POV: Athaliah
She noticed the silence first.
It was not the ordinary silence of an empty space, because the world around her was still alive with sound. She could hear the faint rustle of leaves shifting somewhere beyond her vision, the low whisper of wind threading its way through branches, and the steady, familiar rhythm of her own breathing rising and falling in her chest.
Yet beneath all of that was something else, something deeper and heavier, a silence that pressed inward, soothing and profound in a way she had never known.
For fifty years, a constant pressure had pressed against her mind, an invisible hand tightening around her thoughts, shaping them, policing them, bending them without leaving a mark.
Over time it had become so familiar that she scarcely recognized it as something imposed upon her, a weight she carried so long that it felt indistinguishable from her own existence.
And now, it is gone.
The realization struck her with a sudden clarity that made her chest tighten. The fog that had clouded her thoughts for decades lifted in an instant, as though a veil had been torn away.
Her mind no longer felt like a place others could wander through at will. Her thoughts flowed freely, unfiltered and unrestrained, answering only to her.
The compulsion to serve, to, anticipate and obey, to restrain even the smallest whim of herself, had vanished. For the first time in decades, she was alone with her own mind, and yet it felt like coming home after a long and arduous exile.
"It seems you're awake," came the voice of her younger brother, calm and measured as ever. "How are you feeling?"
She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him, meeting his crimson gaze, and shock rippled through her in a way that left her momentarily breathless. She had been certain he would kill her, convinced that her fate was sealed the moment he believed her compromised, tainted by bondage and control.
When she had looked into those red eyes before, she had felt only cold dread and a suffocating certainty of death. Now, however, she saw something else there, something subtle trace of concern that made her heart stumble.
For a fleeting moment she wondered if her mind was deceiving her, crafting a comforting illusion in the wake of trauma, yet the way he studied her, the faint easing of his posture, suggested otherwise. He looked almost relieved to see her conscious.
"I feel… different," she said at last, her voice hesitant and unsteady as she searched for the right words. "Like I have been walking half blind for so long, and now I can see in full measure. What did you do to me?"
"Nothing extravagant," he replied casually, as though what he had done were of little consequence. "I simply broke the knots that were binding your soul. Rejoice, sister. You are free."
Free.
She understood what the word meant intellectually yet, she could not comprehend it.
She staggered, almost physically, as if the weight of fifty years of invisible chains had been lifted from her shoulders all at once. Her knees nearly buckled under the strange and alien feeling of liberty. Her heart raced with a fragile exhilaration she had forgotten could exist.
Could it really be possible?
Could her prayers have truly been heard?
Could she finally be truly free?
Her mind, once a narrow and suffocating prison, now felt like an endless sky unfolding above her, vast and terrifying in its freedom. She drew in a deep breath, her chest shaking as the dizzying intensity of choice, of will, of autonomy washed over her, sensations she had not truly known in half a century.
Everything felt sharper and more vivid, the air cooler against her skin, the light richer, her own thoughts ringing with a clarity that left her unsteady. With trembling lips she whispered her own name, hesitant and almost afraid to claim it, and when the sound returned to her ears it felt undeniable, and completely hers for the first time in her life.
Her freedom felt delicate, almost fragile, as though it might shatter if she grasped it too tightly, yet it was real all the same, and the realization left her swaying between awe and a quiet, reverent terror.
She took a step forward, unsteady and unsure, tasting the air like a bird newly released from its cage, and for the first time in fifty years the world did not feel small or predetermined. It felt vast, open, and filled with possibilities that belonged to her alone.
At last, her mind seemed to truly understand, to fully comprehend what had been done for her, and the dam within her finally broke as tears streamed freely down her face. She was free. Free at last.
The words echoed again and again in her thoughts, overwhelming in their simplicity. All the suffering, all the silent torments and long years of endurance were over. She collapsed into sobs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, yet there was no sorrow in her heart, only an unfiltered, radiant joy that left her breathless.
She did not grieve for the years stolen from her, nor did she ask why no one had come sooner, or what crime she could have committed to deserve such cruelty. None of that mattered at this moment. Those questions belonged to a past she no longer carried.
What filled her instead was jubilation so intense it felt almost painful, a euphoric certainty that her thoughts, her will, and her very self belonged solely to her now.
And above all else, there was a rapturous warmth in her chest at the knowledge that someone had cared enough to free her, that someone had seen value in her existence and acted upon it.
Even if her brother had not saved her out of pure kindness, even if this freedom were some elaborate illusion born of a dying mind, she decided that it did not matter. This feeling, this overwhelming happiness and sense of being valued, was real to her.
In this moment, she was happy, wholly and undeniably so, and that truth was hers to keep.
Warm hands wrapped around her kneeling form as she cried, firm yet gentle, and she widened her eyes in disbelief at the care with which her brother held her. There was no restraint in his touch, no hesitation or distance, only warmth and an unmistakable intent to comfort, as though her pain mattered enough to be gathered close and shielded.
