After leaving Celestial Brews, Arthur stepped through the swirling vortex of the {Gate}, erging into the dark marble corridors of Nazarick.
Waiting just beyond the portal was Aurora, her arms crossed and expression tense. For once, the ever-calm aura around her was cracked—her violet eyes sharp with a rare blend of fury and contempt.
"Where is he?" Arthur asked, his voice quiet but firm.
"He's currently being healed by Lupusregina," Aurora replied, falling in step beside him. "Albedo is with them."
They walked in silence for a few paces before Arthur asked the question he already dreaded the answer to.
"How did this happen?"
"We haven't questioned him yet," Aurora said, jaw tightening. "But we all know who's responsible. If you give us the word… we'll rectify this disgrace ourselves."
Though her tone was calm, the anger in her eyes was unmistakable. Disgust laced her voice—an emotion rarely seen on her face.
Arthur didn't answer imdiately. His silence was telling.
He wore no anger, only a quiet sorrow.
A deep, familiar ache.
When they arrived at the chamber, the thick doors opened soundlessly, revealing the room bathed in warm magical light. Lupusregina was finishing her healing spell, her hands glowing in soft golden hues as she worked over Demiurge's injuries. Albedo stood beside the bed, arms folded, brows furrowed in concern.
Demiurge, always the embodint of calm cunning, looked a bit worn. His tail rested still behind him, a subtle sign of tension. When the three saw Arthur enter, they instinctively moved to kneel.
"Enough," Arthur said firmly, halting them mid-motion. "We have more important matters right now."
All three stood straight, attentive.
Arthur approached the bed, his eyes fixed on Demiurge.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Thanks to Lupusregina's skill," Demiurge replied, adjusting his glasses slightly, "I've returned to peak condition, my lord."
Arthur gave a small nod. Then ca the question. Cold. Direct.
"Who did this to you?"
There was a pause. Brief, but heavy.
"…It was Throximus."
Arthur's son.
The silence that followed wasn't a surprise—it was confirmation.
No one reacted outwardly. Because they all known.
From the beginning, the enemy, which Rory, Albedo, and Aurora said was his own flesh and blood. The ones who spread the rumors about him on the supernatural side, the reason why Albedo, Aurora, Rory, and Esdeath were in Kouh Academy—all that is to protect him from his own children.
"Tell how this happened. In detail."
Demiurge bowed his head slightly, gathering his words.
"I was in the process of gathering rare materials for my latest experint, my lord," Demiurge began. His voice was composed, but there was an undercurrent of frustration beneath the surface.
"As you know, many of the resources required are... exceedingly difficult to acquire through conventional ans."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"For added security, I was accompanied by Evil Lord Wrath," he continued. "Given the sensitive nature of the materials, I did not wish to risk unexpected interruptions."
Arthur nodded once, indicating he should continue.
"I had just completed the harvest of the necessary ingredients. We were preparing to return to Nazarick when... without warning, a dinsional gate opened directly onto our location."
Demiurge's hands tightened behind his back.
"It was not a random breach. It was precisely coordinated. Through that gate stepped Throximus—fully ard and wearing battle attire I did not recognize."
A thin crackle of dark energy shimred in the air as Demiurge spoke the next words.
"Before either I or Evil Lord Wrath could react, Throximus drew a weapon—a blade I instantly recognized. Billion Black."
Arthur's expression hardened.
He knew that blade as well.
A Divine-Class weapon forged in Nazarick itself, imbued with the terrifying ability to ignore all forms of physical and magical defense.
Demiurge continued, "He moved with lethal precision. In a single stroke, he slew Evil Lord Wrath. There was no ti to counterattack; it was a clean kill."
Albedo and Aurora exchanged a grim look, but said nothing.
"Imdiately after," Demiurge said, voice lowering further, "he drove Billion Black into my back."
Arthur felt a flicker of cold fury spark in his chest.
"Billion Black bypassed my defensive wards completely. The attack was intended to be fatal." Demiurge's face twisted slightly, in rare emotion. "Furthermore, a powerful Dinsional Lock was already in place—designed to prevent from escaping via teleportation."
Even with such ticulous planning, Demiurge still lived.
He straightened, pride barely hidden behind his composed mask. "Despite my lack of physical prowess compared to the other Guardians, I was able to resist. My Lord, even in such dire conditions, Throximus could not kill ."
Arthur could see it clearly now: the betrayal had been cold, calculated, and nearly perfect.
"And what did he say?" Arthur asked, voice like steel.
Demiurge's crimson eyes glead dangerously behind his glasses.
"After he stabbed ," he said, "he leaned down and whispered, 'With this, Father, the rebellion begins.'"
The room fell into a heavy, oppressive silence.
Arthur closed his eyes briefly, gathering the fury boiling beneath his calm facade.The rebellion had begun not with declarations or armies—but with blood.His son's first move had been to strike at the very foundation of Nazarick's order.
It would not be forgiven.
It would not be forgotten.
This was no longer simply a matter of betrayal.
It was a war within his own house.
And he would answer it accordingly.
❌❌❌
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