On the outskirts of the city stood a crumbling mansion, its once-proud walls sagging beneath the weight of ivy and decay. Windows hung shattered in their frames, and the iron gate, long rusted through, creaked endlessly in the wind.

To the casual passerby, it was nothing more than a relic of nobility fallen to ruin: abandoned, forgotten, and devoid of life. But appearances were deceiving.

Beneath its rotting timbers and dust-choked halls, the mansion concealed a secret darker than death. Within its dining chamber, the Apostles of the Demon Cult had gathered. Every one of them had varied expressions. Some were bored, some fatigued, and some were simply invested in the meeting.

At the table's head sat Kieran, the Prophet's second-in-command. The Prophet himself was focused on recovery, and so Kieran presided in his stead. His gaze swept across the assembled Apostles, cold and unyielding, as though measuring their worth in silence before a single word left his lips.

"Amon Solaris… he's investigating our movements," Kieran announced grimly.

"How does he always get in our way? Is he clairvoyant?"

Samael, the Apostle of Chaos, erupted into booming laughter, the sound rattling through the decrepit mansion like a beast unchained.

Ever since his campaign within the Clay Emperor's dominion, his power had swelled at a terrifying pace. He had feasted upon the energies of the Demon Realm itself, drinking in corruption until the fragile limits of his mortal shell splintered beneath the strain.

The change was written across his very flesh. His once-ashen hair now gleamed with an unnatural lustre, as though every strand carried a sheen of dark vitality. From his temples curved a pair of blackened horns, sharp and regal, etched with faint, pulsating runes. His eyes, once green and venomous, had surrendered fully to their abyssal inheritance—twin pits of demonic radiance that seemed to burn with madness.

But most grotesque of all was his right arm, no longer human. It had twisted into a monstrous amalgam of demon and dragon, scales of obsidian crawling across sinew that radiated raw, brutal strength. When he flexed his clawed fingers, the air itself shuddered; when he clenched his fist, it seemed as if the bones of the world might crack.

There was no questioning it… in terms of pure strength, Samael was the most powerful Apostle the Demon Cult had.

Even the most powerful living human, the Sword Saint, would find it challenging to defeat Samael, let alone kill him.

"Will his meddling affect our plan?"

Ravenna, the Apostle of Grief, lifted her hand and broke the silence with a weary question. Her voice carried the weight of exhaustion, each sentence trailing off into a resigned sigh, as though every word cost her more than she could spare.

Deep shadows clung beneath her eyes like the marks of a lifelong insomniac, and her unkempt blue hair framed a face whose green eyes had long since been drained of vitality. She looked less like a zealot of the Demon Cult and more like a woman crushed beneath endless burdens, yet that was precisely why she was indispensable.

While other Apostles pursued did as they pleased, Ravenna laboured ceaselessly in the shadows, stitching their fractured schemes into something coherent. It was she whom Kieran relied upon most, for her tireless efforts had laid the groundwork for the Cult's success in Zephys.

To her peers, she seemed perpetually on the verge of collapse. To Kieran, she was the Cult's silent backbone: an Apostle whose grief was not a mere title, but the essence of her being.

"We don't foresee any hindrances, but it's a fact that he's been holding the Demon Cult back."

"Let us have a go at him!"

"We want our revenge!"'

Dante and Damien, the Twin Apostles of Vengeance, bellowed with wrath, their voices shaking the rotting beams of the mansion. Their bodies had grown grotesquely over time, swelling with demonic energy until they resembled monsters far more than men.

Dante's flesh had turned a deep, bruised purple, his very skin radiating suffocating demonic pressure, while Damien's blue hide was etched with crawling runes that pulsed like open sores of corruption. Each was now nearly twice their former size, hulking juggernauts of muscle and malice.

Yet for all their newfound might, it was their eyes that burned brightest. Their twin gazes, glowing crimson, smouldered with an undying fury—fury reserved for one man.

Amon, the young Solaris Knight.

They had crossed paths with him once before, during the affair of the Foolish Lich. The Twins had been stationed to defend the Lich's lair, confident in their overwhelming strength. But their certainty had been shattered. Amon and his companions had cut through their defences, and the young knight, barely twenty at the time, had beaten them down with humiliating ease.

That memory festered like poison in their veins.

No amount of power gained since could erase the sting of that defeat. And so, every ounce of strength they amassed, every demonic change to their flesh, was driven by the same unyielding vow: vengeance against the boy who had dared to shame them.

