The backdoor of the large decrepit warehouse was flung open harshly and a middle-aged man came storming in with heavy steps in spite of his age. The warehouse was in complete darkness, save for the centre which was illuminated scantily by a lonely dangling lamp. A large round table was just below that meagre light. There were already around a dozen people seated around it, all of who were of important and significant status going by their wardrobe. Some of those people turned their gaze towards the middle-aged man, who was striding towards the table with a blatant look of vexation and reluctance.

“Ah, Lord Bealor,” exclaimed a young man with golden hair who had his legs plopped onto the table. “I didn’t expect you to come.” 

“I’m not in any mood for your japes, Lord Grant,” retorted the middle-aged man who was Lord Bealor. He took a seat by the table with a loud huff and his arms crossed after he took off his gloves. “What the hell are we even here for?”

Grant shrugged. “Alvon’s the one who called for this assembly. You can ask him when he gets here.”

“Alvon’s the one who summoned us but he’s still nowhere to be seen,” grumbled a loosely-dressed man with flaky black hair that covered one of his eyes. “But it’s quite unusual for him to be late, to an assembly he called for no less.”

“You think something went wrong, Sir Roland?” asked Grant. 

“Of course, something went wrong. He wouldn’t have called for this assembly with urgency otherwise.”

“I couldn’t care less if this is urgent,” Bealor grunted. 

“Did someone spat in your morning coffee, Lord Bealor?” Roland asked with an amused smile.

“He called for us in the middle of the day. Unlike you, Sir Roland, I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Unlike me?” Roland snorted. “Aren’t we all agents of the Demon Queen?”

“I have a seat at the High Court and I was attending it, damn it, before I was summoned. This is parlous as it is foolish. Even the king and his witless immediate vassals aren’t that blind and dumb to not question my sudden leave.”

“I was in the middle of some important matters too before Alvon called for the assembly.”

“Fornicating with some Pansies you met at a bar or a back alley. Only you will see that as important, Sir Roland.”

“It is important. It’s essential to my mental health but no, that’s not the important matter I was referring to. I was in the middle of a training session with General Vilco’s brigade.”

“General Vilco? Since when were you acquainted with General Vilco?”

“Since a week ago, when the beasts’ mating season started.”

Bealor clicked his tongue and gave no further retort to Roland.

It was then the backdoor of the warehouse was flung open again but this time, it was done so with moderate force. A modest pace of steps echoed throughout the warehouse as the newcomer approached the round table along with two cloaked individuals trailing behind. The two individuals had a height difference of more than a foot, giving off a very subtle comical feel.

“Lord Alvon…” Grant exclaimed with feeble enthusiasm. “You’re finally here and I thought we would be waiting for an hour.”

Alvon did not retort to Grant’s words nor did he offer any of the people here a greeting at all. He simply walked up to the last empty seat around the table but instead of taking a seat, he tossed that chair aside and took his place standing. “I apologised for such an incredibly short notice of gathering you all here but this is of paramount importance.”

Roland chuckled. “If it’s so urgent, wouldn’t a letter suffice instead of going through the lengthy process of gathering all of us here?”

Alvon glared at Rolan impassively. “As I have said, it’s important. I need to look you all in the eyes as I tell you all about this matter.”

Roland shrugged. “Fair enough.”

“Just get on with it already, Lord Alvon,” Bealor grumbled. “Some of us here are extremely busy.”

“Very well, Lord Bealor. This is a matter concerning His Highness.”

In an instant, a clamour of gossips and mutterings bloomed around the table.

“His Highness?” Grant blurted out. “Which one?”

“The Queen’s. Our true Queen.”

“So it’s true then…” Bealor said. “The boy you were seen with and given the utmost treatment by you, he’s the Prince, isn’t he?”

“Prince Augrun is his name.”

“Since when did the Queen have a son?” asked an agent.

“Not important,” Alvon answered. “What’s important is his edict.”

That agent had a dire look of disbelief when Alvon dismissed him just like that.

“There’s a female Beastfolk slave named Kara. She was sold in the tomb a year ago and His Highness wishes to find this girl.”

“Why?” someone asked.

Alvon ignored that inquiry and continued with his briefing. “This is Highness’ edict find this girl.”

