying…
His horns began to emerge.
His eyes shone.
A terrifying shadow rose from his feet.
—It seems you take me for a fool…
The shadow, shaped like a devil, seized Sairaorg's shadow.
—GAAAH!
The pressure increased with every second.
—It seems you believe you have the advantage in this arrangement…
His true form began to reveal itself.
The surrounding demons started screaming.
—AAAAH!
—W-what is that?!
They were beginning to lose their sanity.
That is what happens when demons gaze upon a dimensional demon in its true form… even at a low level.
—You see, little fish…
—Your status quo has just ended.
His smile had never looked so demonic.
—What fun~
Moments later…
Sairaorg and the surrounding demons had foam at their mouths.
Aikren turned and looked at the only one still conscious.
Zekram Bael.
He stared at him coldly.
—Request denied… you cannot be the heir.
A small twitch appeared on Aikren's face.
TO BE CONTINUED…