Chapter 618: Belial’s Arrest

Amid the chaos, Sol remained seated in his private pavilion, sipping his wine as though nothing of consequence had happened. The battle had torn through the Dark Pavilion, leaving shattered tables, broken pillars, and scattered debris across the open-roof dining area. Smoke drifted between the buildings, while frightened customers and servants hurried away from the destruction. Yet the Prince of Pride showed no intention of moving from his seat.

Leo stood beside him, his attention fixed on Belial, who had reached the edge of the damaged building. The Prince of Envy stared toward the salon Damian had crashed into, his expression growing increasingly troubled.

After a moment, Belial glanced back at Sol, apparently weighing his options, before turning his attention to the salon again. Leo followed the exchange with his eyes, then looked at his master.

"Are you not going to help him?"

Sol shook his head and raised his cup. "Why should I? He’s the one who demanded I should keep my distance and our partnership a secret, he’s on his own."

He brought the wine to his lips but paused before drinking. His gaze shifted toward the surrounding buildings, where the windows and balconies had become crowded with spectators. Some were ordinary citizens, others belonged to noble households, and a few carried the unmistakable auras of powerful demons. They were not merely watching the fight out of curiosity. Several had been waiting for an opportunity to see the Prince of Pride make a move.

"By the way, there are several eyes on me waiting to see me make a move. They are looking for a justification to attack me. That’s why they have allowed this fight to go on this long."

Leo chuckled and nodded. "So they would rather watch two Princes tear apart the capital if it means getting the chance to kill you."

"Precisely." Sol finally took a sip of wine. "The moment I interfere, every fool who has been waiting for an opportunity will suddenly remember that maintaining order is their sacred duty."

His expression remained unchanged, but there was a faint trace of amusement in his eyes. The Imperial Capital was not a place where power could be exercised without consequence. The restrictions imposed on the Princes were severe, and the authorities had every reason to enforce them whenever a convenient target presented itself. Sol had no intention of giving his enemies what they wanted.

Belial, meanwhile, had already dismissed the doubt from his mind. He knew Sol would not intervene, and even if the Prince of Pride changed his mind, involving himself in the fight would only make matters worse. The entire Imperial Capital might turn against him if Sol gave them a reason to act.

His attention remained on the ruined salon. He had seen Damian take the full force of his Samsara flames, and the image of his opponent disappearing beneath that attack had given him a brief moment of satisfaction.

However, the silence that followed was beginning to irritate him. He wanted confirmation that the bastard was dead or, at the very least, wounded badly enough that he could finish the job.

He did not have to wait much longer.

Inside the salon, Elsa knelt amid overturned chairs, shattered mirrors, and fragments of plaster.

"Damian!"

Elsa gripped his shoulders and shook him with both hands. His body lay motionless beneath her, his clothes scorched in several places, and the sight of him failing to respond sent panic through her chest.

"Please wake up!"

She shook him again, harder this time, struggling to keep her voice steady. She had watched the white flames strike him directly.

"Damian, please!"

His eyelids finally moved. Damian slowly opened his eyes, revealing a tired expression rather than the pain or weakness Elsa had expected. He blinked at her, then glanced at the broken ceiling above them before returning his attention to her face.

"I’m not even allowed to rest in peace?"

Elsa froze. Relief flooded through her so suddenly that tears gathered in her eyes before she could stop them. She let out a shaky breath and struck his chest with her palm, careful enough not to hurt him but angry enough to make her feelings clear.

"Don’t scare me like that."

Damian chuckled at her reaction and sat up almost mechanically. He rubbed his aching head, brushing away a few pieces of plaster that had settled in his hair. His movements were stiff, but there was no sign of the fatal injury she had feared. The scorched skin around his shoulders was already recovering, and the remaining smoke rising from his body gradually faded.

"Relax, it will take a lot more than my Samara flames to harm me."

Elsa nodded, though the tears in her eyes had yet to disappear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself against him, burying her face in his shoulder. Damian allowed her to hold him for a few seconds before rising to his feet with her still clinging to him. He carried her casually against his body, as if the destruction around them were nothing more than an inconvenience, and began walking toward the hole through which they had crashed.

