Profane Prince of Domination

Meanwhile, within Southern Hell’s Royal Palace, winds of unrest kept the infernal nobility on tiptoes. And as Krann, Helmut and Elia patiently sat within a meeting hall, entertained by seven beauties, an unsettled Malkam faced the imperturbable Talroth.

"Royal father, this is fishy. The Chthonian Primogen just "died" that his children are paying us a visit? Regardless of what their motive might be, it can only do us harm. How can you possibly welcome them?"

Malkam reasoned in a tone mixing gravity and frustration. Little did he expect that they’d receive a visit of that bastard branch so soon. The situation was indeed alarming. But while Malkam’s frown didn’t conceal his worries, Talroth remained undisturbed.

"Nonsense. How can I not welcome them? Must I wait for them to blast open my palace’s gates before showing my hospitality?"

Talroth replied in such a casual tone that Malkam couldn’t comprehend where his assurance came from. As far as he could remember, his father had always been this way. Nothing could shake him. He could smile, laugh and jest, but neither rage nor fear ever flashed in his eyes. In the past, Malkam used to find that trait remarkable, a proof of Talroth’s supreme confidence in his ability to handle all things.

But now, it seemed oddly unsettling. Would the world need to collapse before he lost his composure? Or was even that not enough?!

"Royal father, I admire the calm with which you handle all situations. However, please think thrice. The brats and that unknown man’s presence must hide a scheme. If your bastard wanted to kill us, he would not send his children. After all, they are but teenagers. I assume they want something from us. What do we have to offer to that bastard? Women.

You may not care for your women, but I believe that you aside, no one in this palace is willing to offer his consorts bundled on a red carpet. Make your move, or I must take it upon myself to send them rolling."

Malkam declared. Although Talroth seemed hell-bent on letting Konrad run amok, there wasn’t one demon prince willing to surrender to him. If push came to shove, they’d rather fight than compromise. But hearing this, Talroth nodded in approval and motioned toward the door.

"Go then. But I must warn you, the - unknown man - you mentioned is his familiar. He may not be his equal, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he could make an incubus skewer out of you in the blink of an eye."

Talroth cautioned while still motioning for Malkam to rush toward his destiny.

"You!"

The demon prince trembled, barely able to restrain his ire.

"Me what? If you want to fight, go fight. Don’t disturb my cultivation over trifles. Otherwise, I might just kill you."

Talroth leisurely replied. But though the tone seemed laced in jest, Malkam didn’t doubt that if he lingered for another second, his life was forfeit. Without further ado, he turned heels and bolted toward the three guests.

"Some must taste humiliation before sharpening their minds. Ahh, what’s so good about being a demon, anyway."

...

Within the meeting hall, though Krann and Helmut patiently waited Talroth’s appearance, Elia dallied with the maids.

"You know, my old man likes girls like you the most. Willow waist and plump in all the right places. Cheap grandfather surely fed you well. Why not go back with me to the Jade Dynasty, I can guarantee you a radiant future!"

Elia pledged while taking down a glass of infernal liquor offered by the maids. For a second, the maids stopped to blink at the fourteen years old lad in disbelief. Never in their wildest dreams could they imagine anyone would dare speak such words in Talroth’s palace!

Finding the words reasonable, Krann pulled out a list of the things to snatch, and added the maids to it. Helmut, however, shook his head.

"What a disgrace."

Helmut sighed. But at that time, the door flew open, bringing alongside it a gust of wind laced in demonic energies. The gust dispersed, and out of thin air, Malkam appeared on the scene. His cold eyes swept the three, going from Krann to Helmut and from Helmut to Elia. There, he stopped.

"When his majesty welcomed your impromptu visit with open arms, you dare dally with his maids? Is this the behavior guests ought to show? Or perhaps, those are the manners taught within the Jade Dynasty?"

Malkam inquired in a calm rebuke. Although that familiar’s strength was hard to fathom, if he showed weakness within his house, he might as well not show up. But as he awaited Krann’s counterattack, little did he expect Helmut’s icy eyes to shift and lock onto him with a startling intensity.

"You must be retarded. Check your reflection in a mirror. Are the manners of a chthonian prince what a waste of your caliber can comment on? Laughable. This house must have fallen in dire straits to have you as its strongest prince."

Helmut scoffed, causing both Krann and Elia’s lips to curl into smiles. Malkam, however, found no amusement in the words. And as they faced Helmut’s icy gaze, his purple eyes shone with killing intent.

"What did you just say to This Prince?"

If before, Malkam kept his threatening tone veiled, he now failed to displayed such subtlety. And feeling the rising ire of the Legendary God, the maids whose cultivation only stood at the Minor Goddess Rank shivered in fright. Where did those three come from that they dared incur the wrath of a Legendary God?

Alas, when faced with Malkam’s display, Helmut didn’t even bat an eyelid.

"Not just foolish, but also deaf. A pity that you’ve cultivated for one million years, but only amount to this. Unless you wish to make a fool of yourself, get lost. This Prince doesn’t have time to waste on an underling."

Helmut pursued, without paying Malkam any more attention. Having never suffered such derision in one million years of existence, for an instant, Malkam stood dazed. Krann and Elia then snickered, making his fury near a feral outburst.

"How typical. You think that having your father’s familiar is enough to protect you from all harm. So you dare act with such hubris. Ultimately, you are nothing more than a pampered young master relying on his father’s might. Impressive."

Malkam countered with glaring sarcasm while anticipating Helmut’s mood change. In his eyes, that bastard branch’s nephew was nothing more than a sixteen years old lad. How strong could he be? If not for Krann’s presence, he would have long since pummeled him!

Alas, the unexpected change never came. Instead, Helmut’s lips curled into a smile while he eyed Malkam from head to toe as if appraising a buffoon.

"What need is there to involve uncle Krann for your level of goods? This Prince can squash you with his middle finger."

That was the last straw, and unable to endure more slights, Malkam spoke the most unwise words of his existence.

"Why don’t we bet on that?"

And having reached his goal, Helmut sneered at that incubus uncle’s stupidity.

"Very well. But what are the stakes? This Prince doesn’t have time to swat flies for nothing."

Helmut followed, and though he didn’t seem to be sparing Malkam a glance, from the corner of his eye, he could see the incubus prince’s face contort in grimaces. According to his father’s assessment, Malkam’s greatest flaw was his pride in his talent and bloodline strength. A pride he didn’t allow anyone to threaten. For that reason, he didn’t hesitate to ally with Surya in order to backstab Selene’s father.

Poking that pride was the most efficient way to goad him into action. And indeed, he couldn’t resist.