Seeing the suspicion and caution blooming in the newborn's gaze, Kaelgor decided to demonstrate.
Actions, after all, spoke louder than words, and a demonstration was worth a thousand explanations.
His focus shifted to Saphira.
He simply looked at her; his red, demonic gaze seemingly casual, but also piercing through her entire being.
The effect was instantaneous and unexpected.
Saphira, who had been sitting on the ground, her head lowered, her breathing soft, suddenly froze.
Her entire body went rigid, as if seized by an invisible, crushing grasp. As if she were dunked in a frost so cold that it burned. Her entire nervous system, her mind, froze.
"Hissss!" A choked gasp escaped her lips, and she swayed, nearly falling over onto her side.
Her broken arm, the limb that Adam had battered and left hanging limply, shot out instinctively, her palm slapping against the jagged ground to catch herself.
"Crunch!"
The motion was quick and uncoordinated, causing a soft, sickening crack echoed from the damaged limb as it was forced to bear her weight.
Her teeth clenched so hard that a grinding sound was heard; a pained groan was held back in her throat.
For two agonizing seconds, she sat there in that uncomfortable, painful posture; trembling as her instincts had only allowed her to use a single arm for those few seconds before her entire body finally felt as if it were hers again.
Like the chains that had caused her to stiffen up had finally been released.
"Urgghhh~"
Then, slowly, painfully, she pushed herself back into a stable sitting position, her movements stiff, her breath in ragged gasps.
When she finally lifted her gaze to meet her father's, her angry, molten brass eyes held a new emotion, one that had not been revealed before.
Fear.
Deep, hidden, primal fear, buried beneath layers of pride and defiance, but unmistakably present.
Adam had felt it too.
At the exact instant Kaelgor had focused on Saphira, a wave of overwhelming killing intent had washed over the small group.
Though the shocking thing was that it was not coming from Kaelgor!
The peak-tier devil's aura had remained steady, controlled, almost bored.
No, the killing intent had erupted from within Saphira herself!
It had surged from somewhere deep inside her as a sudden, violent explosion of overbearing pressure that had overwhelmed her senses and left her paralyzed and disoriented for a few seconds.
It was an external, foreign will that had not been born of Saphira, but from something within her.
From a brand.
One Adam had not even thought to look for
He had been constantly researching branding since its discovery, experimenting with it on his own subjects, even beginning to understand the subtle, insidious ways a devil's will could contaminate another's soul with different approaches.
But this… this was something he hadn't even thought of.
Kaelgor's brand, etched into Saphira's very being from the moment of her birth, was not just a mark of ownership.
It was a weapon.
A shock collar capable of delivering a jolt of pure, paralyzing terror at its master's whim.
The killing intent had not been meant to harm her physically; it had been meant to control her, to freeze her mind momentarily.
In the middle of a life-or-death fight, a single second of disorientation, of mental distraction, was more than enough to dictate the outcome.
Kaelgor could have ended the battle at any moment, simply by 'pressing' a hidden button.
Adam had not even noticed the brand's existence.
In his fury, in his rage at her betrayal, he had planned to fuck her, break her, and then kill her. In that order.
He had not bothered to delve deep within her soul, to search for the hidden secrets or desires of her being.
It was an oversight.
But now, in hindsight, it made perfect sense.
Any child born of a devil would carry the brands of their parents.
It was an inheritance as fundamental as blood or bone, etched into their souls from the very moment of their conception.
The question was not whether the brand existed, but whether the parent chose to cultivate it, to nurture it into a tool of control, or to let it wither into a harmless, familial mark.
A bond stronger than blood, but free of the chains it could become.
Kaelgor, it seemed, was the cultivating type.
He had kept his daughter on a leash, subtle, but a leash nonetheless.
Now he realized that he still had much to learn about the true nature of the devils he was dealing with.
With the knowledge that was still out of his grasp.
Shaking his head and getting back to his train of thought, Adam forced the revelation of Kaelgor's brand and its capabilities to the back of his mind.
There would be time later to dissect its purpose, to study its properties, to learn how to replicate or counter it.
'But that would mean leaving the brand on her…' A new dilemma arose.
For now, he had a more immediate, practical concern: salvaging something from this disaster.
Deep in his mind, buried beneath layers of pride and arrogance, Adam knew he had been played.
Kaelgor had manipulated him, had used Saphira as a pawn, and had turned his own lust and greed into a weapon against him.
But he couldn't be truly mad, not without being a hypocrite.
He was the one who had arrogantly let a stronger devil within his barrier, who had been so blinded by her beauty and his own desire that he had forgotten the most basic rule of survival in hell: never let your guard down.
The fault was not entirely his, but it was not entirely Kaelgor's either.
They were both players in a game, and Adam had made a critical error. It would be foolish of Kaelgor to not give it a try.
Still, error or not, he had to get something out of this. Some form of revenge, compensation, or even leverage.
To walk away empty-handed, humiliated and outmaneuvered, was unacceptable. His pride burned and demanded satisfaction.
"After all you have done, who cares who is at fault? In the end, it was your objective and your intent. You wanted to test me, to use me, to see if your daughter could kill me or be killed in the process."
He paused, making his claim, his evil red gaze locked on Kaelgor's still helmet.
"So tell me this. What is stopping me from sending a message to Vorlag and Malgrim right now and revealing your plans of thievery? The resources you have been siphoning from their territories? After you tried to take my life, why should I keep your secrets? Our deals asked of no secrecy on my part after all…"
It was all Adam had on him, at least all he could afford playing with.
"Hmm?" Kaelgor grunted in genuine amusement.
His red eyes, glowing behind the slit of his helmet, glittered with a dark, mocking humor.
"You could tell them." He said flatly, casually, the matter holding little importance.
"If you want. It would make things slightly harder. For all of us. Certainly for you, as they would then turn their attention to your little basin, demanding answers, demanding access, demanding their pound of flesh," He shrugged, the movement a casual roll of his massive, armored shoulders, "But I would still kill them. Both of them. Even if they joined forces. It would take longer, perhaps. Slightly more effort, but the outcome would be the same."
Demonic mana and miasma drifted under the berserkers control.
Arrogance.
Pride.
The words dripped from his mouth were casual, uncaring, arrogant.
Adam sensed it even without his words: an unwavering confidence, a bone-deep certainty in his own strength that made the reckless statement somehow, no, absolutely believable.
Kaelgor was not bluffing.
He truly believed he could defeat two peak-tier devils in a fight, even if they ganged up against him.
And Adam, despite his own pride, was inclined to believe it.
The way Kaelgor had been able to burst with killing intent from within Saphira, through the brand etched into her very soul, was proof enough.
It was a technique, a level of control, that was leagues beyond Adam's current understanding.
Even now, standing on the other side of a barrier that had withstood the combined assault of hundreds of demons, Adam felt a faint, persistent prickle against his skin.
It was the sensation of being watched, of being assessed, of being measured for weaknesses or openings by an absolute monster.
Kaelgor's lazy, uncaring gaze was a blade sheathed at a distance, yet Adam could feel its razor edge.
Extremely dangerous.
That was his assessment.
Kaelgor was not someone Adam could fight, not now, not even if he reached the peak-tier.
There was a quality to his power, a depth of experience and a mastery of technique, that transcended mere tier or realm.
That was why Adam had not been stupid enough to attack Kaelgor even when he had seemed distracted, when he had been crouching with his guard appearing be down.
He knew it was bait.
Had he been overeager or blinded by rage, then he probably wouldn't be standing at that moment.