Chapter 194: The Darkness of Reveal

Pazuzu’s POV

Pazuzu did not bother answering. He stepped close to Azriel, stopping just inches away, and rather than touching Seraphel at all, he raised both hands and held his palms on either side of Azriel’s temples, using the soul-bond between the two of them as a bridge to draw the memories forward.

He shut his eyes, lips parting around a string of low, gravelly words in the old forgotten tongue of the demon realm.

Then his eyes snapped open, burning with violet fire.

Every lantern in the council hall went black at once.

A suffocating darkness dropped from the ceiling like spilled ink, swallowing the walls, the floor, and the table until nothing remained but void.

Somewhere in that blackness, Uriel leaned back and yawned into the back of his hand. "Ah. The Darkness of Reveal. An old projection trick."

The moment his voice faded, the void tore open with a roar of sound and light.

The vision struck all of them at once, showing exactly what waited only a few days ahead.

The sky above Verolona hung ruined, torn apart by black lightning and fireballs raining down like a mountain coming to pieces.

They saw the emerald cavern with its roof caved in and crumbling to dust while the brothers stood bloodied and exhausted beneath an endless assault.

Then the sky split open.

Seven demon lords walked out through the rift, their power so heavy and suffocating that the brothers watching from the darkness felt their own chests tighten in real time.

’’That’s... her. Anabelle.’’ Lumiel muttered as he pointed towards the female among the lords. ’’The mortal was telling the truth.’’

Behind those seven slithered an enormous two-headed black serpent, its scales coiled protectively around a single figure.

The serpent shifted, and the figure stepped out into the open.

A collective gasp went around the invisible table.

Standing there in the sky was Kaevian, his dead eyes gone pitch black, a twisted grin stretched across his stolen face as Draca spoke through his mouth.

The fight that followed was brutal and fast.

They watched Azriel hurl himself into the air, summoning walls of thorned red vines and sharp diamond petals, wounding the enormous serpent.

Then Draca touched down on the earth and rained thousands of dark swords across the battlefield, every blade coated in black celestial poison.

The wet, tearing sound of steel opening flesh filled the darkened room.

Azriel dropped straight to his knees. His celestial blood and his demon blood went to war inside him as the poison burned through his veins.

Draca stood over him, laughing in his face, mocking him, promising to tear the child straight out of Seraphel and wear it as his next body.

Then came the part that broke everything.

Seraphel burst out from the safety of the rocks, screaming Azriel’s name as he sprinted straight into the crossfire.

Draca turned his head, his hand already sparking with a blinding bolt of divine lightning aimed at Seraphel’s chest.

Azriel screamed out in pain throwing his whole body over Seraphel and took the strike directly to the back of his head and neck.

The sound of breaking bone echoed horribly through the silence.

Azriel crumpled on top of Seraphel, blood pouring from his eyes, his nose, his mouth. His body jerked as the poison and the lightning tore through him together, until his eyes rolled back, lifeless and glassy.

The vision ended on Seraphel’s scream, echoing out into the dark.

Pazuzu drew his hands back, breaking the spell.

The blackness vanished between one breath and the next, and the warm glow of the lanterns flooded the room again.

Nobody said a word after that.

The silence sat thick and suffocating over all of them.

Lumiel stared down at his own hands, jaw locked tight. Taizel sat frozen, his cup forgotten entirely for the first time all evening. Uriel was no longer yawning, his eyes wide and sharp, fixed on the empty air where the vision had been.

Raizel sat stiff as a board, his fan clutched in his lap. Luceriel looked like a ghost, pale and wide-eyed with genuine horror as he looked toward Azriel, who was still holding Seraphel so tightly it was difficult to tell where one of them ended and the other began.

Seraphel cleared his throat and wiped the wet streaks from his face. "We need to plan this battle now," he said, voice shaking but firm. "It happens in a day and a few hours. We do not have time to sit here arguing."

Raizel cleared his throat nervously, fidgeting with the collar of his robes. The Sin of Greed looked around at the grim faces of his brothers before turning back to Seraphel. "What... what are we meant to do first?"

Seraphel did not hesitate. He looked straight at Luceriel, then shifted his gaze to Pazuzu. "First, the two of you have a wedding to plan."

"What?" Luceriel shot out of his chair. "Have you lost your mind entirely, Seraphel? The Demon King is coming to wipe every one of us off this earth, and you want me to marry this lunatic?"

"This lunatic happens to be the only reason you will not drop dead on that battlefield," Pazuzu cut in, his tone completely serious now as he walked back around to Luceriel’s side of the table.

Every trace of amusement had left his face. He looked dangerous, cold, and entirely in control.

"Look at yourself, Luceriel," Pazuzu said, his voice dropping low. "You are burning through your sight like a fool, bending timelines your broken core can no longer hold. That curse is eating your channels alive. The moment my father arrives with that kind of pressure behind him, your meridians will shatter before you manage to raise a single shield."

Luceriel opened his mouth to snap back, but Pazuzu stepped into his space, leaning down until their faces were inches apart.

"A mating bond between us is not about holding hands and falling in love," Pazuzu said quietly, steady as iron. "It is a soul contract. The instant our souls lock together, my demonic vitality floods directly into your core. It purges the celestial backlash, repairs your channels, and gives you enough strength to stop time without coughing black blood across the floor. You claim to love this kingdom. You claim you want to protect your people. Then swallow your pride, just this once. Marry me, mend your soul, and let us go kill my father together."

Luceriel stood frozen, his breath coming fast and shallow as he stared into Pazuzu’s unblinking violet eyes. He looked down at his own trembling hands, and he knew, without the slightest doubt, that every word out of the demon’s mouth was true.

"He is right, Luceriel," Seraphel said quietly, coming up beside Azriel. "If we actually plan this properly, we can turn the whole thing against Draca. We know he is inside Kaevian’s body. We know the seven lords come with him. We know exactly how he attacks. We can set the traps, take our positions, and finish this before they ever reach the ground."

From the end of the table, Sariel threw his arms in the air and let out a disgusted groan.

"Unbelievable," he spat, slumping back into his seat and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "This is absurd. First Azriel loses his mind over a mortal and puts a child of prophecy in him, and now Luceriel is getting married to an abyssal demon in the middle of a war council."

He shook his head, golden eyes burning with bitter jealousy. "Every single one of my brothers is falling over himself to be mated, bound, and married, making all of this infinitely more tedious for me. What an absolute circus."

"Then go and weep about it in the corner, little brother," Pazuzu said with a sharp grin. He turned his attention back to Luceriel and extended his open hand across the table between them. "Well, my love? Do we have an agreement?"