The Eclipsed Bloom
Chapter 64: Grand meeting

Chapter 64: Chapter 64: Grand meeting

Elarion World – Demon Continent

Abyrion scowled as he walked through the grand halls of the demon castle, the echo of his footsteps sharp against the cold stone. The irritation in his eyes deepened when his gaze fell upon a familiar figure standing at the end of the corridor.

A woman with snow-white hair cascading down her back and eyes like deep pools of blood stood with arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips.

Bellamy.

"What do you want, Bellamy?" Abyrion snapped, his voice laced with disdain.

Bellamy tilted her head, her smirk widening as she stepped forward with a casual grace.

"I simply wanted to see the mighty Demon Lord everyone talks about," she said mockingly. "After all those centuries sealed away... how’s the condition of the great Abyrion now?"

His crimson eyes narrowed dangerously.

In a flash, he vanished.

A heartbeat later, he appeared before her—his clawed hand tightening around her throat as he slammed her against the cold wall.

Bellamy gasped, coughing slightly from the impact—but instead of fear, laughter bubbled from her lips.

"Kh... cough... hahaha," she chuckled, even as his grip tightened. "Still so touchy, Abyrion. That temper of yours will be your downfall one day."

Abyrion’s eyes burned brighter, but his voice remained cold."Keep pushing me, and you’ll find out just how ’recovered’ I am."

Bellamy looked him dead in the eyes, her smirk never fading.

Bellamy’s eyes glinted with mischief—then, in one swift motion, she clenched her hand around Abyrion’s wrist.

A surge of dark energy pulsed through her grip.

Abyrion’s eyes widened slightly, a jolt of pain shooting up his arm. His fingers instinctively loosened their hold on her throat.

"Ahhh—!" he hissed, yanking his hand back. He winced, clenching it as faint black smoke rose from his skin.

Bellamy chuckled darkly, brushing her neck with feigned nonchalance.

"You haven’t fully recovered," she said smugly, stepping away. "You got overpowered by a demon at the General rank... and yet you still call yourself a Demon Lord?"

Rage contorted Abyrion’s face. His chest heaved as he took a slow, deep breath, forcing the fury back down.

"What do you want, Bellamy?" he growled. "This will be the last time I tolerate your games."

Bellamy turned her back on him, walking away with deliberate calm."Nothing," she said airily. "I only wanted to see the ’mighty’ Demon Lord in person. That’s all."

Abyrion scoffed and turned, striding away with clenched fists and blazing eyes.

Bellamy paused, glancing over her shoulder.

Her smirk faded.

Her crimson gaze lingered on his retreating back, and for a moment—a fleeting, unguarded moment—a melancholy expression clouded her face.

"...You really haven’t changed at all, have you?" she whispered, but the words were too soft to reach him.

Krazun leaned against the tall obsidian window frame, a smirk already playing at his lips as Abyrion entered the room.

"Oh? How was your meeting with your wife?" he asked with deliberate amusement.

Abyrion’s eyes narrowed. His expression darkened, and he shot Krazun a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

"Stop asking about that," he growled. "And don’t call her my wife."

"Yeah, yeah," Krazun replied, waving a lazy hand. "You can’t change reality just by denying it."

The mocking tone in his voice made Abyrion clench his fists. A flicker of dark energy danced along his knuckles as he struggled to hold back his temper.

"When are we launching the attack?" Abyrion asked coldly, his voice laced with impatience.

Krazun didn’t respond immediately. He turned, gazing out the massive window overlooking the demon continent’s burning skies.

Then, he raised a single finger and pointed.

Abyrion followed the gesture, his eyes widening as he beheld the sight outside—an ocean of demons gathering in formation, stretching across the jagged wasteland. Towering figures loomed among them—Dread-class demons, their monstrous forms wreathed in fire and shadow, waiting in eerie silence for a command.

Krazun’s smirk deepened."The time is soon," he said.

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Earth — California, Church Basement

In the dimly lit basement beneath a grand cathedral, dozens sat in silent tension. Knights in polished armor, priests in white robes, monks draped in saffron, and mystics in yellow sat shoulder to shoulder—an alliance of unlikely faiths and orders.

At the center of the table, Leslie rested his chin on his clasped hand, eyes scanning the gathered assembly.

"Today’s summons... it means something," he said solemnly. "Lucien himself is coming to speak. That alone tells us this isn’t ordinary."

A figure dressed in yellow slowly opened his eyes, which had been closed in meditation. The moment Leslie spoke the vampire’s name, the man’s body visibly trembled.

"Wh-What do you mean Lucien?" the man stammered. "That... vampire?"

Leslie turned to him, recognizing the unease in his voice.

"Zen," he said gently but firmly, "I know you hold a grudge against him—but now isn’t the time for that. this can be related to demons we need to care full we cannot risk earth destruction."

Zen’s fists clenched in his lap, his eyes narrowing but he said nothing more.

With a determined breath, Leslie stood up from his chair. His movement prompted the rest of the figures around the long table to rise as well, their faces a mix of wariness and resolve.

"Let’s go," Leslie said. "We don’t keep a creatures like Lucien and deitys waiting—especially when he comes in peace."

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zara nodded and smile softly hearing lilith words, lucien turn his body and enter the portal, lilith nodded at zara and start walking toward portal,

As Zara stepped into the portal, a blinding light engulfed her. Instinctively, she raised her hand to shield her eyes. The world around her spun, weightless and endless, like time itself had momentarily lost meaning.

When the light finally dimmed, she slowly lowered her hand—and her breath caught in her throat.

"...What is this place...?" she whispered.

Before her, countless floating platforms hovered in the sky, suspended by invisible forces. Each platform was vast, some resembling gardens, others like glowing palaces—but the ones that drew her gaze most were the ones with grand thrones etched into shining stone and metal, seated high like sovereign stars.