Chapter 506 – Legality and Legacy
The coffee was getting cold.
Didn’t matter.
He sat there a while longer, letting the background noise fade. Letting the calculations sharpen in his mind.
He’d need to reroute security. Maybe activate a dormant AI sector to monitor relic disturbances. Bribe a few old curse-smiths to analyze the barrier’s threads. Ask Sira. See if the Pride sector had any archive records on Seredor’s personal bindings. Sothing.
Anything.
Because if Seredor protected Zoltarin from death, then Lux needed to find out what Seredor couldn’t protect him from.
Everyone had a price. Even ghosts.
"I need to sue my grandfather..." he muttered coldly.
Did he dare to do it?
Yes.
But the problem was—it was pointless.
He was the only young Vaelthorn left. Eventually, everything would fall into his hands. The family na. The holdings. The throne, if it ca to that.
So suing Seredor?
It wouldn’t fix anything.
It wouldn’t stop the barrier.
And it wouldn’t erase the fact that the sa man who raised them all had already chosen his favorite.
Worse... he left the rest of them to bleed in silence.
Lux tched under his breath.
It wasn’t about legality.
It was about legacy.
And Seredor still owned it. Even from the grave.
Lux stood up, slow, setting the empty mug on the table like it was a chess piece too.
Then he smoothed his suit, adjusted his cuffs, and turned toward the hall.
Enough coffee.
Ti to make his move.
The hall outside the pantry was quieter now. Less whispers. More people pretending to work. Good. He didn’t need more questions, or worse, sympathy. He took the private lift straight to the executive sector, past the blacksteel security gates etched with gold sigils that scanned aura signatures on entry.
The floor vibrated faintly when the doors opened.
Greed’s sector always did that. Like the walls themselves were alive. Watching. asuring.
He walked past the glowing Vault Archives, past the infernal blueprint halls and the eting chambers no one used unless summoned by blood contract. Down the long hallway that led to the Lord’s personal office.
His father’s office.
The massive doors opened before he touched them.
Inside... he froze.
Zavros Vaelthorn was... working.
Like, actually working.
Not pacing with wine. Not lounging in velvet talking about diplomacy. Not giving off that high-tier demon king aura of soone who never had to touch his datapad because soone else would do it for him.
No.
He was seated.
At his desk.
Eyes focused. Fingers moving across a holo-screen of open projections—financial sheets, infernal security logs, relic activity pulses. He looked like... a CFO.
And next to him...
Seraphyne.
Lux’s mother.
Wearing a silk dress that probably cost more than so mortal city blocks, sleeves rolled up, horns pinned back with erald clips, fingers flipping through mana-imbued ledgers like a damn professional assistant-wife hybrid.
She even had glasses on.
The fucking pink ones.
Lux just stared.
It felt like he’d walked into a parallel tiline where he was the spoiled brat and his parents were the high-functioning adult power couple running Hell’s entire economic sector.
"What the actual f—" Lux muttered under his breath.
Zavros glanced up, totally casual. "Lux. Co in."
Seraphyne looked up too, and her face imdiately lit up like a cat seeing her favorite toy. "Co to hug, mama," she said, rising smoothly.
Lux blinked. "Wait—what?"
And then she wrapped him in a full frontal hug. Arms around his neck. Hips pressed forward. Sweet myrrh perfu hitting his nose with full nostalgia impact.
She pet his hair. "My poor baby. We are sorry for abandoning you."
"I—no. What? No." Lux just stood there, frozen. "Can we not do this right now?"
She cooed. "You always say that when you need cuddles."
"I do not—"
Zavros cleared his throat pointedly.
Seraphyne finally let go. Sort of. One hand stayed on his shoulder like she wasn’t convinced he was done being babied.
Lux sighed and looked at his father. "So. I need your help."
Zavros leaned back in the chair. "You an you want sothing."
"Sa difference."
"Go on."
Lux adjusted his cuffs again. Habit. "I need you to take back to the tower."
Zavros’s gaze sharpened. "Why?"
Lux exhaled. "Because apparently you can’t kill him."
Seraphyne tilted her head. "Kill who?"
"Zoltarin."
Zavros’s eyes narrowed slightly. He didn’t say anything.
Lux kept going. "I talked to the King. And apparently, Grandpa Seredor made a deal with him. That as long as Zoltarin didn’t attack the throne, Kaelmor wouldn’t interfere. So... yeah. Grandpa’s still annoying even after death."
Zavros grunted. "He was annoying before death too."
Lux smirked a little. Then sobered. "But here’s the problem. That barrier that protected Zoltarin. That was Grandpa’s. Not his. Not yours. And if it stopped , then odds are it’ll stop you too."
Zavros leaned forward. "So what do you want?"
"I want us—no, we—to reinforce the barrier. From the outside."
Zavros’s brows lifted a little.
"And post so guards. Scouts. Sothing. Because if we can’t kill him, then at least we’ll know when he tries to crawl out of his hole."
Seraphyne made a little sound. "You want to trap your uncle like a rat."
"He is a rat."
Zavros actually smiled. Just faintly. "I can do that."
"Great."
"Give ten seconds."
"I’ll prep," Lux said, stepping back as Zavros stood.
The Lord of Greed reached for his ring. The air shimred when he activated it.
And then—
They vanished.
Arrival wasn’t gentle.
They stood at the entrance now.
Still sealed. Still pulsing with layered magic.
Lux inhaled.
Zavros stepped forward imdiately, fingers splayed. A thick ring of sigils blood beneath his boots.
"I’ll handle the seals," he said, voice all Lord now.
Lux nodded. "Go ahead."
And then he stepped back.
Because unlike his father, Lux wasn’t old blood.
He was new era. Next-gen.
He didn’t fix things with power. Not only power.
He did it with infrastructure.
Lux reached into his dinsional inventory, and the system whispered around his fingertips like silk and static.
[Item Retrieved: Hollow Core Archons]
[Class: Epic-Tier]
Three spheres floated out of the dinsional rip.
Black-gold. Each one the size of a large fist. Engraved with shifting rings of code and etched mana channels. Pulsing with low-frequency hums that rippled in Lux’s bones.
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