POV: Meruem
He had just returned from a long meeting with the priests of his church, and organizing what was meant to be the first historical gathering of all his worshippers had proven far more complicated and demanding than he had initially anticipated.
His followers were scattered across multiple human nations and hidden territories, and each regional priest carried their own strong personality, rigid interpretation of doctrine, and personal ambitions, which meant his direct oversight was necessary to prevent disputes, rivalries, and quiet power struggles from disrupting the preparations.
The logistics alone were exhausting, because routes had to be secured, transportation arranged through both mundane and supernatural means, and all of it timed so that thousands could arrive at the designated place of gathering on the exact same date without attracting unwanted attention from angels, devils, or human authorities.
The date itself could not be changed, since he had chosen the sixth day of the sixth month in the year two thousand and six, a sequence of three sixes that held strong symbolic value in demonic traditions and would reinforce the ritual significance of the event.
He walked through the corridors of House Beleth's castle while going over the remaining arrangements in his mind, and then paused when he sensed a large concentration of demonic energy coming from the direction of the great hall, far more than what would be normal for routine court activity. Curious, he changed course and followed the sensation.
When he stepped into the hall, the sight that greeted him made him slow his steps. Every member of the royal household was present, from the lowest ranked servants standing near the walls with lowered gazes, to the high council of the realm gathered in formal attire near the front, to the royal family themselves assembled at the raised podium.
He saw his brothers and sisters standing together, along with five of the six queens, all facing the crowd with solemn expressions. Queen Morena wore a gown of sea blue silk trimmed with fine gold lace. A golden ring set with a diamond the size of a coin rested on her finger, and a matching tiara sat neatly upon her head.
Six royal guards were arrayed in a crescent formation at the base of the podium, clad in full armor of black and gold from helm to heel, long red cloaks falling from their shoulders, and polished golden shields strapped to their left arms.
He immediately noticed the absence of the sixth queen, Jahibath Beleth née Urieus.
"What's going on here?" he asked, his calm voice carrying easily across the hall.
The entire gathering fell silent at once and turned toward him in visible surprise. He walked forward at an even pace toward his family, and as he approached, the crowd parted quickly to make way for him. Some dropped to one knee while others bowed from the waist depending on their rank and position.
He had not even reached the midpoint of the hall when his mother suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around him, holding him tightly against her.
"My son, you're unharmed!" she said, her voice unsteady with relief. "I had been worried without rest after not hearing from you for so long. Messengers returned with no clear word and the castle has been in turmoil. I feared you had been caught in whatever darkness has fallen over this house. I feared I would never see you again."
He had only been gone for a little over a day, but as always his mother was her overdramatic self, treating it like it's the end of the world.
"Why would you think that?" he asked after she let him go and yet held him firmly in his hands like he might disappear at any moment. He looked at the assembled crowd. "I see the king's council gathered together, yet I don't see him. Where is my father?"
The king was the only one with enough authority to summon all members of the high council of the realm, with the exception of the archon whose authority came from the king. To see them all gathered without the king present was deeply suspicious.
"The king is dead," Morena said, her voice breaking as grief and anger mixed together. "Murdered by traitors and schemers who spat upon every law that binds noble houses. He went under the protection of guest right, trusting in ancient covenants that even enemies are meant to honor. He entered a vassal's territory in good faith to speak of alliance and unity, and they butchered him like a criminal. They sent his severed head back to us in a box as if it were a trophy. They have shamed the old laws and stained this realm with an act that will not be forgotten."
Meruem was genuinely surprised. He had known about rising tensions in the kingdom from Maerach, yet he had never expected that his father would die so soon or in such a way.
"King Andrameleth Beleth is dead," Athaliah declared, her voice ringing across the hall with formal clarity so that every person present could hear. She stepped forward, posture straight, expression composed despite the grief shining in her eyes. "By the laws of succession and by the will of the royal blood, the crown now passes to his rightful heir. All hail His Majesty, King Meruem Beleth, first of his name, sovereign of House Beleth and lord of its lands and people, defender of its laws."
