Hell's King and Sloth
Bael landed at the entrance to her castle, the Black Obsidian Palace, slicing through Hell's thick air.
Normally, the Red Hellfire—the very embodiment of Hell's authority—would have draped her entire body in dignified flames. But the flames, clashing against Natae's bizarre stillness, had yet to regain their glow. They scattered like mist, unable to recover.
In the place where her causality-forged garments had vanished, Hell's pinnacle couldn't stand naked before her subordinates.
Bael ended up rummaging through the deepest warehouse she'd never opened since becoming Hell's lord. What she pulled out and wore was this jet-black dress.
To the king who upheld Hell's order, this clothing—each thread a physical entity—was nothing short of an alien, cumbersome restraint.
"Welcome, Lady Bael."
The upper demons guarding the gates knelt in unison. She would have accepted their worship as a matter of course, but today, a heavy fatigue settled on her shoulders.
"I'm tired. I need rest. Withdraw."
Bael nodded curtly and crossed the corridor. But the head butler demon following her spoke up with a troubled expression.
"Lady Bael... um..."
"What is it."
Her eyes chilled as she halted. The butler bowed deeper, his voice trembling.
"Lord Satan... has come to visit."
Bael's brow furrowed instantly.
'Hah... After that commotion, of course he wouldn't stay put.'
The causality wave that shook all of Hell. And that alien power worthy of being called the essence of a star. The other absolute ruler who divided Hell wouldn't have missed its presence.
"Where is he."
"On the office terrace."
Bael waved him off irritably, dismissing the butler. She closed her eyes. In an instant, space twisted, and her form appeared at the top of the Black Obsidian Castle, smack in the middle of the office.
Beyond the roughly flung-open door stood a boy.
A slender build that looked about fifteen. But the aura rippling over him was thicker and more ominous than any demon in Hell. The Root of Sin: Wrath. The absolute being who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her, ruling half of Hell—Satan.
Hands behind his back, he gazed out from the terrace. His eyes narrowed thinly, tracing Natae's lingering mark tens of thousands of kilometers away, still a faded scar on the horizon.
"You're here."
A calm voice that didn't suit the boy's appearance. Bael approached with an expressionless face.
"This is my castle, you know. How many times have I told you not to barge in, Satan."
Satan turned. A smirk tugged at his lips, blending boyish innocence with demonic cruelty.
"If I could help it."
He looked at Bael. An intangible power surged like waves over his young body.
"It was impressive. The whole of Hell shook. How could I just sit still? Heh heh..."
Bael clicked her tongue and followed his gaze. Tens of thousands of kilometers distant. The aftermath of her battle with Natae reached even here, vivid and raw. Grotesque scars, as if a massive hole had been punched through Hell's canvas.
The silence stretched until Satan broke it with a question.
"What was he like."
"You saw him yourself."
"Not that. I know his combat power. I'm asking about his nature."
Satan's eyes lingered on Bael's dress. A black one Pride had gifted long ago, tossed into storage as useless junk. Bael touched the hem and spoke.
"A new Root of Sin. Sloth."
Satan's eyes widened slightly.
"Sloth? That firepower from Sloth? Hm, maybe I misunderstood what Sloth means."
"It's Sloth. I saw his origin with my own eyes."
Satan burst into delighted laughter.
"Great! Feels like I got a little brother."
"Doubt it. He seemed born at the same moment as us, not quite the baby of the family."
"Hah! He registered last, so he's the baby. End of story."
Satan added cheerfully, savoring the breeze. Bael sighed and shook her head.
"If you say so."
"Anyway, what a bizarre power."
"Yes. Probably innate from the source. Like your cold wrath or my causality."
"But I can't figure out the principle at all."
Satan's eyes sharpened.
"I watched the fight. The power coming from his body is definitely his. But how he constructs and shifts it... it's freaky. From something like my chill, to an all-devouring abyss, even the sun. What kind of brain allows that kind of switching?"
"I tried peering into his psyche too, but only caught the surface."
"Huh? Just the surface? You, Hell's king?"
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Satan's face.
"Yes. When I probed deeper, his power pushed me out. Perfectly, without any resistance on my part."
Satan stared blankly for a moment, then clutched his stomach and howled with mad laughter.
"Hahaha! Fun, so much fun! Heh heh heh..."
After cackling wildly for a while, he suddenly sobered, exhaling softly.
"Hah... Whatever. We've got a powerful brother called Sloth now. Good times ahead for us."
He turned back to the terrace view. The smile on the boy's lips mixed childlike glee at a new toy with anticipation for a variable that could upend Hell's balance.
Bael made no effort to hide her exhaustion and shooed him away.
"Go home now. I'm tired."
At her blunt dismissal, Satan plopped sideways onto the terrace railing and pouted.
"Already? Isn't Hell's king a bit stingy with hospitality? We were just getting into stories about our new brother—nice vibe going."
