Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

“If I knew you’d have signed the contract just to be petty, I would have gone about this another way,” Buer remarked with an indescribable look plastered over his face.

Challenging the fearsome expression painted over Zariels face with a smile, embers flickered through the hall we resided as he vanished, storming away in a blaze of heat. Laughter sprang from my lips. “He really is still a child. It’s been too long.”

“If you say so.” Zero chimed in, his voice low yet strong.”I’ll send a dossier on what to get started on later today. Best of Luck.” He vanished, leaving only the smiling Mephisto and the solemn Buer twisted with hints of frustration.

“You truly are my disciple. I’ll be seeing you again. Real soon. Oh, and do accept the Black Hand. There is no time for… emotions such as this.” Mephisto said sternly, dissipating from my field of view, leaving behind Buer, whose lion-like features of this Fallen deepened.

“My Master, Lord Belphigor, will also be in touch,” He added solely, snorting stream from his nostrils. “I hope for both our sakes you accept his call.”

“You… Serve Belphigor? Aren’t you two brothers?”

“Lord Belphigor to you.” He spat stoically. “You think it was only Lucifer who fell with his Fallen? Each of us chose a side. Lucifer might have led the charge, but our loyalty didn’t just lie with him.”

Lips pressed tightly together. I gave the Fallen a nod, who began again. ” You have a lot of work ahead of you. Irkalla is a layer of pain and suffering. This is the layer purgatory ends, and Hell begins.”

A/N: Add Pic

“So I’ve heard.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. It will burn Arsene. The things you will see will burn your soul. So is the punishment of those who govern the Nines. Steel your heart and mind. And a word of warning. Decide your President quickly. They are the ones which allow your kingdom to run smoothly.”

Teleporting away, leaving me alone. No more than ten minutes later, after deep consideration, a quiver raced through the Hells, alerting me. My eyes grew focused as I stared at an empty spot within the dining hall. Seconds later, images one after the other appeared.

“Oh! You got him!’

“ARSENE!” Yormen ferally howled, his lips dripping with saliva as he glared with a leash around his neck.

“Ilthad,” I casually mentioned, lifting my gaze toward Paimon, the one who seemed to have caught him. And who seemed to have regenerated quite a bit.

“If it isn’t Lucifer’s little bitch. Paimon. The bastard who also tried to kill me. Seem you got lucky.” I remarked in an almost teasing manner that didn’t match the killing intent in my heart. I sneered. “Leave us. That goes for the rest of you.”

The Eight Former Kings of Hell dashed away, leaving me with Yornen pinned to his knees, staining the carpet with his blood.

“I guess a treaty between the two of us isn’t going to happen,” I said knowingly; flicking my finger, I released a sliver of spear intent that severed his lease. I offered him a table.

The look of fury on Yornens face only seemed to deepen, but through sheer will, I could feel a few meters away, the Ilthad shakily rose to his feet and took a seat. His eyes focused on me. His expression was still marred by anger.

“I am the new Lord of the Second Layer of Hell within the Origin Realm, and any Hell, both Higher and Lower, that share the name Hell.” I started, allowing Yornen to grasp the reality of his situation. “Right now. Many different Heavens are fusing with Iluthath, ensuring mass Chaos and death.”

“And?”

“And I need your help. We are not enemies. At least not anymore.” I said, unable to resist the urge to smile. “The moment I gained Irkalla, you lost. It wasn’t a fair fight. We both know that. But when one scheme, it’s never a fair fight.”

He nodded.

“I was told I needed a President within the Nine Hells.”

“You’d torment me like that?” He spat with a look of disbelief. “We might not be enemies, but to be subjected to the images and torment the hells bring is—.”

“You will take the job.” I coldly told him. “But you will also have another job. You will lead the Court of Nox. Mimir, if you’ll appear.”

Sensing my blood abruptly begin to jump with joy within my flesh. As my Loyal Knight heeded my call, a door of Noctem appeared at once, as a dark-haired young man appeared. His eyes were a sparkling red, and his lips arched in a devilish smile.

“This is my Second Knight, Mimir.”

“I know. Everyone knows about Mimir. The butcher of Chaos.”

“Oh?”

‘Got it from all the killings in the Bed of Chaos,” Mimir explained with a coldness I didn’t quite expect from him. Seems like my bloodline has changed him a little.

“Why not make him your President,” Yornen shouted, if not pleaded.

“I could. But… you are an Ilthad. You are literally born with a mind for structure.”

“Arsene… please. Do not subject me to Hell.’ He pleaded, bowing his head. ” I will happily govern the Court of Nox, but Hell is not for me.”

“If I may, my Lord.” Mimir started. “Why don’t I become the President, but you give this man a title instead to permanently tie him to the Hells? After all, Asmodeus could control all demons and devils with his title alone, and he wasn’t even a true King. But he had the authority of one. I’m sure Yornen doesn’t want to become a slave. And an Ilthad like you can’t be slave through force. Your souls are far too powerful and intricate. Am I correct?”

My lips rose, watching Yornen nod.

“Then problem solve, we tie him to the Hells. He’ll not be a slave. But his movement and activity will forever be monitored by you, my lord. He will even have a legion to help strengthen the Court of Nox.”

Fingers tapping against the table, I stared at the man in question. “It’s a solid plan. And honestly, your only way of survival, my friend.”

“Will I be free to come and go from the Nine Hells?”

“What? Are you trying to negotiate with me?”

“Yes,” Yornen said rigidly.

I smiled. “The balls on this one. I’ll allow it should you agree. But you have to report all activity to Mimir.”

“I have terms.” He added.

“And I reject them all. This isn’t a democracy. You either do as I say, or I kill you. Simple as that. You’ve got ten seconds to decide.”

Teeth grinding against one another, Yornen’s lips buckled as he glared. His aura withering under the reality of his situation,” My people… I’ll not attack them. ”

“Seven Seconds.”

“Arsene!”

“Six Seconds”

“Five”

“Four”

“Three”

“Two—” 𝘦𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝑙.

“OK! FUCK, I agree!”