Atliah then bowed to her knees and shouted. "The king is dead, long live the king!"
At once, every person present followed her lead, falling to their knees as one and shouting in a jubilant chorus.
"Long live the king!"
"Long live the king!"
"Long live the king!"
He saw his brothers Belathriel and Hermon bowing side by side, while his younger sister Heriodias knelt beside Athaliah. The five queens also knelt, with his mother leading them, her expression far too eager for a woman whose husband had just died.
At least do not look quite so pleased, your husband's corpse has barely grown cold, he thought sardonically.
He did not feel much sorrow over his father's passing. They had shared little of a real relationship. The late king had loved and treasured Meruem deeply, yet that Meruem was gone, replaced by a soul from another world.
His exile for two years had only widened the distance between them, robbing him of any opportunity to form the bond that the former Meruem had once shared with his father. In the end, King Andrameleth Beleth was little more than a stranger to him, no more nor less.
It seems I have some catching up to do.
…
After the dramatic revelation of his father's death and his own proclamation as king, he had accepted the ensuing celebration with the measured courtesies expected of a sovereign, receiving the fealty of loyal councilors, nobles, and other figures of importance whose allegiance now formally belonged to him.
Once the rites of loyalty were concluded, he commanded that the high council of the realm and the royal family convene immediately, and they were soon gathered within the grand chamber traditionally reserved for meetings between the king and his closest advisors.
He sat at the head of the long table. To his left sat his mother, and beside her were her sister wives in order of seniority. To his right sat his elder sister Athaliah, and beside her Belathriel, Herodias, and Hermon in that order.
Directly across from him sat Zaeshma Merihem, the Archon of the Crown, who served as the king's right hand and oversaw the daily administration of the realm. The remaining seats were filled by the Marshal of the Crown, Royson Luvart; the Keeper of the Treasury, Alafar Nergal; the Lord of Justice, Hadgu Tammuz; the Keeper of Secrets, Fumi Martinet; and the Grand Envoy, Rirva Mullin.
"…and though I told him that my gut feeling warned me that something terrible would come of it, he would not heed my concern 'I must leave Meruem reliable allies,' he said, and then went to his secret meeting with Lord Grach Urieus," Morena recounted, her voice tight with anger and grief as she spoke of the last time she had seen the king.
A heaviness settled in Meruem's chest at her words, for his father had taken that risk in an attempt to leave him a stable foundation upon which to rule, and in that moment he silently swore that he would avenge him.
It was the least he could do.
"And where is Queen Jahibath, daughter of Grach Urieus?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over those assembled, only to find that many averted their eyes, unable to meet his eyes.
Jahibath Beleth née Urieus had been the sixth and final official wife of his father, her marriage intended to bind House Urieus more tightly to the crown and serve as a calculated slight against House Acteus.
At the time, Lord Acteus had possessed an eligible sister and had petitioned for a royal marriage, yet for reasons Meruem had never fully uncovered, his father had refused, despite House Acteus standing as the most powerful vassal beneath the crown.
Knowing the volatile pride of the lords of Hell, Lord Acteus had surely perceived the slight as deliberate, and resentment had likely festered ever since.
"To our shame, your majesty, Queen Jahibath fled the castle long before word of the king's passing reached us," Hadgu Tammuz said, his tone measured and sympathetic.
"Murdered," Belathriel corrected sharply, meeting the Lord of Justice's gaze head on, daring him to contradict the word.
His younger brother had taken their father's death poorly, though not so openly as Hermon, whose eyes remained red and swollen from weeping. Athaliah's true feelings were difficult to discern, her neutral composure likely forged during her long subjugation under mind control.
Herodias wore an expression of mournful solemnity, though Meruem suspected much of it was calculated, judging by the critical way her eyes examined everyone present.
"Of course, your highness," Hadgu replied quietly. "The king's murder has left us all shaken."
