Chapter 623: A Costly Decision

Damian sat on the sofa beside the window, a cigar burning between his fingers as thin trails of smoke drifted toward the ceiling. The room was illuminated by several golden chandeliers, their warm light reflecting off the polished furniture and the dark marble floor.

Outside, the Imperial Capital had settled into the quiet of night, though the occasional movement of guards beneath the windows reminded him that the city never truly slept.

Elsa lay across the bed with her legs stretched beneath the covers, watching him intently. She had been observing him for several minutes, waiting for him to put aside the troubled expression he had worn since returning from the council.

"So do you think the princes will vote in your favour?" she finally asked.

Damian frowned and brought the cigar to his lips. He inhaled slowly before releasing a stream of smoke through his nose. "Honestly, I don’t know. Despite sensing that most of them agree with me, I can’t help but feel they may change their minds out of spite. It’s really hard to see through them."

He tapped the cigar against the ashtray, his expression growing more troubled. "Some of them would rather watch the Underworld burn than admit that another Prince had a better idea. Others might agree with me today and oppose me tomorrow simply because they don’t want me gaining more influence."

Elsa watched him rub his temple with a frown while ashing his cigar. She understood the difficulty of dealing with the other Princes, but Damian’s uncertainty surprised her. He had faced Lazarus, a True God whose accumulated wealth and power had made him one of the most dangerous beings in the Underworld, and emerged victorious. Yet a council vote seemed to trouble him in a way that even the threat of battle did not.

"But you have Paimon and Astaroth on your side," she reminded him. "As long as they win enough Dukes over to your side, you have nothing to fear."

Damian slowly nodded. Her words made sense. Duke Paimon commanded the loyalty of the Mink Clan, a powerful blood race that had remained neutral for thirty thousand years. Astaroth, meanwhile, possessed considerable influence among the Dukes and had already secured their support for the competition to become the next Demon Lord. With both of them backing his proposal, Damian had a strong foundation.

Still, he could not shake the feeling that something might go wrong.

He turned toward the window and stared at the night sky. The darkness beyond the glass seemed endless, dotted with distant lights from the Imperial Capital. He had believed that killing Lazarus would bring him some measure of peace. Greed had been one of his greatest obstacles, and its inheritance had given him the power to control two realms. He had expected to spend the following months consolidating his authority, gathering resources, and finding a cure for his damaged soul.

Instead, one problem had followed another.

The Council of Princes had forced him to confront the possibility of a war on two fronts. The Dark Continent threatened to swallow the Underworld’s colonies, while Heaven continued expanding its territory. His damaged soul was slowly consuming the limited time he had left, and the cure he needed might require venturing into the very place that had already begun killing Gods. On top of that, he still had five Princes to deal with, several of whom would gladly kill him before allowing him to become Demon Lord.

Damian took another drag from his cigar.

Perhaps he should have expected this. Every time he acquired something valuable, the world seemed determined to present him with another obstacle. Power had not simplified his life. It had merely made the consequences of failure more severe.

"What are your plans for your new admirer?" Elsa asked.

Damian slowly turned his head toward her, giving her a tired stare.

"Duke Paimon made it clear to me that he intended to marry her off to someone who could love her and only her before his appointment as the High Censor of Gildreach Vault. I will never take her in."

The decisiveness in his voice caught Elsa off guard. There was no hesitation, no hint that he might reconsider if Laura continued pursuing him. He had dismissed the possibility as though the matter had already been settled, and the irritation beneath his words suggested that the issue was more personal than she had initially assumed.

Elsa propped herself up on one elbow. She had not been present when Damian and Paimon discussed the matter, but she knew enough about both men to recognise that something had happened between them.

And Damian, for all his ruthlessness, had a particular dislike for people who went back on their word.

"But you know the Duke must have changed his mind. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have brought her here."

Damian took another drag and watched the glowing tip of his cigar brighten in the dim light. "I can tell that much, but his decision will not affect mine. Astaroth stood as a witness to his words that night, so he cannot go back on them."

Elsa blinked.

She had not expected Damian to bring Astaroth into the matter. TdtIf Paimon now intended to change his mind, he would have to explain why.

Damian, however, seemed to have no interest in hearing those explanations.

