A chance to live

Brosalin / Fat demon Pov :

"NOW , FETCH ME THEIR SOULS!

"…What?...." I asked , acting confused.

Even if he is the avatar of the demon king of madness, his soul foundation was beyond pitful…

He couldn't possibly see through me..

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER ?"

Of course he fucking saw through me…

"No! No sir, of course not , but…whose souls should I fetch, sir?"

He didn't answer , he just smiled at me…A simple smile , on a stupid looking face…so why did I feel chills through my very soul?

Why did I feel like I was one step away from an abyss…One that wouldn't wait for me to stare into it. No , that abyss would rise and swallow me , showing me what true despair looks like.

This was the King of Madness modus operandi

Find someone who thinks they are strong , or smart , or prideful…and break them. Let them feel hope , and then take it away….

He was probably eying us for some time…the three brothers that ,,ruled,, the first layer.

We've tortured so many humans , away from any challenges. We have grown soft and arrogant…

We were the perfect targets…

And now…I only had one chance to survive.

I knew what the avatar wanted…

I knew what the king wanted…

I just didn't want to accept it…

I understood he wanted a show , and knowing him , there must be drama and emotion , pain and sorrow, blood and death…

.

What better show than a demon killing his own brothers , for one such as Him…

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I still hoped to be proven wrong though, and so I feigned ignorance…

As if it was even a trace of doubt in the first place…

But when I saw that…parody of a smile…I knew that I only had one more chance to accept the offer.

If I did not , I would probably be forced to watch as my brothers fought each other for survival…

Bob would definitely take the offer…that bastard never saw us as brothers, only as tools…

Akain though…he wasn't the best , but I knew he would at least hesitate to cut my head off.

For a few moments….

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"Tick tac…Tick tac…"

I looked at the avatar.

He looked back at me , encouragingly…

…I should have killed him the first time I saw him…That bastard , getting himself possessed like that. I never thought The Madness king would be the one interested in him.

Maybe Azazel , maybe even fucking Lucifer…

I used to hope I could strike a deal with him before he was recruited , binding him to an oath , and securing myself the help of a powerhouse in the future….

Hehehe…How could I be so stupid?

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Well , the Madness King might not be the most merciful…but there are stories of him giving away high quality artifacts and souls , just because they weren't ,,shiny,, enough…

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"So what will you choose, little lamb?"

I looked the avatar in the eyes…those sickly yellow eyes that made my skin crawl…and…

"I will do it…."

"HAHAHAHAHA, YES! SHOW US A GREAT S̶̙̆H̸̬̏Ò̴̝Ẁ̸̥

…the sinking feeling I felt in my gut didn't reassure me . Not at all….

But I still had a chance…I won't squander it…

Akain / Demon bro pov :

Brosalin sent me a message, telling me to come to the plains as fast as possible.

He told me in the message that Bob ate the human girl and wanted to eat the boy too.

That would be quite annoying to solve…

Rules were lax after all , but simply eating the souls they were supposed to drain was frowned upon….They might even be sent to a higher layer where everything was much more strict…

One thing was sure.

Bob had to be calmed down .

All that talk about being a superior being and he still let himself be riled up by the human boy… pathetic.

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Emerging onto the plains in a blur of teleportation, my instincts surged like a tide, propelling me to dodge just in time.

The air split with a hiss as a blade cleaved through the space where my neck had occupied just a fraction of a heartbeat before.

My gaze locked onto my assailant—my own brother, his voice a surreal mixture of regret and resolve.

"I'm sorry, little brother," he murmured, the words coated in a veneer of sorrow. "Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be…"

The sheer absurdity of the situation gripped me—the demon brothers, bound by blood but torn apart by treachery.

From the many adversaries that lurked in the shadows, my own kin wasn't even a distant consideration.

Life, it seemed, relished hurling curveballs my way, each more unpredictable than the last.

Without a word, I drew my spear from its resting place within my soul dimension.

The weapon gleamed with an otherworldly aura, a manifestation of my resolve and the essence of battles long fought and won.

My brother's presence, both familiar and foreign, loomed large—his headless form a grim testament to the gravity of his betrayal.

As I met his gaze, his eyes redder than ever and his sword trembling with a mix of emotion, I steeled myself against the tumult within.

It was a sensation—this treacherous betrayal—that I refused to allow to touch me.

Instead, it fueled a fire within, igniting an anger that raged with a ferocity that matched his blade's deadly arc.

The incongruity of it all, his care for us overshadowed by his choice to sever the bonds of kinship, added to the tempest within.

The emotions that coursed through me weren't those of sorrow or remorse, but of a simmering indignation that crackled in the air like electricity.

How dare he betray the blood we shared?

I raised my spear, its weight a reminder of battles waged and sacrifices made.

Bob's lifeless form was a testament to the inescapable truth—words were impotent in the face of this confrontation.