"It's ok now, sister," he said softly, his voice low and steady as his fingers moved through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. "It's all over now. I'm here for you, and I won't let anything like this happen to you ever again. Never!"
At those words, her tears flowed even harder, spilling freely as something deep within her chest gave way. She could not understand why she was being shown such love, such devotion.
What had she ever done to deserve it? What had her existence achieved to be valued so highly by someone like him?
The thought only made her feel smaller, more fragile, as though she were an impostor standing in the light of a grace meant for someone else.
She felt weak and painfully unworthy. Even now she was sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to him like a child, after he had gone through so much to free her, and here he was comforting her like she was something precious.
Shame twisted inside her. She wanted to compose herself, to show him that she was more than a broken woman who could only cry. She wanted him to see that saving her had not been a mistake, that she could still be useful, still be strong. Yet no matter how much she tried, the tears refused to stop.
Her newfound freedom suddenly felt fragile in her grasp, like something that might slip away if she was not careful. What if he thought her weak for crying like this? What if he decided she was useless and left her behind?
The fear was irrational, yet it bloomed fiercely in her heart, a remnant of years spent being discarded at the slightest failure. The strong hands holding her, keeping her afloat in an ocean of loneliness and despair, felt unbearably precious, and the thought of them disappearing made her tremble.
"I'm s-sorry," she cried, her voice thin and broken even to her own ears. "For being such an embarrassment. I will not embarrass you again. I will be good. I will be diligent. I will never betray my family ever again, please."
He slowly loosened his hold on her, and the sudden absence of his arms made her heart lurch, though he did not step away. She kept her gaze lowered, unable to look at him, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. She did not want him to witness how small she felt.
Gently, he placed his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face until she was forced to meet his gaze. She found herself staring into his crimson eyes, beautiful and deep, their intensity softened by warmth and sincerity that left her breathless.
"My foolish dear elder sister," he said, smiling with a warmth that reminded her of summer sunlight after a long, bitter winter. "Don't ever believe you are an embarrassment to me. You are my sister, and I'm going to be there for you no matter what. That's what brothers are for."
It astonished her how easily he could say something like that, how naturally those words flowed from him, and to Athaliah, who had been starved of genuine affection for decades, they struck with overwhelming force. The loneliness she had endured, the sorrow that had shaped her life, suddenly felt small in the face of such simple sincerity.
She understood then how sorrow prepares the soul for joy, how it sweeps everything away so that something new can take root. It shakes the dead leaves from the branches of the heart so that fresh ones may grow, tears up rotten roots so that stronger ones hidden beneath can finally breathe. Whatever sorrow had been torn from her heart, something far greater had taken its place.
She had drunk deeply of joy, and she would taste no other wine that night, and it was glorious.
Meruem held her for a long while, unmoving and patient, until her sobs softened and her tears slowed to a quiet, exhausted rhythm. Only then did he speak again.
"Are you ok now?" he asked softly.
She nodded faintly and looked at him once more, and it seemed to her that he had grown even more beautiful than before, though she knew it was her heart that had changed. She could not understand how someone like him could care so deeply for someone as imperfect as her, and yet, for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that perhaps she did not need to understand it at all.
"Good," he said, his voice calm and steady as he slowly rose to his feet, extending a hand to help her stand as well, his grip gentle and reassuring.
Once she was upright, he turned his attention to the two observers nearby, both of whom were watching the siblings with soft, almost indulgent smiles, reluctant to intrude on something so intimate.
"It's about time you return to the others. They might get suspicious otherwise," Kuroka said, her tone unusually restrained, and Athaliah could sense a hint of hesitation in her, as if even someone as infamous as her felt reluctant to interrupt such a moment.
Instinctively, Athaliah remained wary, her body remembering long years of caution around dangerous individuals, and the reputation of the criminal before her was not something easily dismissed.
Meruem nodded in acknowledgement, his expression thoughtful. "Yes, that would be for the best. These forest gods seem to possess a certain level of future sight, at least within the boundaries of this forest. That would explain how they have managed to evade detection by the expedition teams for so long."
"That's annoying, nya," Kuroka replied with a slight pout. "They can just change their hideouts every time we get close."
"Yes," Meruem replied calmly. "We need to find them before we can fight them. And we need to approach them on their blind side before they get skittish and run."
He then lowered himself into a squat and brushed aside the forest floor, gathering several fallen leaves into his palm. Straightening slightly, he looked at both girls.
"I need you both to put your blood on these leaves," he said evenly. "By casting your blood into the wind, they will see you everywhere in the forest simultaneously, unable to distinguish which is the real you. They might have a certain level of omniscience within the forest, but that is something that can be exploited."
Rising to his feet, he released the leaves, and Athaliah watched in awe as they were caught by an unseen current, scattering in all directions and vanishing into the depths of the forest. She could not help but marvel at how effortlessly he performed such a complex obstruction spell, weaving deception into the very breath of the forest itself.