“You can’t be serious, Lord Alvon,” Bealor scoffed.

“I am, Lord Bealor.”

“The Elders would never let us take a look at their books and even if they do let us take a peek, the records will be all anonymous. What do you expect us to do?”

“Your best,” Alvon answered curtly. 

“Dear me, Alvon. Do you not normally do these kinds of things yourself to get all the glory?” Roland asked with a simper.

“I had, Sir Roland. I have done everything in my power to find this girl but my efforts bore no fruit. And you are right, I would rather have this glory all to myself but I know my limits and His Highness’ contentment took precedence.”

“You won’t tell us why His Highness wants this beastly slave?” Grant asked.

“Careful with your words now, Lord Grant,” Alvon warned. “His Highness hates that derogatory term.”

“The Prince is in love with this Beastfolk girl, is he not?” Roland said.

“If you value your well-being, Sir Roland, you best keep that assumption in your head and heart.”

“Alright alright. So, what else can you tell us about this edict?”

“I have told everything there is for you all to know. Find this girl, that’s all there is to it. You all have a day.”

Bealor snorted loudly. “That’s it? That’s all you would be telling us? You won’t tell us why this so-called Prince Augrun wants this beastly slave girl and you expect us to just suck it all up and get results in just a single day?”

“Yes,” Alvon answered.

“You are disillusioned, Lord Alvon. You have changed.”

“Change is something everyone goes through, Lord Bealor. Is it that surprising?”

“I’m not surprised. I’m disappointed in you, Lord Alvon.”

“If that’s your evaluation of me, then so be it, Lord Bealor. I do not care. Just make sure His Highness won’t be disappointed when tomorrow comes.”

Lord Bealor slammed his fist onto the table. “Don’t fuck with me, Alvon!” he roared. “Do you realise how absurd this order from this apparent Prince is?”

“Apparent Prince? What are you suggesting here, Lord Bealor?”

“You know damn well what I’m suggesting. Where is this Prince? Why isn’t he here briefing us if it’s so important?”

“I never take you for an indirect person, Lord Bealor.”

“Fine, I’ll be direct. Are we doing this for this so-called Prince’s sake or yours? How’s that for direct?”

“So, you’re implying that I’m using the Prince’s name in vain for my sole personal benefit that is in no way related to the Queen or the Prince?”

“I’m implying that if there’s even a Prince at all.”

Most of the people around the table gasped at Bealor’s audacity and boldness. 

“Why would you ever think that way, Lord Bealor?”

“Because you think we’re fools and we could be easily tricked into doing your bidding.”

“I certainly do think that that way but I won’t be using the Queen nor the Prince’s name for that.”

“Fucking son of a—!”

“Calm down, Lord Bealor!” Granted shouted as he rose from his seat. “This is unbecoming of you. This is no place for you to lose your composure. This assembly is already conspicuous enough. You don’t want to make any more so now, do you?”

Lord Bealor clenched his fists tightly while staring daggers at Alvon but he ultimately tutted and sat back down.

“Thank you, Lord Bealor,” Grant said and took his seat.

“Don’t thank me just yet, Lord Grant. I’m refusing this so-called edict.”

Another series of gasps went around the table.

Even the queer Roland was looking at Bealor with surprise painting his expression. 

“I don’t understand you, Lord Bealor,” said a woman in her late thirties with dark violet hair and dressed in a gaudy yet drab gown. “We have been doing the Queen’s bidding without question for so long. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Change is something everyone goes through, Lady Valena. Look at us, we have done so much for the Demons and we have done it without question. And just last year, one of us was discarded without any opportunity for a plea.” 

“That man betrayed us, Lord Bealor. It’s already a miracle that he was swiftly killed.”

“Was that truly the case or was that just simply what Sera told us? Have none of you thought about that?” Lord Bealor looked around the table as he asked. “Or are you all just so gutless? I have no intention of being an expendable puppet forever, certainly not for a Queen that I have never met nor a Prince that I doubt that even exists.”

“Lord Bealor, I sincerely advise you to rein in your rage or else you will surely regret it,” Alvon said.

“You’re threatening me now, Alvon?!” Bealor snarled as a greatsword manifested into his hand.

