Devouring Monarch: Rebirth of the Profane Phoenix - Chapter 339

Chapter 339: The Capital Prepares!

Alistair Crowley sat on a regal chair in the capital city.
His place on the vacant throne with a room filled with dozens of knights who have abandoned their old king. Despite Randolf’s desperate resistance, he fell to Alistair and the cult’s plot, with all lords falling to their knees in acceptance or their entire family and estate being destroyed.

Of the council of twelve lords, only two remained present. The rest either fell or defected to Alistair’s side.

The council, once a beacon of power and unity, now stands fractured and weakened, a sad testament to Alistair’s growing influence.

“Tell me, Bill Nelphim, why did you abandon your land and return to the capital?” Alistair’s deep voice echoed—beside his throne, a mysterious woman in a black robe and veil covering her face stood without moving.

Bill’s body knelt on the royal blue carpet leading to the throne, his balding head full of sweat. There was news that his cousin Alan rejected the rule of Alistair and began forming a resistance to start a rebellion.

Because of this, he fled from his port city in the west and returned to the capital, his heart heavy with fear and uncertainty. He sought to explain his cause and prove his loyalty to Alistair, not out of choice but out of sheer terror.

“Sire! My cousin Alan is a foolish man who refuses to believe your rule will bring the world peace. I beg you, allow me to return to my lands and convince him to stop this rebellious behaviour!”

A smirk tugged at Alistair’s lips while his aura enveloped the entire room with an oppressive power. This was exactly what Alistair desired, for the two cousins to be in the same place at once. All so that his soldiers could cull them both; neither could be trusted, one a bumbling coward who bowed to the strongest existence present, the other righteous and unbreakable…

‘Well, especially what I did to Maria, haha. That boy could never forgive me no matter what Bill says.’

“Rise, Bill. Your loyalty is without question. I shall have my knights prepare you an escort. But tell me, Bill, your cousin Alan… he does not have a wife, yes?”

“Pardon? Ah, y-yes, he always seemed to have someone in his heart but would never speak to the family. That is why uncle gave the territories to me.”

Alistair stroked his short beard, his eyes blazing with interest. “Is that so? A woman so mysterious that not even you, his family, knew who she was or what she looked like.”

“Indeed, your grace. Alan was never one for women or children, always engrossed in training and reading.”

‘Clueless dolt!’

Alistair realised just how foolish he might have been if he had known that Alan controlled Westrin and helped it grow and work like a well-oiled machine. He would have sought an alliance with him and never approached Maria, instead choosing another of the twelve lords to make them suffer.

Bill, the naïve little fool, made things far easier for him, as the lord of the lands across the western ocean had always been his target. His personality, along with knowing that his father taught him about the elves and Alistair wanted to meet them, and the cult needing more land to toy with, made things far easier for him.

‘Still, those two could be my greatest foes, those that will fight against me until their final breath.’

The image of a young Silvaran noble turned prince with raven hair and red eyes, alongside him Alan Nelphim, who Alistair confirmed that Asura Phoenix saved him the night prior.

“I see very well, Bill—you shall head east and convince your cousin. Otherwise, he will lose everything, understood?” Alistair coldly warned, and Bill quickly nodded, his face pale and eyes teary.

“I won’t fail you, my king.” Bill declared, and with a wave of Alistair’s hand, he dismissed Bill from his sight, wanting nothing more than to enact his plan as soon as possible.

A thick aura filled the room, silence the only melody playing in these halls.

Alistair’s gaze at the retreating Bill turned into one of mockery, with his lips curling into a sneer, his hands tightening on the armrest. ‘Alan Nelphim, no doubt the woman he loved was Maria. Things are getting complicated—this useless cult claimed their orcs would storm the entire Romantica, and now they have joined with the irritating Prince from another kingdom.

“Marvin Verdant, you will not make the same mistakes as your older brother Seldon, I believe?”

Seldon Verdant, the former third lord, tried to resist the rule of Alistair, though it had yet to be officially revealed, because of Alistair’s popularity with the people and many nobles thanks to the manipulation over the years and with the cult’s added help there wouldn’t be much resistance from the populace, Randolf was an ageing king who lost touch with his people in his last days.

“I-I never, sire! I am your loyal dog!” Marvin trembled and dropped to his knees. He was Seldon’s younger brother, though he was also far weaker, fearful of conflict and war.

“Then I will give you a task. Should you succeed, you shall be rewarded with more land and titles.”

“Command me, your majesty!”

Alistair pondered for a moment, his gaze flickering over to his companion, who stood there before back to the cowardly lord. “Take an army of two thousand knights and slay the traitorous Bill and Alan Nelphim!”

