Vorlag's heavy, burning gaze bore into Kaelgor for several long, uncomfortable seconds.
The brute's body seemed to pull air and light towards him, the surface of his tough skin gleaming dully as a rhythmic brown-orange light flickered for a moment.
He was assessing, probing for weakness, for deception.
But Kaelgor remained a statue of cold, nonchalant boredom; his expression unreadable behind the sleek curves of his helmet, his posture radiating a bored, unassailable confidence.
Vorlag's gaze narrowed, then, with a grunt of frustration, he looked away.
He would not waste time on a stone that refused to bleed.
Instead, the brute strutted forward, his massive body cutting an imposing path towards the shimmering barrier of Adam's domain.
His thick, spiked tail swept the ground behind him, leaving furrows in the dirt. He moved with the arrogant confidence of a being who had never known a wall he could not eventually shatter.
This devil didn't wear abyssal steel armor, and quite frankly, Kaelgor didn't think he needed it. His strength, his imposing aura, were enough as it is.
The armor would only get in his way.
"Huff! Heave~"
A demon brute that seemed to be carved of black stone lumbered over, carrying a war-hammer of black abyssal steel. Its height was of 3 meters, and the hammer head was a meter wide.
Such a weapon, carried by his lackeys, was something that fit Vorlag quite well.
Kaelgor's red, demonic gaze tracked him, sliding from the barrier's humming surface to Vorlag's advancing back.
Still, such a brute would probably not be able to breach the barrier. Though, even he didn't know, as his own attack was cut off before he could land the strike on the barrier, preventing him from personally knowing, feeling its limits.
Then, deliberately, his gaze shifted to the other observer.
Malgrim stood apart, his thinner build and pale skin formed a stark contrast to Vorlag's brutish build.
His four slender arms were folded across his chest, his long, needle-like fingers drumming silently on his own biceps.
Seemingly finding amusement in their interactions.
His deep-set, cold and intelligent green-glowing eyes were fixed on Kaelgor with intensity that lit the very air between them.
When he saw that he had the peak-tier devil's attention, the corners of his thin, bloodless lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
It was a smile that held no warmth, only a sharp, predatory amusement.
"If you are not going to say anything," Malgrim's voice was soft, a whisper that seemed to slither through the air, "Then I would rather not waste my time here," He paused, letting the silence stretch, then added, "Your silence speaks volumes, Kaelgor. I wonder what secrets it is you are trying to keep."
With that, he turned and glided forward, moving with an eerie, insectile grace, following in Vorlag's wake.
His presence silent, yet dangerous.
Kaelgor remained still for a heartbeat or two.
"Sigh~"
Then, with a soft, deliberate exhale, he followed.
His massive form moved with a deceptive calmness, his footsteps slow and measured.
Vorlag was loud and overbearing, Malgrim was eerie and quiet, while his were steady and undaunted.
A barbarian, an assassin, and a knight… well, not that it was an accurate description of their capabilities.
The mask of bored indifference donned Kaelgor's face, but beneath it, his mind was a whirlwind of prepared responses, half-truths, and strategic forethought.
Vorlag reached the barrier first.
He stopped five meters from its humming surface, close enough to feel the thrum of its power vibrating in his bones, but not close enough to trigger any reaction.
His massive, rock-like fist clenched and unclenched at his side.
His personal demon, carrying his weapon of choice that seemed to heavy for it, knelt at his side with the war-hammer held up like an offering.
He grabbed the weapon easily, like picking up a spoon, and started to radiate a dangerous amount of demonic mana.
His subordinate was sent flying back while the demons in and out of the barrier grew agitated; the strength of the devil before them made them want to instinctively kneel.
He opened his mouth, poised to bellow a challenge, a question, a demand directly at the figures he could now see clearly beyond the shimmering wall; the defeated and battered Saphira, and the victorious, newly ascended Adam who was carrying her towards the nexus.
The two devils within the barrier.
Kaelgor's voice, calm and unhurried, cut him off before he could speak.