“That storage ring is a gift from the Demon Queen as a gesture of her good faith but you’re now using it to brandish a sword against someone who speaks with the Prince’s voice?”

Lord Bealor chortled uproariously. “You? Speak with the Prince’s voice?” he scoffed. “You are truly disillusioned and delusional, Alvon. Your bodyguards are strong, I can tell, but how strong are they against me who has the strength of a Greater Demon?”

Alvon sighed. “Now who’s the one being disillusioned and deluded?”

“I’m not the one who claimed to be speaking with the so-called Prince’s voice.”

“But I do.”

“Says who?!”

“Says the Prince,” it was the shorter cloaked figure standing beside Alvon who answered.

“What was that?!” Bealor immediately snapped his glare and his greatsword at the cloaked figure that ridiculed him. “You can’t even control your bodyguard’s words. Disappointing, Alvon.”

“Bodyguard? Who says I’m a bodyguard?” asked the cloaked figure. “I didn’t expect the former great General Baelor to be as dim as this warehouse.”

Alvon chuckled wryly and stepped aside, making way for the cloaked figure to take his place.

At this point, quite a few of the agents had already caught on to the farce but only Lady Valena and Sir Roland were sure without a doubt of their assumptions. They immediately got off their seats and dropped to their knees. When the others saw what the two did, they quickly bounced off their chairs and knelt. Alvon grinned and also went down on his knees.

The mood around the shifted drastically. Fear was suddenly in abundance amidst the fading abounded dignity that was ruling the discussion just seconds ago.

Bealor lowered his greatsword. Terror filled his heart but his pride did not allow his terror to be shown on his face. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Someone you presumed that doesn’t exist,” Augrun said as he lowered his hood. The light was sparse but his dark reddish-golden hair and the pair of short horns on his forehead could not be passed over. He then took off a bracelet he had been wearing on his right hand and the moment the bracelet left his hand, an overwhelming oppressive aura permeated the warehouse. Though the agents all had a fragment of Demonic Power within them, the aura of the Demon Prince and a Supreme Demon could not be completely nullified.

Despite the immense heavy feeling weighing down on him, Bealor refused to drop to his knees. He kept his glare on Augrun. “Is this how it is? Is this your scheme? To make a fool out of me just so you will have a valid reason to cast me out?”

“I did nothing.” 

“You deceived me. You trick me into—”

“Are you saying that you wouldn’t have done all that if you knew I was watching? Won’t that just be you deceiving me? How hypocritical of you, Lord Bealor.”

“I stand by what I said. I didn’t become an agent of you Demons just to become your puppets.”

“You said it like you don’t already know this would be how your fate would turn out to be or are you that delusional to think you will rise to the level that the Demons would think highly of you whenever your name is mentioned?”

Bealor wanted to baulk but each of his words was stuck in his throat. His face had turned red from the embarrassment that he didn’t even know he was feeling. 

“What’s this? No retorts at all? No more glare or words of defiance?”

Bealor didn’t even realise he was no longer glaring at Augrun until the Demon Prince pointed it out. The presence of Augrun was affecting him more than his ego would allow him to admit.

Augrun sighed and slumped down onto a chair. “What to do with you? You will be decapitated for this if you go by this kingdom’s law and if we go by mother’s… you will be killed and your soul would be thrown into the Requiem, forever damned. Sounds boring but it is very concise. However, that’s too easy in my perspective. It’s too final. So, I am not going to kill you, but you will end up in a state where you would rather be killed.”

“And you think I’m just going to be idly by while you enact what you said you will?”

“It would certainly be less agonising for you if that’s the case.”

Bealor chuckled. “Lest you forgot, Demon. I have the power bestowed to me by the Demon Queen. If you think I will go let everything run its course as you have envisioned, then you’re dead wrong!” Dark energy exuded from Bealor as a black mass encrusted his body, turning into a suit of armour.

“You are not very bright or you’re just woefully ignorant,” Augrun said and flicked his fingers. As if the black mass had a bunch of strings attached to Augrun’s fingers, the black armour was instantly pried off of Bealor. The armour turned back into the puddle of black mass, which Augrun absorbed every last bit into his body.

