Chapter 669 – Pressure Will Shape You
The old seal that bound Zoltarin was flickering.
Not from power.
From the Overlord’s claim.
Lux turned back to the Abyssal figure. "You think putting pressure on will break ."
"No," the Overlord said simply. "We believe pressure will shape you."
Lux grinned.
"Cute."
Then he straightened his cuffs, fixed the lapel of his three-piece suit, and let his aura flare for the first ti inside this core.
Pure Greed.
Brilliant gold light burned behind him like molten sunlight breaking through a coffin.
"No one," Lux said softly, "uses my na for free."
He held out a hand.
"Now let’s renegotiate."
The Overlord stared for a long ti.
Then slowly...
It smiled. Just slightly.
And the air trembled again.
But not from threat.
From interest.
Because Lux Vaelthorn wasn’t just a na on a bloodline anymore.
He was a player.
Lux stepped forward, hands calmly clasped behind his back like he was walking into a boardroom and not an ancient abyssal trap. His wings flicked slightly behind him, the golden veins glowing faintly in the core’s eternal twilight. This place shouldn’t have had gravity. Shouldn’t have had rules. But Lux was here. And rules?
He bent them.
He negotiated them.
"Fifty million’s soul credits," Lux said casually, circling slowly around the phantom projection of Zoltarin’s final seal. "But let’s start where all good things start: liquidation."
The Overlord didn’t move.
"I’ll offer you seventeen million in contracted soul-chits," Lux continued, tapping one finger against his thigh in thought. "Tier 2 and 3 only, no fraud cases, all properly notarized by Infernal Banking Authority. Verified by Greed’s Vault."
Silence.
No reaction.
Lux tilted his head.
"Alright. Let’s talk land." He smiled thinly. "I have rights to a dormant realm pocket in the Lust Sector. Stable environnt. Good potential for influence farming. A little cursed, but nothing a Dominion burnoff won’t fix. That alone is worth—"
"Declined," the Overlord said flatly, its voice a tectonic rumble.
Lux raised an eyebrow but didn’t flinch. "Didn’t even hear the rest of the offer."
"No need."
"Alright." He inhaled. "Let’s get personal."
He pulled sothing from the inside of his jacket. A sealed relic case.
"I have two bloodline artifacts," Lux said smoothly, holding the case with care. "One from Greed. One from Lust. Both forged by Hell’s Pri Crafters. Signed by my grandfather, dated Pre-Reckoning."
He tossed the case mid-air. It floated in front of them, opened itself with a soft click, and revealed two glowing sigils sealed in molten glass.
Any normal demon would’ve salivated.
The Overlord?
Didn’t blink.
"Still insufficient," it said.
Lux narrowed his eyes.
"You don’t want to negotiate," he said finally. "That’s the point, isn’t it?"
"Correct."
It didn’t gloat.
It just stood there.
Unshakable.
Because it never intended to deal.
The entire thing... every clause, every projection, every ancient term... it wasn’t a debt collection.
It was a trap.
Lux slowly exhaled through his nose, fingers flexing at his sides as the tension under his skin began to shift. He wasn’t scared. He didn’t crack. But inside?
He felt it.
That familiar itch.
That dangerous whisper that rose from the pit of his demonic spine whenever soone underestimated him.
Whenever soone thought they could box in a Vaelthorn and walk away richer.
"You dragged all the way to your core," Lux said, voice quieter now. Sharper. "To trap . Not to talk. Not to collect."
"Correct."
Lux gave a slow, humorless smile. "Because you thought this was your chance. You thought the grandson of Lust, the son of Greed, all dressed up in pretty suits and surrounded by high-class consorts, would be soft."
"You are powerful," the Overlord said. "But young. Predictable. Overconfident."
"And yet," Lux said, finally turning fully toward the being, "here I am."
The pressure around him increased.
The core shifted, space tightening like a black hole compressing.
The Overlord lifted a clawed hand, and the mist began to swirl into chains.
Thick. Heavy. Crawling with abyssal runes.
"I will claim your bloodline," the Overlord said calmly. "Your mory will be absorbed into the ledger. Your assets will revert to the Deep Bank. Your soul..."
The chains lunged.
Lux didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t panic.
He just smiled.
Then laughed.
Laughed.
A low, rich, golden laugh that echoed through the hollow void with audacity.
The Overlord paused.
Its claw froze mid-air, chains twitching like snakes confused by their prey not running.
"...Why are you laughing."
Lux straightened his jacket slowly.
Still smiling.
"Oh," he said. "You poor, ancient, boring bastard."
He stepped forward, aura spiking.
Not subtly.
Not defensively.
But offensively.
With intent.
"You thought dragging here gave you the upper hand. You thought, in your little banker brain, that pulling to the core of your being, your seat of power... ant I’d be vulnerable."
The Overlord didn’t respond. But its aura flickered, just barely.
Lux’s grin widened. His horns shimred with a sickly halo of infernal gold.
"But see, I’ve read your books," Lux said, casually flicking his fingers. "I know your systems. Your equations. Your failsafes. You think I’m at a disadvantage here?"
His eyes glead with sothing deadly.
"No."
He lifted his hand.
And the glow in his palm wasn’t gold.
It was black.
Twisted.
Beautiful.
And shaped like a dagger made from condensed Dominion energy and sealed CFO willpower.
"I ca here," Lux whispered, "to kill you from the inside."
The mont the words left his mouth, the dagger manifested...
And the ledger around them shuddered.
For the first ti, the Overlord stepped back.
"You—"
"—Knew this was a trap the mont you didn’t even ask for collateral." Lux’s voice cut like blades now. "You never negotiate. You collect. You devour. But you’re old. Stale. You didn’t notice how many system loopholes I activated the mont I entered your core."
Lux’s voice dropped to a near growl. "You let in, you idiot."
The greed dagger pulsed.
The entire core shook.
Chains recoiled.
"You have no exit," the Overlord warned.
"I planted a save point," Lux said, "I can reload."
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