DXD SI : Chapter 2 (Patreon)

A/N - Brief Mention of rape/non consensual sex

Clan Head Office, Bael Territory

–Zephyr Bael–

He was rifling through the weekly reports about the clan’s massive business networks, just as a show. He didn’t really do much about the reports. The clan had people for that. And just the Bael name was enough for the employees to make sure that work was done on time and in the manner it was supposed to.

No one was brave and stupid enough to betray the Great King faction, no matter how strong they might think of themselves. He smirked as he was reminded of the last time he had to make a public example of the last employee who tried to smuggle one of the reports outside the Bael Territory. It was fun watching the man scream, cry, and thrash as he slowly and meticulously destroyed his body, making sure that he did not die instantly.

If one knew what one was doing, one could do surprising damage to a Devil and still keep them alive. Something he had learned over the long years he had spent in the Dungeons, refining his techniques. After all, he was the one who was chosen by their Ancestor to lead the Bael Clan. He was the one who had inherited the spirit of destruction that ran in the blood of every member of the Bael Clan. 

He scoffed as he dropped the stack of papers on the desk, reminded of the pathetic members of his Clan. Venelana came to mind. So much power, far stronger than him in both technique and raw power, and what did that amount to? The woman couldn’t even have the basic decency of passing down the proper Bael values to her spawn, even if she herself had spat in the face of traditions passed down within the clan since Lucifer created the Pillar Devils.

He was not like her, not like the other members of the Clan. He was going to raise his heir properly, with all the values that were expected from a member of the Bael Clan, a name that symbolised destruction in the Underworld. 

Speaking of his heir, he was reminded of a child he’d sired with one of the maids. He had drunk one too many dragon ales that day and had stumbled into his office at night, when it was cleaned by the maids. 

His vision had been blurry so he didn’t even see who it was. He’d just done his business and went back to his bedroom, uncaring of the state of the maid who lay on the table, unmoving.

It was only a few months later that the Head Maid approached him with news that should, by all rights, be happy news. 

The maid was pregnant with his heir. A son.

Sure, the woman was a low class devil, but she was not one of those reincarnated fakes, and as such, was barely passable stock to give birth to the next heir of the Bael Clan. Devil fertility being what it was, any child was a blessing, no matter the source. 

Alas, after the baby was delivered, he had none of the characteristics he expected from someone who came from his seed. His firstborn! He expected him to have an exceptional body, demonic reserves, and more importantly, the Power of Destruction clear at birth, just like the pretender who masquerades as Lucifer.

He was disappointed, but that was expected. After all, what could a child born from low quality stock even amount to? Still, the baby was of Bael Blood, and even if he showed no signs of the famed Power of Destruction right now, he could awaken it in the future. No matter how weak, each devil was an addition to their forces, especially since this one was not born from the fake devils. They were best suited to be cannon fodder, not raising the next generation of the Devil race.

Just like how he didn’t want that maid to be the one raising his spawn, even if he himself was not interested in even looking at the brat as long as he did not show promise. He wanted a son with more potential and the maid out of the picture. Sure, he could have just as easily have her ordered to the numerous other properties in the Bael Territory and removed any records of her being the birth mother, or if need be, remove her as well, but why waste perfectly good stock when he could make use of her to elevate his son?

He stumbled upon some of the Lucifuge Clan experimental records in the library, and in one of them, was a rather novel ritual that, if executed properly and with the necessary intent, could produce some rather spectacular results.

A mother’s love, and her willingness to sacrifice her life, emotions, vitality, and soul over a long period of time, all so her son could gain potential, was not a ritual that would be used by any sane Devil in the underworld. For one, it killed a perfectly alive devil for mere potential in the baby. 

It was deemed a failure as the end result remained the same, a devil for a devil. Powerful Devils would never be sacrificed for a baby who might become powerful, and the low class spawn dying would never create a baby who could become exceptionally strong, with the supposed enhanced potential.

No, the underworld needed powerful devils to create more powerful devils. Not give birth to one and die in the vain hopes that the spawn might become strong sometime in the future. That was not how the Devil society worked, for the most part.

By chance, he had stumbled upon the chance to make use of the ritual. All factors lined up perfectly for him. Even if the woman was of low stock, he was sure that his spawn was going to be strong, and if the woman could bump up the ceiling of power a little bit at the cost of her life, all the better.

In the end, he would get what he wanted. 

He looked up as the door opened up, revealing his secretary, who looked at him with a neutral look on her face. A professional through and through, a Devil he had seized from one of their many vassal clans, someone who was the reason he could spend half his time like this. Just sitting in his office, thinking of more important stuff than paperwork.

“The last ritual is done, Zephyr-sama. New staff should be in place soon.” She reported in the same emotionless tone. He nodded, clearly pleased with her work. She had been the one who approached the maid and convinced her of the ritual.

The ritual was the reason he couldn’t risk anyone else stumbling upon the brat. The effect of rituals, at least in the early stages, would be plainly visible to anyone who was half decent, and there was a reason the ritual was forbidden. He was the Lord, so there would never be any repercussions, but the fools in the government might raise a tantrum, and he did not want to waste precious resources fending off their endless questions. 

After all, they couldn’t do anything but send in strongly worded letters. It was ironic. Despite being the strongest Devil alive, Sirzechs Gremory was arguably weaker than many devils simply because of his unwillingness to use that vast power, preferring to use weak and useless methods such as diplomacy.

Bah! They were Devils for a reason.

Shaking his head, he ordered her, “Make sure to dispose of the body properly. The ritual will leave a mark on her corpse. Also, isolate the brat for a few weeks. We wouldn’t want—” His words died in his throat, his neck snapping to the side, to the East Wing where the brat was kept, in one of the isolated rooms.

It was decided to keep the brat hidden in plain sight, in a place that only the maids went to, perfectly hidden from sight, and since no one of note ever entered that place, it was deemed the best place to hide a baby that was under the effects of a forbidden ritual.

That same wing was also now the origin of demonic power lashing out. A flicker of crimson turned his face from wariness to happiness as he immediately flew out of his office, to see his son.

Yes, there would be repercussions for this, heavy ones, especially with his wife, but that could be dealt with later on. She could easily be placated with the assurance of her son being the heir. After all, the more devils the better, and if her son failed to surpass the son of a low born woman, then it was her fault.

He would either get a powerful heir or a powerful heir born from proper stock.

Either way, he won.

His eyes widened at the hole that was punched through the ceiling of the wing. He flew into the hole, and smiled to see the baby, passed out, in a perfect circle in the ground, with not a sign of the woman who was supposed to be visiting him. Another problem that was solved on its own.

Perfect.