Meruem doubted the sincerity of that sentiment, suspecting that for many seated at the table, his father's death represented opportunity more than tragedy.
"What reason could Grach possibly have for this treason?" he asked, fixing his so-called advisors with an even stare.
He noted absently that among the queens, the second queen Aelyra, Belathriel's mother, appeared the most devastated by her husband's death, turning her face away whenever he looked in her direction, as if she feared what she might see in his eyes.
Before any answer could be given, a sharp knock echoed from the great doors of the chamber, drawing his attention and prompting a slight lift of his brow as he wondered what matter could justify such an interruption.
The doors burst open and a messenger rushed inside, armor dusty and breath ragged, before dropping to his knees so hard the sound cracked across the stone floor.
"I believe I gave explicit instructions that no one was to interrupt us unless the matter was of utmost urgency," Meruem said calmly, his gaze settling on the trembling devil whose name escaped him.
"Our sincerest apologies, your majesty," one of the guards spoke, his tone contrite. His name was Naam, if memory serves. "He refused to withdraw, insisting that he carried information of immediate importance that you would wish to hear, your grace."
To presume knowledge of a king's priorities was a dangerous arrogance in the courts of Hell, one that many volatile devil lords would punish without hesitation, and Meruem was keenly aware of the risk the servant had taken.
He regarded the messenger, who trembled with his forehead pressed to the floor.
"Very well," Meruem said evenly. "Speak, then. What information do you bring?"
"I cannot, your royal highness," the messenger replied, his voice shaking. "I was dispatched upon a secret mission by His Majesty himself, and I-I am bound by oath to reveal no details of that mission without the king present. I beg you, my prince, allow me to see him, for the hour is dire and the danger presses close."
"You are speaking to the king at this very moment," Herodias said coldly. "My father is dead."
The messenger visibly recoiled at the revelation, terror flooding his features as he realized he may have already offended the newly crowned monarch.
"Speak," Meruem commanded, his tone leaving no room for refusal.
"Your majesty," the messenger cried, his words tumbling out in panic, "I bring terrible news, news most dire. I have witnessed armies gathering in secret, forces amassed in preparation for treason, a coordinated plot meant to depose the king and tear the realm apart from within."
A ripple of shock spread through the chamber, murmurs rising before dying away, while his mother and Athaliah looked particularly furious, their expressions darkening with restrained wrath.
"Speak plainly, boy," Morena snapped harshly. "Whose armies are these, and what have you seen? Spare us no detail."
The messenger swallowed hard. "Months ago the king secretly sent me to observe House Acteus and report any unusual activity, since His Majesty suspected his principal vassal might be conspiring against him. For a long time there was only tension and subtle movements of troops within their own borders, nothing open enough to justify action. Two days ago I saw legions bearing the heraldry of House Ormenus and House Urieus marching toward Acteus' Gap, where they joined forces with Acteus soldiers in numbers that could not be dismissed as a border exercise.
"Knowing the king had not called the banners, I understood this gathering could only mean conspiracy, so I infiltrated their encampment under illusion and false papers to learn their purpose, moving among supply lines and command tents until I reached the inner circle, and there I overheard discussions of marching on the capital once their full strength assembled. Before I could withdraw I was discovered by warding spells and dragged swiftly before the one who orchestrated it all."
That revelation drew the full attention of everyone present, Meruem included, for the implications were severe and far reaching. The Underworld, while often described in formal doctrine as a pseudo federalist state, functioned in a manner that was far less orderly in practice.
Satan served as the executive authority, enforcing balance and stability through decree and force, while the Elder Council acted as the judicial body, interpreting ancient laws and precedents, and the Lord Council functioned as the legislative arm, drafting statutes that governed devilkind as a whole.
Yet despite this structure, the actual management of territories and the daily governance of the Underworld was deeply feudal in nature.