"No, we can't afford to move you away from your posts. Not now, at least."

Kieran explained without compromise. As much as the Twins sought their revenge, they were far too valuable to be moved from their current duties.

"Heh, if he's a guy… There's no way he won't be affected by the Apostle of Lust."

Samael cut into the discussion with a low chuckle, his gaze sliding hungrily toward the blonde-haired woman seated across the table. His eyes burned with a twisted, lustful gleam, as though he were already imagining her bent to his will.

The woman, however, met his stare with unflinching pride. Her posture was straight, her chest thrust forward as though daring him to challenge her composure. Only when her name was called did she let her shoulders relax, exhaling through her nose in irritation. With a disdainful glance, she cast her eyes toward the Apostle of Chaos—her expression sharp, cold, and openly repulsed by his presence.

"I heard that your niece is his partner? Maybe if you bring her over to your side… We'll be able to control the brat. And if you need help, I'm more than happy to lend you a hand!"

"Shut it, Samael. No matter how you try to phrase it, we can all tell your disgusting motive."

"Aha, was it obvious? You've always been the unobtainable flower of the Demon Cult. The Apostle of Lust that doesn't sleep with any man. At the very least, let me sleep with your niece!"

Isadora, the Apostle of Lust. Unlike her moniker, the woman hasn't lain with a single man in her entire life. That said, her ability to stimulate and control others using their lust was unparalleled, so much so that Samael had almost performed the cardinal sin and attempted to take her forcibly. If not for the Prophet and the Demon Cult defending her, Isadora's chastity would have been ruined.

"Silence, Samael… I didn't gather all of you here today to brew infighting."

"Heh, acting like our leader, huh?"

"With the Prophet in recovery, I am your leader."

"Big words from a guy who had never fought once on the battlefield."

"..."

Kieran, the Apostle of Domination, was often regarded as the true administrator of the Demon Cult. It was he who aided the Prophet in weaving long-term schemes, who placed spies like seeds in the Hyades Republic, and who quietly spread the Cult's shadowy influence through backhanded deals and coercion.

He was not the most powerful demonic human among the Apostles; his strength paled beside some of the more monstrous figures at the table, but influence was its own weapon, and in that regard, none could rival him.

It was Kieran who decided which strings were pulled and which chains were fastened, who made sure the Prophet's vision seeped into every corner of Zephys.

So even with the most fearsome Apostle breathing down his neck, his composure never wavered. Calm, calculating, and unreadable.

Samael, the Apostle of Chaos.

Ravenna, the Apostle of Grief.

Dante and Damien, the Twin Apostles of Vengeance.

Isadora, the Apostle of Lust.

And Malachi, the former Apostle of Subservience, who lost his life to Amon.

All of them paled in comparison to the mastermind who plotted the demise of the Hyades Republic—Kieran, the Apostle of Domination.

"Samael… Remember this… If I wanted to, I would have destroyed you and your gospel a million times over. And…"

Kieran's mana surged, flooding the chamber like an invisible tide. For a breathless moment, every Apostle felt as though their very souls were being torn from their flesh. The weight of his presence pressed down on them, not with raw force, but with an authority so absolute it etched itself into their bones.

It was the suffocating sensation of standing before something that should not be defied, an echo of the Demon King himself. Their throats tightened as they swallowed, not merely out of fear but in a strange, unwilling reverence.

Kieran's power slithered into their minds, bending thought and instinct alike, corrupting and reshaping them until resistance felt unthinkable. He was not the strongest Apostle; his strength could never rival the raw might of Samael or the savage Twins, but in the realm of will and dominance, he was unmatched.

Even Samael, whose chaotic strength dwarfed all others at the table, found his laughter falter. Under that suffocating gaze, he, too, recoiled, forced to acknowledge that brute power meant nothing against the will of a man who could command minds as easily as breathing.

"Never underestimate me again."

"Heh, you should have done that earlier."

While Samael was the Apostle of Chaos, he knew when to back down for his own sake. If he continued to push Samael and Isadora's buttons, it could backfire badly on him. Hence, he rested and allowed the conversation to continue.

"Our mission in the capital… must succeed, for it is the turning point of our grand plan. That's why I want no further interruptions from hindrances like Amon Solaris. I have laid a trap for him."

"Will it succeed?"

"If it kills him, great. Otherwise, it will incapacitate him for a few days. Using that time, we will accelerate our plans. Ravenna and I have laid the groundwork, and we will execute it… as soon as Amon falls."