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"Yes, Father."I speared a piece of meat from some local monster and brought it to my mouth.
"Inflis," my father said, turning his attention to me for the first time in days. "I hear you have begun sparring with Vyshot Ansted."
Something large must have died somewhere. Dragon-sized, at least.
"Yes, Father. The Guard Captain has graciously agreed to help me develop my combat skills."
The silver-haired demon nodded. "I trust your sessions are not interfering with his official duties."
Never mind. The dragon is fine. He was only concerned that his unwanted child wasn't distracting an important subordinate.
"Do not worry, Father. I would not dare to take up the captain's time during his hours of service."
Lucifer's Right Hand said no more, his attention returning to his meal.
Excellent. I noted the flash of sadness in my mother's eyes, likely due to the "warm" father-son relationship on display, and went back to my food. I wondered if I could find rice in this Underworld.
The local dishes were fine, but I longed for a taste of my childhood, of meals eaten in my mother's company.
And with the other, less important, members of the clan.
Fifteen minutes later, the meal was over, and I headed for the library. The chaotic systems of power here still baffled me. Take the mythologies, for example.
At first, I thought they were just different races vying for resources. And the beings who called themselves gods?
In the Black Heavens alliance, I had Gods of Slaughter and Buddhas of War who could match these local deities in raw power. But there was a catch.
Some of these gods genuinely seemed to influence the Heavenly Dao on a global scale. Hades, an Olympian god of the dead, somehow had jurisdiction over souls in the Underworld.
The Christian God had created Seven Heavens, defined good and evil, and created holy artifacts that could manifest in any human at birth.
They all operated under different rules, different systems of power that were foreign to me.
The only commonality I could see was the immutable law of the strong and the unquenchable thirst for power.
It was the same ambition, just in a different package. Which meant I could exploit it. After all, it is the evil in the hearts of living beings that makes me stronger.
"Inflis."
I let a smile touch my lips and turned to see my mother approaching from behind.
"How may I help you, sister?"
"Are you going to the library again?"
"I know too little to neglect such a treasure trove of knowledge."
"That is commendable," she said, her own enchanting smile blooming on her face, "but perhaps you would like to take a walk with your sister outside the estate?"
My heart beat faster. "Would that not be a bother for you, my dear sister? Though you are no longer the heir, you still have duties."
"I have the day off today. I wanted to spend it with my brothers, but Euclis has his lessons."
"Then I would be delighted to join your company, sister. Should I wear my formal attire, or something more practical?"
….
"Sister, I apologize for the trouble."
Grayfia smiled as she watched her brother's eyes light up at the sight of the food she'd bought him. It was no surprise he had no money of his own; noble demon children were rarely allowed outside the estate before the age of ten.
After centuries of war, protecting the young until they came into their power was simply common sense.
She pushed the thought from her mind and focused on her brother, who was adorably trying to eat a hot, flaky pastry without getting crumbs all over his clothes.
The market around them was a cacophony of demonic chatter. They were dressed as commoners, blending in with the crowd.
Grayfia had even used an illusion to change her signature silver hair. It was rare for her to have a day to herself, free from the pressures of being a daughter of one of the Six Great Houses.
She took the black-haired boy's hand. He was still intensely focused on his pastry. She led him toward a crowd that had gathered around a troupe of traveling performers. Laughter and cheers filled the air. Suddenly, a rough voice sounded from nearby.
"Hey, dollface, wanna spend some time with a mighty Underworld warrior?"
A man in leather armor, reeking of alcohol, stumbled towards them. The demoness looked at him with disgust as his eyes shamelessly roamed over her chest.
"No," she said flatly.
"C'mon, what's with the cold shoulder? I'm just being friendly."
"Hey, Gray. She said no," another demon in similar armor behind him grumbled. "You don't want more trouble with the guards, do you?"
"Don't interfere. I'm about to win her over with my charm."
Grayfia ignored him and started to walk away, pulling her brother along.
"Hey, wait up! I'm not done talkin'!"
The drunk, clearly not expecting to be ignored, reached out to grab her arm.
Grayfia's eyes narrowed, her hand tensing to knock the pest unconscious.
But before she could move, a small hand, cloaked in a dark crimson aura, intercepted the man's outstretched arm.
There was a sickening crunch of bone.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
The surrounding crowd, which had gone silent, recoiled in fear. They stared at the man, who was now howling in agony, clutching at the bleeding stump where his hand used to be.
Grayfia stared, stunned and horrified, at Inflis. He was looking at the now-sober demon with an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
"Trash like you," the boy's voice was cold as ice, "is not permitted to even touch the hem of her garment."
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