The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 207: The Lord of the prison, Saint Elcasore.

Chapter 207: The Lord of the prison, Saint Elcasore.

She stepped closer again, her gaze piercing into his soul.

"I am Elcasore," she said. "Your father, Axaxeal knows me well."

Her eyes gleamed with something ancient and unreadable. "Tell me, Kaisun, do you want to return to your wife?"

Kai snorted, dry and bitter. "Why is that even a question?"

"I can give you a chance," she said calmly. "A chance we’ve offered only once before... to your father."

She waited, letting the silence draw out like a blade across the skin.

He narrowed his eyes. "How should I believe you?"

Elcasore laughed, a clear, echoing sound, cold as a frozen mountain air. "You sound just like him. But remember, I am not a demon. I cannot lie."

She gestured toward a shimmering distortion in the distance, a shape just barely visible in the molten haze.

"I will let you enter the Tunnel of Futures. There, you will see what lies ahead, what you will become after your wife’s death. Only then will you decide. Or..." She leaned close again, her voice now silk and venom. "I can kill you here and send your soul to the Shadows. You are the Lord of Shadows, after all. The gods won’t waste fire on your soul, they prefer you in the dark, ruling the land of lost spirits. You’ve sent enough souls there already to make a realm."

A mischievous smirk curled her lips.

"Will you offer the same choice to my brother?" Kai asked through clenched teeth.

Elcasore only shrugged, uninterested in answering.

"I choose the tunnels," he said at last. There was no room left for doubt. These chains were driving him mad, and more than that, he had to find a way back to Ren. Before she made a grave mistake... like offering her life for his. Or making another reckless deal with his father.

"Your wish is my command, little Shadow Lord."

Elcasore snapped her fingers. The shackles cracked, then shattered like glass, releasing Kai. He collapsed forward, catching himself on trembling arms as the weight and searing pain finally began to lift.

"How long will it take?" he asked, dragging in a breath thick with sulfur, trying to steady himself.

"That depends on you," she said, voice light as if they were discussing the weather. "Linger too long, and when you return to the mortal realm... your wife may already be dead. Perhaps generations will have passed. Who knows?"

A chill slid down Kai’s spine, colder than the sweat still clinging to him. Elcasore was toying with him, this woman, this ancient being, must have lived so long that torment had become her amusement.

"I accept your challenge," he said, squaring his shoulders, even as exhaustion clung to every limb. "Send me."

She laughed softly, as though he had just confirmed her favorite theory. "So impatient. That’s never good," she murmured.

Elcasore raised her left arm with the grace of a priestess. A cloud of white smoke spiraled out from her palm, coiling, and thickening like a living veil. It surged toward the platform and struck the stone beneath Kai’s feet.

With a groan, the ground warped and cracked, and then it gave way.

Kai fell into darkness.

~*~

Underworld – The Hall of Mirrors

The demon god, Axaxeal, stood still before a towering mirror. Its surface shimmered not with reflections, but with flickers of memory, of sin, of failure. His face, cut from shadow and fury, was as sharp and merciless as the very edges of his dominion.

Behind him, Azrael stumbled into view, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the obsidian floor. Blood trickled from his lips, bright as rubies against the pallor of his skin. He pressed a hand to his chest, panting.

"I lost Kaisun," he choked out. "That damned rascal deceived me. I should’ve known, he couldn’t have retreated that fast..."

The shame burned worse than the pain. For a moment, he was not a Saint, not a commander, not even a son, just a broken disciple drowning in failure.

Axaxeal turned, his coal-dark eyes devoid of sympathy. He raised his staff, the Stone of Life pulsing with an eerie crimson.

"You weren’t ready to summon that gate," he said coldly. With a flick of the staff, a thread of red light slithered from the stone like a living serpent, coiling toward Azrael and encircling him in a quiet hum. His wounds began to close, though his soul still bled.

Azrael looked up, stunned. "You should punish me. Why are you healing me?"

The demon god gave a lazy shrug, the movement disturbingly casual. "Seven shades of life," he murmured. "Magic we once crafted and left untouched... Do you think this is mercy? No. This is your punishment." His voice turned cold, sharp as obsidian. "I will heal you. Then torment you. And I will repeat it, again and again, until you finally understand." His gaze narrowed. "Emotion is your weakness, Azrael. I have told you this more times than I care to count. If you want to become a true saint, you must turn into a blank being, as white and blinding as light itself."

Azrael gave a faint, bitter smile. "I’m glad that you will punish me."

No sooner had the healing light vanished than Azrael forced himself to stand, knowing what was coming next would not be so kind.

Axaxeal struck the black end of his staff against the ground. A crack split the mirror world, and the Hall of Mirrors dissolved into flame.

The world reformed, a pit of torment carved into the Underworld. Two lava-veined mountains loomed on either side, their molten rivers gushing into a bottomless abyss that moaned like a dying beast. In the center of the infernal landscape stood a circular platform surrounded by four jagged rune-carved black pillars. Chains burst from the stone, alive with magic, and lunged for Azrael. Before he could resist, they wrapped around his limbs and throat, yanking him down.

Azrael’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You cannot imprison me!"

"Who said I cannot?" Axaxeal stepped forward, his shadow long and burning with invisible fire.

"You’re breaching the laws of the gods!" Az warned.

The demon god laughed, low and cool. "This is my realm, not theirs. And you are my son, not theirs." He raised his staff. "I can punish you whenever I see fit."

He pointed toward the chains, and his voice thundered across the burning gorge:

"Now, kneel."

He spun sharply and unleashed a brutal wave of dark magic, slamming it into Azrael’s chest. The impact sent him crashing to his knees, blood spurting from his mouth like crimson rain.

"You should go save Kai," Azrael gasped, desperate.

The demon god’s eyes blazed with fury. "Don’t tell me what to do!" he snapped. "First, I will cleanse your wretched soul. Only then will your weak pleas summon a portal to bring him back."

Azrael coughed harshly, struggling to meet his father’s gaze. "I... I can’t open another portal, not in this state. Look at me."

A cruel laugh echoed through the molten air. "Oh, I see." Axaxeal’s voice was cold, biting. "Then perform the soul cultivation, you foolish brat. You have two days. Two days to open a portal to that accursed realm. I need to see the Lord of the Prison, Saint Elcasore."

With a vicious strike, he hit Azrael again, drawing a ragged, agonized roar from his son.

Stepping back, Axaxeal’s gaze shifted toward Fison Volcano. From the shadowed depths of its nest, a black dragon emerged, scales glinting like smelted obsidian in the firelight.

A sinister smirk twisted the demon god’s lips. "Do this, or I will send my daughter-in-law to tame Adoninath and storm the prison herself to retrieve my son. I don’t care about Reneira that much."

The threat hung heavy in the ash-thick air. Azrael could no longer feel the pain. Becoming this dragon’s rider was equal to selling her soul to the darkness. Reneira would be wasted.

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