Each of the seventy two Pillars, though only thirty three remained officially recognized in the present era, ruled over territories of vastly differing size depending on their standing and influence. Some, like House Bael, controlled domains that spanned entire continents, rich in resources and legions, while others ruled lands no larger than a single great nation.
Within their domains, the Pillar Houses were sovereign in full, each maintaining their own vassals, armies, internal laws, and customs, ruling their territory according to their own ideals and ambitions.
No Pillar House was permitted to interfere directly in the domain of another, and while Satan technically possessed the authority to override this restriction, even that power was exercised sparingly due to the catastrophic consequences such interference could provoke.
House Acteus, House Ormenus, and House Urieus stood as the three most powerful vassals sworn to House Beleth, and a significant portion of Beleth's military strength was drawn from the legions they provided, making their allegiance vital to the stability of the realm.
"And who was responsible for all of this?" Hermon asked, his voice hoarse, the strain of grief and shock still raw in his throat.
"The Demonesses of Ruin," the messenger blurted out without hesitation.
A sharp gasp rippled through the chamber, the reaction instinctive and justified. Rebellion by one's own vassals, while dangerous, was hardly unusual in Hell, where betrayal and ambition were second nature to devils. Such acts were expected, planned for, and often survived.
However, interference by another Pillar House within a rival Pillar's domain was an entirely different matter, one that escalated the situation from internal strife into a potential inter Pillar conflict.
Throughout history, such violations had almost always culminated in open war between the offending houses, and preventing precisely such wars was one of the primary duties of the Satans.
As a result, any Pillar House found invading or manipulating the domain of another was punished severely by the Satans regardless of motive or justification.
So what possible reason could Dimora Bael have for consorting with the traitors of Beleth's own realm?
"Dimora Bael?" Athaliah said, shock and a trace of fear slipping into her voice. "Under the Sovereign Domain Edict ratified by Satan Sirzechs Lucifer, it's codified law that no member of a Pillar House may intrude upon the territory, governance, or succession of another Pillar, nor attempt to sway the internal rule of that domain through force, coercion, or political manipulation."
"Doing so would invite the direct wrath of the Satans themselves," Herodias added aloud. "What justification could she possibly claim for such an open transgression against our house?"
"She claims the throne by right of blood and strength, your highness," the messenger replied, his voice trembling.
"Claim the throne?" Meruem asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone as he struggled to understand the connection between Dimora Bael's ambitions and the conspiracies unfolding within his own realm, until a realization began to form.
"It's not the throne of House Bael she's claiming," Morena said quietly, understanding dawning in her eyes.
"You are correct, my queen," the messenger said somberly. "Lady Dimora is claiming the throne of House Beleth."
The audacity of it was staggering. One could not simply assert a claim over any throne in Hell upon the death of a king, least of all the throne of another Pillar House, as such an act constituted usurpation, an offense punishable by death under the legal framework established by the current Satans.
These laws were the very reason weaker Pillar Houses continued to exist despite the overwhelming military superiority of greater houses like Bael, for even conquest by force was forbidden without lawful cause.
This was why House Bael could not openly conquer and absorb lesser Pillar Houses despite having the strength to do so.
Yet the messenger had said she claimed the throne by blood and strength, which meant there had to be a legitimate lineage tie, and that changed everything.
That could only mean one thing, that the blood of Beleth flowed through her veins. If that were true, then the situation could be reframed as an internal succession dispute within House Beleth itself, placing it outside the jurisdiction of the Satans, who would be barred from intervening by their own laws.
"Lady Dimora's grandmother was Iskra Beleth," Morena supplied, her voice steady despite the tension. "She was an aunt to your great grandfather, my son. According to the records, she did not inherit any aspect of the Shrine of Pride and was instead married into House Agares, where she bore a single daughter, Vesta Agares, before falling during the Great War. Vesta herself inherited no bloodline trait of House Beleth. Some years after the war's end, she became the third wife of Oroian Bael, the father of the current head of House Bael, and from that union Dimora Bael was born."
