Africa: As you can imagine, World War Three (2042-2069) messed up our world pretty bad. It was the most devastating war in human history, with more casualties in that 18 years than there were in the past two centuries. We lost 3 billion. That’s almost 40% of our population. And no place had it worse than Africa. Even before then, Africa was in trouble, droughts, famine, civil wars, rogue states, a lot of places in it required international aid. And when World War Three started, that aid disappeared. Suddenly, the value of resources like oil, food, water and metal shot up, surpassing everything else – friends, families and lives. Whole nations toppled in those two decades; governments fell to warlords, tribes evolved to become militias and bandits, and people had to resort to despicable methods to survive. And when South Africa fell in the last few years of the war, everything south of Egypt plunged into anarchy. After Exodus, that’s where the worst of the Edenists settled as well. The criminals, terrorists, mercenaries, the rogue groups, even the Constellation fears it, choosing to contain their problems within rather than risking their lives. Till this day, we call that area the Lost Continent, and few dare to venture in there. Travel there is difficult, and one must fly to the African Belt – Egypt, Morocco, Algeria and Libya to venture within. Information is scarce, and for good reason. One in three who go in, don’t come out.
Chapter 7: A Whole New World
“Are you serious?” Falvius gasps out. “You were telling us about how powerful this… Constellation is, and now you want us to infiltrate the one fucking nation that is in charge of and attack it?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. The Acolytes here are idiots.
“Well… Lord Beelzebub told me to find a target high profile enough to make…a statement about Nihile Power…” The Acolyte stammers out, and Falvius almost feels sorry for him.
He wonders what crime he committed to be expelled from Pandora, and what trials he has faced to cross the Void into Sol.
The poor ghoul in front of him has endured a life of suffering only to land in Sol. No doubt, when the image of a Nihile Lord had appeared before him he was overjoyed, thinking that he had been forgiven and could finally go home. Instead, he finds himself in the Lost Continent – Sol’s cesspool of scum and filth, being forced to do the bidding of seven children.
Six children, Falvius corrects himself, and one adult.
The can of beer he holds reminds him of his new-found title, and that it is two weeks into the new year – two weeks into his adulthood. He hates the taste, it is bitter and burns his throat, but he drinks it because he can, and to remind himself that his life sucks shit. The ghoul has nothing on him; he committed a crime against Pandora, and hence he is here. It is by no one’s fault but his own for his fate. He however, has basically gotten his face shoved into a pile of pure fuckery because his grandfather deems him ready.
He takes another long sip, pretending to enjoy the revolting liquid, which earns looks of longing and envy from his friends. Friends that chose to follow him into this hellhole.
Here, they are no longer just friends; they are his faithful lieutenants as well. He is glad that they are – it makes the journey to his impending doom all the more bearable, and he is grateful that they are willing to go so far for him. There is one from each race, and he would offer them a drink as a token of appreciation, but alas, they are underage.
“Two months.” He reminds them, “Two more months before I can let any of you guys drink some of this.”
They scowl at him, and they turn to the more pressing matter at hand to remind him of the reason he is drinking in the first place.
“Find us another target, I don’t want to open a Gate in the middle of a city filled with wannabe heroes and vigilantes,” Corith orders the kneeling ghoul.
“Master Phenex, with all due respect, given the fact that you’re army has less than ten thousand men, this is the most… viable option.” The ghoul bows his head, hoping that his words will not offend them.
It doesn't work, and Eve immediately gets on her feet, and releases a fraction of her power at the shivering form grovelling at her feet. Her long black hair starts floating in the air like snakes and her Serpent eyes are aimed right at the object of her ire. The malicious intent is unbearable, and the ghoul’s forehead touches the floor. Even Falvius is forced to raise his mental defences. But he does nothing to stop her, because the ghoul has implied that his army is weak, and he will not stand for such insubordination. The fact that he has seen the daughter of Leviathan at full power and is terrified by it is completely irrelevant to his lack of resistance.
“Are you questioning the abilities of our army?” The tone is dangerous, and it hints to the suffering that is to come if the ghoul replies in any way that even implies an affirmative answer. The rest of them look on in interest, imagining what cruel fate lies ahead for the poor soul that has ignited the legendary Leviathan temper.
“Not at all, Mistress Leviathan!” the ghoul gets up and frantically denies, and the pressure eases up a little. “It is just the quickest way to achieve the same results!” and the ghoul resumes his kowtowing.
“Explain.” Falvius orders, and Eve sits back down, while the ghoul rushes to the map of Earth on the wall.
“The American Union is the most militarized and populous nation, and it is also the headquarters of the Fallen Angel population. It will take far too much time to secure an area to use as a landing zone, not to mention there is the possibility of intervention from Heaven if we take too long.” He looks at his general nervously, and Falvius nods; the explanation is reasonable.
He then continues. “Vatican Haven is out, you might as well declare war on Heaven itself if you attack, as well as anything close to it, so that rules out the rest of Europe and the African Belt.”
He points to rather large piece of land, and then shrugs. “You can take Africa if you want, easily in fact, but err…nobody actually cares about or wants this giant piece of shit, not to mention it will be too chaotic to use as a staging ground for an invasion.”
