Chapter 252: Hello, Little Mortals
RAVIAL
The middle of the night wrapped the villa in a thick, humid silence, broken only by the distant crash of waves against the shore.
I stood shirtless on the wide balcony, low-slung black pants hanging low on my hips, a cigarette burning slowly between my fingers. Smoke curled lazily into the star-filled sky as I stared out over the dark ocean.
Lucius’s report still echoed in my mind.
Asmodeus had dared to approach him. The other Princes were whispering rebellion. They saw my love for Leitana and the child growing inside her as a crack in my power. A weakness to be exploited.
And then there were the humans.
The Watchers of the Veil, those pathetic, self-righteous idiots, had sent a small team to Vanuatu. They actually believed they could slip in, kidnap my wife, and kill my unborn son to “save the world from the Antichrist.”
I took a slow drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing bright red in the darkness.
A chuckle rumbled through my chest.
How fucking adorable.
They thought they could take what was mine.
They thought they could challenge the Devil on his own territory and win.
Even without being omnipotent or omnipresent, my reach stretched across this world like invisible black threads. Demons whispered in shadows. My influence moved through bloodlines, deals, and fear. I already knew exactly where their little strike team was hiding, three ex-military zealots and that ex-FBI agent Marcus Reed, scurrying around a cheap safehouse in Port Vila like frightened mice.
I welcomed their attempt.
It had been far too long since I had truly relished in the destruction of humans.
I flicked the cigarette over the balcony railing, watching the tiny spark disappear into the night.
My lips curved into a slow, cruel, almost euphoric smile.
Come then, little mortals.
Bring your crosses, your prayers and your delusions of saving my wife from me.
I will enjoy breaking every single one of you.
Slowly.
Painfully.
Creatively.
I turned and walked back into the bedroom, where Leitana slept peacefully, curled on her side with one hand resting protectively over her belly. I stood over her for a long moment, drinking in the sight of her, soft, glowing, and carrying my child.
My star.
My only light in an eternity of darkness.
I leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to her forehead, lingering there, breathing her in.
“Sleep, my love,” I whispered against her skin. “I will handle the monsters tonight.”
I straightened, power flickering around me like living shadows.
The night was young.
And I was in the mood for carnage.
I glanced back one last time at Leitana’s sleeping form, peaceful and unaware, the sight of her grounded me for a single heartbeat then I let the darkness rise.
With a single thought, I summoned them.
Lucius appeared first, stepping out of swirling black smoke with a deep, respectful bow. Three more of my most trusted demons materialized behind him, ancient generals who had burned cities and toppled kingdoms at my command for millennia. They all knelt instantly.
“My lord,” Lucius said, voice steady.
“Rise.”
They stood as one, eyes glowing with dark anticipation.
Lucius continued without needing to be asked. “The Watchers’ strike team is holed up in a safehouse on the edge of Port Vila. Six mortals and they’re armed with silver bullets, holy water, and ritual blades. They plan to strike at dawn.”
I smiled, genuinely delighted.
“Perfect.”
I turned away from the bedroom, stepping onto the balcony. The warm Vanuatu breeze did nothing to cool the hunger rising in my veins.
“We go to them now,” I said. “I want them alive when the fun begins. I want them to look into my eyes and understand exactly who they tried to take from me.”
Lucius bowed again. “As you wish, my lord.”
The other demons grinned with feral excitement.
In a vortex of shadow and hellfire, we vanished from the villa.
Watchers’ Safehouse – Outskirts of Port Vila
The small, rundown house was quiet under the cover of night.
Inside, Marcus Reed checked the magazine in his rifle one final time. The other five members of the strike team whispered fervent prayers, clutching crucifixes and vials of holy water. Their faces were painted with a mix of righteous zeal and barely concealed fear.
“Remember,” Marcus said quietly, voice steady. “We take the girl alive. The child must not be born. If we can end the Devil tonight… we save millions of souls from Armageddon.”
The others nodded, gripping their weapons tighter.
None of them noticed the temperature in the room suddenly dropping.
None of them noticed the shadows in the corners stretching unnaturally long.
Or even noticed the faint, amused chuckle that echoed from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Until it was too late.
The lights flickered.
Then went out completely.
A deep, ancient voice filled the darkness, calm, almost bored, yet dripping with pure malice.
“Hello, little mortals.”
The screaming started a second later.