Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

Many things were racing through my mind as I stared at Samyaza staring back at me with a peculiar smile, "why not go to Lilith, not to talk down to myself? I figured her word has more weight to them than me."

"That may very well be true, but Arsene, a new age is coming. And the powers of an Avatar are far weaker than what you might expect. Lilith's potential might be unlimited, but her power, or her destructive might, will never reach you, nor will it match a peak angel. That is why Hell-Sama And Tenebrae are so weak in their physical Avatar. Shit, even Zariel manage to strong-arm Tene."

Tene? Well, that's one way of saying Tenebrae. I guess she is on good terms with the fallen. Wait! Hell-Sama? Really! I feel like I'm in some anime!

My eyes narrowed, and my arms grew crossed as I began to sense multiple individuals drawing closer.

"I'll give you two options if you successfully hand over what I ask: An Alliance on Arcadia or Seraphim Tier Spells that Mephisto never learned. My brother may dabble in every form of knowledge, but he failed as an angel."

"Failed?"

I could not believe that. Mephisto is a lord of illusion.

If he wished, Mephisto could be anything he wanted, or so he said. His understanding of illusion was so intricate that he had managed to enforce them on his psyche. It was insane how much potential Mephisto has that most people don't even realize.

It's not whether he learns these seraphim spells but why he didn't.

"I'll think about it,"

Samyaza smiled and looked over the horizon, "Seraphic spells are rare; if you keep using them, you may end up exposing yourself."

Teleporting away in a wisp of emerald light, the invisible weight on my heart vanished as I took a large breath of air.

"Mr. Blackwater!" Said a few guards as they charged towards me, studying the five bodies around me; I pointed towards the entrance, "Put their heads on spikes."

Tellian, the head guardsman's expression was a little pale as he removed the hoods of the assassins one by one, turning to me with a gashly expression.

"Do you know who they are?"

"I don't think it matters to the spike," I replied, not really caring who these people belong to. They're dead; who the hell cares. "Although if I were a guessing man, I'd say the second consort."

"Then you'll be right,"

"Wow, she's a dumb bitch. At least use some people others won't recognize. Whatever, put their heads on spikes, and spread the word the Second Consort attacked ILLB."

"Mr. Blackwater, that—"

"Is the correct thing to do," I finished, shadow stepping back to my home, turning in for the night.

…

…

…

Listening to the howls from the stadium tremble on the ground beneath my feet, I turned to Ezra as she lay on her bed with a moody expression. Curl up like a burrito with only her head showing; she wiggled in my direction with a pout.

"Is it that time again?"

"And here I thought you'll be looking forward to my treatments."

Cheeks reddening, Ezra lowered her misty eyes and shook her head, " I'm not."

"I'm a god who's mastering the Mortal Dao of Sin. I know your feelings better than you do, not to mention your devil's heart." I said, walking up to the burrito and finding a seat on the bed. "You do this every time, can't you just—"

"It makes me feel funny," She defended with a snap lifting her head to me.

I can't deny seeing Ezra like this is cute. She's usually all put together and cold. Although when I first met her, she was a temptress. I swore she was going to **** me back then.

Slowly peeling the comforter away, revealing Ezra in a tank top pressed tightly over her chest, leaving a gap around her abdomen and a black treaded panty, I could feel her blush.

She wasn't like this when she started. She was especially cold due to the close intimacy, but as the years passed and the treatments continued, her attitude began to slowly change.

Ezra's lips trembled, and her gaze seemed almost weak as I slid my fingers from the nape of her neck, down the center of her chest, to her stomach, and finally navel.

"We do this twice a week," I informed, and she nodded.

Sweat seemed to slip down her neck, soaking the tank top as she looked up at me, seemingly defenseless, just waiting. Her breath was loose and rushed. At the same time, her heart was hammering against her chest. At the same time, her skin felt like it was made of fire.

"Stop teasing me,"

"Well, last time, you uncovered a few suppressed memories of mommy and daddy shagging up right in front of you."

"Y-Y-You're taking that out of context," She stammered as she stood covered in sweat as my intent mixed with the dao of Devil's Heart began to trace over her devilish body.

"We've been through a lot these past hundred years, Ezra. Each day for the past two days a week for a hundred years, we would go through this entire ordeal of mending your devil's heart. I see everything you remember and feel; there is no need to feel embarrassed."

"My thoughts are mine alone; I don't like you in there," She said, and I couldn't help but smile for real, which was rare, as I hadn't felt genuine emotions for a while. I felt something only when I felt Ezra's passionate thoughts.

Her cheeks were turning even brighter as she bit her lips.

I feel like a psychiatrist. I must say I am respecting Hannibal more and more. To have such an intimate relationship with those he eats makes a world of difference. Should I eat Ezra?

My fingers traced up from the navel in a slow tantalizing way as Ezra just steered with a feeling I couldn't grasp. A weakness of mine in this state as I lack some understanding of the emotional responses.

Her breath quickened as my finger derailed off course near her breast, trapped by her tank-top. She squirmed but didn't say a word; even as my fingers circled the tip of her most sensitive area, she merely trembled, trying not to make a sound.

Battling with herself, to my amusement, Ezra muffled cries seemed to be the only sound in the room as I teased her sensual form.

"Shall we begin the exorcism?"

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