She had always known her brother was a prodigy, yet witnessing him do something like this with such simplicity made her realize the gulf between him and her. This level of mastery was something usually earned only after decades of relentless training.
"You two already know what to do," he said, turning his attention back to them.
The infamous criminal Kuroka and her blond haired companion, who struck Athaliah as strangely familiar in a way she could not articulate, as though their souls recognized each other beyond memory or reason, both bowed their heads respectfully toward Meruem before fading into the mist without another word.
"Who is she?" Athaliah asked quietly, making no effort to specify which of the two she meant.
"My bishop," Meruem replied without hesitation. "Her name is Valerie."
She chose not to ask anything further, attributing the strange sensation she had felt when looking at the girl to her mind still adjusting to the sudden and overwhelming freedom she had been granted.
"How long was I unconscious?" she asked after a moment, her voice steadier now.
"A couple of minutes," he answered calmly, his expression thoughtful. "To think that House Sallos's ability to enslave demonic beasts would mutate into something like that."
The hereditary devil trait of House Sallos was the power to tame demonic beasts of any kind and turn them into servants, though tame was merely a polite term, as in truth it was the brutal ability to enslave such beings through sheer force of will.
Amras, however, had not inherited this ability in the conventional sense, and he could not dominate demonic beasts like the rest of his house, which led House Sallos to conclude that he lacked their devil trait entirely and thus branded him a disgrace.
They were wrong. He had inherited their power to enslave, yet his ability did not apply to beasts, but to devils themselves, allowing him to bind them and turn them into his servants. He discovered this truth later in life, after growing up steeped in resentment and bitterness, and he kept it hidden from all but the few he had already subjugated.
From that moment on, he became determined to rise to greatness and force his house to regret every moment of scorn and mistreatment they had ever inflicted upon him.
"He will figure out that I am no longer under his control," she said with sudden panic, the realization striking her all at once as fear tightened in her chest.
"He won't," he replied with a knowing smile that carried an unsettling confidence. "In any case, you will act as if nothing has changed when we return, like you are still under his control."
She wanted to ask how he could be so certain and so calm in the face of such danger, yet her thoughts immediately turned to the legends surrounding the King's Eye.
It was said that one who mastered the King's Eye to its highest degree could cast illusions with nothing more than a glance, bending perception itself without a word or gesture, though such a feat required immense discipline and countless years of training.
The idea that Meruem might already have reached that level felt absurd, and yet the possibility alone sent a chill down her spine, filling her with awe and a faint, instinctive fear at the depth of his talent.
"How did you find out I was under his control?" she asked, genuine curiosity seeping into her voice, as Amras had always been subtle in his methods, never acting openly or in a way that would easily arouse suspicion.
"Kuroka sensed something uncanny in your life force," he said casually, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. "I decided to investigate, and I inferred most of what he did to you from a single, careful look."
That explanation made sense, as yokai were deeply attuned to the rhythms of nature, and nekomata even more so. "Should we not ambush Amras directly now?" she asked carefully. "With the two of us, along with the others, he would not be able to defend himself properly."
Though she had not yet reached high class status, she was close enough to be considered quasi high class, and she had no doubt that Meruem had already crossed that threshold. At the very least, she could support him and ensure his victory, and his queen, from what she had seen, appeared exceptionally talented in magic as well.
"That's the spirit," he said with a light chuckle. "But I'm afraid that would conflict with my agenda."
"Agenda?" she asked, confusion flickering across her face.
"Amras is part of the cult," he said casually, surprising her.
She had arrogantly assumed that Amras had merely taken advantage of circumstances as they unfolded, acting opportunistically rather than deliberately. Realizing now that she had been wrong once again filled her with a cold dread, for if he was part of the cult, then it was likely that everything had been planned from the very beginning.
"How did you find that out?" she asked quietly.
"He bears the same mark as the other cult members on his forehead," Meruem replied calmly.
Athaliah felt another surge of shock at that revelation, unable to recall Amras ever having a tattoo anywhere on his body, let alone on his forehead, unless something far more insidious was at play.
"It's excellently concealed," Meruem continued evenly. "But nothing can hide from my gaze."
"Then what are we going to do?" she asked, unease settling deep within her, while Meruem remained utterly untroubled.
"Nothing, of course," he said with ease. "At least for now. He is leading us somewhere, and I intend to find out where."
She could not help but curse inwardly at her brother's easygoing nature. "Brother, that is dangerous. I have to tell you—"
"That he plans on enslaving me?" he interrupted, much to her surprise. "Why do you look so shocked? Surely you didn't think I would be unable to see through his schemes. The reason I came here at all was because I received an interesting message, information regarding the whereabouts of a satan inheritance. It doesn't take a genius to realize that someone was trying to lure me in, even if the information itself was legitimate. I simply had to connect the dots after that."
She stared at him, stunned, realizing just how much she had underestimated him, having believed him too arrogant to notice that he was being manipulated.
"I see. I take it you have a plan then?" she asked, a grin slowly forming despite herself.
"Of course," he replied, sounding almost offended that she would even question it. "We're going to kill some wannabe gods!"