There is a sudden sound of explosion, and they turn to the window and see a plume of smoke rising in the distance. It is followed by gunshots and more explosions, though smaller in magnitude.
The ghoul tries to reassure them, even though they are not worried in the least.
“Don’t worry. My men will take care of them. Those armed bandits will not even make it to the second perimeter.” There is a hint of pride in his voice, and Falvius’ opinion of the ghoul rises by a little.
“Continue.” Samus commands, and the ghoul fumbles with the pointer in his hand, before circling a large portion in the east of the map with it.
“That leaves these 3 places: the Oriental Federation in the North, the Oceanian Republic in the South and Hope City in between, which is so small you can’t even see it on the map.”
Falvius understands the ghoul’s reasoning now, but he has already spoken against it, and it will hurt his pride to accept his advice after they have so violently (he shoots a look at Eve) rejected it.
“Why can’t we take over an area in the other two countries then? They’re big enough that they won’t notice an information blackout from a small territory.” Jorjei points out, and Falvius agrees with the Goblin. It would raise too many eyebrows if an entire nation, one protected by the Constellation especially, were to suddenly go dark.
“Well… er… you can, I suppose. But I don’t think the Apostles that run those two countries will be very happy about it.”
They all freeze, and in the deafening silence that follows, he is almost certain that the ghoul’s face possesses the smallest hint of smugness.
Apostle. A fucking Apostle. He must have heard wrong, and he breaks the silence to clarify his doubts.
“Did you say Apostle?” He asks.
"ApostleS," the ghoul emphasises, “the Apostle of Magic in the Oceanian Republic, and the Apostle of Nature in Oriental Federation.”
Fuck.
Apostles. He capitalizes the letter ‘S’ in his mind. Fucking ApostleS.
He is reluctant to do so, but he has no choice now. Just because he is prepared for his death, does not mean he will go seeking it so brazenly.
“Leave,” he dismisses the ghoul, “Go and make preparations for three of us to enter Hope City. The rest will join after they have found a Keystone.”
“Yes, General Astaroth.” And he turns to leave.
He narrows his eyes.
“Wait.” Falvius stops him before he closes the door. “What is your name, and how did you offend Lord Beelzebub?” It is a personal question no doubt, but the man will answer because he must.
“I was once Lord Forneus.” And he raises his eyebrows in surprise. He’s heard of that name, it was an almost extinct noble family that had only one person. But he is certain that person was female, and that she died in Exodus. “And Lord Beelzebub has me paying for my sin of trying to hide my daughter during his enlistment act to recruit warriors to invade Eden.”
And then he leaves, slamming the door shut. The room descends into silence again and Falvius is too stunned to call out the Acolyte’s blatant act of disrespect.
***
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
It is minutes later, before the atmosphere between the seven of them returns normal enough for them to pursue the banter that they enjoy so much.
Corith Phenex, his devil friend, starts first, using his hand to comb his brown hair out of his eyes while levelling an accusing glare at him.
“This is all your fault, Falvius. Why did you have to get your ass promoted to General? We had a goddamned plan.”
His fault? He didn’t ask for any fucking piece of this shit.
“How is it my fucking fault? I didn’t –”
“– It is entirely your fault.” But Zerithea cuts him off, and he sends a glare to the Wraith, who ignores it in favor of pushing the blame to him. “You just had to show everyone how much of a prodigy at fighting you are, didn’t you? Just had to be born with the most potent magic in recent Demon history, didn’t you? Just had to be born on the first day of the year, didn’t you?” She jabs a finger into his chest. “Even Eve didn’t get promoted to General, and she’s the first fucking Serpent in centuries to put a scratch on her father!”
He points to said Serpent, who is glaring at them, but the chocolate stains over her hands and mouth from the cake she is eating with her bare hands greatly reduces the threat level.
“That’s because she’s not seventeen! She turned sixteen the day before I turned seventeen! And that’s the only reason she’s not General Leviathan yet.”
“Hey, watch it!” the black-haired girl wipes the stains off, before continuing, proudly thumping her chest with her fist. “By the time I’m seventeen, I’ll be Queen Leviathan.”
Arturia scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please, there’s no way you’ll defeat your father in one year.” And she opts to play with her red hair instead of taking on Eve’s glaring challenge. “I’m willing to bet the Gremory House’s entire wine collection on it.”
Falvius feels a need to step in, before their verbal spar turns physical and they destroy the ghoul’s fortress by accident. He does not want to feel sorry for the man even more.
Speaking of ghouls, his eyes lands on his own ghoul friend, Samus Amon, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet since ex-lord Forneus left. He worries if the man’s story has struck a personal chord.
His worries are unfounded, however, when Samus points an accusing finger at him.
“Enough.”
They stare at the shortest but second oldest of the seven.
“You are missing the point.”
Exactly, and Falvius smiles. It seems that the gravity of fighting a war has finally sunken in for the second oldest amongst them, and he is glad that there is another person matching in maturity to him that will be leading the army with him.
“This is all Falvius’ fault. And he must be punished.”
