These were the rogues, the free devils who had thrived in the power vacuum of Gorael's neglectful rule.
Thanks to Kaelgor's aggressive recruitment, he had sent them scrambling.
Weaker devils were subjugated, while those with strength sought to escape.
Forced into a corner, they had done the only thing that made sense for survival: they formed a pack.
Three high-tier devils was a force to be reckoned, but they had no base. It was only when they saw the nexus that a plan of action had formed in their minds.
Such a treasure would be of great assistance for their growth, and much more in this time of need.
The serpentine one, clearly the spokesperson, took a step forward. Her voice was a like a smooth hiss that slithered through the barrier.
"Newborn, we see you've built yourself a… nest."
Adam was non-responsive, awaiting for her to state her true purpose.
Her coppery eyes flicked dismissively over the crude walls and bustling demons before going directly to the point, "Kaelgor's hunger grows. He seeks to chain us all to his foolish ambition. Alone, we are strong, together, we are a thorn in his side that he cannot ignore. Join us! Your power, combined with ours, will ensure our freedom."
The devil's words laced with subtle demonic charm as they flowed out of her lips.
Yet Adam only listened, his expression a mask of cold granite. His mind, however, was a whirlwind of scorn and calculation.
'Join them?'
Why would three devils, each stronger than him, seek an alliance with a mere newcomer?
The answer was as obvious as the obelisk piercing the hellish sky at his back.
It wasn't his power they wanted, it was his fortress; his nexus point.
They saw the shimmering barrier, the organized horde, the strategic position: a ready made stronghold.
They wanted to use him and his resources as a shield against Kaelgor, a base for their own rebellion; gifted by the hands of a novice devil, a mere weakling in their eyes.
Funnily enough, they probably didn't know that Kaelgor's mad recruitment was due to him…
A faint, derisive smirk touched Adam's lips, as they thought him a fool, a lucky newborn to be manipulated.
"Your offer is… noted," Adam's voice was low, devoid of warmth, "But my ambitions are my own. I have no interest in being a thorn. I only intend to be the sword!"
The three devils stared, their confident expressions faltering for a fraction of a second, replaced by confusion and then simmering anger.
They had expected desperation, gratitude, or perhaps negotiation born of fear.
They had not expected a flat, arrogant refusal from a devil they so clearly outclassed; unaware that the newborn was not at the low-tier, but has set a firm foothold into the middle-tier.
The bulky one growled, "You defy us? You defy Kaelgor alone? You will be crushed!"
"Then I will be crushed on my own terms," Adam replied, his tone final, his burning gaze leaving no room for argument.
He had already turned his attention inward, to the far more pressing matter.
The dimensional portal was half complete.
With Blair and Agri recovered, and his own power refined and more potent, they could work tirelessly.
Another day, two at most, and it would be ready.
That was true power, not a shaky coalition of desperate rogues, but a physical gateway to infinite realms; to the vengeance that fueled his very existence.
Without another word, he turned his back on them, a gesture of utter contempt that made the serpentine devil hiss in fury. He walked away, leaving the three would-be allies fuming on the other side of his barrier, their coalition already looking far weaker and more desperate than it had moments before.
A faux front that was tearing at the seams.
Their problems were not his.
Suddenly, Adam had taken only a few steps, when the serpentine devil's voice rang out again.
This time, it was different.
It was a low, throbbing purr that seemed to vibrate directly in his blood, making it churn faster, more unnaturally.
"A pity to part ways so soon, newborn," She cooed, and he could feel her smile without turning, "Perhaps we could... thank you for your time? A private discussion that has its... own benefits~"
Against his will, Adam's steps faltered.
His head turned slightly, his gaze taking her in. Except, this time she was no longer a threat, but now as a feast!
The subconscious observation was instantaneous.
She was taller than him, her form a perfection of lethal elegance. Her skin was the color of twilight smoke, smooth and seemingly soft to the touch. It clung to the dramatic swell of her hips and the narrow taper of her waist. Her breasts were high and proud, tipped with points of a darker, almost black shade that seemed to drink the hellish light; barely hiding the enticing nipples behind.
The serpentine quality was in the way she moved; a barely perceptible, hypnotic sway even while standing still.
Her claws, still dripping that faint, shadowy toxin, now looked less like weapons and more like exotic jewelry.
But it was her eyes that held him.
The liquid copper had ignited with a faint, pulsating pinkish-black gleam, a mesmerizing vortex of pure, untamed lust inducing magic.
The suggestion was blatant: a carnal act.
A way for her to get past his barrier, to get close, to exploit him with his defense down.
And it was working.
A jolt of raw, overwhelming desire slammed into Adam's gut like a hot tide.
His breath hitched, growing rapid and shallow. Then his blood surged south, his body responding with an instinctual reaction that bypassed his conscious thoughts.
A vivid, primal image flashed in his mind: pinning her against the cold obsidian wall, that smug look of hers dissolving into one of ecstatic submission, while her long legs wrapping around his waist~
The urge to wave his hand, to part the barrier just enough to let her in, was a physical ache. It was a need, a thirst, an insatiable desire.
But then, the recent refinement of his power, the control he forged in the dungeon and through his ascension, sparked like a cold spark in his mind.
The demonic energy within him, now so much more responsive to his will, surged in a different way; with icy discipline.
It formed a mental shield against her insidious magic, shattering the pinkish-black gleam's hold on his senses.
His boner didn't vanish, a throbbing testament to her power, but it was now a separate thing, a physiological reaction he observed with cold, lingering detachment.
The lust was still there, a furnace in his core, but it was a furnace he had now restrained; yet barely.
He turned fully to face her, and his expression was not one of desire, but of utter contempt.
The facade was perfect, a mask of icy nonchalance over the raging fire within.