First Demonic Dragon - Chapter 569 Poor Negotiations

There is a particular building within the heavenly lands that has lie empty for the better part of a few hundred years.

Asherah called it The Throne of Grace.

It is a great white spire cathedral overlooking the vast reaches of heaven from beginning to end.

Not only that, at the very top of the tower, there was a single throne made of wood carved from the tree of life.

And by sitting on it, Yesh could see everything, everywhere, all at once.

There are four ‘guardians’ who sit beside the throne.

They should also be classified as angels, but… it is difficult to actually refer to them as such.

They resemble creatures that a child might come up with in art class.

Their appearances are that of a lion, calf, man, and eagle, with only a single face but eyes all throughout.

Like stone statues, they kneel eternally without respite; as a sign of respect to the grand leader that left them behind so long ago.

Not even the presences of the seven could wake them, nor could they order them.

However, there was atleast one that they would move for.

*Crack*

After centuries of standing there motionlessly, the sound of the statues’ movement was like the snapping of branches.

In unison, the four of them stood up and stretched their bones.

Their myriad of eyes flashed open after centuries of remaining tightly shut.

Abaddon’s first instinct was to pull Ayaana, and surprisingly Sif, behind him.

Admittedly, he was quite surprised.

Not just because of how powerful these things were, but because he had no idea they were even here in the first place.

“It’s been so long. How are my faithful friends doing?” Asherah flung her arms around the necks of two of the guardians happily.

It was clear that this sort of reunion was a very longtime coming for them.

The guardians spoke in such old enochian that even Abaddon had to readjust his brain to understand exactly what they were saying.

*Sniff, sniff…*

“Is it truly…”

“L-Lady Asherah…”

“Y-You’ve returned from retirement!”

“No, He and I are still retired.” Asherah said energetically.

Her words sent all four guardians into a state of rampant depression.

“Please, cheer up my darlings. We always knew that we would have to separate one day, but isn’t it nice that we atleast have this moment to catch up?”

This seemed to console the hearts and minds of the guardians tremendously.

They believed that they would spend the entirety of creation asleep; forced only to remember the times from before where they were in service to their lord.

Compared to that, it was indeed nice to spend this brief moment just to say ‘hello’ once again.

Once Abaddon saw that the guardians were too busy fawning over Asherah to engage in hostilities, he released his hold on Ayaana and Sif.

But suddenly, he noticed an inhuman glare boring into him from the side.

“….The hell is your problem?”

Nyx continued to glare at him as she folded her arms across her chest. “Is there any reason you didn’t try to protect ME from some undesirable fate?!”

“You’re more than powerful enough to take care of yourself.”

“So are your wives!”

“I exchanged vows with them. It’s my duty to protect them whether they require it or not.”

“W-What about Sif?!”

“Thea would be sad if I let her birth mother die. You know how frail Sif is.”

Sif: “Bitch.”

“See?”

Nyx gritted her teeth and turned away from Abaddon entirely. “Fine… blockhead.”

While Abaddon scratched his cheek in bewilderment, Sif was internally calling him a few names as well.

‘I didn’t give you permission to touch me either, bastard dragon… Who is to say that I need your protection? Who said I was frail?!’

In fairness, Sif wasn’t really mad about the fact that Abaddon had tried to protect her.

She was mad because he touched her.

The dragon hadn’t yet given her his blood so that she could atleast partially resist the full weight of his attractiveness.

She had been holding unnecessary images at bay by telling herself that she was just being made to feel this way by his ability, but it barely worked.

But the problem arose when Abaddon placed his firm…large… uniquely pleasant hand on Sif’s arm and pulled her behind him.

The amount of willpower it took for her not to grab him by whatever was closest and pull him to the floor was nothing short of biblical. (Present setting inspired no doubt.)

‘Get it together, Sif… by Ymir, you’re married!’

To save her sanity and modesty, Sif focused on hating Abaddon instead of wanting to jump him.

…It worked out pretty well if she did say so herself!

The seven archangels stared at this scene with dry gazes.

Raphael: ‘This is our great enemy..? The Black Dragon?’

Azrael: ‘If you’d like to call him that, sure.’

Michael: ‘Do NOT let yourselves be fooled, brothers. Though this facade of his may seem harmless, remember that he is a reality devouring monster.’

Jophiel: ‘That’s right. He will plunge everything that we know into nothingness at the moment that we let down our guard even for a moment.’

