With everyone dispersed and Diablo being carried away by his henchmen, the serpent woman approached the demon child who has just acted like a complete tyrant toward his followers, for a good reason but still questionable.

"That was an inspiring message you just sent, milord! Truly worthy of the king of our kind!" the lamia bowed to Alastor.

"You...I remember you. Martel, was it? You were the only one who spoke out for me earlier. What do you want?" Alastor uttered, posing his head on his clutch resting on one side of the throne.

"Only to pay my respect for the heir of Lord Asgore's legacy and to swear my allegiance to you!" the serpent asserted.

"And here I thought all the demons are supposed to swear allegiance to the demon lord already. Am I wrong in thinking that?" asked the boy.

"In theory yes but there are two problems. First of all, you have not officially declared yourself as the demon lord, leaving a certain doubt in the heart of the others. Secondly, there is a different between swearing allegiance to you directly and how people thought it was. By forcing them to take an Oath, you can make sure that none of your followers can ever plot anything against you." Martel explained.

"That sounds like a slavery pact..." Alastor thought out loud, closing his eyes.

"It's basically one." Martel replied.

"Then I won't need it. If peace is based on fear and pacts, it won't last long. I want to change the idea of the people, not forcing them into it."

"Didn't you do that just now? To force people against their will?"

"..." Alastor flinched his eye at the women who seemed to have discovered something very interesting about her lord.

"Unless...you have something else in your mind." She playfully jested.

"..What do you mean?" the demon lord asked.

"Unless the tyrant is not a tyrant at all." The lamia smiled at the boy. "You did that on purpose, didn't you? Using Diablo as an example, you tried to make yourself appear as a despot. A desperate and unwise strategy that may force others to follow you in the beginning but not for a long term.

However, we can look at this from another view. If the person in question doesn't intend to be king for a long time but instead will put someone else in his replacement, this course of action will allow a much better and smoother transition of the throne for the successor as many were already discontent with you.

Did I get that right?"

"...Who are you really?" asked the boy with an unhappy expression. His plan has just been unveiled by this woman. Indeed, just like she said, Alastor has deliberately tried to demonstrate his cruelty to instil fear into the demons. That would assure Morrigan's plan for peace would go smoothly for now until he found a replacement that would 'rescue' the demons from his tyranny.

"My name is Martel, Consort of the Lamias. I used to serve your father in the past until he...passed away." Martel stuttered. For a moment, Alastor could see the anguish shown through the woman's expression. Just like when he asked about his father from Mephisto or any of the royal demon guard, they all shared a certain sadness, regret for their lord. After all, they were all loyal servants who weren't there if not to save their master then at the very least to die with him. Only, Martel was somehow different. Somehow, for an unknown reason, in that short moment of her true self, the boy could feel that there was something more in her words, a feeling much more profound than just a loyal servant's grief for her master, something tender and deep. Alas, it passed by like a swift wind and Martel has already regained her composure before resuming. "I failed in serving him until the end. But I vow that I will do everything I could to protect his descendants, to serve them as I once served my former lord."

"Lovely words but in the end, words stay as words. If you are indeed loyal to me, prove it through your actions! Starting from today, you will be the Duchess of Ragna, same rank with the four royal demon guards. You will be the leader of all the bunch that just left. Your mission is to establish a stable jointure with Valhalla, to easr the tension between our people while making sure that the Discovery Accord is to proceed smoothly without any intervention from any of those who might think of doing something stupid." Alastor proclaimed. "Show it to me how you intend to serve me!"

"It would be an honour milord! By all means, I would be more than happy to take on this mission but don't you think it would be more appropriate to choose someone from the royal demon guards for this task? They have all more or less been respected by everyone while I am simply the leader of a demon clan, much less of an appropriate candidate compared to them." Martel inquired.

"There are a few reasons for this. First, it's all about appearance. I know it's crude and perhaps impolite on my part to judge people based on appearance alone but for the people out there, a first impression and how you look will determinate your success since the very beginning. If the primes could see that there are demons who look like them, it will help to establish communication much easier than those with 'strange' morphology like monsters. Mephisto is too serious. Naberius looks like he is about to eat you alive. Azureus in some way can be called cute but he is a slime. Amelia...well Amelia could work but if I pick her, the other three may not be happy. You, on the other hand, if you excuse my way of saying this, look rather pleasing to the eye. Even if you are half serpent, I am sure most of the men out there won't have any problem with you as long as you don't bare your fangs at them.

Secondly, I know that the four used to agree with my father's idea but after his death, they changed. At the moment, they still listen to me but I doubt they can fully commit themselves to this goal. It will come with time but I have no time to wait for them. As for you, you may also be one of my father's followers but unlike the rest, I see that you are a reasonable person and can keep yourself under check when the circumstances demand it. Of course so would Mephisto but I already told you why he is not an option.

