Makima Asmodeus' POV
"Nice to meet you here as well, Falbium. Maybe you should find yourself a proper witch. You look like a bitter loser right now."
I greeted the bald devil with a knowing smirk and extended my hand toward him in a gesture of false friendship.
My sudden, silent appearance in what should have been a secure, private waiting room had clearly caught him completely off guard.
"Asmodeus?"
Falbium's eyes widened with pure, undisguised disbelief.
His pupils dilated with genuine fear as he instinctively took a step backward.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be in hiding?"
His gaze then shot nervously toward the blonde-haired witch standing quietly and obediently behind me. Lieselotte stuck out her tongue and teased him without hesitation.
"Yo, Falbium. We meet again!"
Falbium's expression twisted in further shock.
"Is she the witch you were talking about? She doesn't even look like a witch! She's so… indecent!"
I grabbed his reluctant hand before he could pull away and gripped it tightly, my fingers locking around his with the unyielding pressure.
"That's deeply rude and inappropriate, Falbium. I'm speaking directly to you, yet you're not even looking at me or properly accepting my friendly greeting. What happened to the basic manners of a nobleman, old friend?"
"I apologize, Lady Asmodeus. I was simply… surprised by all of this. This is Great Bael's territory, and you…"Falbium stuttered, sweat beginning to bead on his bald forehead despite the cool temperature of the room.
"Zekram is a very proud man," I said calmly, finally releasing his hand. "He will not turn against a guest who has come seeking his presence in good faith. And I have come in peace, with no hostile intentions whatsoever."
I smiled at him.
A slow, dangerous smile that conveyed anything but peaceful intentions.
Peace?
Falbium felt as though he had just heard the most ridiculous word of his entire life.
Especially when it came from the mouth of the woman standing in front of him, the same woman who had burned men, women, children, and the elderly alike to ash for the sake of her own ambition and power.
The word "peace" should not exist in her vocabulary.
"…Yeah. For peace," he reluctantly acknowledged, his voice carrying absolutely zero conviction.
He clearly didn't believe a single word of it, but he was far too intelligent and far too afraid to openly challenge me on the point.
A moment later, the heavy oak door swung open and the Great King Bael himself entered the room.
Zekram Bael, the powerful head of the Great Baal Faction, the man who had outlived every rival and survived every political upheaval for millennia, took his seat behind the massive desk with a stern, unreadable expression etched into his weathered features.
"Greetings, Lord Falbium. I was informed you wished to discuss terms of an alliance." His voice was polite but businesslike.
Then his sharp eyes landed on me, and his entire demeanor shifted in an instant.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"And you, Asmodeus… I will pretend I never noticed your presence here if you turn around and leave right now. That is the only courtesy I am willing to extend to you."
I crossed my arms beneath my chest and met his intimidating glare without flinching, without even blinking. "Are you a traitor to your own kind, Zekram? You, of all people, should be proud that someone has finally inherited Lucifer's excellence, his ruthlessness, and his undeniable power and that this someone is a pure-blood devil from the original Satan lineage, no less."
"I embody everything the old ways stood for. Everything you claim to respect."
Zekram Bael furrowed his bushy white brows, his eyes narrowing to slits as he studied my face with the cold, calculating intensity of a predator sizing up potential prey. "Speak plainly. Why are you here, Asmodeus? What do you want from me? I have no patience for games."
I didn't answer his question immediately.
Instead, I issued a calm, casual command as if I were speaking to a servant rather than one of the most powerful and respected devils in existence.
"Go and bring us something to drink first, Zekram. It is incredibly rude of you to offer your guests nothing in your own house. What would your creators say about such poor hospitality?"
Zekram Bael stared at me for a long, tense moment, his expression utterly unreadable.
Then he snorted coldly, a sound that might have been anger or might have been grudging amusement and slowly rose from his seat.
"Only this once, Asmodeus. Only this once will I indulge your insolence. Do not expect such leniency in the future."
With that, he turned and strode out of the room to fetch the drinks himself, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Falbium's heart had nearly jumped out of his chest during the entire exchange.
His palms were slick with sweat.