Devoid of Demonic Power, Bealor lost his grip on his greatsword that had become too heavy for him to wield. His grey balding hair turned white in seconds. His body shrunk as his muscles disappeared. Wrinkles decorated his face. He fell to his knees, gasping for air.

“Ugh… why would any of you want something like this?” Augrun muttered as he stared at Bealor’s rapid degradation. When he looked at the agents’ faces, he could instantly tell a lot of them weren’t expecting something like this.

“You damn… Demon…!” Bealor spat. His voice was croaked and it could barely be heard. “You would never… understand… our suffering and pain…”

Augrun scoffed. “Suffering and pain? I didn’t know you were a peasant. You have everything, you greedy old fuck.”

Bealor groaned but he could barely raise his head now, let alone his body.

“Even without becoming an agent of us Demons, you would still have your position in the High Court. I don’t doubt the Queen has rewarded you all handsomely for each task you lot has completed, or else none of you would still be here. But you, Lord Bealor, not even those rewards were enough for you, was it? You just wanted more. You’re very voracious. I doubt even the throne could sate that appetite of yours.”

“You will regret this… all of you…”

“And why would we?”

Bealor laughed feebly. “If I… were to die… go missing… something terrible happens to me… in about twenty-four hours…, everything about the lot of you… will be exposed to the king and also the other nations…”

There were a lot of gasps and mutterings but this time, even Alvon had his eyes widened.

“Oh, really?”

Bealor snorted. “You don’t… believe me…, Your Highness?”

“I do believe you. I just thought you have something else planned. But it turns out it’s just like Sera had told me.”

“You don’t understand… do you? If none of you here helps me… you will all… go down… with me…!”

“I understand completely fine, Lord Bealor. It’s you that do not understand. This contingency plan of yours… you should have put a routine assessment of it in place. That way, you would have known if this contingency plan of yours is still even in place.”

“Impossible…”

“Oh, and it’s not just yours,” Augrun said and looked at everyone around the table. “Whatever contingency plans you all have in place in case you are being dismissed from the servitude of the Demons, the Queen knows. I know too and so do a whole lot of other Demons.” Augrun could see half of the people here were drained of their colours, one of them was Grant.

“No way…” Rolan muttered as he gazed around. “You all have something like that?”

Augrun smiled at those pale faces. “Fret not, you are all excused, this time around.”

“You foul creatures… You wretched mongrels…!” Despite his severely weakened state, Bealor was still cursing through his teeth. 

“You’re still talking… My goodness. You’re very tenacious. I suppose your reputation isn’t all just for show but no worries, I came prepared.” Augrun gestured at the cloaked figure beside him. The figure approached him and thrust out its arm. There was no hand coming out from the sleeves. Instead, a small and black slug-like creature dropped out from the sleeve hole onto Augrun’s palm.

Bealor finally stopped cursing when he saw that slug-like creature wriggling in Augrun’s palm.

“Do you know what this is, Lord Bealor?”

Bealor did not answer. He was simply shuddering without a sound.

“This is an Abyss Worm, created from the blood of the Demon Queen herself. It crawls into its victim’s brain and feeds on it over the course of five years. In those five years, the victim can be controlled by the Demon Queen or any other individuals the Demon Queen designated upon. Of course, being the Prince, I naturally have control over this worm. Over the course of these five years, you would appear to the humans like an old man that is merely going senile. No one would suspect there’s a parasite in your brain.”

“I-I’m sorry….” Bealor uttered. “I’m truly sorry… I-I was wrong… Please… forgive me…”

“Wow, now you’re sorry. I suppose these little buggers are very frightening.”

“Please… forgive me… I won’t tell anyone about this… I’m sorry… I—!”

Augrun shut Bealor up by gripping his lower jaw tight, forcing his mouth to open. “Don’t choke on it now,” Augrun said and slipped the Abyss Worm into Bealor’s mouth. Augrun kept his jaws shut until he sensed the Abyss Worm had wriggled its way to Bealor’s brain.

When Augrun released Bealor from his grip, he went still as if he was frozen by time. His hair returned to its grey colour. His muscles returned to his body. However, his gaze was as hollow as the abyss.

Augrun met the gazes of all the ones around the table. “I’ll be expecting some good news about Kara by tomorrow,” he told them with a smile.