Chapter 602: Seven Day Event

Damian sat with his eyes closed, his hands folded across his chest as the royal carriage rolled through the streets of Velmora.

Across from him, Lareth and William examined the black files they had brought along, occasionally exchanging quiet remarks as they reviewed the information concerning the upcoming council.

Elsa, however, had little interest in administrative reports. She sat beside the carriage window, gazing at the city illuminated by moonlight, her emerald eyes following the rows of buildings and the occasional group of pedestrians passing beneath the street lamps.

Unlike Gildreach Vault, where nearly every structure seemed designed to display its owner’s wealth, Velmora possessed an understated charm that grew more apparent the longer she looked.

"This city is simple, and strangely, that’s what makes it beautiful," Elsa muttered.

Nearly everything in Gildreach Vault had been built to impress. Towering buildings rose above the streets, their walls adorned with precious metals and elaborate carvings.

Even ordinary merchants competed to display their wealth through extravagant clothing and expensive jewellery, while the noble districts resembled exhibitions of excess.

In Velmora, the situation was entirely different. Although the capital possessed its share of grand buildings and magnificent estates, humble houses stood alongside them, and entire streets were occupied by families who appeared content with what they had.

The countryside was no different, with modest settlements surrounded by farmland and forests where people lived without constantly measuring their worth against the wealth of their neighbours.

What struck Elsa most was how naturally the people seemed to enjoy their lives. A family gathered around a small roadside stall, sharing food beneath the warm glow of a lantern.

A pair of elderly demons sat outside their home, talking while a younger relative prepared to close the shop beside them.

Further down the street, children chased one another between the houses as their parents called them home.

These were ordinary scenes, nothing that would have attracted attention in a less extraordinary world, yet Elsa found herself lingering over every detail. They reminded her of a time when her own life had been quieter, before Lazarus inherited Greed and began pursuing wealth and power with an obsession that eventually consumed everything else.

Before the inheritance took hold of him, Lazarus had been a different man. Their days had not revolved around accumulating treasures or conquering distant lands. They had found satisfaction in one another’s company, in simple meals, and in the knowledge that tomorrow would bring little more than another day together.

Those memories had gradually become painful as Lazarus’s hunger for more intensified, pushing him farther away from the man she had loved. By the time she finally understood how deeply Greed had changed him, their peaceful life had become a distant memory, buried beneath centuries of ambition and repeated failures.

Looking at Velmora brought those memories back with unexpected clarity. For a moment, Elsa felt as though she were standing at the edge of something she had lost long ago, something that wealth and power had never managed to replace. She lowered her gaze to the streets below, watching another family disappear through the doorway of a modest home, and wondered how many years she had spent chasing the wrong things simply because she had forgotten what happiness used to look like.

"Maybe we should plant more trees in Gildreach. Getting in touch with nature once again should be a good thing for us," Elsa said quietly.

Lareth looked up from his black file, his golden spectacles reflecting the light inside the carriage. He did not ask why his queen had suddenly become interested in landscaping. After serving the royal household for so long, he understood that even seemingly insignificant remarks could reveal a ruler’s priorities.

If Elsa wanted more trees planted throughout Gildreach Vault, he would ensure the project was organized properly, with suitable locations identified and the necessary resources allocated.

"Understood," he replied, opening his notebook and carefully recording the instruction.

Elsa nodded faintly before shifting her gaze toward Damian. He had not moved from his position, and his breathing remained slow and steady. He had been in this state of sleep since the journey began, leaving her uncertain whether he was resting, cultivating, or doing something entirely beyond her understanding.

Within Damian’s sea of consciousness, the golden world of Greed stretched beneath a perpetual afternoon sky. The enormous pyramid still dominated the landscape, its polished walls reflecting the sunlight, but the summit had changed since his previous visit.

The golden table remained laden with roasted meats, fruits, pastries, and countless varieties of alcohol, while two magnificent golden thrones now stood opposite each other. Intricate carvings covered their armrests, and the cushions were so soft that sitting upon them felt almost indulgent.

Damian occupied one throne while Lazarus sat in the other, both of them eating and drinking as though they had known each other for years rather than having tried to kill one another in a battle that had devastated an entire city.

"You don’t have to worry about your safety in the Imperial Demon Realm. It’s run by the Dukes of Hell, and they have a joint force of millions of soldiers roaming the city every moment of the day in search of chaos to quell. They possess the numbers, the most advanced artillery, and even the most skilled commanders on their side. I’m not exaggerating when I say they can kill Gods comfortably in there. None of your brothers will be stupid enough to make a move. Not even Sol," Lazarus assured him.