Marvin’s body stiffened, his voice trembling. “Y-Your majesty, that’s the king’s order?!”

“Foolish dog! What does it matter? The king has been weak in his final days! The council abandoned him. Why should I care what some feeble old man thinks?”

Yes, many of the untrustworthy were still in the belief the king was sick. However, his body and all family members that had links to the crown were dead. The cult’s assassins extinguished them overnight.

“Now, I ask once more, will you serve me, or shall I have the dogs that would fail me scurry around and return home?” Alistair threatened, his oppressive aura filling the air and pushing Marvin down.

“Y-Yes! I will kill the traitors! Unlike my brother and his allies!”

The image of his brother and over fifty knights and minor nobles impaled on stakes placed outside their family home still caused Marvin to tremble in terror.

“Good, see to it that you do.”

Marvin soon left, leaving Alistair in a room with only the hooded woman who didn’t speak or move and two knights guarding the throne room’s entrance.

Alistair’s eyes glimmered with darkness, and he dropped his mask for a moment, allowing a haunting smile to creep up onto his lips.

“Tell me, Abaddon, did you manage to kill the man you spoke so much about?” His voice taunting her, filled with mockery as his lips deformed into a twisted smile.

“Not yet,” she answered him. “He’s proven to be more difficult than expected.”

“I wonder just what kind of person could be so important to the cruel and heartless Abaddon?” Alistair couldn’t help but tease her even more, watching as she moved, her powerful presence making him shiver, though he wasn’t her enemy and refused to bring her attention upon him.

“Someone who makes you look like an inferior insect.” Her voice seemed proud, and her tone carried a subtle smile before she vanished from the room, leaving Alistair alone, his face one of frustration.

“Damned snake bitch, I will kill you and take this kingdom for myself. Your cult will bow before me as their master!” Alistair shook his fist in anger, before he stood from his throne and took a deep breath, the room returning to normal, and a more human and refined Alistair replaced the earlier existence.

‘For now, I must play along. But as soon as they outlive their usefulness, I will drain their life and absorb their power.’

Alistair seemed to have forgotten that the ones who gave him this power were the cult themselves if he knew it was a defective and inferior version of Asura’s natural power. Would he still have the same confidence or change his plans to avoid destruction?

***

A lone woman dressed in a black robe and hood concealed her features.

Her beautiful face and sparkling silver eyes remained unseen by any living being, while her blonde hair was concealed in a veil.

Abaddon walked down the empty palace corridors, the eerie quietness enough to unnerve her. But the woman continued down the path, turning a corner and reaching a dead end, her right hand extended forward as it pressed against the wall.

Suddenly, the sound of shifting stones echoed out, followed by a gushing sound of liquid dripping to the ground.

Abaddon gazed down to see a pool of blood form in front of her feet. “Oh, it seems a little rat tried to enter my room.”

Her cold voice caused the heart of a corpse to skip a beat in its final moments as her foot stomped down, crushing it to pieces.

As the wall parted way, Abaddon entered. The passage returned to normal after she was inside. She smiled and walked forward, descending the hidden stairs beneath the palace and reaching the dark room after a few minutes.

With the snap of her fingers, flames began lighting across the room, revealing a beautiful and feminine space.

The room was large and spacious, with white walls and furniture well decorated and adorned in fine fabric and jewels. A fireplace was placed on one wall, and a set of two chairs faced each other, with a table in between.

Abaddon lowered herself onto a chair, her figure becoming more alluring as she leaned back with a creak to observe the enormous picture above the fire…

A painting of Asura Phoenix during his marriage, but the woman beside him wasn’t Vela but Abaddon, her blonde hair tied in a fishtail. Her bright smile and the way Asura held her spoke volumes of their love.

“Heh… what an idiotic fool, you believed your enemy’s words just because you are crazy about him!”

She took a drink from the wineglass on the table, scanning the image with her eyes, noting how radiant the Asura in the image seemed. Her mind seemed clear, but her heart clouded as she wondered if he would really keep his promise in the future.

‘Can I truly trust in him? Or will he betray me and kill me?’ Abaddon’s ever-changing eyes became conflicted, her grip tightening on the glass until it shattered into pieces.

The scent of fresh blood filled her nose, and she smiled, a twisted sense of glee appearing in her chest.

“I will make him mine~ make him addicted to my body. We were born to become each other’s mates. I will kill anyone who comes between us, even if that existence is that damn divine being!”

Nobody could tell when, but at some point, the saintess fell for the person Asura Phoenix rather than his title as the divine son.

She no longer wanted the divine son—instead wanted Asura himself… What effects this change might have, nobody in the current world could know.