His throat was dry.
Only when Zekram Bael was completely gone did he finally let out a long, shaky, trembling breath of pure relief that the situation hadn't exploded into a violent, catastrophic confrontation right then and there in that small room.
The fact that Zekram had actually agreed to fetch drinks, that he had tolerated being spoken to like a servant in his own house was either a very good sign or a very, very bad one.
Falbium honestly couldn't decide which.
"So, Falbium… why are you here, exactly?" I asked, breaking the tense silence that had settled between us. "I was under the impression that you were going to become the new Satan. That you would happily take both my title and my noble house for yourself. Isn't that what Sirzechs offered you?"
Falbium replied with a distinctly bitter note coloring his deep voice, his usual lazy demeanor giving way to genuine resentment. "I want to live longer, Lady Asmodeus. I no longer have anything to do with Sirzechs. I have officially joined the Great King Faction under Lord Zekram."
My grin widened slowly at his words, spreading across my face like a cat that had just spotted a particularly vulnerable mouse. "I've noticed something about you, Falbium. You're quite a good toy… and an excellent, loyal dog when properly motivated. Why don't you come over here and become my dog instead? I take much better care of my pets than Zekram ever could."
Falbium's eyes went momentarily blank, his pupils dilating as he stared directly into my golden irises.
The power that resided within me, the power of absolute control born from absolute fear stirred and reached out toward him like invisible tendrils.
Almost subconsciously, as if the words were being pulled from somewhere deep inside him against his conscious will, he answered in a hollow, distant voice: "I will…"
"Enough of this nonsense, Asmodeus!"
Zekram Bael's furious roar cut through the air as he stormed back into the room, his eyes blazing with outrage.
The brief, fragile control I had been weaving over Falbium shattered instantly.
Falbium physically jumped up from his seat, his face pale and his hands trembling, and pointed an accusing, shaking finger directly at me.
"You… You…! You tried to... in Lord Zekram's own house...!"
I looked at him with perfect, unruffled calm, my expression betraying absolutely nothing. "Sit down, Falbium. This is Lord Zekram's house, not yours. Remember your manners and where you are."
After a long moment of visible reluctance, his jaw tight and his eyes still blazing with a mixture of fury and lingering fear, Falbium looked away and slowly returned to his seat.
His hands remained clenched into fists on his lap.
Behind Zekram Bael, several maids stepped forward with quiet, practiced efficiency and placed delicate cups of freshly brewed tea before each of us.
Once the atmosphere had somewhat settled and everyone had at least nominally accepted the ritual gesture of hospitality, the sacred covenant between host and guest that even the most bitter enemies were bound to respect, Zekram Bael took his seat once more behind the massive desk and looked at us with a stern, evaluating expression that revealed nothing of his inner thoughts.
Falbium left his tea completely untouched, his eyes still darting nervously between Zekram Bael and myself.
I, on the other hand, calmly lifted my cup and took a slow, savoring sip of the hot liquid while Lieselotte Sherlock stood silently behind my chair, her expression as playful as ever.
Taking careful note of the dynamic in the room, Zekram Bael spoke in a voice that brooked no argument. "Falbium, I accept you as one of my own. You will be granted the full protection and resources of the Great King Faction."
"However, given recent… developments, you are no longer qualified to remain in this particular discussion at the same level as us. You understand what I mean. Leave us to our privacy."
Falbium nodded without the slightest hint of argument or protest. "Yes, Lord Zekram. I understand completely."
With that, he rose from his seat and left the room without hesitation, clearly relieved to be escaping whatever was about to transpire between the two of us.
The heavy door clicked shut behind him, leaving only Zekram, myself, and Sherlock in the suddenly quiet office.
Zekram then turned his full, undivided attention toward me, his sharp gaze boring into my golden eyes with the intensity of a predator who had cornered its prey or perhaps, more accurately, of an old lion who had just allowed a younger predator into his den and was still deciding whether to tolerate her presence or drive her out.
"Now that you have already accepted my hospitality, Lady Asmodeus… speak your terms. Tell me what you want. And make them worth my while, or this will be the last conversation we ever have."