Damian silently cut a piece of steak from the plate before him and chewed thoughtfully, a small smile forming on his lips. He had not expected spending time away from reality to be so enjoyable.

"That’s good to know. With Astaroth and Duke Paimon on my side, I can be certain sufficient security will be provided to keep me safe," Damian replied, wiping his lips with a napkin before placing it beside his plate.

"Of course. Every prince is given a residence where their personal guards are garrisoned. I’m certain they will provide you with a residence near a military camp," Lazarus agreed with a nod. "The Imperial Demon Realm is not an ordinary city where the princes can settle their personal disputes by unleashing their armies. The Dukes of Hell have maintained that order for a very long time, and even the most arrogant princes understand that challenging their authority there would be foolish."

Damian picked up his goblet and drank the wine in one long swallow. He set it down with a satisfied sigh, then leaned back against his golden throne.

The prospect of entering a city where even the princes had to exercise restraint was reassuring, particularly given his current condition. He could not afford another prolonged battle while his soul remained damaged, and the thought of being surrounded by millions of soldiers capable of killing Gods was considerably more comforting than it should have been.

"Now, what’s the event going to be like?" Damian asked, returning his attention to Lazarus.

"Firstly, you need to understand what kind of meeting this will be. This is where the future direction of the Underworld is decided. Decisions will be taken through votes, and since you possess control over two realms, your vote counts as that of two princes," Lazarus began.

He reached for his goblet, took a small sip, and continued once Damian had settled into a more attentive posture. "The council is not simply a gathering where the princes sit around exchanging opinions. Matters concerning military deployments, territorial disputes, resource allocation, and threats to the Underworld are brought before them. Some decisions can affect every realm, while others concern only the princes directly involved. Whatever the subject, the outcome can determine whether the Underworld enters a period of cooperation or descends into another war."

Lazarus raised seven fingers, drawing Damian’s attention to the number. "It’s going to be a seven day event. Meetings will be held on the first, third, and fifth days. The one day gap between those meetings is called the negotiation window, when princes negotiate with one another based on the topics presented and try to unite their votes to achieve a desired outcome. As a prince worth two votes, be prepared to be approached by many who will try to sound reasonable or even attempt intimidation."

Damian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The arrangement was more complicated than he had initially imagined. Possessing two votes gave him considerable influence, but it also made him a target for every prince hoping to secure a favourable outcome. Those who agreed with him might seek his support, while those whose interests conflicted with his could attempt to pressure him into changing his position. Even a seemingly harmless vote could create grudges that endured for centuries, and given his ambition to eventually claim the remaining Sins, he could not afford to antagonize every prince before he had the strength to defeat them.

His current position was particularly troublesome because he had acquired Greed after killing Lazarus, altering the balance of power among the princes. Some would undoubtedly see his second vote as an opportunity to secure a powerful ally, while others might consider it a threat that needed to be contained before he grew stronger.

If he handled the negotiations poorly, the council could become the starting point of a conflict that would follow him back to Velmora. Damian had no intention of allowing political disagreements to become another reason for him to waste his remaining lifespan fighting.

"What about the final two days of the event?" Damian asked calmly.

Lazarus nodded, appearing pleased that Damian was considering the entire schedule rather than focusing solely on the formal meetings.

"The sixth day is known as the Day of Rest, when all the princes rest and roam the capital freely. You can use that opportunity to purchase high quality weapons, armour, or sealed artifacts if you want. Then the final day is the Imperial Auction, where priceless relics found across the universe are auctioned off. I’m pretty sure you are not prepared for it, but knowing Elsa, she must have stocked up enough Gold Tales for it."

Damian paused with his hand resting against his chin. The Imperial Auction sounded considerably more interesting than the formal proceedings, particularly if it offered access to relics that could strengthen his cultivation or help repair his damaged soul. However, the mention of Gold Tales reminded him of an embarrassing oversight. Despite ruling Velmora and acquiring the wealth of Gildreach Vault, he had barely paid attention to the practical details of conducting business. His resources had largely been handled by ministers and administrators, while his own attention remained fixed on survival, cultivation, and the acquisition of power. He had never even needed to learn the name of the currency used in ordinary transactions because he had always obtained what he required through his authority or the efforts of his subordinates.

"I really need to start paying attention to the small things," Damian sighed, shaking his head at himself.

"You will get the chance to do so once you reach the God realm and your life is no longer at risk," Lazarus replied firmly. He leaned back against his golden throne. "Until then, leave the small things to those who are good at handling them. You have more pressing matters to deal with than learning the price of every trinket sold in the Imperial Demon Realm."