Finally, today it's the first time I have met you all. From first glance, I can see that Mephisto has a hard time to control all of you, even if he is one of the four. Therefore, I need someone whom they trust, someone among them. Based on the previous commotion, it's either you or Diablo. And you know that Diablo is currently...unavailable nor do I want to have that cunt on my side.

In the end, the most logical choice would be you." Alastor explained.

"Amazing! You have seen through all of that and made your own assessment in that short amount of time..." Martel uttered in awe. "I was not wrong to say that you are worthy of being our leader. Too bad you have no intention of doing so. Still, that doesn't explain why would you trust me. Won't it be safer for you to just let me make an Oath to you?" asked Martel.

"If I need an Oath to keep you in check, I would be a terrible leader. And don't worry! I can always find you if you ever screw up! You can be sure of that. But I do hope it won't have to come to that."

"Of course, milord! I won't fail you! If you excuse me, I will go and make my preparation right away." Martel bowed to the boy before turning away. However, half way toward the door, she was stopped by his voice.

"By the way, Martel, before you go, there is something I should clarify." Alastor spoke loudly.

"Yes, milord?"

"It's true that I deliberately tried to be cruel in front of you all earlier. But what I did to Diablo, that wasn't cruelty. That was benevolence, or at least whatever that is left of it inside me. If I didn't want to antagonize too much for it might lead to a revolt, losing his arm would be the last thing that devil ever needs to worry about.

So mark my words, Martel, to the deepest edge of your mind: don't disappoint me!"

That smile again. Such baleful locutions coming such an innocuous lad! The dissonance solely intensified the feeling of dread Martel felt earlier when she saw how Alastor simply torn one of her comrades' limb like nothing. That wasn't a king pretending to be a tyrant for his people. That was genuine terror incarnated in the body of a young boy. What he just said, he meant by every word of it. It was a blessing that someone like him wanted to have peace. Yet deep inside, Martel knew that this terror was only being chained up by the ones he loved, to be sealed away in a corner of the abyssal consciousness.

As the woman nodded to those words and walked away from that thing sitting on the throne, she realized something. But what about the day when those chains broke? What would happen then? Without those bounds restraining him, the day this accursed beast would be unleashed, it would be the end of everything.

Back to Alastor, now that everyone was gone, he could finally go back to see what Lilith was seeking him for. One thing for sure: when an ancient blood goddess wanted to speak to you, it would never be something good.

Well actually he didn't need to go look for her. From the throne, Alastor could already feel her presence coming closer and closer, together with her loud voice echoing through the hall.

"ALASTOR!"

Coming out the hallway Mephisto and the others appeared from earlier, the small elf lashed out the moment she saw the boy casually sitting on the throne, smiling at her.

"To whom do you own this pleasure?" Alastor jested.

"To your goddamn tardiness! I asked you to come back as soon as you can, not for you to play around for three days before coming back." The red haired girl grunted.

"Did you hear about what I am been 'playing around with'?"

"I don't care about your war or Valhalla. We have a problem." The girl shouted.

"What kind of problem?"

"...It's complicated so come with me! I will explain on the way." The elf grabbed Alastor's hand and dragged him away forcefully.

"So where are we going?" said Alastor as he was pulled away against his will.

"The dungeon."

"Why? What is the dungeon of the castle?"

"Your doll"

.....

On his way to the underground of the castle, Lilith has informed Alastor of her discoveries at the Artificer's mansion. At the moment, everything relevant from that mansion has been brought back to the castle as Noroeth was trying to decipher and translate the pact. While the old language has been lost, there still must be something that might help him in his research in the Vault. After all, there were books and objects that existed since the time of the Gods still being preserved there. All they could do now was waiting for him to finish it.

In addition, the memories Theron lost before his death have been returned. While remaining vague as there were no relevant clues about who the killer might be, he remembered one odd thing: the Artificer's visit on Alastor's birthday. Although the lich believed that the Artificer was innocent considered the timing of his arrival, a particular detail struck him. The old man didn't come alone; he was with the doll Stella that day. So if that was the case, why didn't Stella say anything? You would think that such an important piece of evidence would not be so easily overlooked and it would be unthinkable to say that she simply forgot about it. Furthermore, the Artificer's circumstances of death were also suspicious. If we assumed that Theoron's memories were to be correct, then old Marcus and Stella were at the scene when the massacre happened. Yet, they were not there when the demons and heroes came back to the castle. A few days later, a letter requesting Celdora and Arshe to come at his mansion but the old man seemed to be greatly injured and later found dead together with Stella.

