Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

L eviathan reclined on a plush velvet chair, his bare feet propped up on a mahogany desk. The incandescent light of flickering candles cast eerie shadows across the ornate room, adorned with tapestries depicting demonic figures and shelves lined with ancient tomes of forbidden knowledge. He meticulously inspected each invitation for his upcoming ball, ensuring every detail was perfect. The deep red ink, the intricate calligraphy, and the carefully chosen flowers radiated with a palpable sense of perfection sure to draw envy. This ball would be his chance to show the underworld that he was not to be trifled with.

He reached out to the small bell hanging from a chain and rang it, the sharp chime echoing throughout the room. Though he could not feel it himself, Leviathan knew a shiver had just run down the spine of his trusted messenger imp, a magical side effect of the bell.

Within seconds, the air swirled with gray smoke, and Ignis appeared, his yellow eyes wide. “My Lord?”

Leviathan leaned forward, his elbows banging onto the desk. “Tonight, we issue the invitations to the lesser demons. Make sure each one is delivered within the hour. The High Demon Lords received there’s personally, and now you and yours will deliver the rest to ensure the lower demons stew with envy that I did not make an appearance before them.”

Leviathan gestured to the scrolls piled up taller than he stood by the side of his desk. Every meticulous detail would not be entrusted to those who served him.

“As you wish, my liege,” the imp bowed low, its wings trembling as it took the stack of invitations.

Leviathan knew once word spread of the ball the lower ranks would clamor for an invitation. He smirked, a wicked glint in his piercing blue eyes. No one would overlook him for lust ever again.

In his mind’s eye, Leviathan already saw the covetous glances, the seething envy, and the desperate attempts to outdo him. Pride swelled in his demonic heart. This ball would solidify his position as the most powerful and feared lord of the underworld. He couldn’t help but grin to himself as he thought of the chaos that would ensue when all the best possessions in the realm were brought before him–gifts that he had not yet mentioned he would keep.

“Be quick, I wish to bask in the envy of those who are not worthy.” Leviathan shooed the trustworthy imp away, watching as the scrolls poofed in the same smoke as the imp came and went with. “Now for everything else.

The date was set, and the invitations were drawn up, but Leviathan had more work to do. Every detail would be carefully planned, considering the realm’s deepest desires to ensure he evoked the most intense envy and found the perfect queen.

With a firm push of his heavy wooden chair, Leviathan rose from his writing desk and made his way across the dimly lit study to the iron cauldron standing against the far left wall. The metal gleamed in the low light, hinting at its potential for danger and magic. As he approached, he could feel the heat emanating from the cauldron, warming his skin and stirring his senses. With a practiced hand, he lifted the lid and peered inside, the scent of desire filled his nose like chocolate and honey mead savored at once.

This was where he honed his craft, where he stole the knowledge of what his subjects desired so he could create it, steal it, destroy it—whatever it took to drive them mad with envy.

He dipped a finger in, swirling it around and watching as the colors shifted and changed to different shades of green. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled it free and brought it to his lips, savoring the drop that dangled from his nail.

As he savored the taste, Leviathan’s mind drifted to all the things he desired - power, wealth, control over all beings in the realm. But above all else, he craved respect. The kind of respect that came with fear and envy.

With a confident smirk, Leviathan knew how to make this subject pant with envy. “Chocolate cakes with caramel insides served on plates of solid gold.”

He could stand here for decades, tasting and learning what every envious desire was, but there wasn’t time for that.

No, he would need to bathe the imps in the liquid, giving them the ability to speak the truth of the stolen envy. With them delivering the scrolls, Leviathan would have to settle for a few stolen envies for now.

Leviathan used his left hand, allowing the liquid to coat his hand before pulling it free. The sparkling green dripped as he raised his hand above his mouth, letting the envy drip over his tongue.

“Flowers and sunshine.” he mused as a drop of envy made contact. “I’m certain I can figure that out.” Another drop.

Leviathan’s mind wandered to the stunning human he had encountered earlier.

Ashe.

Her name danced in his thoughts like a waltz amongst the stars. Her beauty was unmatched, even by human standards covered in filth - though most demons did not covet human beauty.

He could still see her flowing red hair swaying softly against her back as she moved, and those piercing ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce right through him. The warmth from the cauldron’s flames danced around him as he walked, adding another layer of sensation that only heightened his awareness of her presence.

With every step Leviathan took, anxiety built within him. He had never been so captivated before, and it was both thrilling and terrifying to know that he truly experienced envy at this moment.

The warmth of her skin as he’d touched her the other day became a phantom heat beneath his fingers. The softness of her flesh had been intoxicating. A tremble ran through him as he imagined having her all to himself, free from the jealous grip of Belial.

Belial .

He wondered if Belial would bring her as his prized possession. A shiver rushed through him at the idea of her being here in his palace.

Leviathan left the comfort of the study, his wings crashing against a servant as he moved through the hall. He hadn’t felt the connection but did hear the small thump against the leathery surface of his wings. His mind was too focused, too fixated on Ashe here, a human where only demons belonged.

Humans were not meant to be in Terra Daemoniums, yet many often were—brought by demons for their own ends.

Leviathan’s thoughts raced as he made his way toward the grand hall where the feast would take place. He would visualize the space to take his mind off the human.

There was no space for the toxic emotion of envy to take root in Leviathan’s mind. His entire being was consumed with the single-minded focus of capturing the envy of others, not indulging in the fleeting notion that a mere mortal could satisfy his insatiable desires. He could feel the urge swirling within him, like a raging sea ready to consume anything in its path. But he knew better than to give into it, to lose himself in the dangerous game of coveting what others had. For Leviathan, envy was a weapon to be wielded, not a weakness to be succumbed to.