Chapter 622: Totem Beasts

The silence that settled over the council chamber spoke volumes about the situation facing both Heaven and the Underworld. The crimson hologram continued hovering above the central platform, its monstrous subject staring down at the assembled Princes with its enormous, round eyes. Nobody seemed particularly eager to break the silence, not even those who had spent the previous session mocking the idea of negotiating with Heaven.

Even Sol wore a heavy frown.

The Prince of Pride sat back in his golden seat, his fingers resting against the armrest as he examined the creature. His usual expression of indifference had vanished, replaced by a rare seriousness that Damian found more interesting than the image itself.

Sol was not someone who easily acknowledged the strength of others, much less a threat capable of making him reconsider his priorities. Yet he had not dismissed the creature as insignificant, nor had he made another remark about the Underworld’s supposed weakness.

That alone spoke volumes.

"So you have no information on this thing?" Sol was surprisingly the first to speak, his voice carrying across the chamber.

Astaroth shook his head. He stood beneath the hologram with his hands folded behind his back, his expression composed despite the grim subject of their discussion. "Unfortunately, this is the first and only time this creature has appeared. As I said before, Ibaraki only caught sight of its face after he had been defeated. All the other victims we know of never got this close to a Totem Master. They were killed by Totem beasts before they could gather any meaningful information."

The answer did little to ease the tension.

Damian leaned back in his seat, one arm resting against the golden armrest. "So what are these Totem beasts capable of?"

Astaroth nodded, apparently expecting the question. The hologram above him flickered, and the image of the Totem Master dissolved into crimson particles. Several new figures appeared in its place, each displaying a different monstrous form.

The first resembled a lion, though the comparison became less reassuring the longer Damian examined it. Its body was considerably larger than that of an ordinary lion, reinforced with overlapping scales that covered its chest, shoulders, and flanks. A pair of enormous bat-like wings extended from its back, their dark membranes stretched between thick, clawed digits. A curved rhinoceros horn protruded from its forehead, while its paws ended in talons capable of tearing through heavy armour. Even in a motionless projection, the creature possessed an unmistakable sense of lethality.

The next image was considerably worse.

It resembled an insect that had undergone a grotesque transformation, its body enlarged far beyond any natural proportions. Its segmented limbs were thick and heavily armoured, while its head possessed several pairs of mandibles arranged around a dark central opening. Additional eyes covered the sides of its skull, each one reflecting the crimson light of the hologram. Its abdomen was swollen with dense plates, and several sharp protrusions extended from its back like the blades of a siege weapon.

A low murmur spread through the chamber.

Some of the nobles behind the Princes leaned away from the projection, while others exchanged uneasy glances. Even among demons, whose existence encompassed countless grotesque and terrifying races, the insect’s appearance provoked genuine disgust. Its body seemed designed to combine the worst qualities of several predators, with none of the weaknesses that would normally limit such a creature.

Astaroth continued speaking.

"Totem beasts are unique creatures of various species. They are larger, sturdier, and far more dangerous than their ordinary counterparts. However, three factors make them particularly terrifying. First, Totem beasts possess unique abilities. Second, they evolve. Finally, they seem unusually resistant to spells of both demonic and divine nature."

The last sentence changed the atmosphere more than anything else he had said.

Several Princes exchanged confused glances. Behind them, the demon nobles began murmuring amongst themselves, their voices growing louder as the implications became apparent.

Demonic spells were not merely tools used by ordinary soldiers. They were among the fundamental weapons of the Underworld, and divine spells served a similar purpose for Heaven.

A creature that resisted both kinds of magic was an entirely different problem.

Damian’s expression grew thoughtful. He had already learned that Totems possessed divinity, which explained why their injuries were so difficult to heal from. Now he was learning that they could evolve and possessed innate abilities, while their resistance to magic reduced the effectiveness of one of the Underworld’s most important advantages. The combination was troublesome enough, but the unknown Totem Masters made the situation worse.

There was no telling how much more dangerous these creatures could become under the command of their masters.

Sol, however, seemed to reach a very different conclusion.

He gave a dismissive laugh and leaned farther back in his seat. "That explains why your armies in the Dark Continent have been losing so badly to them. You guys are really wimps without your little spells."

The chamber fell silent again, though this time the silence was accompanied by several deeply unpleasant expressions.

Damian rolled his eyes.

Of course. Sol had found a way to turn a discussion about an unknown threat into an opportunity to insult everyone else. It was almost impressive how consistently the Prince of Pride managed to make himself unbearable, even when the situation demanded a degree of seriousness.

