CHAPTER 64: CH 64: THE MAN IN WHITE - PART 4

Lucian leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes fixed on the demon in white before him.

"I can’t do that. That isn’t my role. I won’t sever fate for you. But I can guide the one who will."

Lucian said at last, his voice even.

The room grew colder. Belphegor tilted his head, his white hair falling like snow over his face. His lips curved, though there was no mirth in the smile.

"So you refuse? You won’t even attempt to defy fate, even when you carry the ability to do so?"

His voice was soft, but every syllable carried a weight that pressed against Lucian’s chest.

Lucian didn’t flinch. He leaned forward, resting his small hands on the table between them.

"My goal is not to serve fate. My goal is to repay a debt and to aid the one who will free this world. Severing fate for you does not benefit me. But guiding that person—that does align with my path."

For the first time, Belphegor’s expression cracked. His lazy indifference shifted into mild annoyance.

The air hummed with the restrained weight of his power, pressing against the wooden walls of the reception room. Berry, who lingered outside, surely felt it.

Lucian remained calm.

At length, Belphegor let out a sigh, a long exhale that seemed to carry away some of the pressure. His lips curled into something sharper than a smile.

"This is the first time, that I have had to bargain this hard with a human. Normally, they leap at my offers. They beg for my power. They grasp at the scraps of benefits I throw their way. Yet here you are—calmly refusing, bargaining as though you and I stand on equal ground."

He said slowly,

Lucian’s tone didn’t waver.

"I value my life too much to gamble recklessly. And this settlement—this valley—it matters to me. That is why I’m cautious. That is why I refuse."

For a moment, silence hung heavy between them. Then Belphegor laughed, a low, weary sound that still held danger within it.

"Cautious... selfish... and shrewd. Very well, human. You intrigue me enough that I’m willing to test this alliance of yours."

Lucian’s lips curved into a faint smile. He nodded, then raised his hand.

"Then let us seal it with a contract."

At once, a circle of light appeared, glowing faintly as divine runes traced themselves across the air.

Belphegor’s eyes narrowed, and he hissed sharply as the radiance brushed against him.

"Divine mana? You... you carry their taint. No wonder you reek of a foreign world."

His voice lowered, his tone sharpened. His black eyes with white pupils gleamed as though seeing through Lucian.

Lucian tilted his head slightly, calm as ever.

"What’s wrong? Are you backing out already?"

For the first time, Belphegor’s expression darkened. He leaned forward, his hand brushing the light of the contract until it sizzled faintly against his skin. Yet he did not withdraw.

"Afraid? Hardly. A true king does not fear chains, only annihilation. I said I’d test this alliance, and so I will."

The contract sealed with a flare of light, sinking into the space between them.

Lucian poured a small cup of fruit wine from a clay jug—newly fermented by the settlers. He pushed one cup toward Belphegor, who regarded it with amusement before lifting it.

They drank together, and the weight in the air lessened.

When the silence broke again, it was Lucian who asked.

"Then, King Belphegor, tell me what you can about this world. If we are allies now, knowledge should flow between us."

Belphegor leaned back, swirling the wine lazily in his cup. His voice came smooth, but his words were anything but casual.

"This world is not as small as your valley would have you think. It is divided into three parts."

He began.

Lucian listened carefully.

"First is this realm—the underworld of frost and shadow, where you and your people live. It is where the discarded, the unwanted, and the damned are sent. A graveyard of sorts, though stubborn souls like you turn it into a place of survival."

He raised a finger.

"Second, the upper realm—what your kind would call Heaven. That is where most of the demon kings reside with their legions of followers. It is warm, thriving, and steeped in excess. Those who rise to prominence down here may be taken there, though it is rare. One in a million, perhaps."

His expression shifted into something colder.

"And third, the forbidden holy grounds. No human, no demon, not even a king such as I may enter there. It is a place locked away by the divine themselves. A scar left behind by their arrogance."

Lucian’s brows knit faintly. He did not interrupt.

"Those who prove themselves in this underworld are sometimes elevated upward,"

Belphegor continued.

"But far more often, those who fall from grace in Heaven are cast down here, stripped of privilege and left to rot. The ratio, you ask? One in a million to ascend, but one in a hundred to be thrown down."

He chuckled softly, finishing his wine.

"So tell me, little outsider... which path do you intend to take?"

Lucian’s silence was long, thoughtful. Belphegor’s black-and-white eyes studied him like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

At last, Lucian spoke.

"I’m not leaving."

Belphegor blinked once, then tilted his head, clearly intrigued.

"I noticed it the moment I laid eyes on you. Your soul doesn’t belong here. You came from Heaven, didn’t you? And you’ve fallen down. Don’t you wish to return?"

The demon king said.

Lucian shook his head. His tone was steady, his gaze unwavering.

"No. My end goal is here, in the underworld. If I want to fulfill it, I must remain. What I need cannot be found above—it can only be built here, with my own hands."

For a heartbeat, Belphegor simply stared at him. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

"Interesting. Very interesting. You are the first outsider I’ve met who would willingly stay in this frozen hell. Most claw desperately for a way back, or beg for power to rise above. But you..."

He laughed, long and low.

"...you are either the most stubborn fool I’ve seen or the most dangerous ally I could claim."

Lucian didn’t smile. He only met the demon’s eyes with the calm certainty of one who knew his path.

And in that moment, Belphegor leaned back, his laughter echoing softly through the chamber, as though he’d just confirmed that he had chosen well.