Maximilian stared down at the sniveling human child before him. “What… did you… just say?”

“I-I’m sorry, M-max!” the big child, one of the competitor’s boys, stuttered through chattering teeth. “I c-came as soon as I-I heard!”

Rubbing his hands together as a plan formed in his head, Maximilian considered how he could make use of the information he’d received. Just to verify, he knelt down to the boy twice his size and stared him in the eyes. His transformation might’ve been tiny, but the malevolent glow of demonfire playfully dancing through his eyes equalized and crushed any semblance of resistance the young child might’ve mustered.

“Run that by me again, and do it fast, before I cut your tongue out!” he growled, smacking the boy in the face.

“Braxy and Lily are planning to rob the Heinrich’s family heirloom!” the child spurted out as fast as he could. He whimpered as Maximillian raised his hand, flinching away. “Please do—argh!”

The boy’s life wilted before Maximillian as green flames withered across his body in a dance of death and ash and decay. Maximillian didn’t have any more time to waste if he wanted to get ahead of those brats. They’d been in his way far too often and ruined so many of his plans, but from what the boy had said, they’d disappeared to who knew where.

This was his opportunity to get ahead of them by using Dax’s connection to the merchants. If he wanted to Awaken and steal away the Amulet of Despair for himself, he’d need to move—and fast.

Before the boy’s body hit the ground, he was already moving towards the hideout Dax had made his base of operations for the time being. He double-checked his transformation for any cracks after using a bit of his Sin, but no. All was well.

In fact, if the night went well, all would be far more than well. He would flourish and satisfy his Sin, maybe experience a growth spurt and increase his Existential Ranking, or possibly even more.

He rubbed his hands, the image of hanging the Amulet of Despair around his neck and bringing his competition to kneel before him spurring him forward faster. He’d give them a sliver of hope before snuffing out their pathetic existences.

But first, he’d need Dax.

*

Lucifer’s palace was the opposite of what you’d expect if you heard the words Emperor of Hell and imagined his usual haunts. There were a few tortured souls slaving away in the fields outside, but those weren’t actually Lucifer’s but instead belonged to some of his lesser underlings who thought it was their “duty” to make the place live up to its image.

No. The palace itself was quite well-kept, maintained around the clock by a veritable horde of servants, and breathed a serene air that contrasted the rest of Hell’s chaotic atmosphere. To be expected though, all things considered.

How could the palace of the greatest archdemon of pride, Hell’s Glorious Emperor, be relegated to blend in with the rest of Hell. It stood out like a sore thumb due to this strange dichotomy and made it impossible to miss.

Abraxis passed through the main gate unimpeded after shooting the two sentinels a warning look. Could he beat them in a fight? He’d never admit he couldn’t, so it was best not to think about such a thing. However, they weren’t guarding Lucifer’s palace because they were normal, that was for sure.

After passing through the tunnel and into the main walkway leading into the palace, Beelzebub’s devoted followers had pens of unruly demons and unfortunate human sacrifices. The archdemon embodied the insatiable desire to eat, and eat, and eat like his stomach was made of a black hole.

He’s too narrow-minded, Abraxis grumbled to himself. Gluttony was something not restrained to such a simple form, to only the consumption of food. Sins were far more loose with their definitions, he’d noticed long ago, but the rest of Hell’s denizens seemed stuck with an affixed conceptualization—almost as if they’d all agreed upon some unspoken decree. That’s why I’ll become the greatest and surpass the Hells, Heavens, and whatever lies beyond.

The entrance to the palace, two obsidian doors with crimson filigree, swung open. Althazar—not to be mistaken with the half-demon Balthazar—waited on the other side of the double doors and received Lilith without a word.

“Make sure she gets proper rest,” Abraxis said, passing the butler. Frankly, how another who embodied pride could bow their head and willingly enter servitude, Abraxis would never understand. Althazar was nothing but a disgrace and didn’t have the right to bear pride as his Sin, but somehow he managed to make it work.

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The palace’s interior was quite pleasant on the eyes—hard blackrock sculpted to perfection and Demongold casually lining features, sculptures, and hanging artworks on the walls like it was the air they breathed. The sights stirred his greed. He wanted to grow his own estate into something that made Lucifer’s palace look smarmy and dank.

A staircase and multiple servant ways lined the east and west walls, which Althazar carried Lilith up. They disappeared into the east wing, making something not-so-great stir in his chest. Unease, an unfamiliar thing he most certainly did not appreciate.

Pushing that aside, he made his way into the throne room. Lucifer, obsidian skin and black-feathered wings, looked bored from where he sat on the throne. There were dozens, if not hundreds, of other demons in attendance.

