{Early Morning, Bael Mansion}
—Sairaorg Bael—
Today, the Bael manor was in an uproar. Butlers ran around, maids gathered gold and jewels, and the chefs were busy preparing and packing sweets.
He could tell they were getting ready to go somewhere, to meet someone important. But even as the future Lord of the pillar, he couldn't figure out where Lord Bael was planning to go.
Which influential figure needed so many gifts? Especially when the Bael pillar stood near the top of the devil hierarchy. There shouldn't have been any reason for his father to prepare so much.
And shouldn't he already know if there was someone important enough that even his father had to take this much care?
Surely it wasn't Lord Zekram Bael—the old man hated sweets.
"Pack up, boy," his father finally said. "Don't take anything heavy, just a change of clothes to look decent in case these get dirty on the way."
He wanted to ask who they were visiting, but seeing how busy his father was, he decided it was better to just follow along.
He went to his room to look for something decent to wear. The maids clearly weren't free enough to help him.
"So long, yet I still can't get used to this." He muttered to himself.
He had spent most of his childhood away from the Bael main family. He had been shunned, nearly disowned by his father. Even his mother was cast aside, and to this day, he remained bitter about it.
Even with her disease, deep down, he blamed his father. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't help but hate the man.
And now, that same man wanted him to follow him around like a dog on a leash.
Still, he was willing to do it—for now. Until the day he became Lord, until the day he could make the whole world search for a cure for his mother, he would play the obedient son.
"Boy, are you ready?"
The man didn't even call him by name. Not even as his son. If his half-brother and stepmother were here today, he would have been forced to endure their insults as well. That woman always whispered poison into his father's ears, still bitter that her son had lost to him and been cast aside as heir.
Thankfully, she was away visiting her father with her precious son.
"I won't wait long!"
"Coming!" he sighed. "At least it's somewhat peaceful."
Before heading to his father, he made a quick detour to his mother's room —the ice cold place covered in chilling magic.
He checked everything—water, snacks she couldn't even eat, and the fresh flowers placed by her bedside so the room always smelled the way she liked.
"I'll see you soon, mother," he said softly. "I don't know where I'm going, but it seems like somewhere important."
"Boy!" his father's voice roared through the halls.
"I'll tell you about it when I return," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "For now, I'll take my leave. Take care, mother."
He hurriedly put on his coat and ran out to meet his father.
A dozen maids were already waiting with enough gifts to fill a storage unit.
"Took you long enough," Lord Bael said with his usual scowl. "Doesn't matter. We're leaving for the Gremorys."
"The Gremorys?" he asked, startled. "Why are we packing so many gifts for them?"
He knew it had been years since he last visited his cousin, but his father had never cared much for the Gremorys. The gifts didn't make sense.
Lord Bael shook his head, as if it were a foolish question.
"They're not for them," he said. "They're for someone who's staying with them temporarily."
That explanation made more sense. If the Gremorys were hosting someone influential, perhaps his father was trying to make up for not hosting them himself.
That's what he thought at least. But as they prepared to teleport, his curiosity got the better of him.
"Who exactly is it, father?" he asked, not expecting an answer. His father rarely bothered to explain anything. "The one staying with my cousin?"
Surprisingly, Lord Bael did answer.
"His name is Faiser Valefar-Barbatos."
The names struck him immediately—two extinct pillars.
"He's about your age," his father continued. "Maybe half a year younger."
"He is… influential?" he asked. Though the names alone had already answered that. What he really wanted to know was how influential, and how someone could carry the names of two dead houses.
"He is from the time of the Civil War. He was captured by the enemy and frozen in time, which is why I said he was your age despite being physically older." His father was being surprisingly cooperative in giving answers, which he usually never did. "He broke free of the captivity not long ago, and since then… he has been putting on quite the show."
The more his father spoke about this person, the more curious he became.
"He killed his captors, managed to win the heir title of not one, but both the pillars of his parents, and even killed Katerea Leviathan, an Ultimate Class terrorist of the Old Satan Faction. On top of that, he found the last true descendant of the original Satan Leviathan and turned her into his queen." Lord Bael looked at him, clearly amused as he retold the tale. "All while winning against Lord Zekram Bael, forcing him to agree to every single one of his demands."
Sairaorg froze in place, unable to say anything. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. No—part of him didn't even want to believe it.
He had spent years trying to reclaim the Bael heir title, and this boy managed to claim the heirship of not one, but two influential pillars?
He managed to convince Lord Zekram Bael—the very man responsible for Sairaorg losing his heir title and for shunning him and his mother. And this devil not only faced Zekram Bael, but won against him?
And he killed an Ultimate Class devil.
Sairaorg didn't know if he should believe his father, even though the man had no reason to lie. It just didn't sound real. Not for a boy his age.
"We want something important from him," his father said. "So behave, and do not cause him to dislike you. He already dislikes me. I'm taking you with the hope that you two can at least be on good terms."
'Of course,' Sairaorg thought. 'He wouldn't take me if it didn't benefit him.'
Though it was still a strange sight—to see his prideful father so worried about a boy his age.
"Be still."
And he was, as the teleportation circle activated and the space around him slowly shifted. The teleportation itself was instant, but reaching the stage where the circle fully activated took time. The symbols lit up, the glow surrounded them, and only then did the warp in space swallow them.
As they teleported, Sairaorg hoped the boy wouldn't be a difficult person to deal with.
'I can handle another Riser, but not another Diadora.'