"We are not allowed to pass that barrier," The words were flat and final, carrying the weight of absolute authority, "Lord Gorael's decree."
"What?" Vorlag's head snapped towards him.
"Lord Gorael's decree," Kaelgor repeated, his tone unchanged. "The barrier is to remain unbreached. We are to contain, not engage. Those are our orders," His demonic red gaze flared slightly under his helm, "Or have you forgotten already?"
Of course Vorlag hadn't forgotten, but he was just going to try to threaten and scare the weakling to answer some questions.
To make it worse, Kaelgor's voice was loud, easily heard by the demons within the barrier, and most likely the devil within too!
Annoyed that his threats would be useless, he lowered his weapon and his raging demonic mana, which had created a shallow indentation around him in the short seconds that he had unleashed it.
His body turned to glare at Kaelgor.
Malgrim had stopped a few paces behind Vorlag, his four green eyes flicking between the barrier, the figures beyond, and finally on Kaelgor's impassive face.
His thin smile had faded, replaced by a look of sharp, calculating suspicion.
The notion that Kaelgor might be lying was a persistent, irritating itch in both their minds.
Lord Gorael was their ultimate god, the source of their authority and the arbiter of their fates.
To go against his decree was unthinkable.
But Kaelgor was the only one who had spoken directly with the Arch Devil. There was no way to verify his words with 100% certainty, and such a matter had long driven them insane.
They were trapped in a cage built of unknown truth and lies, where Kaelgor held the only key.
Vorlag's frustration boiled over.
"What's with those strange energy signals?" He demanded, his voice rising, "The spikes, the fluctuations! Don't say you don't know anything, Kaelgor. We all felt them!"
He spoke of the energy fluctuations that he had Adam release; to stoke their curiously.
They had been doing their job well, even making them start their own secret plans…
"We all sensed the fight, and now an ascension?" He pointed a thick, sharp finger towards the barrier as he spoke, "A mid-tier devil just clawed his way to the high-tier in the middle of a battle! Does that mean the devil in there, the one you've been so secretive about, was a mid-tier welp this entire time?!?"
His accusation hung in the air, heavy with implication.
A mid-tier devil, a mere newborn, had been the source of all this chaos?
Had been the reason they were all standing here, encircling a basin, following the orders of a devil who might have been lying to them?
The insult to their pride was palpable.
Malgrim remained silent, but his gaze was no less demanding.
His four eyes bored into Kaelgor, observing every micro-expression, every subtle shift in posture.
He was waiting, watching, letting Vorlag do the aggressive questioning while he observed the responses.
Itching for an opening to worm his way into!
Kaelgor did not flinch.
He did not rush to defend himself.
He let the silence stretch, let their suspicions ferment.
"The energy signals," He said finally, his voice a deep and steady, "Are a result of the nexus point's… anomalous behavior," His words were the truth, just not the entirety of it.
It was a subject that held no good endings for him, so he quickly moved on, to something that would quench their desire for answer, to something more interesting at the moment.
"As for the fight…" He paused, his gaze drifting towards the barrier, towards the figures of his daughter and her conqueror, "The fight involved my blood."
Vorlag's eyes narrowed.
Malgrim's thin smile returned, albeit sharper now.
They had already known.
They could sense it, just as an animal could scent the blood of another.
Saphira's aura, despite the battering it had taken, still pulsed with deep echoes of Kaelgor's own signature.
It was a familial bond, unspoken but undeniable.
They had known the crimson-skinned deviless was his daughter the moment they had seen her, the moment they had sensed her.
"Why was there a fight?" Vorlag pressed, his curiosity overriding his suspicion.
"Don't deny it. We all felt the fluctuations. And your blood is now on the other side of that barrier, in the clutches of that… that welp," He spat the last word, still insulted that they couldn't just right interrogate the weakling, "What is your game, Kaelgor?"
Kaelgor turned his head slowly, his red demonic gaze meeting Vorlag's fiery glare.
Malgrim leaned forward slightly, his four arms uncrossing, his fingers twitching with anticipation.
The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded an answer.