But none of that mattered the second Abraxis walked in the door. The Emperor of Hell raised his hand, and all in attendance knelt, bowing their heads to the point they pressed flat against the floor. Abraxis recognized many amongst the assembly. None of those present were prideful, definitely not.

And if they were, they didn’t deserve to be, much like Althazar.

The hubbub of his adoring fans, most of the demonic nobility, Existential Ranking only a step below Lucifer—yet they still felt the chasm of his greatness. One day, Abraxis would surpass that greatness and have adoring fans all the same.

As customary, Abraxis was required to make a formal greeting. “Emperor,” he said, meeting Lucifer’s gaze, “I’ve come as requested.”

Now that the minimum requirement to greet the archdemon was fulfilled, a twinkling light of amusement in Lucifer’s eyes, Abraxis drew a thin line across his wrist and walked to the center of the room, nobody daring to stand in his path.

They knew him well and how Lucifer felt. The hierarchy was unshakable for those who lacked power, and it would remain as such for all of eternity. That was the demonic way.

In the center of the room, a fixture crafted of pure Miasma was cemented to the ground with bone-like claws that wrapped around an empty orb. This orb wasn’t something as simple as it appeared, much like the Sins and their own complexity. Rather, it could be used for many things.

Unless you were Abraxis. When he smeared his black blood against the empty orb, rather than any combination of Sin, any kind of Virtue, only a whiteness appeared. Not violet for pride, red for wrath, green for envy, or any of the others. Hell, Abraxis almost wished for the lusty pink color to fill the orb, but he knew it wouldn’t.

Only the same response every time, unknown bloodline and unlimited Existential Ranking potential growth.

He’d done this countless times, each and every time he met with Lucifer. Almost as if he was made to speak of the uncertainty and uniqueness of his lineage and his existence as Lucifer’s own trophy to all in attendance.

Each and every time.

But Abraxis let such a thing go, or rather, he couldn’t fathom to hold it against the archdemon. No, the amount of Sin, specifically pride, radiating off the man scrambled Abraxis’ Nexus. He’d never before Awakened, so he had no measure of defense against the monster that was Lucifer. Even if he increased his Existential Ranking, he’d have to Awaken at least twice, maybe even three times to withstand the man’s mere presence.

Yet, as he integrated the Sin into his every fiber, he grinned back at the Emperor. Fogginess left his mind as his greed consumed, attempting to fill the unfillable void at the core of his being.

“What an enigma.” Those in attendance hung onto his every word, to include Abraxis. His refined elegance and grace, the simplicity of his words and their measured delivery. Every action was calculated, every action precise. If perfection existed, Lucifer embodied it perfectly. “Still the same, it appears. I might Awaken you myself just to see if something changes,” he said, eyes flashing with an immeasurable curiosity and desire.

Abraxis could relate. He didn’t skip a beat with his response, “Please do. I’m quite curious myself.” No matter how bad he felt the core of his very being tremble, he refused to let it show. Responding felt like he was set on a several-second delay he had to rush through, like he spoke submerged in Belphegor’s pure Sin, “What am I here for? I have places to be, Emperor.”

“You’re not here to see me.”

The sly look tugged at something primal in Abraxis. He couldn’t even hold being deceived against the man, only a resigned admiration filling his chest. Pride filled him endlessly for so many reasons, and he knew a growth spurt would be unavoidable at this rate.

Andariel, in all her lusty glory, wrapped her arms around Abraxis’ shoulders. Immediate was the effect of her charm, but rather than arouse him, it sobered all the traces of fugal admiration he’d previously held for the Emperor of Hell.

No, now he fought to survive this encounter. Wrath blazed like a wildfire in the Emperor’s eyes, and Abraxis could tell only Lucifer’s curiosity about the origins of the enigmatic bloodline running in Abraxis’ veins saved him in that instant.

The next thing to save him was himself, as he deftly removed himself from the entrapment of the Queen of Succubi. In the face of the two archdemons, he knew he was outgunned—and the difference wasn’t something he could survive if he wasn’t careful. So he wracked his brain as much as he could.

Thankfully, others in attendance didn’t have the same training against the lust-generating charm magic that ran in Lilith’s veins, given to her by the very person threatening his existence with such casual ease. That burned a hole in his Nexus faster than anything, the struggle to resist draining him faster than he’d generated Sin from Lucifer.

A nasty give and take, this. The other demons, greater and noble demons alike, met their end as they rushed forward, overcome completely by Andariel’s charm. Lucifer didn’t hesitate to leave them little more than ash and dust after making an example of all that moved. Snickering filled the room as those that knew better lavished in the demise of their competition and appreciated the simple yet effective trap the two archdemons employed. Really nasty, these two.