Betrayed, I Met The Demon Lord

Chapter 122 - Interloper, Finale

Short Announcement.

My absence this time wasn't due to writer's block. It was apathy.

Everything I wrote—even when I let myself write garbage—felt dull. Predictable. Empty.

And after some time, I figured out why.

Fear.

Fear of how my real story—the one I truly want to write—would be received.

But I'm done with that. I won't be afraid of you anymore.

Though, I can't say the same for you.

Whether you stay or leave, I'm done shaping my story to fit others' expectations.

This time, I write for myself. However, I will keep your criticisms at arm's length, as I still appreciate them.

I hope you enjoy the read.

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[Now... I just want it to hurt Hellix.] The Goddess expressed coldly to the Archdevil. [Maybe it will break him. Maybe not...]

She paused for a moment before continuing.

[But will your protégé finally listen to your orders? The Wretch is drawing near the Capital, after all. Time is of the essence.]

{...}

{He is near breaking.} The Archdevil rasped, exhaling a weary sigh as his gaze darkened. {Even the mightiest break after enough... nudges.}

[Good. Make it happen.] The Goddess turned away. [I have to prepare for the childbirth... If you'll excuse me.]

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"Lord Belial." Mirias' voice was soft, but insistent.

"I'm sleeping. Leave me alone." He grumbled, waving her off without opening his eyes. The apartment above Galdo's tavern where they resided was dark and moody.

"I know you said we shouldn't return to the Demonic Realm. That you want to stay here, but—"

"But shut up. It's final." Belial spat, shifting to bury his face deeper into his pillow. "I'm not going back to that place. Everything here is just... so bright. So full of color. I'm not going back to a realm filled with puppets like you."

A pause. Then, quieter—almost swallowed by the fabric of his sheets—"Even she will become a puppet. I know she will."

Mirias hesitated. "...My lord. I hear the Archdevil's voice. Surely, you can't ignore—"

"I CAN." His growl cut through the air. "That bastard will quiet down eventually."

But the voice in his head didn't quiet. It pulsed, distorted, commanding him—

Return to the Demonic Capital.

"Why the hell is he so insistent?!" Belial clenched his teeth, rubbing his temples as if he could crush the voice out of existence.

Mirias sat beside him, her presence unwavering. "Lord Belial..."

He tensed.

"I don't know what the Archdevil thinks, or why he says what he does. But if it's about the people... won't Van Hellix be enough?"

Belial inhaled sharply.

"He has to return eventually, doesn't he? When he's done here?" She hesitated, then placed her palm lightly on his shoulder.