And his hopes sink like brick just like that, and the others start nodding at his proclamation.
They are children, he reminds himself. Maturity is not an endpoint, but a process, and the children before him have only just begun to embark on their journeys.
He must guide them to the path of enlightenment.
“C’mon guys,” he tries to placate their growing anger. “Look, I know I messed up the old plan, but it wasn’t that great anyway.”
They begin to glower at him, and he can feel their anger for insulting their ideas.
He chuckles nervously. “I mean, seriously? Keep training for five hundred years and become strong enough to take over as the next seven Nihile Lords. Doesn’t that sound a little… I don’t know… vague or idealistic to you?” they look at each other for a moment, and then grudgingly nod at him.
Inside, he heaves a sigh of relief, and then continues. “This war, if we survive it, we will no doubt come out stronger than before, and the people will respect us. We will use this world as a testing ground for our leadership and our abilities, and we will know what we lack when we return back to Pandora. And afterwards, we will train. We will eliminate any weaknesses that we have, and then, we will begin our march to the Pandora Palaces."
He gestures towards their surroundings. The battle plans drawn up, their weapons resting on the wall, but ready to be used at a moment's to notice.
"Can’t you guys see? This war, it’s not a curse. It’s an opportunity. We will have the foundation to build our future power on, and we can use it to overthrow the seven Lords. My grandfather, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belphegor, Mammon, Leviathan. Beelzebub. And then all our dreams can come true.” As he speaks, he tries to convince himself, and it surprisingly works, and the speech sounds so much more charismatic.
He can see they are still doubtful, so he has no choice but to appeal to them individually.
“Eve, you can finally surpass your father, become history’s first Dragon Queen.” And at that thought, the girl’s eyes twinkle in longing, and he moves over to the next target.
“Corith, you can have all the women you want. Imagine it,” and the Devil reaches out to his invisible dreams. “All those women throwing themselves at the future leader of devils. Isn’t that better than Heaven?”
The Devil has crossed the point of no return - perverse giggles start coming out of his mouth - and Falvius quickly backs away.
“Arturia, you can finally win the heart of Zelderoth. Think of how highly your crush will think of you when you return home, one more victory under your belt than him?” And the Succubus girl starts blushing at the attention her imaginary lover is giving her.
He sits next to Zerithea and puts one arm around her shoulder, the other reaching out in front of the two them, and she is curious to know what forbidden fruit he will offer her. “Imagine it, Zerithea, an army of chefs serving you: Pandora’s greatest food critic. Your tongue will be treated to a palette of flavours like no other. Meat, wines, deserts, and, no vegetables.” She is sold, and Falvius uses his handkerchief to wipe away the dribble of the Wraith’s saliva that has landed on his pants.
He prowls over Jorjei, whose glazed Goblin eyes show he is already dreaming of his paradise. He only needs a small push. Falvius takes out a few gold coins from his pocket, and starts stacking them in front of him. “Think of the spoils, Jorjei, the mountains of gold, silver, diamonds and other gems all piled in front of you.” And for good measure, he leaves the gold coins in front of the Goblin, who basks in their shiny metallic glory.
“And you Samus… your treasure lies in the midst of the battles, not after it.” He leads the Ghoul to the world map. “See this?” And Samus nods doubtfully. “One whole world’s worth of warriors for you to fight. Think about how you can test yourself. How strong you will emerge from each win, your body covered with your opponents’ blood. Think about the number of challengers that will find you in the battlefield, and how you will kill each and every single one of them.” Samus is exuding bloodlust, and he knows he has him ensnared. “You can fight and kill anyone you want here.” And he walks away, leaving the ghoul to start planning his battles in front of the world map.
He smiles, children are so easy to manipulate.
He sits back down, and he spies a human form of entertainment, a Holovision display, sitting at a corner of the room. For what little they are worth, humans are geniuses when it comes to entertainment, and the Pandora blackmarket is filled with their entertainment goods.
He recognizes the current programme; it is a retro superhero movie, one he does not particularly enjoy because the shield-throwing main character is so morally upright it is annoying.
He wants to change the channel, and he immediately finds a problem.
And the silence is broken.
“ALRIGHT, WHO THE FUCK TOOK MY FUCKING REMOTE.”
And with that crass sentence, the dreams of lust, wrath, greed, gluttony and desire are shattered and the room descends once more into chaos.
***
Outside the room, his ear still pressed against the wall, Lord Forneus shudders. He recognizes what the child has done, for he has used the technique Seduce numerous times himself. For a child so young to be able to embed magic into his words to tempt others…
The Satanspawn is truly terrifying.
And then he leaves, he has a few phone calls to make, after all.
He smiles. The time for his redemption has finally begun. He will help these children the best he can, even if they are collection of psychos, assholes and manipulative bastards. Because he will get his revenge, and Beelzebub will die.
Beelzebub.
He doesn’t even notice that he has fallen prey for the same technique he was once so proud of.
And in the room behind, Falvius Astaroth smiles as he ducks to avoid a chair sailing over his head.
He fucking loves Seduce.
A/N: I didn't really have time to proofread this alot, so tell me if there are any mistakes. thanks.