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Chapter 599: Pact of Hell
"A Devil under BairPower's dominion must be compelled to sign a Pact with a specific Imperial Citizen, granting the latter the Strength of Hell."
It was this very clause from the Imperial Alliance Treaty with the Bair Faction that allowed the Devil to detect the loophole.
On the surface, it seemed the Bair were being forced to hand over their Hellish power freely to Imperial Citizens—yet the room for interpretation was vast.
Whether it was a lapse by mortals or not, the term "Pact" here carried no special stipulations, no annotations. It was left entirely open to the Devil’s discretion.
In a conventional Demon Pact, the one who gains Hellish power pays with their very Spiritual Soul. For Bair, the Spiritual Soul of an Elite Warrior from the Empire of Ashen was a treasure beyond measure.
Dragons, however, cared more for material form and flesh than for spiritual essence. Few dragons truly cared where their followers’ souls ended up.
And the more Imperial Citizens who signed Pacts with the Devil, the more Spiritual Souls Bair could harvest.
As this thought crossed his mind, a subtle smile curled at the edge of Bair’s lips. His pale, deceptively innocent face betrayed the cunning behind the grin.
After all, these are just backwater mortals of the Prime Material Plane. They don’t understand the true essence of a Pact like we Devils do.
By the time Bair claimed the Spiritual Soul of an Imperial Citizen, the Empire itself—already bound by the Pact—could no longer renege.
But agreeing too quickly might raise suspicion.
So Bair feigned deep consideration, scanning the document multiple times before speaking again.
He pointed at the pages filled with dense text, then theatrically pulled out a pair of spectacles and adjusted them on the bridge of his nose.
"King Kai Xiusu," he said, voice smooth and measured, "with my millennia of work-experience point accumulation, I must say several clauses within this Pact still require negotiation. Consider, for instance, Article 76, Article 121, and Article 134..."
Yet the Red Dragon remained silent, merely nodding toward Lanpu. In response, the Ogre swiftly produced a Communication Device.
Instantly, dozens of suited, briefcase-carrying Players marched out of the Royal Palace in perfect formation—clearly well-prepared.
The first among them—a gaunt man with thinning hair and deep-set dark circles—stepped forward, offering a protocol-perfect smile and extending his right hand toward the Great Demon, a figure most mortals would flee from in terror.
"Good day, Mr. Bair. I am Cloud Light and Calm, the Empire of Ashen’s specially appointed legal counsel. It is an honor to collaborate with you on this Merchandise Trade negotiation."
Even the ancient Devil, who had lived through countless ages and seen it all, blinked in surprise. His expression, for a fleeting moment, froze.
The chamber remained chaotic as Players produced files, argued fiercely, and cited precedent. Kai Xiusu, after enduring it long enough, finally snapped.
"Enough!" he snapped, irritation sharp in his voice. "I said before—you are not Lord of Avernus yet. The Empire is the主导 force in this collaboration. These fruitless debates are pointless. Bair, you have two choices: accept or refuse. Any attempt to twist or distort the Pact is meaningless."
Bair sighed dramatically, bowing his head in feigned submission. "Very well, Your Majesty. Since this is your demand, I have no choice. After all, I am merely a fallen soul in Hell now—no longer worthy to bargain."
"Then sign the Pact."
Kai Xiusu, towering with overwhelming presence, fixed the fallen Hell Lord with a piercing gaze.
"Yes, Master."
Lanpu raised his Staff. The hundreds of pages of the Pact folded neatly into a single stack, the final page—bearing the signature of Kai Xiusu Claudew Noirikexius—placed atop.
Bair took the document. From the folds of his rich robes, he drew a quill—black, radiating an Infernal aura.
He dipped it into the air.
With a flourish, the name Bair appeared in the Pact’s blank space—etched in glowing, flame-like Infernal Script.
A surge of Essence, invisible yet undeniable, rose from the River of the Dead beneath the plane. It bound the two parties—Kai Xiusu and Bair—together, entwining their Spiritual Souls into an unbreakable, natural bond.
