Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Chapter 323: Zelvak - Treaty or War

Taking a sip of tea Arsene did not respond, nor did Freya. However, the silence was apparent; any type of forgiveness was but a wishful dream.

" I'd rather a horrid death than be your whore!" Nerthus venomously howled, gripping her blade tighter, readying her stance. Greyson smiled.

"Arsene, is there really something as true death?" He asked, surprising me. I could feel prince Bael's bloodline within this one, but it was faint.

"Her death will only further my will. Either way, her fate is sealed," said my king lowering his empty cup, sending a measured gaze towards the Vanirs, "But I did not summon you here for them. They are the nobodies. Zelvak, if you would? I believe our guess has waited long enough."

Hanging a smile upon my lips, I nodded, "but of course." I uttered with a deep bow. Pulling at the ripples of space, a profound Holy energy untouched by creation soon began to radiate out. Something that would normally sear a demon or devil, but my lord remained unfaced.

Lowering my head, Arsene beckoned with his fingers as the two bloody heads within my palms began to hover towards him. Scornful of their appearance, he turned towards the skies only for a second before the crimson skies had turned dark, and the echoes of thunder responded. The very winds began to twist and pull like a storm, clawing at our bodies as holy rays of light pierced through the skies.

"What, what is this?" Nerthus fearfully asked.

Scrunching his brow Arsene, spoke, "Freya, I believe you have things to do. Take fifteen gods, slaughter those you need to, but remember their souls belong to me."

Vanishing from sight, Ullr and Nerthus fleed with the scent of dread pouring from their backs. Warmly smiling, Freya nodded like a child, "of course, I thank you, Lord Snow, and I look forward to repaying your efforts." she said, placing her hands upon her ashen brother. "Shall we go? There is much to be done."

"Why did she need you, my lord?" I could not help but ask, "She was more than powerful enough to kill her father and control the Vanirs. Why deal with you?"

"Vengence comes and goes," he replied, his gaze not leaving the skies that were bleeding tears. "But that only holds true for those who do not belong to the Hells. I promised her true torment, something that could break a god till they will wish themselves a hollow shell."

Narrowing my eyes, I bowed, returning to my place behind my lord, when sounds of tearful wails began to echo from the heavens.

"What is this?" Salazar bitterly asked, touching his chest. "Why do I feel sad?"

"Ignore it," Said Grey growing colder by the second, reminding me of a genuine devil, "it's probably a soul-based attack."

"No, it's just their emotions are growing out of control, but I am truly growing impatient. Zelvak, if they do not appear, send a few demons to piss upon the heads of these angels before sending them to the nines. I am sure at least one of their bodies will have a wild time."

"RAAAAAA!!!!"

Booming in a thunderous roar, a being covered in holy power began to rise from the skies bringing about the Judgement of the Heavens.

Noticing the five angels, I sneered, "Raduriel, Maon, Razul, Craoman, Saol."

"You seem to know much about them," Arsene lightly said, "Did Asmodeus, have you memorized every name?"

Bowing to reply, I spoke," But of course not my lord, but I do know the names of everyone. It's a trait you too shall develop due to our bloodline. Names hold power, and meaning, be warry who has it."

"Zelvak! The Ancient reaper, you appear once more!" Maon thundered, pointing his flaming sword towards me, and then to my master, "And you! Ready yourself to be cut down!"

"And here I thought you angels would be more... focus, enlightened, even, but here you stand consumed by wrath." Arsene scuffed, in response, turning to Elsa, who poured for him another cup of tea. Taking a whiff of what seemed to be a coconut mixture, Arsene sighed.

(A/N: What I'm drinking now!)

"I wish to speak to Yeshamiel, the Arch-Angel who battled against Bael during the beginning of the war of demons and Devils." He said, shocking everyone listening.

"Master, what are—"

"Be silent, Zelvak." Lord Snow commanded, forcing me to comply.

Unable to understand the Ashen King's intentions, Maon turned to his brethren and then to myself. Understanding his confusion, I, too, shook my head.

Taking a sip, Arsene lowered his cup, glancing at everyone, before Grey took over, "it's quite simple, I hear there is a Prince upon this land or was I mistaken?"

"Prince Sitri," Raduiel uttered, with fiery wings, "But what does that have to do with anything?"

Not bothering to conform with Arsene, Grey smiled, "I think it's pretty simple, don't you know? We want him dead. How would you like to form a treaty?"

This man... Where the hell did he come from?

"Blasphemy!! We are here to kill the hybrid! We cannot—"

"So a hybrid is more important than a Prince of Hell?" Grey elegantly asked, stroking his chin, "Are the angels truly going to miss this opportunity?"

"Who are you?" Maon grimly asked.

"Who he is, is of zero relevance. The question is, how much do you angels wish to kill a prince of hell? And risk nothing in the process?"

"Remember your training!" Raduriel desperately shouted, yet, those by his side were clearly hesitant. " Do not be fooled by the devil's words; they are adept in temptation! we have been giving—"

"I am sure you know Einar has been taken." Said Arsene taking a sip, "He, along with Asmodeus's daughter, have been taken. The Nines will not respond in this attack."

"We need time to report this," Maon hastily said, only for Arsene to wave his finger like a ticking clock.

"No, this is the only time I will speak of this. After this, we will be at war, and I promise you. The War of Demons and Devils will seem like a cheap story when I am done with you all." Arsene forcefully said, narrowing his dark eyes. "Or does your heavens, the biggest losers of the last war, believe they can win without me?"

"Big talk boy," An ethereal voice I had not heard since eons ago echoed. Pressing my palm upon Arsene, the Young Lord sent me a glace that froze my heart. Releasing him in a hurry, he gestured his hand towards the voice.

"Have a seat, Yeshamiel. would you like a cup of tea?"