That explained everything, Meruem thought grimly. Dimora Bael possessed a legitimate claim through diluted ancestry, fragile yet valid all the same. It required no great insight to recognize the scheme for what it was - a long calculated effort by House Bael to turn House Beleth into a puppet by installing one of their own blood upon its throne.
And because her claim was lawful, Meruem could not petition the Satans without appearing as a weak ruler incapable of defending his own succession, an image that would only invite further predation.
This conspiracy had likely been centuries, perhaps a millennium, in the making, and Meruem could not help but feel a cold admiration for the patience and foresight required to bring such a plan to fruition.
Politics in the Underworld were infuriating for precisely this reason, as devils lived for ten thousand years or more, and their schemes often took centuries to surface, only becoming visible when it was already too late to prevent them.
He glanced at his mother and was startled to see uncharacteristic fear reflected in her eyes, a sight that surprised him more than the revelation itself. For as long as he had known her, she had carried herself with pride and fearlessness, yet now she trembled beneath her composed exterior, hiding it expertly but failing to conceal it from him.
He was also struck by the depth of her knowledge, realizing that she must have studied every genealogical thread and political vulnerability within their house to safeguard her son's claim, while he himself had remained ignorant of much of his own lineage.
"We have been outplayed," Herodias said, her sharp intellect grasping the situation quickly. "This scheme is far too advanced, and there is little we can do to prevent it at this stage."
"Perhaps a petition could be made to the Satans," Zaeshma Merihem suggested cautiously.
"That would only make my brother appear weak," Herodias replied dismissively. "Her claim is as lawful as his, and what accusation could we even bring against her when she has already secured the allegiance of three of our most powerful vassals."
That silenced any remaining thoughts of inviting Satanic intervention in the succession crisis of House Beleth.
"She could be challenged on the grounds of fitness to rule House Beleth," Hermon said quietly. "Across all her Rating Game battles over the past centuries, she has never shown any sign of inheriting our family's demonic trait, displaying only the power of destruction associated with House Bael. Meruem, however, is the first to inherit the full Shrine of Pride in five centuries, and such an inheritance has always superseded laws of succession, for throughout our history the bearer of the complete Shrine of Pride has without exception been immediately recognized as the rightful heir to House Beleth."
A gentle tap of fingers against polished wood drew every eye at the table toward Belathriel, the soft sound somehow cutting through the heavy air of the chamber, and even Meruem shifted his attention with interest, curious what his younger brother would say in response to Hermon's argument.
"There is no law that explicitly states that a full inheritor of the Shrine of Pride must be named heir," Belathriel said calmly, his tone measured and deliberate. "Nor is there any statute that forbids someone who has not inherited their family's demonic trait from ascending over one who has. In fact, House Bael itself has already established a precedent for precisely such a succession."
"Sairaorg Bael," Morena said aloud, recognition sharpening her voice.
"Exactly," Belathriel replied. "Six months ago, Sairaorg challenged and defeated his younger brother Magdaran Bael in formal succession combat and was recognized as the heir of House Bael, despite having never awakened the Power of Destruction."
The pieces fell into place with unsettling clarity. It suddenly made sense why Lord Bael had never attempted to remove Sairaorg through assassination or some unfortunate accident, despite the apparent affront to tradition.
Allowing someone without the Power of Destruction to become the heir of House Bael over one who had inherited it should have been unthinkable. Sairaorg was undeniably strong, but devil society was built upon bloodlines and demonic traits above all else.
The unique abilities of the seventy two Pillars had been engraved into their blood by Lucifer Morningstar himself, who was to devils what God was to angels.
Those demonic traits were more than powers, as they were symbols of divine selection, proof that a lineage had been chosen by the creator of their race to rule devilkind. Members of the seventy two Pillars who failed to inherit their house's demonic trait were often deemed unworthy, shunned by Lucifer Morningstar, and quietly erased from political relevance.