This was the true nature of a Hellish Pact. To break it meant unbearable cost—something even a Great Demon could not survive.
Bair lifted his head, his dark, fathomless eyes locking with the Red Dragon’s across the space between them. Then, with a polite bow:
"Collaboration shall be pleasant, King Kai Xiusu."
"Collaboration shall be pleasant," Kai Xiusu replied, nodding in greeting, his golden vertical pupils locking onto the Devil’s with unnerving intensity.
Under the Dragon’s gaze, Bair conjured Hellfire into a cloak. The Hexagram Rune Array flared violently, engulfing him in a storm of Ember Sparks and Ash—merely the Great Demon’s Avatar in this realm.
Trapped within the Goat Head, the Devil Albert wailed, "Master Bair! You haven’t taken me yet!"
But Bair ignored him entirely. With a wave of his hand, he vanished from the Prime Material Plane—leaving only fading ripples in the air.
Lanpu spoke calmly from beside him. "Albert. Master Bair likely won’t waste his strength on you. He won’t risk disrupting his alliance with the Master. So… peace of mind, King of the Chimera. May you make him wiser."
The Chimera let out a low growl, its new wisdom evident as it strode out of the Royal Palace—leaving the trapped Devil behind, head bowed, heart aching.
Will I now be forever controlled by this beast?
Kai Xiusu paid no attention to the small drama. Instead, he lowered his gaze, watching the Hexagram Rune Array fade into darkness.
A Fallen Hell Lord—even diminished—was still dangerous. Even this Avatar, a mere manifestation in the Prime Material Plane, bore Legendary Status.
Had the confrontation occurred in Bair’s true domain—Avernus—Kai Xiusu might not have emerged victorious. He certainly couldn’t have killed him.
Yet now, staring at the dead runes, Kai Xiusu’s lips curled into a satisfied smile.
Bair, the Great Demon, understood Pacts better than Kai Xiusu. Better than any legal scholar from the real world.
But he did not understand Players—a new and peculiar class of beings that had only recently emerged in Ailezegai.
Players had no Spiritual Soul.
More precisely, they possessed no soul recognized by Ailezegai’s World Law. Thus, they were known to Devils as the "Soulless Ones."
As a saying from Earth went: "Beyond the Three Realms, Unbound by the Five Elements."
After years of study, Empire scholars made a startling discovery: Players were merely vessels—containers for consciousness, their minds projected from another world.
Even a Pact with Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, could not bind their souls—because they existed outside the rules.
Thus, what seemed like a loophole in the Pact was, in truth, a trap—carefully prepared by Kai Xiusu.
The goal? To profit without investment. To ride free on the Hellish Strength of the Devil.
And unaware of this, the Great Demon Bair stepped right into it.
Soon, he would realize—these pacts consumed his power, yet yielded not a single Spiritual Soul.
Bound by the Pact, he couldn’t simply discard these parasitic "Leeches." He had to endure their drain.
When that moment came, even if Bair reclaimed his position as Lord of Avernus, he would lack the strength to win in the Blood War—unable to withstand Demon assaults on Hell.
And then, Kai Xiusu would reclaim his dominant position.
He would negotiate with Bair through his Players, extract benefits, and—just perhaps—secure a foothold within Avernus itself, standing as an equal to the Five-Colored Dragon Queen, trapped in the same realm.
"Sounds like it won’t be too far off, Bair," Kai Xiusu murmured, stroking his chin with a claw. "Future Lord of Avernus—enjoy our collaboration. By the way… how many Players should we send to ride your Hellish strength? Five thousand? Sounds perfect."
His fearsome lips curled higher, the smile growing darker, more sinister.
Thus, under the surface of a shared alliance—fueled by mutual distrust and hidden agendas—the Red Dragon and the Great Demon began their collaboration, united only by their common enemy: the current Lord of Avernus, Zaril.
In later records—especially those of Good Alignment—the Imperial Alliance Treaty with the Bair Faction became infamous. It was known as the "Evil Alliance."
---
Gedani Island.
