The Demon Among The Knights-Chapter 39 - 35:The Devil Council

The sky dimmed, the last remnants of sunlight bleeding into deep shades of violet and crimson. It felt as though the heavens themselves recoiled, sensing the storm brewing below. The kingdom square, once echoing with celebration, now buzzed with the low hum of dread. The civilians shrank back into alleys and doorways, watching with wide eyes as the confrontation unfolded.

Luci stood tall, his crimson eyes flickering like dying stars, blood still dripping from his fingers. He twirled the severed hand lazily, humming a broken tune as if tearing apart flesh were a casual pastime.

The injured mage’s screams echoed, his voice hoarse and raw, until another mage pressed a glowing hand to the wound, sealing the skin in a web of golden threads. But the pain lingered — not just in his body but in his pride. He glared up at Luci, hatred burning brighter than any spell.

The Arch-Seer didn’t flinch.

He merely watched, studying Luci like one might study a caged beast.

"You’ve let a monster off its leash," the Arch-Seer muttered, gaze sharp as a dagger.

Brian stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice like iron. "We didn’t unleash him. We recruited him."

Luci snorted, tossing the severed hand aside like trash. It landed with a wet slap against the cobblestones.

"You make it sound so noble," Luci said, voice dripping with mockery. "You needed me. Without me, you’d all be ash and bone."

The Arch-Seer’s eyes glowed faintly, magic stirring around him like an invisible tide. "And yet, you will be the death of them. That much, I have already foreseen."

Luci’s smirk faded, a flicker of something dark flashing across his face. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

Brian tightened his grip on his sword, knuckles turning white. "I don’t care about prophecies. I care about survival. And we won’t survive what’s coming without him."

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder, fear taking root like a spreading plague.

"What’s coming?"

"Is the war not over?"

"Are we doomed either way?"

The Arch-Seer tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his expression. "And what exactly is coming, Sir Brian?"

Brian hesitated, swallowing hard. He glanced back at his men — tired, broken, barely standing — then at the frightened civilians clutching their loved ones. The weight of their lives pressed down on him, heavy as the armor on his chest.

"The war we just fought..." His voice was low, steady. "It was a distraction."

The Arch-Seer’s brow furrowed.

Brian lifted his chin, the truth slicing through him like a blade. "The demons we fought were just the front line. The real army... their true forces... are already on their way."

A hush fell over the square. It was the kind of silence that scraped against the skin, sharp and painful.

The Arch-Seer’s lips pressed into a thin line. "How long?"

Brian’s voice barely broke above a whisper.

"Days. Maybe less."

The Arch-Seer’s hand twitched, fingers curling as ancient runes flared to life across his skin. The mages behind him shifted, glancing at one another with unreadable expressions.

"And you think this creature," the Arch-Seer said, gesturing to Luci, "is enough to stop it?"

Luci stretched, cracking his neck. "Creature is a bit rude, don’t you think? I prefer ’walking apocalypse.’"

Brian didn’t waver. "He’s the only chance we have."

The Arch-Seer studied Brian, then turned his gaze back to Luci, who met it without a shred of fear. They stared at each other, unblinking — light against shadow, righteousness against corruption.

Finally, the Arch-Seer spoke.

"If the demon loses control, if he so much as breathes wrong..." His voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I will personally burn this kingdom to the ground to destroy him."

Luci’s grin widened, fangs gleaming. "You can try, old man."

The Arch-Seer said nothing. He merely turned on his heel, his mages following without question. They disappeared in a burst of light, leaving behind only scorch marks where they’d stood.

The crowd slowly dispersed, the civilians dragging themselves home like ghosts. The knights lingered, exchanging worried glances, their exhaustion now laced with hopelessness.

Brian sheathed his sword, rubbing his face with a shaky hand.

"We need to prepare," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Fortify the walls... gather what’s left of our strength..."

Luci plopped down onto the edge of a fountain, casually flicking droplets of water into the air.

"You’re all acting like you’ve already lost," he muttered, voice surprisingly quiet. "It’s pathetic."

Brian turned, scowling. "People are scared. They’re tired. And they don’t trust you."

Luci leaned back, staring up at the darkening sky. "Good. Fear makes people useful." He grinned. "Besides... they don’t need to trust me."