* * *
{Present, Gremory Mansion}
"Cousin!"
Now, I expected him to come with people—maybe an advisor, maybe maids or butlers, or even his second wife.
What I didn't expect was for him to bring his son. His eldest son, at that—not even the one who could use the Power of Destruction.
He brought Sairaorg. Someone I liked, though I never thought I'd see him alongside his father.
"Good evening to you too, cousin." He gave Rias a smile as she rushed to hug him.
He was trying to play the part of the cool and composed heir. I could see it. Maybe his father asked him to act like that, maybe it was just himself.
Either way, I didn't mind. If he was the same Sairaorg I knew, I wasn't going to dislike him.
"I hope the trip wasn't difficult?" Zeoticus asked, while Venelana helped with the gifts Lord Bael carried.
"Ah, it was fine."
Now, see—this is what I don't understand. It's not like they came in a carriage, or walked. They teleported straight from their home to here. So why ask if the trip was comfortable? Why wouldn't it be?
"It's good to see you, Faiser."
"Likewise, Lord Bael." He was still a lord, and I was only an heir, so I gave him a polite bow.
"Why don't you freshen up?" Zeoticus asked, but Lord Bael shook his head.
"It is fine, we will not be staying for long," he said. "Venelana, keep the gifts in Faiser's room. They are for him."
"I guessed as much." She chuckled, then had the maids carry the boxes. "Help me with these, Rias."
"Alright." She looked a little disappointed at being pulled into work, though she didn't complain.
But I did learn one thing here—he called her by her name, not Lady Gremory. Then again, I guess that works since they're related.
"Why don't you take a seat?" Zeoticus suggested, and Lord Bael nodded.
"Alright."
Behind him, Sairaorg moved like a dog on a leash. It was almost funny, how closely he followed his father's lead.
I guess it makes sense. He is the heir, but he could be disowned any day. Winning the title doesn't mean anything if the father disowns his son.
"So, I will not be making unnecessary talks." The man was to the point, which I appreciated. "I am here today for a very specific purpose."
I could guess, but I didn't know he would actually come.
I thought he didn't care about her.
"Faiser," he looked at me. "I am willing to transfer all the land that belongs to you as well as the treasures, the entirety of it, within this month."
"Wait, what?"
I had the same reaction as Zeoticus. I expected this at some point, and I knew he would come with something good to bargain with, but I didn't think he would come with everything.
Even Zeoticus was taking his sweet time arranging for the transfer, and that was definitely going to take more than a year.
"I cannot ask anything against that, as these are what originally belong to you."
At least he wasn't stupid.
"So, I am also willing to cut a portion of my business and have you take a part of it."
Wow…
This was beyond anything I expected. And it wasn't making sense— even Sairaorg looked dumbfounded.
"I know the Bael treasury would take a hit because of all this, and Lord Zekram would not be happy." He bit his lips and took a steady breath. "But it is necessary."
"So, what is it exactly that you are looking at from me?"
At my question, he finally looked up.
"Your blood," he was direct, as direct as it could get. "Enough to cure a disease."
"What… do you mean, father?" Sairaorg couldn't stay quiet anymore.
But Lord Bael ignored his son.
"I need your blood," he said grimly. "My wife, my first wife. She is suffering from Devil's Sleeping Disease. And only your blood can wake her up."
I could see Sairaorg freeze up. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. For the longest time, he believed the disease had no cure. And now his father was saying that the blood of a random devil could wake her up?
And he was also willing to spend a fortune for that? The same man who ostracized him and his mother?
I could understand Sairaorg's shock. As for Lord Bael, I didn't really understand him. Was he truly different from what I knew? This world does diverge at certain points—was this one of them?
Was Zekram the real villain of the Bael family?
So damn annoying.
"Please." The man lowered his head, clenching his fists. "Please give me some of your blood."
At this point, Zeoticus was staring at me, wondering what I would do. And sure, I could say no. But I had no reason to.
"Please lift your head, Lord Bael." At least for Sairaorg's sake. The boy looked like he was about to break. "I can give you my blood."
This immediately made the man's eyes widen. "Really? Can you give it to me?"
Again, I had no reason not to.
"I can, but for that, I don't need a stake in your business." I might sound stupid saying that, but I had enough money. And forcing my way into a business I knew nothing about was just asking for disaster.
"Then… then what do you want?" He looked uneasy, unsure if I'd ask for something ridiculous.
And I could. I really could. But I didn't. For now, I needed as many Lords on my side as possible, and that wasn't going to happen if I pissed them off.
Lord Phenex and Zekram were already enough enemies.
"Instead of that, I'd ask you to support me in my business endeavors and hopefully guide me." I played the awkward guy. "I'm starting this potions business and will eventually clash with the Phenex. Lord Gremory is good friends with Lord Phenex, so I can't ask him to help me. So, I was hoping you could guide and support me. That would be more than enough. And don't think of it as payment. I'll give you my blood either way."
I didn't want to take advantage at the cost of Sairaorg's mother. From what I know, she's a kind devil.
"That…" The man couldn't believe it. "I will!" He said—no, he yelled. "I will help you!"
Zeoticus smiled, while Sairaorg stuttered, unable to say anything coherent.
"So please." For the first time, maybe even for Sairaorg, I heard Lord Bael's voice crack. "Please save my wife!"
Maybe, just maybe… he isn't the villain I thought him to be.
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{A/N:A/N: Got a pat reon named RedLamp01 with 30+ chapters. }