Split of the Worlds

Chapter 6.3

She was frozen, not moving a muscle. He could empathize with her, at least a little. He had also felt frozen when he heard His judgment. If she did not join his side within a few cycles after the next battle, his influence would apparently not be enough. Then it would be up to the other demonlords to try out their arts on her.

He had spent two cycles making the figures. And thinking about how he could get her to choose him. Because the consequences of her not doing so would be far-reaching. It would severely damage his reputation among the demonlords and diminish his servants' fear of him. At the same time, he had to appear as unimpressed as possible in front of Veidja and not show how much influence she could have over him. And if he exerted too much pressure, his plan would be null and void, as he had to respect her free will in this matter. One of the concepts that carried far more weight in this realm than in the human world.

So he had to make her realize how much worse it was should she not want to become his. "Before you think that, you gain nothing by refusing to make the decision." N'Arahn made a wide gesture. "In the end, everything here belongs to Him."

That was a bitter truth. It had never seemed that way to him before, but this time... Until now, he had had the impression of living a fairly free life. Since becoming a full-fledged warmonger, he had enjoyed the power that came with it. Had tried out what else he liked besides fighting. However, he had kept out of the intrigues surrounding the Black Throne as far as he could. Only in passing had he noticed demonlords who had fallen out of favor. Their decay before an aide killed them and took their place. That he himself might be vulnerable at some point had never struck him as a realistic possibility. But whatever he had built up would only last as long as the Lord of Hell allowed it. And yet he was prepared to risk a lot.

The look his angel gave him promised interesting times ahead. Well, she was in hell. Had she thought it would be easy here? That anything would get better? No, certainly not. And yet he couldn't help feeling that she resented him personally that this situation had arisen. That she had to make a choice that could only lead in two equally dire directions.

Turning back to Veidja, he said: "You have a little time to think about your options first. Later, we'll go on an excursion." With a mental command, he opened the door, behind which Darr was already waiting with Veidja's escort. The angel practically jumped to her feet. She seemed glad to get out of this room and away from N'Arahn. He had doubled her guards this time so as not to take any chances.

He could have watched her personally, but N'Arahn needed time to himself. Sure, he had been thinking a lot the last few cycles. However, there was one thought he had not allowed to occur to him until the very end, as it was outrageous. Could he face it before he took any further steps?

- - - - -

The Market, the heart of hell, was a place of wild activity, bright colors, overwhelming smells and strange sounds. Since they had stepped through the portal, Veidja's senses had been flooded with so many impressions that she felt dizzy. Without really realizing it, she had moved closer to N'Arahn, even accepting his offer to hook up to him.

Screeching, lesser demons jumped past, marked with colorful ribbons, apparently running errands. The corridor in whose side arm they had exited was wide and high. After a short time, it widened into a gigantic cavern, whose distant but still visible ceiling sparkled. The walls and floor were dominated by the blood red from which the Red Depths took their name, but were interspersed with other colors. The rock of the ceiling, on the other hand, was criss-crossed with countless glittering veins. They reflected the light from glowing plants, which at a distance resembled mosses, and intensified it, so that the vast space was bathed in a constant light.