That was why a Pillar House with no living inheritor of its demonic trait was considered extinct, even if descendants bearing the name still lived. The trait was the core identity of the Pillar, and without it, the house was hollow. To allow someone without that inheritance to rule was akin to appointing an atheist as the supreme pontiff of a faith, yet House Bael had done exactly that by elevating Sairaorg.
They had used him to establish a precedent, laying the groundwork so that Dimora's claim would appear lawful rather than outrageous. Meruem could not help but feel a flicker of admiration at the depth of Zekram's cunning, seeing how even events within another house had been woven seamlessly into a scheme aimed at House Beleth.
If he was to reach his ultimate goal of becoming the suzerain of Hell, he would need to outthink and outmaneuver devils capable of plotting on this scale, and the thought filled him with a strange exhilaration as he imagined the despair on their faces when their centuries of preparation were crushed with ease.
"Sairaorg's situation is different," Hermon insisted, his voice tight with frustration. "He's the direct son of the current head of House Bael, and his claim was far stronger than Dimora's ever could be. She doesn't even bear the surname Beleth, for Satan's sake."
"Which she could adopt at any moment, if she has not done so already," Herodias countered immediately, her sharp gaze fixing on the trembling messenger. "And the fact that you were discovered infiltrating her camp yet spared suggests that she intended you to return alive. She sent you here deliberately as her envoy, did she not?"
The messenger nodded frantically under her scrutiny. "You are correct, your highness," he said quickly. "Lady Dimora commanded me to deliver a letter personally to Queen Morena." He reached into his robes and produced a pale pink envelope sealed with the seven pointed star sigil of House Beleth.
He stepped forward and handed it to the queen, who examined the seal with a dark expression before breaking it and reading the contents in silence, the tension in the chamber thickening with every passing heartbeat.
"And what does the Demoness of Ruin have to say, mother?" Meruem asked calmly, though every pair of eyes in the room remained fixed on her.
Morena lifted her gaze to meet his, anger flashing openly through her composure. "It's a marriage proposal," she said. "Lady Dimora offers to marry Meruem so that both claims may be united and the succession resolved without bloodshed. She states that she and Meruem would rule with equal authority over the lands of Sheol if he agrees, and she demands a response within one week."
Meruem felt a sharp sting of offense at the audacity of her demands.
"She's not even attempting to hide her true goal," Belathriel said, his teeth grinding audibly. "It's painfully obvious that she is pressing her claim because of the rings of power."
"She has no need for subtlety," Morena replied bitterly. "She's an ultimate class devil, among the strongest female devils still living, and she commands a formidable peerage. Compared to her, Meruem hasn't even lived two decades, and many will see him as an untested youth way over his head."
"It's clear that she will provoke a succession war if her desire is denied," Athaliah said evenly. "The question before us is whether we accept her offer or plunge the realm into bloodshed that may consume House Beleth entirely."
"Your highness," Zaeshma Merihem said, addressing Athaliah with careful respect. "Lady Dimora's status as an ultimate class devil, combined with the allegiance of House Acteus, House Ormenus, and House Urieus, grants her both legitimacy and overwhelming manpower. Together, those houses can field legions that rival the full military strength House Beleth can realistically muster. Moreover, I suspect the loyalty of your remaining vassals is far from assured, for few would willingly stand against an ultimate class devil. To do so would be folly."
"Could we not call upon the legions of Maerach Redmane?" Hermon asked hesitantly. "His loyalty is unquestionable, and the forces stationed at the Eye of the Pit possess both the numbers and quality to significantly even the scales."
"Absolutely not," Royson Luvart, the Marshal of the Crown, cut in firmly. "The Pit must never be left understaffed under any circumstances. We have witnessed the consequences of such negligence during the previous civil war. It's a long held belief that the creatures sealed within can sense weakness and will strike should the gate be insufficiently guarded. I trust I need not elaborate on how catastrophic such an event would be, your highness."
Hermon sagged slightly at the rebuke. "Then what are we meant to do?" he asked quietly. "What hope do we have against an ultimate class devil supported by our strongest vassals?"
