The celebration Mari had promised stretched into a proper evening of festivities, the group claiming a private room at one of Velmoor's better taverns, and for a few genuine hours, Diablo allowed himself to simply exist without the weight of coalition politics or ancient threats pressing against every decision. It was well past midnight by the time he finally made his way back to the manor, pleasantly worn out in the way only real relief could produce, and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the moment his head found the pillow.The communication circle stirred him awake sometime before dawn.Diablo sat up immediately, recognizing the faint, familiar pulse of mana radiating from the study downstairs, a rhythm distinctly different from his own casual check ins with Rias. This was urgent, deliberately marked as such by whoever had initiated the connection from Malgorath's side. He made his way down quickly, finding the circle already glowing steadily on the study's desk, waiting for hi

The preparations took a little over a week to properly settle, Diablo working through guild correspondence, arranging for Halbert to maintain the manor's grounds during his absence, and spending as much time as he reasonably could with Natsu's group before the eventual departure. When the morning finally arrived, he found himself standing alone in the manor's private training yard just before dawn, the same quiet space where he'd trained for months since securing this small piece of the human world as genuinely his own.He drew the crossing circle carefully into the packed earth, a considerably more elaborate working than the simple communication circle he used to speak with Rias, ancient sigils spiraling outward from a central point in a pattern that had remained unchanged since the earliest days of his rule over Malgorath. Mana gathered steadily as he channeled the working to completion, the air within the circle's boundary beginning to shimmer with a faint, violet distortion that m

The first day of preparation passed largely in briefings, Rias walking Diablo through the current political landscape in exhaustive detail, which hive lords had aligned themselves with Vrask's faction, which remained genuinely neutral, and which had quietly maintained loyalty to the throne despite the uncertainty of his prolonged absence. Diablo absorbed the information carefully, rebuilding his understanding of Malgorath's political currents after months spent focused entirely on considerably more straightforward human concerns."Sixteen hive lords hold voting influence within the formal audience structure," Rias explained, spreading a detailed map across the council chamber's central table, obsidian markers denoting each territory's current allegiance. "Of those, five have openly aligned with Vrask's position, arguing your absence justifies reconsidering the current succession. Seven remain loyal to the throne regardless of circumstance, largely out of either genuine conviction or p

The silence stretched long enough that several of the assembled hive lords began exchanging uncertain glances, the unprecedented nature of the offer clearly weighing on Vrask as heavily as it had surprised the rest of the chamber. Diablo held his position at the chamber's center, patient despite the mounting tension, giving the ambitious noble genuine space to weigh a decision that would define not just his own future, but the entire political trajectory of Malgorath's uncertain succession crisis.Finally, Vrask rose from his seat once more, his expression carrying a complicated mixture of calculation and something closer to genuine, reluctant respect."You surprise me, my lord," he said, his voice carrying across the hushed chamber. "I expected either dismissal or direct confrontation, the traditional responses this realm has always favored when authority faces genuine challenge. I did not expect an offer that actually acknowledges the substance behind my concerns, rather than simply

Life in Velmoor settled back into its familiar rhythm within days of Diablo's return from Malgorath, the manor's routine of morning training and afternoon guild work resuming as though the political crisis and formal audience had happened in some entirely separate existence rather than simply across a thinning boundary between worlds. Vasryn greeted his return with visible relief, formally reinstating his active guild registration with minimal fuss beyond a brief, private conversation about how the crisis had actually resolved."An advisory position, rather than combat," Vasryn said, considering the outcome with genuine interest once Diablo had shared the broad details. "That's a considerably more sophisticated resolution than I might have expected from a realm built on raw strength, if your own descriptions of demonic politics are accurate.""It surprised a few people there too," Diablo admitted. "Myself included, if I'm honest.""Sounds like your time here left more of an impression