He had already made his decision, and Elsa suspected that even Paimon’s considerable influence would not persuade him to reverse it. Whatever had been said between the two men, Damian clearly felt that accepting Laura now would amount to rewarding the Duke for abandoning his own principles.

Elsa quietly sighed in relief and lowered herself onto the bed again. She stretched out fully, resting her head against the pillow as she stared at the chandeliers overhead.

Her greatest fear had never been Damian taking another woman. He already had seven concubines, and she had known from the beginning that becoming his wife meant sharing him with others. She had no illusions about changing the nature of his relationships or convincing him to abandon the women who had been with him long before she arrived.

What troubled her was the thought of Laura joining them.

The Mink Clan had been moved to Gildreach Vault following Paimon’s appointment as High Censor. If Damian took Laura as another wife or concubine, she would eventually accompany him to the Golden Palace, where Elsa would have to share his attention with yet another woman. Laura was young, attractive, and clearly infatuated with him. Worse, she seemed entirely unconcerned by the existence of other women in Damian’s life.

Elsa did not want to compete with her.

She could tolerate Damian having a thousand wives and concubines scattered across the Underworld, provided that when he came to Gildreach Vault, he belonged to her in every way that mattered.

It was not a particularly noble desire, but Elsa had never claimed to be free of selfishness.

Her gaze drifted toward Damian, who remained seated beside the window, lost in thought. She felt a faint warmth in her chest at the realisation that he had rejected Laura without needing her to ask. He had done so for his own reasons, of course, but the outcome suited her perfectly.

She decided not to question him any further.

Damian extinguished the cigar in the ashtray and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Let’s visit the Sins of Sloth and Gluttony tomorrow."

Elsa sat up abruptly.

She stared at him with a raised brow. "You plan to bribe them?"

Damian glanced at her. "Bribe is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as providing them with a reason to support a sensible proposal."

Elsa gave him an unimpressed look.

He smiled faintly. "Fine. Yes, I’m going to bribe them."

She shook her head, though the corners of her mouth lifted slightly. Damian settled back against the sofa and continued explaining his reasoning.

"One will spend the money funding his armies’ activities in the mortal planes, so he won’t have to get involved personally and can spend more time sleeping. The other will consider the money a means of acquiring more food." He paused briefly, thinking through the arrangement. "As long as the two of them agree, their Dukes will naturally follow suit. Neither of them has much reason to oppose a proposal that benefits them directly."

Elsa considered the plan.

Aien, the Sin of Sloth, had shown little enthusiasm for the council’s arguments beyond those concerning the Dark Continent. He preferred to remain uninvolved in matters that demanded too much effort, and his influence over Brolly meant that convincing him could effectively secure the support of Gluttony’s side as well. Brolly’s appetite was legendary, and a sufficiently large financial incentive would give him little reason to refuse.

It was a simple approach, but effective.

Damian continued, counting the advantages on his fingers. "I possess the votes of two realms, alongside the Dukes from those territories. I can also count on Sol, Paimon, and Astaroth to back me. With that, even if Kazier and Belial convince their Dukes to oppose us, they will be defeated soundly."

Elsa’s expression became more serious as she considered the numbers. Damian was not merely counting on personal friendships or vague promises of support. He had two realms under his control, the backing of influential Dukes, and a clear strategy for securing additional votes. If he could persuade Sloth and Gluttony to support him, the balance would shift decisively in his favour.

There was still the possibility that one of the other Princes might change his mind or that a Duke would refuse to follow his liege’s preference. Political alliances were rarely as simple as they appeared. Yet Damian had identified the most efficient way to reduce those uncertainties before the vote.

Elsa nodded slowly.

For a moment, she considered whether there might be a better approach, something that would allow Damian to secure the votes without exposing himself to unnecessary risks. But she could think of little to improve upon his proposal. Sloth and Gluttony were unlikely to be moved by grand speeches about the future of the Underworld. They would be far more receptive to something that addressed their immediate desires.

And Damian understood that better than most.

"Let’s do that," she said at last. "It’s better not to leave matters to fate when you can influence them yourself."

Damian’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. "Exactly."

He rose from the sofa and walked toward the bed, loosening the collar of his robe as he approached. The day’s frustration had not disappeared, but at least he had a plan. Tomorrow, he would secure the votes he needed, strengthen his position within the council, and leave fewer things to chance.