"We have no realistic chance of victory," Herodias said dispassionately. "Even if we were to summon Maerach's legions along with every force stationed at the Pit, it would still be doubtful. Facing Dimora on the battlefield would be suicide, as her power alone eclipses anything we could reasonably counter."
"What are you suggesting, sister?" Hermon asked, his eyes narrowing.
"I'm saying that we accept her proposal," Herodias replied without hesitation. "If it comes to war, she will prevail without question. Yet she has offered us a path that avoids immediate annihilation, a route that spares House Beleth from destroying itself in futile resistance."
"You would have us submit to a Bael?" Belathriel spat venomously. "Have you already forgotten the fate of House Gremory, who now exist as vassals of House Bael in all but name?"
"Well it's either that or annihilation," Herodias retorted. "I'm being pragmatic here, brother. It's no coincidence that she's pushing her claim now after all those centuries. She wants a piece of Meruem's rings of power. We have somewhat of leverage as she doesn't want to harm Meruem if it can be helped and that gives us room to negotiate."
"And what exactly is there left to negotiate?" Belathriel asked coldly. "The color of our chains, or how many times a day we are expected to lick Lord Bael's boots?"
Meruem was genuinely surprised by his brother's refusal to bow, for he had not expected Belathriel to be the one to let pride and emotion guide his judgment, since he had always appeared logical and sensible in Meruem's eyes, and the realization that he had misjudged him left Meruem faintly amused.
In truth, they were far more alike than Meruem had assumed, sharing the same stubborn core beneath their differing exteriors.
"Do you have a better idea then, brother dearest?" Herodias said mockingly, her lips curling slightly. "Preferably one that doesn't end with us committing seppuku by charging headlong into an ultimate class devil."
"I understand your frustration, Belathriel," Morena said calmly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "Believe me when I say that there is no one who despises the demonesses of ruin more than I do. Still, we must think of the survival of our house first and foremost, and for that reason we must accept her offer, for I see no other viable path."
"Oh, but there is," Belathriel said defiantly, his posture straightening as he met Meruem's gaze without hesitation. "Brother, I have sworn to follow you wherever you lead me. Will you hear my counsel before you make your decision?"
Meruem gestured for him to continue with a faint smile, curiosity stirring as he wondered what solution his proud brother intended to put forth.
"Dimora sees the value of the Rings of Power, let her," Belathriel said. "She's far from the only one, because there are countless lords in Hell who would go to extreme lengths to obtain even a single ring, and that hunger can be turned into a weapon for us, since other Pillar Houses are already watching us closely and searching for a way to bind themselves to you, and lords like Astaroth would gladly offer their daughters in marriage if it meant gaining a connection to your power."
"You intend to form marriage alliances with other Pillar Houses in order to isolate Dimora," Meruem summarized calmly.
"No," Belathriel replied, his voice sharpening as he shook his head. "I propose using marriage alliances to deliberately provoke a second civil war."
A ripple of shock moved through the chamber at his words, several councilors straightening in their seats.
"You could, for instance, marry Latia Astaroth," Belathriel continued without pause. "That union would bind House Astaroth to us by blood, making them invested in keeping you on the throne. They would have both the incentive and the justification to intervene militarily within our domain, and because they would be family by marriage, the satans would have no lawful grounds to object."
"That seems sound at first glance," Herodias said thoughtfully. "Yet it collapses the moment you consider that House Bael can do the same for Dimora. She's Lord Bael's half sister, which gives them the same justification. How do you intend to prevent that?"
"Who said I want to prevent it?" Belathriel replied with a grin that sent a chill through the room. "I want House Bael to involve itself, because it inevitably will once another Pillar House interferes. We have three boys and two girls of suitable age who can be married off to secure alliances with other great houses, and those houses, much like Astaroth in this hypothetical, would gain the same familial justification to support us. House Bael would respond in kind, calling upon its own allies and pupeets to counterbalance our forces, and before long more than a dozen of the great Pillar Houses would be dragged into escalating chaos that could no longer be contained."
