Hell’s Consort

Newest Chapter for Highest Tier (October 2021)

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Vampire King Apollyon

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The sky was thick with dark clouds, but ever since the hurricane had shifted direction, the sliver of sunlight had passed through the cracks.

As he flew with Queen Morgan's Cadre, Apollyon heard panicked screams from below, which compelled him to glance down at the Autumn Faeries trapped inside the city buildings. Every winged creature had headed towards the exit in a hurry, causing a stampede. 

The rest of the Fae who were trapped in there had struggled since they were consumed by too much fear, fighting hard to escape from the rubble of the destroyed establishments. 

Tiny mushroom-shaped houses on the villages were wrecked, half-missing, and the walls and the roof had collapsed.

Lovely autumn trees had been uprooted and laid on their side, and their roots were in the open air.

He did not doubt that the Autumn Fairfolk were good with magic, but it appeared like the cracked streets and roads wouldn't be repaired anytime soon.

The healthy and edible crops Apollyon saw with his wife on their way to the Autumn Palace had flattened, and the Faerie Orchards were destroyed.

He heard Sylvain and Jora curse under their breath when they passed by the acreage, muttering to themselves that the Mabon Festival—celebrating the Harvest Moon at the start of the Autumn Equinox-- might as well be cancelled.

The Fall Square, the Autumn Courts' centre of trade and commerce, was flooded with stunned people.

  Children cried and screamed while their mothers comforted them that everything would be alright—that everything would get back to normal—not knowing the possibility that today might be the end of the world. 

The Apocalypse was predicted by Princess Orania as Hecate's Oracle, and the Fates and the Furies had begun.

Apollyon was used to creatures—strangers—die in front of him, and most of them had perished with their blood on their hands, but he couldn't even care less.

In the past, Apollyon had no remorse whether he had killed an innocent because he was the Vampire King. 

For him, that was enough of a reason.

No one would dare to stop him except the gods and goddesses.

He refused to believe that these divine beings existed, anyway, since they refused to show themselves to him as if they had some kind of a moral high ground over a Vampire King.

They let him do what he wanted.

He could declare himself as a god if he wanted.

The Blood Beast even helped him establish this identity. 

Apollyon and Ravin, in their shared physical vessel, made them the false god in the Vampire Realm,  devouring black souls who they deemed as unworthy. 

Criminals. 

Most significantly, he relished the experience of slaughtering creatures he perceived as soulless and evil in his reign.

He was the judge who controlled the women's lives in the Consortium and offered them as gifts to their guests, treating them like objects. 

No one had batted an eye until he realized that the Goddess Hecate had spoken to him through his wife--the High Priestess who saved him from the curse.

Of course, he had shed out from that god-awful skin of being a misogynistic tyrant after meeting his beloved Empress.

But other than that, something was different about him now.

Why was he feeling like this?

The war between the demons and the Faeries hadn't started yet, but it looked like a war zone.

The Autumn Courts smelled like hellfire mixed with the rotten stench of sulfur and blood.

Streets had been torn in the middle, and it opened up the earth to swallow unfortunate Faeries and other things.

The heart-rending sight made him clutch at his chest when it shouldn't have been.

Why did it feel like someone had stabbed him with a knife and twisted it in his gut?

His cold stare quickly turned into a deep scowl as unbridled anger heated his skin and made his blood boil.

Apollyon's vindictive hatred wasn't aimed at the Autumn Faeries.

No.

Not them.

His fingers clenched into fists in frustration. 

He was riled up by the appearance of Luxen's Legion in the Material Realm.

Isn't it too early for these fiends to be here?

Maybe, the Archdemon of Lust couldn't wait to claim his beloved with his filthy hands.

Three days and three nights had come and gone in the thick mountain forests, and Lilith had taken over his beloved's body to escape from Apollyon.

At that moment, his initial thought of Lilith's departure was that she was afraid of what Apollyon might do once he got his hands on her, but Lilith did it for the sole purpose of summoning Luxen.

When Apollyon, Xerxes and Princess Sapphire encountered Luna and Luxen fighting toe-to-toe with all the evil spirits they summoned at the top of that cliff, the Archdemon of Lust had the nerve to evade their flaming orbs,  stole his beloved's necklace and disappear.

At first, he wondered what made the Archdemon steal Apollyon's wedding gift.

It turned out that the devil had used them so that his Legion could easily track their whereabouts. 

  Wasn't it too early?

  Couldn't Luxen wait for them to settle in the Autumn Palace and give them more time to look for the Tree of the Four Seasons? 

  Nostrils flaring, Apollyon swore to himself that he would never allow the bastard to come close to his wife again.

That horrifying notion flamed his outrage, giving him the motivation to beat his fiery orange wings faster than his companions.

Apollyon had preceded Sylvain and Jora, and both of them had taken this as a challenge—a race--, and now, the three of them soared at the speed of light.

Apollyon matched the pace of the youngest member of the Cadre, Jora.

He could have surpassed the irritating blond Fae who wore that perpetual smirk that Apollyon longed to knock off his chiselled face.

The only thing that stopped him was that Apollyon didn't know where Queen Morgan had placed the Chariot of the Sun for safekeeping.