Chapter 811: Nephilim

Damn it—Damn it—Damn it—Damn it—Damn it.

Why did he! Ahh~

I clenched my fist and listened to Layla's report, "That's everything I've heard."

"And this soldier Remmi? Manage to use my Tarnished Darkness to mask himself from Soloman, aka Zantar? How is that possible?"

"I tested her myself, my king. Focusing all my will in front of her, I barely managed to find a trace of her aura. But that required already knowing she was there and using powerful Sensory Circles."

Passing my hands through my hair, a lone sigh raced over my lips as my mind fell into a spiraling web of thoughts. Baphomet was dead.

Jesus. That was an ally that will take forever to replace, if he even can be replaced.

"Layla, I'm opening a portal to me," I said, watching as a stunning duchess stepped through the void of shadows, appearing before me with a somewhat cross expression.

"What's the meaning of this?"

"I need you to be a Shadowfell," I answered as the tattoos around my skin began to grow. Filled with a dark demonic light, I could see the fear ripple through her delicate eyes. " Sorry, but I'm not asking."

Piercing my fingers forward at speeds I'm sure she could dodge, Layla simply closed her eyes, awaiting what was to come.

"Do not resist,' I said, as my fingers tapped the tip of her brow; the duchess's slender figure went limp, falling right into my arms; I couldn't even enjoy her warm figure as I felt Seraphina rush into my room.

"Is it true?"

"No time for that; I need two things from you. One is your blood. Second, I need you to begin converting angels to your side.

"And maybe I should fall on your cock as well. Are you mad? I'm not giving you my—"

"Then I'll slaughter every angel I see till I achieve my goal." I calmly said, ready to paint the lands of this world red.

Once Azeroth here's of this, that man is about to go mad. He knew Baphomet better than anyone. When he learns of this suicide, I think I'll finally see the day a devil falls into madness and becomes a demon. It was a rare occurrence, as most Devils are usually calm and calculated; it takes a lot for them to run mad like a demon.

"You don't mean that," Sera said, and I sneered.

"Woman, I've been tormented for more than half a cycle; if you think I don't want to eat and kill people, then you must be high as fuck. Events are escalating, and I need to be prepared. Has Einar been teaching you his version of the Law of Concordance?"

"He has," Seraphina bitterly answered, bowing her head, a look of shame visible. "It made me ashamed. Very ashamed."

"So ashamed, you want to give me a quickie?" I teased, and she lifted her head with a questioning gaze.

"Whats a quickie?"

I leaned in, inches from her face, "It's when a woman uses her superpower to make a man pop in a few minutes or seconds."

"My superpower?"

"Hmm," I said, finding a smile, only for it to fade, " Never mind, we've got bigger shit to worry about than that fine oh so sweet, angelic booty of yours."

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'ARSENE!!!! You damn pervert!"

"Yeah-Yeah, call me all the names. But I'll need your blood, a small vial from the heart." I said as I was going to use this blood to not only add into my bloodline in hopes it doesn't contaminate me or—"

"You won't be an angel, you know. At most, you'll be what is known as a Nephilim." Sera said, taking a step back, crossing her arms. "They are what the Devils would call a rival post-Great Change."

A Nephilim? Interesting.

"That's fine by me; just gimme some blood," I said yet again, smiling at the annoyed expression on my favorite angel's face.

"Keep talking like that, and I'll join Lilith to kick your ass."

I smirked in laughter, ' You know what they say about the spoils of war. If I win, which I am going to win, you'll be at my mercy, little Seraphina. Warming my bed will be your—"

Leaping back as I felt the hairs on my neck rise, Seraphina simply glared with her glowing eyes, " Watch it, Arsene."

"Fine, fine, but I do need your blood,"

Seraphina nodded, placing her hands over the center of her chest, and closed her eyes. Seconds skimmed by as I watched a small sliver of blood stretch out from her chest. Swirling around her finger, she looked up at me.

"Maybe with his blood, you might renounce your evil ways." She conveyed, in a hopeful tone, that made me want to smite away such thoughts.

"Tell that to Lucifer and all the Fallen following him."

Sera paused, but with a bit of Astral Force surging within me, the blood around Sera's fingers came my way. Piercing into my heart, where it belonged. I nodded, " Good,"

"You? Just like that?"

"I'll be fine, now." I casually remarked, waving off her bewilderment, "You know what to do, right?"

Bobbing her adorable head that carried a slew of paleness, sera turned to leave; sending me one final glance, she vanished.

"Are you ready?" Zax softly inquired, " The Throne of Bael awaits you."

"I know," I answered, glancing down at Layla resting peacefully as webs of darkness slowly began to spread across her milky skin.

Bael, the King of the Eighth Layer of Hell, while Mephisto isn't there. Once I sit upon that Throne, all the divinity that is harbored in the Eight layers of Hell within this Forth Heaven will be mine.

Closing my eyes, I opened them and gazed at the Throne of Bael inside the ring. Approaching the Throne that carried a dark glow, I could feel a few eyes upon me, watching my actions.

When I had learned that Bael worked directly under Mephisto, I knew a deep plot had been going on, but that didn't matter. As it stands, the knowledge and wisdom collected by Solomon and Bael were now mine to wield. And so to will the divinity held by the Nine hells.

Stepping up to the Throne of Bael, my blood began to heat up, and my cheeks began to burn. Feeling the blood of Sera take effect, I slid my gaze to Zax and sat upon the Throne.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM~

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