Meruem found himself deeply impressed by his brother's cold pragmatism, for Belathriel had not hesitated to offer himself and their siblings alike as bargaining chips to purchase loyalty through marriage, setting aside all personal sentiment for the sake of strategy.
"You intend to create chaos on such a scale that the satans would be forced to intervene," Athaliah realized, her expression brightening slightly as the implications became clear.
"Exactly," Belathriel said. "House Bael has the ears of the satans, and as long as this remains small and discreet they will turn a blind eye. However once multiple Pillar Houses are entangled, the situation would threaten to spiral into another civil war, and the satans would have no choice but to act. They would then be forced to impose a diplomatic solution to the succession dispute, perhaps through a vote by the Lord Council or the noble houses, and we could use the rings of power and our political influence to ensure the outcome favors us."
Silence followed his proposal, heavy and stunned, as many among the high council struggled to process both the audacity and the brilliance of Belathriel's plan.
Then Meruem laughed, a sudden, unrestrained sound that echoed through the chamber as he laughed for nearly a full minute, overcome by a mix of delight and disbelief. He had not expected such a comprehensive and plausible strategy from someone so young, and the contrast with the former Meruem's dismissive view of Belathriel struck him sharply.
The previous Meruem had considered his brother dull and lacking in cunning, and the soul that now inhabited his body had not known Belathriel long enough to form its own judgment. To discover now that his brother possessed such intelligence and ruthlessness filled him with genuine joy, for it meant he was not alone, that he had found someone capable of standing beside him as a true right hand.
"Brilliant," Meruem said at last, his laughter subsiding into a wide smile. "Simply brilliant, brother. Your suggestion is excellent, yet I cannot accept it."
Belathriel stared at him in genuine surprise, whether caused by the praise, the sincerity behind it, or the use of brother instead of half brother, it was difficult to tell, though the expression it produced was undeniably amusing.
"May I ask why, brother?" he said, tasting the word carefully.
"Of course you may," Meruem replied merrily. "I can't accept your plan, despite having full faith that it would succeed, for a very simple reason."
He paused, deliberately, letting the silence stretch as every eye in the chamber fixed upon him.
"Dimora killed our father," Meruem continued, his voice turning suddenly cold. "Or, at the very least, she conspired to see him dead alongside Lord Urieus. And that, brother, I cannot forgive."
A murmur rippled through the room, but Meruem raised a hand, silencing it without effort.
"Now don't get me wrong," he said. "She may push her claim as is her right. She may even, Satan forbid, hope of winning. But she may not live, not if I have any say on the matter. She may not see her ambition come to fruition. To take a father from his children, to sever the root from which a house draws its strength, this is the worst of crimes. One from which there is no absolution. Some acts place a soul beyond the grace of ordinary life. Dimora has committed such an act. And for that reason, that reason alone, your plan, however brilliant, cannot be accepted."
Silence greeted his declaration, the weight of his intent settling heavily upon those present.
"What do you intend to do then, brother?" Athaliah asked calmly. "Whatever you decide, you will have my full support."
"My father is dead," Meruem said calmly. "murdered by traitors and cowards. Vengeance calls me hence, for every breath those conspirators still draw is an insult to me and his memory. My enemies feast and conspire against our downfall, and very well, I will give them what they desire."
Meruem rose from his seat and met the eyes of each individual within the room. "Let them have war! I will answer treachery with steel, conspiracy with fire, and ambition with conquest. Let them gather their allies and prepare their defenses. I will tear down every banner raised in defiance and grind their strongholds into dust. I will crown myself amid the ruins of their ashes and the screams of their widows."
AN: Zekram's plan was brilliant. Dimora, being an Ultimate-class devil, would easily subdue Meruem and turn him into her puppet, only he miscalculated how powerful Meruem is.
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