Brosalin had made his choice, and the echoes of our shared past couldn't alter the reality of this moment.

And so, I refused to retreat, to vanish into the ether to escape this confrontation. My resolve solidified, even though I was acutely aware of the disparity between us—he was stronger, more skilled.

I braced myself to face the storm he wrought, to meet his blade with my spear and my defiance. Even in the face of insurmountable odds, I would make him rue the day he chose betrayal over kinship.

I would make him regret betraying me…

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In a heartbeat's flash, we lunged, twin predators armed with weapons bound to our very souls.

The clash was both frenzied and calculated—a whirlwind of steel and intent that filled the air with the echoes of war.

My spear met his blade with a brutal force that drew forth a spray of sparks—a testament to the intensity of our collision.

It was quick, that first strike—an advantage seized in the wake of his distracted emotions.

Blood blossomed, a crimson testament to my determination, but his reaction was swift, his countermeasure quicker.

The dance of our battle was unyielding, a shifting tapestry of offense and defense.

His greater mastery of technique became evident as he pivoted, twisted, and flowed like water, each movement a calculated masterpiece.

The tide shifted, and I found myself on the defensive—each step, each parry, a desperate bid to forestall his inevitable triumph.

I had to change tactics, to embrace the unpredictable if I had any hope of turning the tide.

With a guttural roar, I thrust my spear forward with every ounce of my strength.

The air shuddered and gashes were carved into the earth beneath the sheer force of the pressure. It was a fierce gambit—a declaration of my resolve, a challenge flung into the tumultuous chaos.

As my spear hurtled toward him, I willed my intent through the very fibers of my being.

Parry this, I roared within the depths of my consciousness, a fervent battle cry that echoed with every heartbeat.

The battleground was no place for words; it was a crucible of action and reaction, of life and death.

Yet, in the cruel irony that often shadowed battles of such magnitude, his response defied my expectations.

His movement transcended the boundaries of my perception, a blur of motion that rendered my strike null. He flowed beneath my spear as if guided by preternatural intuition, his weapon finding its mark against my own with a clang of steel.

The Inertia carried my weapon high, and I struggled to regain my balance—a futile effort, for it was too late.

Time seemed to warp as I realized my vulnerability, my predicament.

A black ice sword—his weapon—pierced my chest with a cruel intimacy.

The blade's icy tendrils seeped through my being, sapping my strength, paralyzing my limbs.

My vision blurred, the edges of my consciousness fraying like a tattered tapestry.

I tasted the metallic tang of blood on my lips, a testament to the cost of defiance.

In that harrowing instant, as pain and paralysis became my cruel companions, I found myself at the mercy of my own recklessness, ensnared in a struggle that transcended mere physicality.

So this is the end , huh?

Killed by one of the few demons I trusted…how pathetic…

"I always told you that your impatience would be the death of you , Akain…That last thrust was way too easy to predict…" Brosalin said with a sad chuckle

"Fuck….you….you piece of trash….you are not my brother….you never have been…"

"Akain…for all it's worth it, I'm…"

That's all he got to say though, because a purplish javelin pierced his chest from behind.

"Wha…"

And then everything turned white…

Negary pov:

I really liked smart people…or demons, in this case.

There was no need for me to spell everything for them , I just needed to let some breadcrumbs here and there , drop some hints and Blamo.

They hooked themselves, finding meaning where there was none , drawing their own conclusions.

It was a dangerous game , the one I was playing, though.

I didn't expect Fat demon to need such a long time to think.

They were demons , were they not?

Why isn't he jumping at the opportunity?

I heavily implied that he would die a gruesome death if he chooses wrong.

"So what do you choose, little lamb?"

Hopefully not to rebel against a demon king…you seemed more sensible than that , Fat demon .

That's why I chose you!

Don't make me put you back in the demonball!

Locked in that pivotal moment, our eyes met—a collision of wills, a clash of destinies that reverberated through the very fabric of our souls.

As if possessed by some arcane force, I willed my eyes to ripple and gleam, a reflection of moonlight dancing upon the surface of an enigmatic lake.

It was a manifestation of my ,,insanity,, , a visual echo of the tempest that raged within.

I saw his face hardening.

He has clearly made his decision.

"I will do it…."

Yes! You really scared me for a moment, Fatty!

For a second I thought I would have to bargain with you to do this, but you didn't disappoint…

I was quite satisfied, so my laugh was only mostly fake.

"HAHAHAHAHA, YES! SHOW US A GREAT S̶̙̆H̸̬̏Ò̴̝Ẁ̸̥

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Now the game can finally begin…

I've waited a long time for this day…

A.N :

,,Turning their inability to capability;

Grasping at what was previously unattainable and making it something they could reach;

Influencing things that used to influence them and turning entities that used to control them into entities under their control.

Wasn't that the meaning of progression? "

-The original Negary , Soul of Negary