Damian suspected Sol had little appreciation for the importance of demonic spells in the first place. The Prince possessed an inheritance powerful enough to make most enemies question their decision to challenge him, and he had spent so much of his existence relying on his own strength that he probably considered everything else a crutch. To Sol, a warrior who needed spells to win was simply a warrior who had not become strong enough.

Unfortunately, the rest of the Underworld did not have the luxury of sharing his confidence.

Kazier released a loud breath through his nose. "This again."

Brolly nodded, his enormous head bobbing above his shoulders. "Pride is really annoying to interact with. These loud outbursts and declarations get old very fast."

Aien let out a tired sigh and stretched his arms across the back of his seat. "And he wonders why everyone hates him. He is really exhausting to be around."

Sol’s face twisted with anger.

His gaze swept across the chamber, lingering on each Prince who had spoken. For an instant, the pressure emanating from his body intensified. His expression made it clear that he would have preferred to settle the matter with his fists rather than tolerate another insult.

Yet none of the Princes met his gaze for long.

Kazier turned toward the hologram. Brolly busied himself with his wine, while Aien appeared to have lost interest in the entire exchange. Damian simply rested his cheek against one hand, refusing to grant Sol the satisfaction of a reaction.

Astaroth rolled his eyes before continuing.

"We have come to understand that there are Totems in the Dark Continent without masters. However, based on the information available to us, Totems with masters are at least twice as strong as those without them."

The announcement drew everyone’s attention back to the discussion.

Damian’s fingers stopped tapping against his armrest.

Twice as strong.

The distinction was significant. If an ordinary Totem was already capable of overwhelming demonic and divine soldiers, a mastered Totem could be substantially more dangerous. And if the Totem Masters possessed the ability to command several of these creatures at once, their presence could transform a dangerous battlefield into a slaughterhouse.

Belial leaned forward, his black eyes narrowing with interest. "If those so-called Totem Masters can tame those Totems, then we should be able to do the same!"

Damian slowly turned his head toward him.

"Damn, bitch, you can’t have everything for yourself. You don’t see them whining about not having inheritances and demonic spells."

Aien burst into laughter.

The Prince of Sloth threw his head back, his previously tired expression disappearing beneath a wide grin. Brolly followed a few seconds later, his laughter rumbling through the chamber as he slapped his belly. Even a few nobles behind them struggled to suppress their amusement.

Belial’s face darkened.

He glared at Damian, his fingers tightening around the armrests of his seat. The black snake around his neck lifted its head, hissing at the Prince of Lust, but Belial made no attempt to interrupt the meeting again. After yesterday’s arrest, he had already learned that losing his temper in the Imperial Capital could be more costly than satisfying his desire for revenge.

Damian smiled at him anyway.

Astaroth struck the central podium with his staff, producing a sharp crack that silenced the laughter.

"As I was saying, Totems are effectively immune to regular soldiers. They can only be threatened by artillery weapons. Unfortunately, their numbers vastly exceed the artillery weapons available to our forces, making it increasingly difficult to keep the hordes under control."

The hologram changed again.

This time, it displayed a battlefield in the Dark Continent. The terrain was littered with the remains of shattered fortifications, overturned siege engines, and broken weapons. Dark silhouettes moved through clouds of dust and smoke, their numbers stretching far beyond the visible horizon. Demonic soldiers attempted to form defensive lines, but the advancing Totems crashed into their formations with terrifying force.

A second image appeared beside it, showing a group of artillery weapons firing volleys into a mass of approaching beasts. The explosions tore through the front ranks, reducing several creatures to mangled remains, but the gaps were quickly filled by others. Some Totems continued advancing despite their wounds, while others moved around the bombardment, using their speed and unusual bodies to close the distance.

The demons defending the position were forced to retreat.

The scene shifted once more, revealing the ruins of a mining colony. Its outer walls had collapsed, and the remains of a defensive tower lay scattered across the ground. A handful of survivors fled through the smoke while enormous silhouettes moved between the buildings behind them.

Nobody laughed this time.

The images offered a clear explanation for the losses Astaroth had mentioned. The Underworld’s soldiers could still kill Totems, particularly with specialised weapons and concentrated artillery fire, but killing them was not the same as containing them. Their numbers, durability, and resistance to magic made every engagement expensive, while their capacity to evolve meant that methods effective against one group might not remain effective against the next.

Astaroth turned toward Kazier.

"If nothing is done about this, we are bound to lose all our colonies in the Dark Continent."