Inside his soul, the Abyss stirred.

’You are lucky you absorbed the excess Samara flames at the moment of impact or you would have been seriously hurt.’

Damian stepped over a broken chair, keeping one arm beneath Elsa while the other supported her back.

’If there weren’t too many eyes on me, I would have killed him already.’

A low chuckle echoed through the darkness of his consciousness.

’With the anti-domain array, you can’t even cast your fox domain to hide my Realm Zero. If you could do that, murdering this punk would have been fairly easy.’

Damian sighed and scratched the side of his head. The Imperial Capital’s defensive formations were more troublesome than he had anticipated. The restrictions did not render a Prince powerless, but they made certain abilities far more difficult to use.

He reached the edge of the hole and stepped through the broken wall, carrying Elsa into the open air. The surrounding buildings were still crowded with onlookers, and the Imperial Capital’s police force had begun moving through the streets. Damian ignored them for the moment. His attention settled on Belial, who was staring directly at him.

The Prince of Envy’s expression changed as Damian emerged unscathed. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened beneath his dark scales. Damian, on the other hand, smiled. Emerald light burned within Belial’s eyes, while crimson radiance spread through Damian’s own.

"Don’t tell me you expected me to get hurt by a trash copy of my Samara fire?" Damian chuckled.

Belial snarled, his expression twisting with rage. He opened his mouth to answer, but before a single word could leave his lips, a sword covered in divine runes slid into his path and stopped against his throat.

The sudden intervention forced Belial to halt. He turned his head and found a demon in a black-and-red uniform standing beside him, the blade held steadily against his neck. The officer possessed a mostly humanoid body, but sharp feathers framed his face, his eyes were those of a hawk, and a curved beak replaced the tip of his nose. His grip on the sword remained firm despite the demonic pressure radiating from the Prince before him.

Several more officers stood behind him, their weapons drawn. When Belial glanced toward the surrounding streets, he discovered that the police had already sealed off the area. Officers in matching uniforms occupied the rooftops, balconies, and nearby intersections, preventing civilians from approaching the damaged buildings. Every one of them belonged to the Mink Clan.

The officer pressed the blade closer to Belial’s throat.

"I’m Captain Hawk of the Imperial Capital Police Force. We received reports of a Prince attacking customers of the Dark Pavilion, and we have been sent here to apprehend you."

Belial’s expression darkened. He glanced at Damian, then returned his attention to Captain Hawk.

"The Queen of Gildreach attacked me first!"

Captain Hawk did not lower his weapon. Instead, his eyes grew colder as he examined the Prince of Envy.

"According to the staff and witnesses, the Prince of Velmora and the Queen of Gildreach were both customers of this establishment. You took the initiative to approach and attack them. Now, are you going to come with us, or should we use force?"

Belial’s claws curled into fists. The humiliation of being threatened by an ordinary officer was bad enough, but the fact that the man dared to speak to him as though he were a common criminal made his anger almost unbearable.

"Threatening me?! Do you know who I am?!"

A voice answered before Captain Hawk could respond.

"We know who you are. That’s why I went through the trouble of coming here myself to make this arrest possible."

The officers immediately parted as Duke Paimon entered the courtyard, a pleasant smile resting on his tiger-like face. His brown-striped robes had been replaced by formal black garments with red accents, and several more officers followed behind him. Despite the destruction around them and the presence of two Princes, he carried himself with the composure of a man arriving to settle an ordinary dispute.

Belial’s anger faltered.

Duke Paimon was not merely another noble. The patriarch of the Mink Clan commanded the respect of a powerful blood race that had remained neutral for thirty thousand years.

Paimon moved past Belial and approached the edge of the ruined building, glancing where Damian stood with Elsa in his arms. He bowed respectfully.

"My prince, I ran over here as soon as I heard of your plight. I hope I’m not too late?"

Damian laughed softly.

"Far too early. I was hoping I’d get the chance to take a third inheritance for myself."

Paimon’s smile faltered for an instant. Surprise flickered across his face before he recovered and offered an apologetic expression.