…
They walked in silence for a time as they made their way back toward the others who had been waiting, the forest closing around them with its whispering leaves and shifting shadows. Athaliah's gaze immediately drifted to Rossweisse, who was still speaking animatedly with Adira, their conversation flowing with the ease of old friends reunited after a long separation.
She then looked toward Amras, who noticed her at once and offered her a suggestive smile that made her blood boil, forcing her to rein in the instinctive urge to tear his face apart where he stood.
Meruem had a plan for him, though she did not yet know its details, and she refused to ruin that plan simply because she could not wait a little longer to claim her revenge.
"That took you long enough," Amras whispered when she drew close, his voice low and intimate.
"I'm sorry about that," she replied calmly, reminding herself that she was not permitted to call him master in public. "My brother was being demanding, as always."
"What did he want?" he asked, lowering his voice further so that only she could hear, aided by the small privacy ward he cast around them.
Amras was paranoid by nature and distrusted everyone on principle, and she knew that if he sensed even the faintest hint of suspicion, he would flee without hesitation like the coward he is.
"He wanted me to pleasure him," she said evenly, choosing the one answer that would raise no alarms. It helped that Meruem already had a reputation for being a thrill seeker and indulging his impulses without restraint.
Amras's eyes widened first in surprise and then hardened with anger. "And did you accept, you little slut?" he asked, his tone deceptively polite.
"I had no choice, master," she replied, fear flickering convincingly in her eyes to sell the act.
"Tsk, what did I expect from a worthless thing like you?" he said, his lips still curved in a pleasant smile. "Still, your brother grows arrogant. First humiliating me, and now daring to touch what is mine. He will regret this!"
Despite Meruem's confidence that nothing would happen, a knot of unease formed in her chest, for Amras was a dangerous man, and if he felt threatened or cornered, there was no telling how far he might go.
"We should get going," Meruem called out, having finished speaking with his queen.
The group agreed, and just as before the interruption, Athaliah took the lead, riding atop her familiar. They moved on in silence, each of them vigilant as they ventured deeper and deeper into the wilderness, the forest growing denser and more oppressive with every passing moment.
After some time, her familiar came to an abrupt halt before what appeared to be a massive mountain, towering high into the sky. The mountain was so thickly shrouded in fog that visibility vanished just a few meters above the ground, though Athaliah knew from experience that it rose far higher than what the eye could see.
"Their scent trail leads to the top of the mountain," she said, her familiar hissing softly as it lifted its gaze upward. "This mountain is said to change its nature as people climb it. It becomes steeper and more treacherous, making it difficult to ride. The land itself resists those who approach."
"We can fly to the top," Rossweisse suggested. "I can teleport the horses and your familiar outside the forest for safety."
Athaliah found herself increasingly impressed by her brother's queen, as suggesting the teleportation of so many mounts so casually spoke of considerable skill and confidence. It made sense that Rossweisse would propose such a solution, as she would not be familiar with the mountain's infamous nature.
"That's not a bad idea per se," Adira said calmly. "However, the fog covering the mountain is, by design, meant to prevent people from reaching the summit easily by flight. It would lead us in circles for days if we tried. Still, I will accept your offer to send the mounts away."
"So we have to climb it the normal way?" Rossweisse asked, her tone composed despite the implication.
"Yes," Adira answered simply.
Rossweisse simply nodded and began to draw a complex runic formation in the air, glowing symbols forming one after another as she prepared her teleportation spell. The group waited for a couple of minutes as she worked, the forest wind tugging at cloaks and hair while the runes slowly stabilized.
When she finally finished, she extended her hand and activated the spell, and in a flash of light the horses vanished along with Athaliah's familiar, sent safely away from the dangers ahead.
They began to climb the mountain at a measured pace, the slope growing increasingly steeper the higher they ascended. Loose stones and indicated rocks began to fall from above, forcing them to divide their focus between climbing and dodging the debris as it rattled past them and disappeared into the fog below.
As they climbed, Athaliah started to hear voices, whispering from every direction at once, slithering into her mind with familiarity.
"Come join us, Princess," the voices murmured. "You will be right at home."
"You know you don't deserve to be free," they hissed.
"Your brother will abandon you just like everyone else once he sees how useless you are."
"Come! Come! Come!" the voices shouted insistently, and a tremor of doubt ran through her as she wondered if Meruem would abandon her as well in the end.
"Snap out of it, Athaliah," Meruem's voice cut through the whispers, and the voices fell silent at once, like they had never existed.
"What's happening?" she heard Rossweisse ask, confusion evident in her tone.
"The fog around us is hallucination inducing," Meruem answered with ease. "You should circulate your demonic energy or stop breathing it in if you want to snap out of it."
"And what's with the sinister laughter?" Rossweisse asked again, sounding more irritated than frightened.
"It's the laughing bats," Adira replied calmly. "They have their nests around the mountain. They are larger than a person in size, and they use their laughter to intimidate their prey."
