The Gathering Hall
As we pushed through the massive double doors, the interior of the gathering room opened up before me like something straight out of a decadent dream. It looked like a ballroom, nothing too gaudy, but with a richness that spoke of power and wealth.
The central space was clear — polished obsidian flooring gleaming under soft crimson lighting — while around it stood round tables draped in deep violet cloth, set with crystal goblets, silver cutlery, and platters of exotic foods. Every detail screamed elegance, but not ostentation. It was the kind of place where influence whispered louder than noise.
Naturally, as my eyes swept across the room, every gaze turned toward us. Of course they would. Yours truly wasn't exactly low-profile. Being known as the Crimson Heir of Destruction, the embodiment of ruin itself, tended to attract attention — and not the subtle kind.
My eyes locked first on the son of the Original Lucifer and Lilith, Rizevim Livan Lucifer. He had dark silver hair and hazel eyes, he looked like man in his early twenties and not like the guy from the Anime I remembered but the Aura around him told me he was the one. Rizevim possessed a bottomless and creepy aura around his body.
He threw me a cocky smirk as if to say, Yes, I know who you are, before turning back to chat with a tall silver-haired man I assumed was Euclid Lucifuge. Euclid is a young handsome looking man appearing in his early twenties with silver hair that is tied in a braided hairstyle. He was wearing a silver robe with detailed accessories.
The sister obsessed freak and lucifer fanatic was looking at me like I stole his candy from his mouth. I ignored him.
A few steps away stood the one everyone whispered about: Grayfia Lucifuge, the future Silver-Haired Queen of Annihilation.
Her appearance froze the air around her. Her long silver hair cascaded like liquid moonlight down her back, perfectly smooth, with not a strand out of place. Her red eyes burned like twin coals — piercing, sharp, and impossibly cold — yet held no malice, only an unyielding detachment.
Her gown, a sleek masterpiece of deep blue silk with obsidian embroidery, clung to her like armor, flowing elegantly as she stood poised, expressionless. Her face was sculpted with divine symmetry — flawless skin, high cheekbones, lips pale and still.
There wasn't an emotion, not even curiosity, on her face, as if she had mastered the art of being untouchable. She looked like a statue carved from ice and beauty, someone you admired from afar, but never dared approach.
Moving past her, my eyes caught the devils from House Asmodeus and House Beelzebub. Damaidosu Asmodeus and Bidleid Beelzebub who were preparing to assume the position of Satan Asmodeus alongside the other Satan descendants.
Both men stood with their chests puffed out and noses upturned, that same smug arrogance all Satan house nobles seemed to carry — the kind that screams, Yes, I'm the best, and you're nothing but furniture. Honestly, if arrogance were a perfume, it would be their signature scent.
The devil from House Asmodeus had sharp features, raven-black hair slicked back, and eyes that glinted like polished obsidian. His smile curled at the corners with a hint of mockery, as if he already judged everyone within five feet of him unworthy of conversation.
The devil from House Beelzebub was stockier, with pale blond hair and a rounded jaw, his expression stiff but equally superior. His eyes barely twitched when you spoke, as if indulging you would be beneath his dignity.
Nearby stood the devil from House Leviathan, Tsufaame Leviathan exuding the same icy presence as her peers, but with a subtle difference. Her piercing gaze carried a chill that made it seem like she was consciously trying to mirror someone else — someone like a certain Lucifuge.
Her hair, a dark teal that shimmered with blue streaks, framed her face softly, but her posture screamed restraint, as if she was forcing herself not to let her true nature show.
She was the one who died in the original war and Rezivim just Yawn at that and went to sleep like, this is not my problem.
I can understand why they lost the devil civil War with a leader like that.
After a brief scan, we reached our table — assigned to us with obvious ceremony. I finished looking around the room, impressed despite myself. Many devils from lesser houses came over to greet us, eyes wide, manners polished.
I decided to return the courtesy. Serafall, ever the chatterbox, took charge of the conversation, filling the air with laughter and questions. Falbium, true to form, was half asleep in his chair, his head lolling with every blink. And Ajuka — let's not even talk about him.
As I observed the gathering, my sense and the skill 'Observe' confirmed my assumptions: I was easily the strongest among those present.
Of course, after enduring eight years of rigorous training with a Satan-class instructor, I had earned that spot. Venelana, my mother, had already surpassed that level before I was even born.
Honestly, it baffled me. In the original Anime and Manga I knew, she hadn't been anywhere near this powerful. But then again, this wasn't exactly the same universe i surely know. It might be an alternate one where the timeline had shifted. Still, stressing over it wasn't worth the headache. I decided to leave that problem to my future self.
"Good luck, future me," I muttered under my breath.
I think I heard a voice — snide, sarcastic — replied in my head.
"F* you, you son of a b****!**"
I smirked.
Besides, with Mother in charge at home, Father would be wearing his green hat for the foreseeable future. I wasn't sure if I should feel sorry for him or just amused. Well he has his harem to comfort him.
But one thing was certain: I'd make sure Mother's needs were met.
"Kukukuku… stop the creepy laugh, you bastard," I muttered to myself, though I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.
And with that, the festivities truly began.