"Unfortunately, sire, we cannot allow that to happen within our walls. I will delay my response next time to give you the chance you need."

The exchange left the surrounding spectators speechless. Paimon had not merely intervened on Damian’s behalf; he had openly addressed him with the respect reserved for a master, while discussing the possibility of allowing him to kill another Prince as though it were a matter of scheduling.

Belial stared at them in disbelief. Across the courtyard, Sol had also stopped drinking. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, his earlier amusement giving way to genuine interest. He had known Damian possessed connections, but he had not expected the Prince of Lust to establish such a firm alliance with Paimon in so little time.

The Mink Clan had remained neutral through wars that reshaped the Underworld. They had declined invitations from powerful Princes, resisted pressure from the Council, and maintained their independence even when doing so would have been dangerous. Yet Paimon had come personally to protect Damian’s interests, and the police force under his influence was treating Belial as a criminal rather than a Prince.

Belial’s expression twisted with outrage.

"How is this fair? You are already corrupted!"

He barely finished speaking before a faint shimmer appeared beside him. For an instant, nothing seemed to occupy the space, but the outline of a figure gradually emerged from the air. The demon possessed chameleon-like features, his skin shifting through muted shades as he stepped forward. In his hands rested a steel collar attached to a chain and a pair of heavy handcuffs. Divine runes covered every surface, glowing with a pale light that clashed with the demonic energy surrounding Belial.

Before the Prince could react, the collar snapped around his neck.

Belial hissed in pain as the divine aura invaded his body. He immediately pushed demonic force toward the collar, attempting to suppress the foreign energy, but the runes flared brighter and drove the pressure deeper. His movements stiffened as the device interfered with his ability to circulate power.

"You can’t treat a Prince like this! The police force is corrupted!" He screamed furiously like an injured beast.

Captain Hawk stepped back only after the collar had locked into place. Two officers seized Belial’s arms and secured the handcuffs, while others moved in to surround him. The chameleon-like officer tightened the chain attached to the collar, making it clear that any attempt to resist would only worsen the pressure on his body.

Belial struggled against their grip, but the officers did not retreat. Their movements were practiced, and the divine restraints had clearly been designed for targets far more dangerous than ordinary criminals. Within moments, the Prince of Envy found himself being escorted away by a group of officers who appeared entirely unconcerned by his furious protests.

"This is an outrage! I will take this matter before the Council! You will all pay for this!"

No one answered him. Captain Hawk simply ordered his subordinates to continue the arrest, and the officers dragged Belial toward the waiting transport.

Duke Paimon bowed once more to Damian before turning to follow the police. His departure was as composed as his arrival, leaving behind a courtyard full of stunned demons and a Prince whose plans had collapsed in front of the entire capital.

Damian watched the officers disappear into the streets before shifting Elsa more comfortably in his arms. She remained pressed against him, her hands still clasped behind his neck. He gave her a brief glance, then looked toward the damaged salon.

"Well, that was convenient."

His casual remark did little to ease the tension among the spectators. They had just witnessed one Prince publicly threaten another, only for the Imperial Capital Police Force to intervene under the authority of a Duke who had spent thirty thousand years refusing to align himself with anyone. Whatever Damian had done to earn Paimon’s loyalty, it was clearly more substantial than a passing agreement.

Sol set his cup down. His expression had grown serious, and the implications of what he had witnessed were already taking shape in his mind.

Leo frowned as Belial was taken out of sight.

"If he is allied with someone like Paimon, then he’s allied with Astaroth. This kid is an enemy of humanity."

Sol did not respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on Damian, who was already walking away from the destruction with Elsa in his arms, looking far too relaxed for someone who had just fought another Prince and nearly been burned alive.

After a moment, Sol nodded slowly, his frown deepening.

The Council had barely begun, yet Damian was already becoming a problem that could no longer be dismissed as a reckless Prince with unusual abilities. He was gathering power, building alliances, and forcing the other Princes to reconsider the balance they had taken for granted. And if he could secure the loyalty of clans that had remained neutral for thirty thousand years, then the true extent of his ambitions might be far more dangerous than any of them had imagined.