7 Abyssal Monarch

"...I hate thoughtless rage. I can feel your flames. They are vicious, cruel and full of malice." The words cut through the tension between Henry and Byleth.

The calm yet eerie voice had come from the bonfire that was finally dying down.

"I hate it because it reminds me of a time when I was like that. Before I was reborn as Valerian, I bore many names, but one that held more sway than most was Samael Razel Sheba, Lord of Darkness."

The last of Byleth's flames died out and Valerian stood in the same position perfectly safe, utterly untouched by the fires.

The name Valerian mentioned made Byleth cringe.

All kings of Hell knew that name. Even fallen kings heard that name from the Demon Lords of Hell when they were crowned.

Byleth's pride evaporated.

"I would like to think I am not the great dark blood devourer I once was. To think that now, I am Valerian Erebus Jata. I wish to be neutral in all affairs that do not concern me."

"Lord Samael..." Byleth began but a condemning look from the vampire's changed eyes silenced him. "Lord Valerian..." Byleth corrected himself.

"Be quiet." Valerian spoke. His voice heavily coated in annoyance and danger. "I have not thoroughly enjoyed a single moment since I have been awake and your appalling manners have worsened my mood."

Valerian's eyes had turned completely black, a vast contrast to his silver and white hair. Short, red veins grew around his eyes almost reaching his black eyebrows and his nostrils.

The vampire now looked like the true demon in that wood.

Henry Duma, whose existence had all been but forgotten fell to the ground. His will and strength abandoning him.

"Why...why are you here?" he managed to ask.

Byleth at that moment hated the Duma family infinitely more. This family had brought him endless troubles and it now had brought him to his own death.

"I came here to stretch my body after my long sleep." A wicked smile appeared on his face. "Yet now, I forced to restrain Samael. I need your silence or flood of blood will engulf this continent."

The internal struggle inside Valerian was deeper than words could emphasise.

If he was at full strength, he would not have this issue. But he had only woken up a few days ago and his current self was fighting one of his older personas.

He did not have the power to activate the Clostra. The Clostra were the seven seals of Enoch that were designed to keep his emotions and sanity in check while also modulating his power.

"I was the incarnation of evil." The dark veins around his face began to retreat. "I choose to be who I am now."

The devastating abyss that had become his eyes began to fade. His former identity had been suppressed. The inner battle had been won. For now.

"I became a person of glory, righteousness, cunning and virtue. The nobility system was my creation. The nobles guide the less gifted and I made the Order of Nobilitas to enforce the essence of being a true noble.

"With them, I was able to control my worst instincts and tried to be everything I asked them to be."

This all sounded like gibberish but it was history. Valerian was mostly thinking out loud then turned his head towards the Archduke and the noble son of House Duma. His voice full of pride and arrogance.

"I became Nobilitas Rex or, if you wish, the Noble king and only by reminding myself of that, am I able to tame the real 'demons' I share my body with. To see that you two are what has become of the noble system fills me with sorrow and a sense of failure."

Valerian's next words held no malice. They were spoken as a complete irrefutable fact.

"I am no longer the noble I once was, but who I am now still chooses to be noble in all things. I am Valerian and you sirs have offended me." He raised his hand. "[Blood Chrysalis]"

A wave of energy shot out of Valerian's body. Byleth shielded himself while Henry was paralysed by fear.

This was not like any other vampire he had ever met, seen or studied.

A large, red semi-transparent cocoon encased the entire wood. This was the effect of [Blood Chrysalis].

Whatever happened inside, no matter how intense as long as it did not break the cocoon, would not pour out into the world.

"Byleth..." Val began to speak.

"I...I surrender. I...wish to serve. I will bend the knee. I will make the blood oath. Spare me."

Byleth who had long since returned to his original form was pleading.

No trace of his former sophistication remained.

"Why would I accept that?" The vampire asked earnestly.

"Lord...my Lord, you wish not to give in to your bloodlust. You wish to be neutral. Spare me and accept me as your servant...slave even and let me live. Teach me to be a noble."

Byleth felt his reasoning was sound and he almost meant what he said but a part of him was still looking for a way to escape and tell his father of the return of Origio.

"Foolishness." This was the only word that left Valerian's mouth.

A pressure began to surround him.

No, the pressure was coming from him.

His hair subtly glowed first then his skin.

Multiple colours seemed to radiate from Valerian's body.

The colours merged and formed a brilliant white light that appeared ultimately Holy and Just, a light that could chase away all shadows.

Then the white light changed again. This time it was black. Unbelievably black. It was darkness. Calm, quiet and controlled.

This light was malevolent, yet also kind. Powerful, yet inviting. Intimidating and yet subtle.

It was a darkness never seen by those who lived in the modern era.

This aura was solely held by Valerian and justly called [Abyssal Monarch].

It was why Valerian's subjects called him, "Dark Radiance".

[Abyssal Monarch] did not chase away shadows. It devoured them.

The inexplicable light it radiated did not offer a candle of hope to overcome darkness, it beckoned you to join it.

This aura was against the laws of nature, the laws of the world and the universe.

Valerian was a black hole calling everything into himself without remorse or sympathy.

"What the hell?!" Henry screamed. He cried.

He began to scratch himself like his body had a thousand small insects biting and crawling all over him. He scratched himself bloody.

"Unclean. I am unclean. The voices say I am unworthy. I am filthy. Filthy. Filthy. Unclean." he muttered over and over.

Byleth was no better. His black fur had turned grey.

"Unclean. Unworthy. Unclean. Unworthy." He repeated almost religiously. "Unclean. Unworthy. Unclean." Byleth's nails grew into talons.

He raised his fingers to his throat. He did not resist. His mind had been eroded.

He tore out his own throat with a deranged smile but he did not look away from Lord Jata as he did it.

As blue and black blood flowed onto his white suit, he fell onto both knees.

The flames in his eyes died out revealing two crystal blue irises. His eyes full of hope.

The question they seemed to ask was, 'Am I worthy now?'. The demon's question was never answered though.

Byleth, former demon king and Archduke of Hell bleed out and died in the middle of a nowhere forest, near a nowhere village.

Henry Duma had already died too. At some point, the foolish child had grabbed a rock and bashed his own skull repeatedly.

The handsome noble was no longer recognisable.

Valerian sighed. 'It is never easy to watch.' He thought to himself. He recalled his aura.

"[Purify]" another skill of Valerian's. The land returned to normal. Perhaps even better than before.

The red cocoon that surrounded the wood shattered.

A swarm of bats flew into the sky, and another fifteen large bats flew up from the edge of the wood to join the swarm then disappeared into the night.

Two bodies, the son of a count and the son of a king lay nearly side by side, never to see the sun rise again.