CHAPTER 602: CHAPTER 603: TITULAR DEMON LORDS

Damon did not know what to make of Lilith Astranova’s words. How was her name connected to demons? And if her name truly belonged to one of them... why would her father ever allow it?

The name Lilith did not particularly stand out in the world of Aetherus. It was unique in the sense that no one else bore it, but otherwise, it seemed ordinary. Nothing about it suggested the heavy weight she now placed upon it.

"Does the name Adramelech ring any bells?" Lilith asked quietly.

Damon’s eyes narrowed. He nodded slowly, recognizing it instantly—the name of a great demon lord, enemies. Sworn enemies of House Brightwater.

"Yeah... the demon lord Adramelech of the previous generation was the one who killed Rachel Brightwater... before he was slain by the Grand Duke in the year 4899," he muttered. His tone was measured, but the memories of the histories he’d studied flooded back.

That had been one of the more recent demon wars. Adramelech and his bloodline had borne dominion over the sun itself—an attribute that had made them feared across the continents.

They targeted households of the goddess races who wielded light, and House Brightwater had been among their victims.

The Grand Duke personally struck the demon lord down in the Battle of Dying Suns in 4903, one of the few occasions in history when a seventh-class demon lord had been killed.

The cost, however, had been catastrophic. Millions dead, and an entire stretch of continent scarred beyond recovery, left in perpetual immolating sunlight.

To this day, that place was known as the Sunfields—a cursed land where standing beneath the eternal blaze meant instant death.

"Yes," Damon murmured, almost to himself. "The old man was... powerful."

Lilith nodded faintly. Her eyes glimmered in the faint moonlight.

"What about Beelzebub?"

Another name, another shadow of dread. Damon’s face darkened.

She continued without pause, her tone chillingly steady. "Malacoda. Baal. Asmodeus. Agares. Paimon. Focalor."

Damon’s frown deepened, his voice sharpening. "These are all the names of demon lords—the rulers of the Demon Continent."

"Exactly," Lilith whispered.

Damon’s expression hardened.

"They aren’t always the same being. These names are... inherited. A title granted when a demon ascends to the seventh class and earns the right to rule. Adramelech was one example—when the last one fell, a new demon rose and took the name."

Lilith bit her lips, drawing in a shaky breath.

"These names—the system itself—was introduced during Ashcroft’s era. He decided which demons would bear which names, and he created a catalogue of power... a registry of rulers."

She closed her eyes, letting the wind whip across her face.

"Not all the names were ever used. Some never made it to the public. Those names... were guarded by the priestesses of the Snake Temple, with Paimon overseeing them all. They memorized them, carried them in their hearts. Should a new demon lord appear, one would be chosen from the forgotten list."

"Names like Lilith, Amon, Astaroth...."

Her voice dropped to a near whisper, though Damon caught every word.

"Lilith... was one of those names. A name that never reached the world."

The lesser demon slowed its gait as the terrain grew jagged, the shadows stretching across the rocks. Lilith leaned lightly against Damon, her voice trembling as if every word cost her strength.

"My nanny, Ishana, was the one who gave me the name. She was from the Demon Continent."

Damon stilled, his breath caught in his throat. Her silence afterward was enough to confirm it.

"How does a demon end up working for House Astranova—one of the four Grand Dukedoms?" he asked in a low voice.

Lilith’s shoulders lifted weakly. "I don’t know. Ishana had been with my father since he was a child. She served him long before I was born... so he was attached to her as well."

Her spine shivered as though icy fingers had grazed her skin.

"Her death... was the only time I ever saw him shaken."

Damon’s eyes narrowed.

"So he knew. If she had the ability to alter her appearance, it would explain how she survived among humans. Demonkin aren’t entirely unlike the goddess races, after all... just marked differently."

Lilith’s gaze lifted skyward as the lesser demon picked up speed again, leaping over boulders with ease.

"He knew. Or maybe he just pretended not to know. Perhaps it was an act they both kept up, each playing the fool."

Damon clenched his jaw. That would make sense. If the Duke acknowledged the truth openly, he’d be branded a traitor to the Empire, excommunicated by the Temple, and hunted as one who harbored demons.

But secrets, no matter how carefully buried, always surfaced. The Temple’s reach was vast, and their eyes never stayed closed forever.

Lilith’s voice broke into his thoughts.

"You’re not far from the truth."

Damon’s arms tightened protectively around her waist. "...I didn’t say anything."

"You didn’t need to." Her tone hardened, laced with venom.

"This is why I hate the Temple. It’s not about justice. It’s not about honor. It’s just petty revenge."

Her fury rippled in the air, thick enough that even the lesser demon faltered, halting as if something monstrous had passed over them.

Damon felt his own shadow ripple, as if bracing against an invisible force.

Lilith’s back burned with a faint heat, her body trembling with the weight of her endless wrath.

"We’re close," she whispered.

Damon lowered her carefully to the ground, though he knew she didn’t need his help.

She inhaled deeply, her eyes burning with grief and rage.

"My mother died before I ever knew her. Not even the portraits could make her real to me. When I try to picture her, the face I see is always Ishana’s... because she was the one who raised me. She was the one who gave me love. She was the one who gave me my name."

Her hands trembled, her aura flaring violently as her murderous intent poured out unchecked.

"It was on this very land that the Temple’s mongrels murdered my mother. And by the forgotten name of the Unknown God, they will pay."