Chapter 527: The Demons’ Game

Azazel had mentioned, almost casually, that he had been banished from reality. Luke still didn’t fully grasp what that truly meant, even though the demon had insisted he wasn’t trying to be cryptic. Curiosity gnawed at him, but Luke held his questions back.

“I fixed the kukris you gave me that day,” Luke said, drawing them from their sheaths.

“The artifact that turns weapons into Spirit Tools did excellent work. When I learned the gift I gave you had broken, I wanted to at least give you the chance to let that pair fulfill its purpose and follow you through all your future journeys,” Azazel replied.

Luke glanced toward where the Demon Blacksmith had been standing earlier.

“There’s another demon here. What exactly do you want me to do in this place? I have no interest in joining his order or becoming a blacksmith.”

“And what do you want to do?” the demon asked in return. “Did you find what I told you to look for?”

Now that was a riddle, and Luke recognized it instantly.

“I did. It might not be what you expected, but it’s something that caught my interest. The wraith-demon clan forged a kind of weapon shaped like a beast.”

“A second core,” Azazel said. “There are ways to obtain a second core of power. Just as beasts can gain a humanoid form by awakening a soul core, it’s possible for a humanoid to acquire a beast core of their own. It’s a dangerous process, but if it succeeds… many Paths can open.”

Luke nodded. At least his deductions weren’t baseless.

“Between inheriting the legacy of becoming a blacksmith and creating a beast core, I choose the second,” Luke said.

He had no desire to become a blacksmith or join the Demon Blacksmith’s order, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in learning how such a weapon could be created.

“What do you think of my choice?”

“That depends on whether the Demon Blacksmith will tell you how, my child.”

“Gods want to establish an order in my universe. I was prepared to make an offer to the demon here, but then I had the chance to speak with you instead,” Luke said.

Azazel glanced at the chalice. “I was wondering whether you’d summon me or Samael.”

“So you knew I could set foot here. You knew from the start what I might find in this dimensional rift. Does the Demon Blacksmith serve you?”

“Not directly,” Azazel answered. “But understand this, this conversation isn’t an official one. I almost sent Samael in my place, but… it felt like I’d be an absent father if I did.”

Azazel pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Luke. “This will allow us to have our conversation properly, in my realm. For today, I’ll remain here mostly as an observer.”

Luke looked down. It was a dark invitation, blank and unmarked. He slipped it into his pocket, especially since Artemis wasn’t around, to store it in his pocket dimension.

“I’ll let things unfold as they should. Go on and follow your plan,” Azazel said, snapping his fingers.

The darkness of the chamber began to pull toward him, flowing into his body as the demon altered his own form. The towering three-meter figure shrank, compressing down to human size. The black skin vanished, as did the four eyes. Azazel became human in appearance. Two yellow eyes remained, and his horns adjusted to match the new shape. He reminded Luke of a movie star he had once seen on screen, though he couldn’t remember which.

“Now we match,” Azazel said.

The darkness dispersed. Luke felt time resume its flow, even the air returning to his lungs. The Demon Blacksmith, frozen until now, began to move once more.

***

Vaelor was staring at the Yellow-Eyed Darkness, unable to tell how this situation would end. Just as he considered speaking, everything changed. The darkness vanished. Standing before him now was a humanoid figure beside the young demon.

What just happened?

One moment reality had been one way, the next it had rewritten itself.

“Demon Blacksmith, I believe our first contact didn’t go very well. I came here to negotiate,” the young demon said calmly.

But Vaelor’s attention was locked on the other figure. Humanoid in shape, horns rising from his head, yellow eyes burning with quiet authority.

“Great Primordial of Darkness,” Vaelor said, dropping to one knee. “It is an honor to stand in your presence.”

“All right, all right,” the Primordial replied dismissively. “I’m not here in any official capacity. Still, I’m pleased you recognized me.”

“But of course. Since I was a mere wraith, I’ve heard stories of your deeds. Of how, when you began your conquest in the Universe of Fallen Stars, even—”

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“I see you’re a historian,” the Primordial interrupted. “But some of my stories, I’d rather tell myself. Especially to the young demon standing here with us.”

Vaelor’s gaze shifted to the young demon, who once again showed open irreverence by remaining standing in the Primordial’s presence.

What is actually happening here? How did this young demon draw the Primordial’s attention? And why did he call him son?

Vaelor had not been erased simply by standing before the Primordial of Darkness. That alone meant something. Even if insignificant, his existence was being acknowledged, at least for now.

“This young demon wishes to continue the conversation I interrupted,” the Primordial said. “Ignore my presence. I want to see how this unfolds between the two of you.”

Ignore his presence? Ignore the presence of the Great Primordial of Darkness?

Vaelor had no idea what was happening anymore.

“Demons like making deals,” the young demon said. “So I want to make one with you.”