Rossweisse cursed beneath her breath. They continued climbing through the dense fog, visibility limited to only a short distance ahead, making it impossible for Athaliah to judge how long it would take to reach the summit.
She reckoned that they were at least past the halfway point, given how the mountain had become almost sheer and dangerously slippery, forcing them to stab their swords or daggers into the rock and use them as anchors to pull themselves upward.
Meruem, however, walked along the vertical surface as if it were level ground, his posture relaxed, using only his feet to move forward without relying on his hands at all.
Athaliah could not help but wonder how he was accomplishing it, suspecting that he was manipulating the nature of his demonic energy to cling effortlessly to the stone.
"This's so unfair," she heard Rossweisse mutter. "How are you doing that?"
"Just increase the coefficient of friction in your feet using demonic energy," Meruem replied, his tone mildly condescending and almost teasing. "It should help you cling to the surface easily. Come on, try it."
Rossweisse glanced downward, where the fog below looked like an endless sea, a bottomless void with no visible end.
"No thanks," Rossweisse said with a small whimper.
"Then stop complaining," Meruem replied with a shrug, continuing at a leisurely pace while the others struggled.
They climbed on until Rossweisse suddenly let out a scream.
"There is blood coming out of the rock, guys," Rossweisse said, her voice filled with worry.
"Yes, the mountain sometimes bleeds," Adira replied casually.
"What do you mean the mountain bleeds?" Rossweisse shouted, her disbelief turning to alarm. "Is it a living thing?"
"No one knows why," Meruem said in a grave tone. "There is a myth among the locals that says if you start to see blood on the mountain, it means that death is after you."
"You are kidding, right?" Rossweisse asked, her voice noticeably unsettled.
"Prince Meruem is just teasing you, Lady Rossweisse," Adira said with a chuckle. "You probably stabbed some animals that nested within the rock."
Rossweisse sighed in relief. "This place is like hell," she muttered after a moment. "Well then again, we are in hell."
"You don't say?" Meruem replied, feigning shock. "Your IQ must be in the three digit range to deduce that information."
"Spare me your sarcasm," Rossweisse said with clear annoyance. "This place is very creepy."
"Don't worry," Meruem said calmly. "We're almost there."
They climbed for a few more minutes before finally reaching the summit. As they looked around, they saw a massive hole at the top of the mountain, several kilometers wide and just as deep. Within it was a smaller hole, and within that another still smaller, continuing endlessly in a ring-like pattern that descended infinitely, disappearing into unfathomable darkness.
"So where do we go now?" Adira asked, her gaze shifting uneasily as she looked at Meruem.
"I say we probably need to go completely to the bottom," Amras spoke with a careless shrug.
"I agree," Athaliah said calmly, though her instincts remained sharp. "It seems obvious that they would hide deep inside the mountain."
"Well then, what are we waiting for?" Meruem said lightly, and with that he unfurled his wings, the membranes catching the dim light as he launched himself forward and descended into the ring like holes that spiraled downward into the depths of the mountain. The others did not hesitate and followed him immediately, wings beating as they plunged after him.
They flew past layer after layer of descending rings, moving deeper and deeper until the stone walls vanished entirely and their feet finally touched solid ground. The space was swallowed by darkness and an unnatural silence so profound that Athaliah could hear her own heartbeat echoing in her ears along with the measured breathing of her companions.
"Isn't this place way too big to be inside the mountain?" Adira asked nervously, her voice sounding small in the vast emptiness.
Athaliah found herself agreeing instinctively. The mountain above was enormous, yet this place felt limitless, stretching outward in all directions beneath a dark sky devoid of stars. There was no source of light except for a massive white orb floating at the center of the space, suspended like an egg in the void.
It was composed of countless glowing white knots intertwined together, resembling stitched wounds layered endlessly upon one another, pulsating faintly with a disturbing rhythm.
"That's because we are in a sub dimension," Meruem answered calmly, as if he were explaining something mundane.
"What the hell is that?" Athaliah asked, pointing toward the floating orb.
"The parasites, or more precisely their cocoon," Meruem replied evenly, then turned his attention to her and gestured toward her sword. "May I borrow your sword for a bit?" he asked.
She nodded quickly and handed it to him without hesitation.
"Now let's see how good their defense is," he said, and without further ceremony he hurled the sword forward as if it were a spear.
In an instant, an overwhelming pressure erupted from all directions, crushing down upon them with such intensity that everyone except Meruem was forced to their knees, as though gravity itself had increased a hundredfold. Adira collapsed fully to the ground, gasping as the weight pressed her down.
What in the world are those things? Athaliah thought in horror. They were far beyond high class devils. She could feel their presence everywhere, vast and endless, saturating every inch of the sub dimension. Her own demonic energy felt insignificant, like a solitary spark lost in an endless sea of darkness.
With immense effort, she lifted her gaze and saw her sword suspended mid motion between Meruem and the cocoon, frozen in the air. Upon closer inspection, she realized it had not been stopped entirely. It was still advancing, though at a painfully slow pace.