Satan shrugged regretfully, staring at Bael. Only after noting the deep fatigue around her eyes did he stand with a show of reluctance.
"Fine, fine. Can't disturb our sensitive queen's rest, or she might bind me with causality too. Shame, but we'll call it here for today."
He turned slowly, stepping toward empty air, then paused as if struck by a thought. Glancing back over his shoulder at Bael.
"That dress? Way better than your usual full-body crimson blaze. Wear it more often."
"Begone."
As Bael's face twisted, Satan chuckled and vanished into the void.
Alone now, Bael leaned on the railing and let out a deep sigh.
"...Anyone out there."
An upper demon entered immediately, as if waiting, and bowed. Bael stared at the distant sky, asking indifferently.
"I heard a child was summoned to the middle realm recently."
"Yes, the mid-rank demon Serem was contract-summoned."
"Tell that child. There's something called 'tea.' Have her bring some back when she returns. And make sure she learns all the laws properly."
"Tea... you mean?"
"Yes. Steep flower petals or whatever in water and drink. Instruct her thoroughly."
As the upper demon withdrew with a puzzled look, Bael's murmur dispersed into the silent terrace.
"Sloth... He had no name. Next time, I should give him one."
She closed her eyes. In her mind rose the image of that man brazenly lounging on the sofa, looking up at her. A faint smile—unnoticed even by herself—touched her expressionless lips.
'What a... peculiar man.'
Hell's king, Bael, closed her eyes for the first time, thinking of someone.
*
The familiar blood-red sky.
I slowly opened my eyes. Pain stabbed my side as I tried to sit up. Lifting my shirt, the surface looked healed—my vital energy had condensed to mend it—but the inner ache lingered.
"...Hah."
I flopped back onto the sofa. With a sigh, I closed my eyes and slipped into my inner psyche world.
'Wonder if it's refilled a bit.'
What I saw, with hopeful eyes, was a lone small lake where an endless black sea had once stretched. The cost of scraping the bottom dry in my fight with Bael.
Damn, feels like a total loss.
I recalled our final clash. She pierced my side; I drove my sword into her abdomen. Coldly speaking, she had the edge, but... whatever. I landed a hit too, so call it a draw.
After that mental victory lap, I exited my psyche and opened my eyes.
The problem was my vital energy. Power I'd arrogantly called vast had drained in an instant. I barely understood it yet. This was my first real fight.
'Let's review.'
First big drain: nuclear fusion. Then the event horizon. Those two ate over half my reserves. In contrast, cryogenic phase shifts, body enhancement, dynamic vision buffs—those were minor. The final entropy maximization was the outlier.
Why the huge difference in cost?
Torturing Hell's trash mobs had burned a fair bit too. That involved messing with 'time,' so maybe...
I raised my hand and began testing tiny particle-scale vital energy releases. Not attacks—just manifesting simple atmospheric phenomena.
First, I targeted a floating dust particle. Just [move] it. Easy. Barely any drain.
Next, try making its [position data] exist in two places at once. Quantum superposition.
'...!'
In a flash, vital energy ebbed from my fingertip like a receding tide—unpleasant. The dust tried dual existence, sparked weird noise, and vanished.
One more. Tweak the [gravitational constant] in a tiny space. Tampering with physics' bedrock.
Vital energy wasn't just fuel for force. It surged exponentially when using knowledge from my mind's 'library' to redefine the world's very concepts.
"...Ah, got it."
Library and knowledge. The more precise and grand the scientific concepts I knew—the more I touched 'laws'—the heavier the load on Hell's system. Vital energy burned like fuel to bear it.
Of course, this theory might be off, but it feels right for now... Nah, digging deeper sounds like a hassle anyway.
I released the vital energy. The tingling in my fingertips faded. Conclusion reached. For future fights, I need control. Save 'concept' tweaks for finishers—or I'd collapse mid-battle and nap.
I sat up fully. Looking around, my painstakingly built sanctuary lay in ruins. The manicured lawn was uprooted, the fluffy bed and blankets incinerated beyond recognition.
I raked my face roughly with both hands. Dry-washed over and over, but the wreckage stayed.
"...Aaaaaah! Such a pain!! Fucking annoying!"
The scream burst out. More than the side pain, rebuilding from scratch tormented me. I half-wished someone would do it for me, then sighed again.
"...Hah, gotta sleep anyway."
Grudgingly, I started reconstruction.
Scattered vital energy to form a transparent dome, leveled the bumpy ground, laid soft grass, purified the acrid air. Shaped a fluffy bed, pillows, blankets.
Remaking from zero sparked a thought.
'Hmm... No torture devices this time.'
After this mess fighting Hell's king, trash mobs won't approach anyway. Not scared of Bael or anything. Just saving energy—messing with time tires me out.
I dove onto the finished bed. Plush comfort enveloped me.
"Ah... Feels so good. I'm happy."
Blissful ease washed over me. A languid peace after brutal battle.