A half-plane carved by the Empire of Ashen’s spellcasters over years of labor—designed specifically to imprison and exile powerful entities from other planes.
The environment was harsh: crimson-red ash soil, rivers of molten lava, and scorching winds that shifted without warning.
But to Devils, it felt like home.
The only place of peace within this wasteland was the Imperial-Designated Gedani Island Office—protected by the Empire’s Domain, its order preserved.
Inside the spacious chamber, captured Devils sat rigidly in their assigned seats, tense and wary. Weaker ones were confined in enchanted cages.
"This is a nightmare," one whispered. "They actually arrest Devils?"
"Right? I thought I’d successfully lured that damned mortal into evil... and he turns around and reports me?"
"If I ever get out, I’ll make these mortals suffer!"
"Shut up! You want a whipping? The Half-Dragon Wardens here aren’t playing."
Chatter filled the air—nervous, angry, despairing. The captured Devils exchanged grievances, each cursing their fate.
During the full-scale "Purge of Demons," over five hundred Devils had been apprehended by a Special Operations Team led by Meizhuolashi and imprisoned here.
"Silence!" Lanpu stood at the center, gripping the Empire’s Scepter. He tapped the ground once—its deep echo silenced the room.
"Devils. You are now imprisoned within Gedani Island. I ask you—do you know what you’ve done wrong?"
"Only if you answer this question," he continued, "I shall grant you freedom. On the word of the Imperial Prime Minister."
Instantly, the room erupted. Devils clamored to speak, scrambling to prove their repentance—some even groveled.
"Luring mortals into evil?"
"Attempting to steal mortal souls?"
"Ogre Lord!"
But Lanpu shook his head, tapping the ground again with his Scepter.
"Your greatest sin? You offended The Supreme King Kai Xiusu. You barged into the Empire of Ashen’s territory without permission, disrupted social order, and operated illegal trade battalions."
A Devil, eyes narrowing, cautiously asked: "So… does that mean soul trafficking and Hellish Pacts are allowed within the Empire?"
Lanpu’s expression softened slightly. He nodded slowly.
"We are the Kingdoms of the Red Dragon’s rule. Our realm includes dozens of races—unlike those rigid Human nations. As long as you pay your taxes, follow the laws, and obey the Empire’s Unification Arrangements—nothing is off-limits. Even—"
He paused, then spoke each word with deliberate weight:
"Spiritual Souls. Life Force."
In truth, the Empire of Ashen was built this way.
Let’s be frank—its prosperity was forged on the bones of Fadalan people. The endless War Flames had destroyed their homeland, yet brought the Empire an endless flow of wealth.
Iron Beasts in the cities belched smoke day and night, producing weapons for export across the world. Some Empire arms dealers even deliberately incited wars in the South—fanning conflict to boost sales.
Even the Empire’s light industry thrived. Cheap textiles, artifacts—flooded southward like a tidal wave—bankrupting small merchants and artisan workshops.
Beneath the glittering surface, beneath the shadow of the Dragon Wing, tens of thousands of Empire workers became mere cogs in the vast machine.
They lived in cramped pigeon coops, ate tasteless organic paste, endured grueling shifts of over twelve hours, working day and night.
Lanpu once confided to his inner circle: "Only by exploiting the entire world—mortals, nations, even our own people—can the Empire endure."
To him, everything was fuel for the Empire’s Great Blueprint.
Even the most vile Devil, in Lanpu’s eyes, was merely a tool—useful, if obedient.
Soon, even the Devils in enchanted cages reached out, their faces twisted with fawning loyalty.
For Lawful Evil Devils, dignity and pride were easily discarded.
And the Empire’s order? Not a burden, but a system they could work within.
"Lord Lanpu! We pledge obedience to the Empire!"
"We’ll pay our taxes!"
"Yes! You know us—Devils are refined, orderly by nature. We accept your Unification Arrangements!"
"Excellent," Lanpu said, surveying the room. A satisfied smile spread across his grotesque face.
Thus, even the demons of Hell were absorbed into the Empire of Ashen—becoming another piece of this colossal, insatiable entity.
(End of Chapter)
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