They were trying to halt the sword while Meruem pushed it forward, a direct clash of telekinesis and raw willpower. Athaliah could not help but feel awe at her brother's presence as he steadily overwhelmed those monstrous beings through sheer force of intent.
"They stopped the sword," Adira cried out in terror, her body trembling violently under the oppressive pressure of entities that far surpassed high class.
"Be quiet," Meruem said calmly, his voice unwavering. "It's still moving. My will is greater than theirs."
And he was right. The sword continued inching closer to the cocoon, vibrating under the strain, until suddenly the cocoon split open and unleashed a blinding beam of energy that surged forward with catastrophic force, an attack Athaliah was certain should have annihilated everything in its path. She certainly would not have survived it.
Yet it did not. A translucent barrier formed instantly above them, shimmering faintly as it absorbed the beam entirely, and Athaliah realized with stunned clarity that it was Meruem's doing.
Brother, just how strong are you, she thought in disbelief, her chest tightening with awe.
"We are the lords of darkness," the voices boomed, echoing from everywhere and nowhere at once. "The end of all things, the devourers of souls, the dreamers who shape reality. Destruction is our breath, eternity our domain. All of existence our whim. Who dares stand before us?"
The voices were alien and inhuman, reverberating through the void and clawing at her instincts, awakening a primal fear of the unknown so intense that her body felt rooted in place, unable to move.
"Fascinating," Meruem said, utterly unbothered, ignoring their grand declaration as though it were background noise. "It seems centuries of being worshipped have taught you our language. Creatures of the pit rarely speak so clearly."
"Worship us," the voices continued, swelling with arrogance and certainty. "Obey us. kneel, and your every desire shall be fulfilled. We grant dreams substance and turn longing into law. There is nothing beyond our reach, no fate we cannot rewrite, no will that may stand unbroken before us."
"A word to the wise," Meruem spoke calmly, his voice carrying effortlessly through the oppressive stillness. "Increasing one's power through faith is possible, but it's rarely advisable unless you possess proper safeguards. It makes you dependent on the whims and beliefs of your worshippers, which is a fragile foundation for something that claims eternity."
"Such concerns are meaningless to greater beings," the voices replied, swelling in volume and growing sharper, more sinister with each word spoken. "Relent! Submit to us, and you shall be spared."
A sound rippled through the unnatural silence, subtle at first, then multiplying into something wrong. Athaliah's nostrils burned as a stench assaulted her senses, a foulness so overwhelming it felt as though millions of corpses from countless species had been left to rot together for ages.
The sheer revulsion made her head swim. Her night vision pierced the darkness, and when she saw what was approaching, her body recoiled instinctively.
They were creatures only in the loosest sense of the word, malformed beings sculpted from darkness itself, some bristling with countless unblinking eyes, others split by too many mouths that whispered and gnashed simultaneously, faces layered upon faces in configurations that defied any natural logic.
They were things that belonged to shadow, nameless horrors that had never known light.
"Meruem, we're surrounded," she said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to steady it, as the creatures formed a loose circle around them, maintaining distance yet hemming them in completely.
"Hmm," Meruem murmured, unfazed. "They must be the native denizens of this sub dimension, creatures of silence and likely drawn here by the disruption caused by our presence and scent."
"Relent or perish," the voices thundered again and again, while the surrounding creatures began emitting alien sounds that were neither speech nor scream, an unsettling chorus that crawled under Athaliah's skin.
"I am the prince of Sheol," Meruem said evenly. "It's you who have intruded upon my domain. I will not relent. Face me at your own peril. However, if you cease causing disturbances here, I am willing to allow you to remain in my domain, provided you pay rent of course."
Athaliah felt a jolt of disbelief at her brother's sheer audacity. To demand rent from beings of this magnitude bordered on lunacy.
"Arrogant. Prideful. Hubris ridden. Foolish," the voices snarled as the creatures around them grew louder and more agitated. "You dare test us. You dare make demands of us within our place of power. Men and women will weep at the tales of what is done to you this day."
"Oh," Meruem replied with a dismissive snort, "are you going to throw another kamehameha at me?"
Sudden movement cut through the tension. Athaliah spun instinctively, only to feel dread seize her heart as she saw Amras standing beside Adira, a dagger pressed against her throat. Chains erupted from the ground, binding Adira tightly and forcing her to her knees.
"I'm afraid they intend to do far more than that," Amras said with a wide grin, holding his hostage firmly. "Move even a fraction, and she dies. The choice is yours, Your Highness." His eyes flicked toward the surrounding monstrosities. "Either way, I doubt you will survive here if you refuse to cooperate."
"And so the traitor finally reveals himself," Meruem said with mild amusement. "How dismayingly cliche. Why are you doing these… Amras was it? I doubt you chose to serve these parasites for better living conditions."
It was deeply unsettling how unconcerned he appeared despite Adira's life hanging in the balance. They could not allow her to die. Even as an heir of a minor noble house, she was under their protection and sworn to their banner.
