The Crown's Obsession

Calhoun didn't want to ask Vladimir on what he just saw and heard. Turning his back, he started to make his way inside the mansion. Vladimir, who spared a few more seconds to look at the lady, turned around to follow his grandson.

"What do you know about that woman?" questioned Vladimir, and Calhoun's eyes that were set ahead moved to the corner, giving Vladimir a look.

"That she is the head of the High House," came the bland reply from Calhoun before a small smile appeared on his lips. "She's staying in the Cruciferian inn. You can directly ask her."

Vladimir hummed, "That I will, but she appears to be a little strong headed. Very hard to charm."

Calhoun shook his head, "When did you both meet?" By the look Helena was giving towards Vladimir, it looked as if she was ready to bury him in a coffin and leave him there for the rest of his life with mud over the coffin.

"When I was enjoying my midnight walk," responded Vladimir and they entered the dining room. Madeline had barely touched her food since Calhoun had left the table, and on seeing him, she asked,

"Who was it?"

"Our possible relative," answered Vladimir with a lopsided grin on his face.

When Madeline gave Calhoun a confused look, he shook his head as if to ignore the Devil's words, and he sat down next to Madeline.

Calhoun then said, "It seems some of the people from the other lands as well as some of the High House members want to dissolve the High House because they are scared of what might happen to them after finding the existence of demons and angels, including the demons in the High House."

"Won't that cause complications?" asked Madeline with a small frown coming to settle on her face.

Calhoun picked up the knife and fork in his hands. "It will but only for a while. I believe it is the damned Queen, Amoura who has tried to instigate the doubt. They have possibly picked about how the High House favoured me during the many circumstances and for the death of the previous King and the Queen."

"What scared little creatures they are, to fear a demon," chuckled Vladimir before his face turned serious, his eyes darkening. "And they should. Every change causes complications, but it is important for the people to adjust, else they will forever be lost in chaos. They are only a bunch of scared people. There is barely anything to worry about. And if you need any help-"

"That won't be necessary," replied Calhoun, cutting the meat on his plate that had been reheated and he put it in his mouth, chewing before he swallowed it. "I have already prepared the men to kill the ones who tried to cause trouble today." His voice was calm as he took another bite.

This was something he had foreseen, and he had taken proper measures to stop any possible problems.

Away from the Harris' residence, somewhere far away in an isolated building, a demon had killed a human and placed the person on the table for sacrifice. The demon had a deep scar that ran from the top right side of his face to the bottom of his left side. His eyes were pitch black as if he had sucked many souls. The man's face looked pale and dead, small blue nerves popping up beneath the surface of his skin.

"Master Darian," a demon appeared behind him, kneeling on the ground with his head bowed.

Darian turned his head to the side to listen to his servant. "What news have you brought Ammon?"

"The trap has been placed as you ordered," the servant demon relayed the message.

Hearing this, Darian smiled. His eyes went back to look at the dead person who had been sacrificed a few moments ago. Blood dripped down from the sides of the table and the edges, some blood dripping down from the person's hand that travelled to the tip of the fingers before it fell on the ground.

"I also heard something while passing by the mansion," informed the servant. "I think I heard the Devil in the mansion, and he was speaking to the King of Devon."

Dairan looked displeased by this news, "What is he doing here? I thought he disappeared or was killed by the angels."

The Devil had been away from the face of the living as well as from the underworld. This had led to many superior levels of demons who wanted to claim the throne of Hell their desire rekindled in time when they heard about the rumours of the existence of the dark angel from whom powers could be drawn for their own use.

The servant shook his head, "Master the news is already old as the Devil reclaimed the throne of Hell a few days ago. It happened when we were here, which is why we didn't get to hear about it."

Darian looked enraged, and when he moved his hand, many bricks of the wall broke and fell down, leaving dust in the air. "This cannot be happening! Funny how a fallen angel comes to the underworld and claims the throne to be his. Hell is mine, and for so many years I have been working for it. But it doesn't matter," hummed Darian, moving away from the table where the dead laid.

"Once the dark angel falls into our trap, the devil or no angel can do anything about it. We just need to wait for tomorrow, and you will lead the way, Ammon," ordered Darian. "I don't want any mishaps else you will turn in far worse condition than this human here."

Once upon a time, he had demons who worked for him, in the promise that they all get equal standings in Hell. But because of that one single bitch, his whole plan had been screwed up, and his ambition had slipped through his fingers right in front of his eyes. But this time he wouldn't let it happen. This time Hell would be his, and so would be the world.

"Clean this place and throw the body in the forest. I have something else to do," said the demon before he stepped out of the room.