Brian crossed his arms. "Then what do they need?"

Luci’s eyes glowed like twin embers in the fading light.

"They need to survive long enough to watch me tear that army apart."

In Hell

The dim glow of molten rivers cast flickering shadows across a grand, cavernous chamber. A colossal dining table stretched across the room, carved from obsidian and lined with sinister carvings of tortured souls writhing in eternal agony. The table itself pulsed like a living thing, faintly emitting a low, guttural hum that resonated with the heartbeat of Hell.

Eleven towering figures sat around the table, each radiating a monstrous presence that distorted the air around them. Their forms twisted and grotesque, each a manifestation of a different aspect of destruction and sin.

At the head of the table, on a throne of jagged black stone with skulls embedded in its frame, sat Lucifer himself. His crimson eyes gleamed like burning coals, his skin a shifting canvas of shadows and flames. His wings, vast and black as oblivion, draped over the sides of his throne like a death shroud.

He rested his chin on his hand, voice echoing like distant thunder crashing across an endless void.

"So... Luci has escaped," Lucifer muttered, tapping his clawed fingers against the armrest, each tap echoing like a war drum.

The air quivered.

One figure, cloaked in shadows so thick they seemed to devour the surrounding light, leaned forward. Two blazing horns protruded from his skull, eyes glowing like dying stars.

"Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Father?" the demon rasped, his voice like rusted metal scraping against bone. "We can go and capture him immediately."

Lucifer chuckled, the sound vibrating through the room and shaking the molten rivers outside. "I sent Push and Pull to retrieve him," he said, referring to two lower-ranking demons who served as Hell’s trackers. "Not surprising that they failed."

Another figure, his skin cracked and oozing lava, hissed. His eyes were bottomless pits of molten hatred. "Of course they failed. They’re insects. Even chained, Luci would tear them apart."

Lucifer grinned, his sharp teeth glinting. "Exactly. That’s why I’ve called you all here."

He rose from his throne, and the room itself seemed to buckle under the weight of his presence. "I need the First Division of the Five Embolisms to destroy humanity... and capture Luci."

The room fell silent.

One demon, with wings spread like a vulture’s and talons scraping the table, sneered. "The First Division? All five of us? Don’t insult us, Father. You know how many realms we’ve conquered alone."

Lucifer raised a hand, and the sneer faded. "I’m not doubting your strength," he said, his voice lowering to a lethal rumble. "But it’s Luci we’re talking about."

The demons shifted. Even they, Hell’s most terrifying entities, tensed at the mention of that name.

Lucifer began pacing, the floor beneath him cracking with each step. "His chains were forged from both light magic and hell magic — the only forces capable of containing him. But if he’s among humans... he might have already found a way to weaken them."

His eyes burned brighter. "If he breaks a single chain, he could kill at least two of you before being stopped."

A demon with jagged horns and skin like obsidian slammed his fist on the table, fracturing it. "Two of us? Ridiculous!"

Lucifer’s gaze snapped to him, and the demon immediately sank into his chair, smoke rising from where Lucifer’s eyes pierced him.

Lucifer leaned in, voice dripping with finality.

"If he fully frees himself..."

The air froze. Even the molten rivers outside slowed, as if the entire realm of Hell was holding its breath.

"...he’d be a threat to me."

The words fell like a death sentence, reverberating through every layer of Hell. The demons, who had devoured entire civilizations and shattered divine realms, were stunned into silence.

For Lucifer — the Morningstar, the King of Hell — to admit a threat to his existence was unfathomable.

Lucifer sat back down, resting his chin on his hand, that cruel, knowing smile spreading wider.

"That’s why I’m sending all five of you... along with a legion of demons and the Behemoth itself."

The demons stiffened. The Behemoth — a primordial beast that hadn’t been unleashed since the war against Heaven — was a weapon of apocalyptic destruction.

One of the Embolisms, her voice like a thousand tortured screams, spoke through clenched teeth. "And if that isn’t enough?"

Lucifer chuckled again, low and dark.

"If that isn’t enough... then Hell will rise, and I will personally drag my son back in chains."

The throne room trembled as Lucifer’s wings unfurled to their full span, blotting out the dim glow of Hellfire.

"Let’s prepare to bring Luci back home."

To be continued...