Azrael was silent as he folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe. ‘Well… you all are certainly entitled to feel like that.’

The archangels stared at their brother out of the corner of their eyes.

This was always the hard part about interacting with beings who are literal personifications of death.

They never give a shit about anything.

Death comes to all without distinction; rich man or poor man, young or old.

Summarily, it is hard to make them get up in arms about a mass loss of life like the kind Abaddon could bring about.

As long as something lives, the concept of death will survive.

And when the last living thing has died out, death’s aspects will go along with it.

This has been their role, and their responsibility, from the very beginning.

Azrael was a bit better than most of his counterparts because he was raised around a particularly devout family, and as a result he was a touch more sentimental.

But still, even after thousands of years, it was still hard for his siblings to read exactly what he was thinking at times.

“Oh, pardon my rudeness.” Asherah finally tore her attention away from the guardians and turned back to the rest of the group.

“I seem to have gotten a bit carried away in the moment. Shall we start our meeting now?”

– 23 Minutes Later

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“…”

“…”

Asherah sighed as she finally set down her teacup.

Looking down the table, Abaddon and his group were sitting on one side of the table while Michael and his siblings were sitting on the opposite side.

No one had so much as blinked at each other, and Nyx & Azrael were the only ones drinking tea.

“Everyone… I hope you are having a telepathic conversation.”Asherah said, trying not to voice her annoyance.

All: “We aren’t.”

“Honestly now, is this any way to behave? I would have hoped that there would be a bit more ofa dialogue going by this point.”

Uriel looked concerned as she took Asherah’s hand. “Mother… how can you possibly endorse conversing with a being like this?”

“Abaddon is not what he was, dear. He has his sanity now, and has reclaimed position as Overlord of Tehom.

With it, he has vowed to protect the vast universes from the threat of those lurking behind the gates. Along with his brides, of course.”

Ayaana smiled at her as she clung to the arm of her husband.

“He vowed to kill all gods who did not align with him.” Uriel reminded. “And you would say that such a being is on our side and not deserving of our fear?”

Asherah started to comment on that, but eventually she realized that this would be a good segway into conversation.

“Tathamet, do you care to address that statement of yours?”

After a long period of sitting in silence, Abaddon reopened his three eyes and dragged them over every angel present.

His answer, as one would have expected, was less than forthcoming.

“…Not really.”

“…Would you like to elaborate as to why?” No one could see it, but Asherah’s brow was twitching.

Abaddon absentmindedly traced his thumb over the giant multicolored diamond in his wife’s wedding ring.

“The way I see it, the only ones who fear me are the ones who should.

The irresponsible, the cowardly, the overindulgent, the self important, the children with power that they neither deserve nor understand.

My armies will burn to ash all those who abuse their titles as gods and drown in excess while the world below them withers away in squalor.

And from what remains, we will create a paradise for mortals and immortals alike.

I can accomplish this with help if those who understand are inclined to give it, or I can do it on my own. It makes no difference to me. ”

Suddenly he looked past his wife, to Sif who was merely stirring her tea as she listened to his words.

“Have you ever feared me, Sif?”

“Feared you…? Only when you kidnapped me I suppose.”

“I thought that you loathed me.”

“Two things can be true at once.”

Abaddon rolled his eyes as he turned toward Nyx.

“And what about you, Nyx? Were you ever fearful I would harm you?”

Nyx gave him a ‘Be Serious’ look.

And surprisingly, that made Abaddon and Ayaana laugh just a bit.

“So you see, I’m not really interested in explaining my words or even correcting them.

Those that want better for everyone have nothing to fear from me, and those that insist on remaining blind, deaf, and dumb can stay that way all the way up until their heads are separated from their shoulders.

I’d much rather not talk about this, as I find the conversation to be boring and tedious by this point.

But I am interested in something else if you’ll indulge me in the conversation, Asherah.”

“Oh? I wonder what that might be.”

Abaddon placed his elbows on the table as he stared at the four guardians still standing behind Asherah’s chair.

“I have been aware of every single object, blank space, and hidden pathway from the moment that I fused with this realm, but I could not sense those four until you woke them.”

Underneath her veil, Asherah could be seen smiling sheepishly.

“Yes… I should have figured that they would catch your attention.”

“Indeed they have. Would you care to tell me exactly what they are, and why they are vastly more powerful than these seven sad pigeons sitting across from me?”

Azrael: “I thought we were friends?”

“My bad, six pigeons.”