"You don't seem surprised by my betrayal," Amras sneered.
"Of course not," Meruem replied, sounding faintly offended. "Did you truly believe I would not notice you guiding Athaliah's familiar? The fog should have rendered even a Komodo dragon's exceptional senses useless, yet it moved with certainty, as if following a trail laid out in advance."
Athaliah stiffened. She had believed her familiar's navigation was instinctual.
"You noticed that?" Amras asked, genuinely surprised. "The King's Eye truly is legendary, to see through my concealment after all the effort I put into suppressing my demonic energy."
"You were hardly subtle," Meruem replied flatly.
"Yet you followed anyway, knowing it was a trap," Amras said coldly. "They were right when they said pride comes before the fall."
"You know, I have always envied you," Amras continued, his voice thick with resentment. "How could I not? You were born with everything handed to you, never needing to struggle or beg, while people like us scraped and clawed for scraps. I wonder how it will feel to see the miracle child kneel under my will."
"Under your will?" Meruem echoed, his tone curious rather than offended. "And how exactly do you plan to accomplish that? Do you believe you can defeat me?"
"I don't need to," Amras said smoothly. "I struck a bargain with the lords of darkness to help subdue you. You should have fled the moment you realized there was a trap, but now it is too late. They are close to ultimate class in power. You stand no chance."
"And what do you gain from this?" Rossweisse demanded sharply, her sword already drawn. "By antagonizing House Beleth, do you really believe you will escape the consequences?"
"House Beleth is a decaying relic," Amras spat with contempt. "A once feared name desperately clinging to fading glory and borrowed prestige. Soon enough, they will be nothing more than another collection of puppets under my control."
"You will accomplish nothing, traitor," Rossweisse said as she stepped protectively in front of Meruem. "Not while I am still standing."
"How feisty," Amras grinned darkly. "I'll be sure to savor breaking you once you are mine. Surrender now and I promise to make it as painless as possible. I would hate to damage such a lovely face."
"Not to a scum like you," Rossweisse said sharply, her voice laced with disgust as her gaze hardened on Amras.
"Pity," he replied with a mocking tilt of his head, then slowly turned his eyes to the creatures that lingered around them, all waiting for his command, their forms writhing and twitching in anticipation. "Athaliah," he called, his voice dripping with a mixture of arrogance and menace, making her flinch involuntarily. "Be a dear and subdue your brother's queen while I deal with him."
For several tense moments, she remained rooted to the spot, her body frozen and her mind focused, refusing so much as to glance at Rossweisse, who looked at her with a mixture of wary and confusion.
"What are you waiting for?" Amras hissed, his voice sharp with frustration and venom. "Fight her, you stupid whore!"
Athaliah still did not move. Her eyes met his unwaveringly, unflinching and cold, and she could see the flicker of realization cross his face as his expression shifted from rage to disbelief, widening his eyes in sudden comprehension.
"Well, this is awkward," Meruem said with a soft, amused chuckle, his tone calm and unshaken even amidst the tension.
"You–" Amras hissed through gritted teeth. "You broke my–"
"Yes," Meruem interrupted smoothly, his eyes never leaving the unfolding scene. "Once I discovered that she was under your control, it was rather simple to undo your technique."
"Impossible," Amras spat, frustration boiling over even as he held Adira firmly, his grip tense. "My technique affects the soul itself and is imperceptible to any form of detection. I acted flawlessly to avoid arousing suspicion. No one should have been able to detect it. No one has even come close in fifty years!"
"Well, I suppose that is true nine times out of ten," Meruem said with a grin, the red of his eyes deepening as black dots spun within them like small constellations of intent. "But there is always more than one way to catch a rat, especially if you have the right cat."
Amras's confusion was clear, his lips parting as though to speak, yet hesitation rooted him to the spot. "I don't understand how you discovered this or how you managed to break my control, but it matters little. None of you can hope to survive. I have labored for decades to come this far, and no simple oversight will hinder me now."
"I care nothing for your efforts or your plans," Meruem said, his voice cutting through the tension like steel through silk. "Now yield to me!"
Instantly, as if compelled by some unseen force far beyond his understanding, Amras released Adira. His body went slack, knees buckling, and he fell forward, eyes vacant and staring into empty space like a lifeless husk.
The alien creatures surrounding them screamed, their voices rising in shrill, chaotic unison, a storm of agitation. The dimension itself trembled as the space rippled under the pressure, yet the creatures halted, hesitating at the edge of their formation, unwilling to advance as if sensing an invisible force they dared not challenge.
Athaliah's eyes fell on her brother, standing perfectly composed and unshaken, and she knew immediately that he was the reason the creatures dared not move.
"You dare attack our servants!" the voices bellowed, their tone thick with malice and rage that seemed almost tangible, as if the air itself was laced with their fury. "Blasphemer. Abomination. Sacrilege. Profanity."