Kazier frowned at the projection. He had spent much of the previous meeting insisting that the Underworld should continue its war against Heaven, but the prospect of losing the Dark Continent’s colonies was not something he could dismiss lightly. Those territories were more than military outposts. They provided access to resources, strategic positions, and opportunities for expansion that neither side wanted to surrender.

Losing them would strengthen Heaven’s position if the Underworld failed to secure the same resources elsewhere.

Astaroth looked across the chamber, allowing the images of the ruined colonies to fade before addressing the Princes directly.

"That brings us back to our initial deliberation. Should we continue our fight with the Heavens, or should we sue for peace and focus our attention on investigating the dangers lurking in the Dark Continent?"

Sol scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Sue for peace? Demons have fallen so low it’s pathetic."

Kazier nodded in agreement. "Our races have fought a war for thirty thousand years. It would be too shameful if our generation were the ones who became the first to sue for peace!"

Aien leaned back and rolled his eyes. "So we ignore the threat that has the potential to become much more dangerous than the Heavens have ever been?"

Brolly nodded firmly. "True... true..."

Damian glanced toward the Prince of Greed and frowned slightly. Lazarus had been dead for barely any time at all, yet the relationship between Greed and Sloth was already becoming apparent. Aien appeared to have a peculiar influence over Brolly, who readily agreed with his observations even when the other Princes remained divided. Whether it was genuine respect or simply a consequence of their personalities, Damian could not tell.

What mattered was that the argument was no longer about pride alone. The Underworld had to decide whether preserving its honour was worth risking its remaining foothold in the Dark Continent.

Damian leaned forward.

"And how sure are we that the Heavens will agree to a peace treaty? The Supreme Deity and his Ten Commandments outnumber us two to one. Why would they sue for peace when they have the numbers to fight us and exploit the resources of the Dark Continent? Even if they agree to it, how are we sure they will honour it?"

His questions drew murmurs from the nobles behind the Princes.

Several nodded in agreement, while others exchanged uneasy glances. Damian had voiced the concern that many had been reluctant to express. Asking Heaven for peace would expose the Underworld’s weakness at a time when its enemies were already aware of the losses it had suffered. Worse, it would give the Supreme Deity an opportunity to dictate the terms of any agreement.

There were plenty of reasons for Heaven to refuse. Even if the Supreme Deity accepted a temporary truce, he could use the time to strengthen his armies, secure the Dark Continent’s resources, and prepare for a decisive offensive against the Underworld. A treaty would mean little if one side had no intention of honouring it.

Damian continued before anyone could interrupt.

"Since the Heavens have taken losses in the Dark Continent and already have an advantage in the war, I’m certain they will double their efforts there. Instead of signalling our weakness to them, we should take advantage of this situation to launch a preemptive attack, strike their territories, and take them over. Before they can rally their forces to defend against our grand invasion of the mortal planes, we must have taken back the territories we lost to them and even more!"

His voice remained steady, but his words carried across the chamber with unmistakable confidence.

The proposal was dangerous, perhaps even reckless, but it possessed a clear strategic logic. If Heaven was forced to divert more forces toward the Dark Continent, its other territories might become vulnerable. A coordinated offensive could reclaim the lands the Underworld had lost over the past century, weaken Heaven’s influence among mortals, and secure additional territory before the Supreme Deity could respond.

The demons behind the Princes began murmuring more enthusiastically. Some nodded outright, while others appeared to be reconsidering their earlier support for a truce. Even Belial and Kazier, despite the deep frowns on their faces, slowly nodded in agreement.

They hated Damian. That much was obvious.

But they were not fools.

The Prince of Lust had killed Lazarus and acquired control over two realms. His methods were ruthless, his ambitions terrifying, and his mouth was an endless source of irritation. Yet he understood the realities of war, and his argument was difficult to dismiss simply because it came from someone they despised.

Damian had given them a third option: neither surrendering to Heaven nor blindly continuing the war as before, but using the enemy’s difficulties to seize the initiative.

Astaroth listened without interrupting. When Damian finished, the old Duke nodded slowly, acknowledging the weight of his argument.

"This is not something for us to decide today. Spend tomorrow thinking about it. A vote will be cast here on the fifth day. That is all for today."

The crimson arrays beneath the platform began to dim, and the holograms vanished one by one. The meeting had ended without a decision, but the chamber was far from peaceful. The Princes remained seated, each occupied with his own calculations, while the nobles behind them began debating the implications of Damian’s proposal.