Second Seat Queen of Lust Asmodea, EC0947.
“Out.” The voice that echoed around the room was devoid of emotion and laced with venom. Its cold indifference would cause any mortal to shrivel up in death at the mere sound. For the listener, however, this was a nigh everyday occurrence.
“Oh come on Asma, don’t be like that. Aren’t we old friends?” The one who spoke was a short man with greasy brown hair wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Far out of place compared to the surroundings that resembled a tropical garden.
“And how many times have I told you not to call me that? What are you even doing here?”
The man shrugged, “That’s the problem with you sex demons, nothing between the ears but lewd thoughts.”
His taunt had the desired reaction, as Asmodea snapped at him, “Damnit! Lust isn’t just sex you fucking penny pincher!”
Mammon, for that’s who the man was, ignored the indignant outburst and continued, “One of my family told me something interesting and I thought that I’d come investigate is all, no pun intended.”
“…If I entertain this, will you take your slimy otaku hair somewhere else?” Asmodea gazed wearily at her colleague, who merely shrugged.
“Probably.”
“Ugh! Fine! What do you want? We both know I will not sleep with you.”
Mammon grinned, “Always sex with you lot, why is that the default…? I just want a sample of the new dish your chefs came up with.”
“…That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Asmodea’s shoulders slumped, “Fine. But if you actually make it, be sure the chef knows what they’re doing. Forneus, fetch him a copy.”
A rather attractive man dressed as a butler stepped out of the shadows and bowed in the European style before turning and departing.
“You know, if you didn’t employ exclusively succubi and incubi, you might be able to get rid of that stereotype you hate so much.”
“Shut it. You don’t understand at all.”
Mammon shrugged, “I do, I just don’t care; you want to be surrounded by the most beautiful people, eat the best food, and hear the best music. If it isn’t top class then you wouldn’t lust after it. Me? I’m just happy if they’re unique.” The way he pronounced that last word caused Asmodea to shudder, she had been persuaded to visit the Palace of Greed, Vergas only once and sworn never to revisit. Both in reality and in memory.
Sitri should be almost done with preparations on the central continent, so she would soon be able to get away from her annoying little brother. Though, big brother Beelzebub was already in the human’s territories so she’d not be able to escape from her family for long.
“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Mammon’s question disturbed the silence, hanging in the air. When she did not answer he took it as a sign to continue, “Four of us, including brother Beel, are already over there. Your slut is just about ready to call you, and I’ve got my lawyers working on a contract to let me come over. Bossman has never let so many of us out to play at once.”
When he puts it like that, it is strange. Sitri told me a bit about Satan’s pet champion. Her and his son, two reincarnations in one cycle… Something big is happening.
Of course, admitting that her little brother was right was impossible, “You’re imagining things. When you do make it over, stay the fuck away from me. Go collect more figures or whatever it is you do. Creep.”
Mammon shrugged nonchalantly and said no more, content to merely wait for Forneus to return with the recipe his sister had so graciously provided. Upon receiving it, he flashed her a peace sign and disappeared in a swirling cloud of black smoke.
Peace at last.
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“Forneus, how are things?”
The butler so addressed bowed, “Things in the lower hells proceed as they should, are you ready for your departure?”
“Yes. I am quite looking forward to it.” It would after all, provide a break from the tedium of existence in the Garden of Lust, Aeden. Categorically immortal, Demons were cursed with an existence gripped by desire. Only by crossing to the mortal world could some relief be granted, as donning a shell body allowed them some degree of resistance.
Within the hells, there was a constant drive to fulfill one’s desires. At least, that was how it was for the three siblings of vice. Other demons, of less tangible sin had things slightly easier but it was a small difference. Asmodea moved slowly through the room, pausing to inhale the scent of the flowers as she passed them by. Each was a specimen selected from the best possible source then further refined and selectively bred until they were as perfect as possible.
Exiting through a gap in the foliage she walked down a marbled path towards a small pavilion. Sitri should be contacted soon, and this was the location she would need to be in when the spell activated. Perhaps a normal ruler might be worried about leaving their holdings alone, but Amodea was far from normal. The Hell of Lust would be fine without her; for better or worse, the denizen’s vice ensured that they would be unified in their pursuits.
Even now, the voices of a dozen nymphs rang out in a chorus as they cavorted about the garden just out of sight. Each of these had spent millennia pursuing the art of song, attempting to become the very best. Handsome warriors trained and competed, visible briefly through gaps in trees along the pathway. Their camaraderie and unified formations were a work of art in their own right, and Asmodea could not help but pause to admire their glistening bodies in motion.
It's times like this, when I consider that Mephi might have a point, Lust really is a Prideful sin in our own right… but at least we put in the effort for our pursuits.
Coming up to her destination, she reached out and caressed the stonework. This intricately carved gateway had been a gift from a mortal. The best craftsmen of the dwarves seven cycles ago, offered as a bribe to spare his village the horrors of the war. The man had labored for seven days without rest and in the end, collapsed at her feet. Still, the work had been perfect, devoid of any flaw. As thanks she had her followers throw a party, and the dwarves had not been allowed to feel pain or regret when they were exterminated.
Even now, the craftsman’s body stood as a feature in her garden, visible from where she stood. Despite the many imperfections, the skill which he had acquired and demonstrated earned him her love and adoration.
I wonder, if there will be anyone as interesting this cycle? It has been a while since I had a chance to poke around…
The pavilion began to glow then, the signal that Sitri was making the connection, “Well then Forneus, I leave things in your care.”
The butler said nothing, merely bowing. There was a flash of pink smoke, and Asmodea vanished from his sight. Her own vision changed, revealing a ghastly and surreal sight. It was a cellar of some sort, the main feature being the pile of three nude men, each of them identical in appearance. Their blood was flowing out and forming into a pattern of intricate symbols on the ground. She was standing in the center of that pattern, and there was a nude girl kneeling at the edge.
“Sitri. Get dressed.” Dealing with succubi was always a headache, and if she could then Asmodea preferred literally any other type of demon. But of all her followers, succubi had the easiest time manifesting themselves and persisting in the mortal world.
At least she’s obedient.
“As you wish.” Sitri stood and moved aside to where a heap of clothes was haphazardly piled. Like all demons of Asmodea’s family, her features were perfect and would have normally compelled Asmodea to stare lasciviously. But this was the mortal world now, and the individual in question took great pleasure in the ability to resist that urge and look elsewhere.
A moment later Sitri returned, “What is your command, mother?”
I wish she wouldn’t call me that, even if it is technically true in the demonic sense.
For whatever reason, nearly all of the Original Sins refused to use any other name for her, and she had long since given up attempting to change that, “Continue working with Satan for now. Once things kick off, come and join me on Rhodias. I’ll be playing with the Raja this cycle.”
Sitri grimaced at that order, but she wasn’t going to refuse even were she capable, “As you wish… Be careful mother, there’s something about the champions this time… it’s different somehow.”
“Do not concern yourself with me, now be gone.” With a quick curtsy, Sitri departed up the stairs and out of the cellar.
Funny, Mammon said much the same thing. I think I’ll set some things in motion to test that girl in the event that Satan’s plans somehow fall through…
Glancing over at the three corpses, Asmodea grinned, “Wakey-wakey...”
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