"Do you know why faith energy is generally frowned upon by the gods despite being such an easy way to increase power?" Meruem said suddenly, his tone light enough to sound conversational rather than didactic. "Beyond the obvious consequence of slowly mistaking the crowd's voice for your own, there is a quieter danger that only becomes apparent with time, one that resembles standing beneath a river whose course you do not control.
"When belief comes from countless sources, each stream arrives carrying its own temperature, speed, and sediment, and as they merge they lose the sharpness of their individual directions, settling into a broad current that moves forward without carving you into a single shape. No one worshipper can decide where the river bends, because each carries a different image of what the river should nourish, erode, or leave untouched, and the disagreements among them soften every attempt at command until they cancel each other into balance."
Meruem then glanced at Amras and smiled softly. "Yet when the river is fed by only one source, when a single spring pours into you without interruption, its pressure shapes the banks with frightening ease, and every hope, fear, and expectation carried in that narrow flow presses against you until you begin to resemble the channel imagined by that lone believer, confined by their certainty and slowly forgetting the breadth you once possessed."
Athaliah did not know where he was going with this nor what he was accomplishing by explaining his reasoning to the lords of darkness. The voices that had been so loud and overwhelming were now strangely silent, as if some part of them had been forced into contemplation by his words. The usual chaos of sound and motion, the alien cries and the constant pressure in the air, had settled into a tense, expectant hush.
"It seems you still don't understand," Meruem said, his tone carrying an almost sorrowful weight, as if he regretted having to demonstrate the truth so plainly. "They should be done by now, so allow me to demonstrate. It is your lucky day, Amras, you get to make a wish."
The air grew suddenly colder, chilling the very marrow of her bones, as if the lords of darkness themselves had been struck by premonition, and in a frenzied mix of madness and rage, the creatures surrounding them lunged toward Amras in reckless abandon, a tidal wave of shadow and shrieking forms intent on destruction.
"I wish for all of you to just fucking die!" Amras shouted, his voice raw and unrestrained, each word vibrating with the intensity of every moment of fear, hate, and frustration he had ever felt.
And then, as if the world itself obeyed the weight of his desire, everything vanished. The darkness, the creatures, the white orb that had floated like a stitched egg in the center of the sub-dimension, the voices, the smell of rot and decay, all disappeared in an instant.
She looked around, blinking against the sudden brightness, and realized they were no longer in the vast, incomprehensible sub-dimension. Instead, they were in a smaller space, likely a cave deep within the mountain itself, its walls rough and close, the air heavy but clean, carrying the faint scent of earth and stone.
A soft light streamed down from above, illuminating the cavern with a quiet, almost holy glow that contrasted sharply with the horror they had just escaped.
"W-what h-happened?" Amras stammered, still kneeling, his eyes wide with terror as he turned to Meruem, voice trembling like a leaf in a storm. "W-what did you do?"
His body quivered, and the weight of the realization pressing down on him made him seem impossibly small, a man who had always considered himself untouchable suddenly aware of the consequences he had ignored.
"Congratulations, Amras," Meruem said, his voice mockingly light, carrying amusement beneath its calm. "You have slain some wannabe godlings. The title of god-slayer would be a misnomer since they were not quite gods, but it is nonetheless a great achievement."
Amras's face blanched, his mouth opening and closing as if to protest, yet the words would not form. "Yo-you made me do this. You–" he began, but his terror stifled speech entirely, leaving only a silence that weighed heavier than any scream.
"No need to panic now," Meruem said calmly, his voice low and measured. "I would like to rip your heart out for the suffering you caused my sister, but I will let her do the honors herself."
He turned to her then and gave a small, deliberate nod, a gesture so simple that it struck her deeply. The weight that had lived in her chest since the day Amras first chained her will loosened, replaced by a cold, rising exhilaration that felt almost sacred in its cruelty, as if every moment she had endured had been quietly preparing her for this one.
She remembered his hands, his voice, the way her will had been bent and broken until her own thoughts no longer felt like her own, and she felt a terrible joy bloom as she realized that none of that bound her now, while he remained trapped inside the consequences he had so carefully built.
She stepped forward slowly, savoring the sound of her own footsteps, each one a promise long deferred, her smile forming with a tranquility that frightened even herself because it was born of rage so strong it burned her soul.
Amras tried to speak, to plead, to command, and found that nothing answered him anymore, and as she drew closer she watched the certainty drain from his face, replaced by the raw, unmistakable terror of a man who finally understood that the past he had treated as buried had risen, and was coming for him.
Karma, she realized, could be quite the meticulous bitch.
AN: The chapter ends here, and with it, the mini-arc also comes to a close. This little arc mainly existed so I could introduce some concepts, show Meruem in action, and flex his knowledge a bit. The villains were intentionally pretty simple and lacking in nuance, but that also meant I didn't waste too much time on mostly unimportant characters or bore you to death with them. It was also my way of giving you a first look at the creatures of the Eye of the Pit. This story is three chapters ahead on patreon. Consider supporting me there: patreon.com/abeltargaryen?