Throximus stirred with a low groan, his body aching from the battle. His vision cleared slowly, revealing the stone ceiling above him.
He sat up and looked around. The room wasn't exactly small, but it was simple—solid, clean, and secure. There were no windows. The walls were lined with subtle runes, glowing faintly with containment magic. It wasn't a prison in appearance, but it definitely was in function.
Before he could piece things together, a familiar voice spoke.
"Did you like it? This will be your room from now on."
Throximus turned his head to see Arthur leaning casually against the doorway, back in his Incubus form. No wings. No glowing aura. Just a relaxed posture, arms folded, as if none of the violent chaos earlier had happened.
"You're joking," Throximus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
Arthur gave a small smirk. "I don't joke about interior design."
Throximus let out a dry laugh, then grew quiet. "...I thought you were going to kill me."
Arthur stepped forward, expression unreadable. "Don't you know, Throximus? A father's love is limitless."
"Urgh, don't start with that sentimental crap," Throximus groaned. "I'll vomit all over this nice little room of yours."
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "I expected as much. Still, you fought well. Better than I anticipated. You've grown stronger… But don't let it go to your head."
Then Arthur's tone shifted.
"I have a question." His voice carried a sharper edge. "Why did you and the others accept Ophis's power?"
Throximus blinked, surprised. He looked away for a moment, his fingers clenching the bedsheets.
"I thought it was obvious," he muttered. "To increase our power."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You? You never chased someone for power's sake. That was never your way."
Throximus let out a low breath. "It wasn't my idea. Azeroth convinced us. He said if we wanted to survive what's coming… we needed more strength. Said the world isn't the same as it used to be. That we couldn't keep relying on what we had."
Arthur stared at him quietly. "So you followed him."
Throximus shrugged. "He made it sound convincing. I won't pretend I didn't want more strength myself—but it wasn't like I signed some dark contract. It just… happened."
There was a beat of silence.
Throximus glanced away, jaw clenched. "So what now? Do I rot here forever?"
"No," Arthur said simply, walking toward the door. "This isn't punishment. It's protection… from yourself. You still don't know how far you've fallen. But maybe that can change."
He paused at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder. "And before you get any ideas about getting smart with me, let me give you a bit of advice."
Throximus raised an eyebrow.
"Your mother—Angrboda—will be arriving soon. I've asked her to speak with you. So, if you value your limbs, or frankly, your life… I suggest you keep your mouth in check. She has less patience than I do."
Throximus stiffened. "You're bringing her?"
Arthur nodded. "She's the only one you still listen to. Hopefully."
He turned to leave, pausing only once more. "I'll come back when you're ready to speak without swinging a sword. Oh, and Throximus…"
The Throximus looked up.
Arthur didn't turn back. "I'm glad you didn't die."
With that, Arthur stepped through the door, which shut quietly behind him, sealing the room with a subtle hum of magic.
Throximus sat there, alone again. His gaze drifted to the wall, then to the floor, then finally to his reflection in a silver plate left on the table.
🔹🔹🔹
Arthur stepped into Celestial Brews, the familiar scent of herbs, honey, and something faintly magical still lingering in the air. The shop was quiet now. The sun had yet to rise, but the night had clearly passed.
He scanned the lounge. Rias and her peerage were gone—likely returned to their house. But Renner and Evileye were still there, seated on the couch with warm drinks untouched on the table in front of them.
"You two didn't sleep?" Arthur asked as he unfastened his coat.
Evileye crossed her arms. "How could we? You left looking like the world was about to end."
"And with that face of yours—stone cold, not even a goodbye," Renner added, "I tried contacting Albedo. She didn't respond. Neither the call nor the message spells".
Arthur sighed and sat down opposite them, running a hand through his hair.
"Demiurge was attacked by Throximus." Arthur said as he poured a cup of coffee for himself.
"That's it? I thought it would be something serious." Evileye said, as if it were a normal occurrence.
Renner also let out a sigh of relief as it was not something serious.
"Hey, it was serious; I had to fight him in order to bring him back." Arthur said it as if he was offended by their reaction.
Previously, he was serious because he didn't know who attacked Demiurge. If it was someone else, he was ready to separate coal and charcoal.
[What does that proverb even means, sir.]
'Don't ask me; I thought it look good with that line.'
Hearing Arthur, Renner replied, "Given that you are the one who taught them, most of the problem can be solved with fists and money. I don't think it's a surprise that they attacked you, but unlike you, they will kill you if they get the chance." Renner said the latter half seriously.
"And because of that, I fully support Lady Albedo's idea." Renner said.
Hearing that, Evileye looked at Renner.
"You are asking him to eradicate his own children," Evileye said.
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