Based on the evidences shown and after a careful inspection together with Mephisto and the others, Lilith deduced that perhaps Marcus and Stella have fought against the culprit. Whatever the outcome of that battle, it left Marcus critically injured. That would explain why Marcus was found back in his home. He or possibly Stella helped him to flee the scene. Since the mansion was not that far from the castle and someone who could kill both Asgore and Lakyus would have no problem pursuing the two, it was highly possibly that the culprit was also injured, preventing him or her or them to make the pursue. Again, this was all speculation based on the clues they found. Still, it didn't explain why Stella remained silent all these years without telling anyone. Therefore, for safety reasons, they have decided to lock the doll in the dungeon under constant surveillance until further notice.

Walking through the dim lighted corridor, Alastor finally stopped in front of a rather large cell barricaded with iron bars. Flashback of a not so distant past came to his mind as he remembered what happened here. It was in this same cell that Shana and the other children from the orphanage were kept. It was here that Alastor ended their lives. And now he was back, to this same cell again as one of the members of his family was being held inside.

Although situated one level below the ground, tiny windows on the wall let the incandescent light coming in, revealing the figure inside the cell: a pale girl in a frilly white outfit covering all her upper half but revealed the skin around her neck. Wearing a black tight covering her legs and a small circlet on her silky silver hair, the girl sat on her knees in silence with her eyes closed, creating a solemn atmosphere under the ray of incandescent light that was shining upon her. Despite being imprisoned here, she didn't have any restraint that could possibly hold her here. And these iron bars could be easily broken. But escape was not her intention. No, she herself wanted to be here, waiting for her master to return.

Hearing his footsteps stop in front of her cell, the doll opened its eyes to greet her owner.

"Stella?" Alastor called out to the girl, holding on to the bar.

"You are back!" Said the girl in a monotone voice with a shocked expression.

"Why did you lock her here? Look at her! She didn't even try to run." Shouted Alastor at the goddess by his side.

"It wasn't me. Though I would be lying if I say that it didn't come to my mind that this is the best way to do it." Lilith admitted.

A voice rang inside Alastor's head, a voice he didn't hear for a long time 'It's not Lilith's fault, little bro. Don't be angry at her! Stella wanted this.' It was Alice using her bond to speak with the boy.

"Stella? Why would she want this?" asked Alastor.

"After we told her what we found at the Artificer's mansion and Theoron's memories, Stella admitted remembering that she came to the castle together with the old man. However, she remembered nothing about that incident. Using my own power, I confirm that she was speaking the truth. Still, she insisted on being locked up in case she would be a danger to us...to you. She was afraid that perhaps the culprit did something to her that might put you at risk....And so..." explained the Goddess.

"Stella....I am getting her out." Alastor smashed the iron bar opened and walked toward the doll inside.

"Fine with me!" Lilith said as she exited the dungeon. "I have other things to do than watch her any anyway."

With the Bringer of Flesh gone, only the doll and her master were left in this eerie space. Crouching down to her, the boy extended his right hand.

"Can you stand, Stella?"

"Alastor...you must not let me out. What if I am being controlled? What if I am under a spell so that person could harm you...I must stay away from you." The doll said. While she had trouble to express emotions, Alastor could still see a hint of sadness hid behind that expressionless face. And the way she hesitated meant how painful it was for her to say those words.

"I believe in you, Stella. You are the first person who was on my side and you still are even now. You are part of my family and I won't ever let you go, no matter the reason. Besides, no one can harm at this point. And if that person, whoever it is, tries to do something to you to get me, I will make sure he or she won't live another day." Holding the doll's cold hands, Alastor comforted her.

"But..."

"If you want to be sure that nothing is wrong in you, that you are not under some kind of spell, how about I ask Magnus to check? If there is any trace of magic used on you, he will be able to detect it, no matter how faint it might be. Would you be okay with that?"

With a simple nod in agreement, Alastor proceeded to call out to Magnus in his mind. If Lilith was an expert in the physical body, then Magnus would be the master of magic and the soul. Nothing would be able to escape his crimson. Alastor's hands began to turn transparent, abandoning its physical form and adopted on an ephemeral state.

Reaching inside the doll's chest, her memories of that day, the day Alastor was born, flowed into his mind.

* * *

Opening his eyes, Alastor found himself inside a dim lighted room. The vision was a bit blurry and unstable but before Alastor realized it, his body was moving by itself. No..this wasn't his body...it felt ...different. In fact, he had no control at all of his actions. But if it was not his then whose was it? The answer came almost immediately. Passing by the mirror before stopping a few foot away from an old man seemingly preparing something, Alastor could the reflection of the body, a familiar figure.

"Where are we going?" the body Alastor was seeing everything from spoke. This voice...he recognized it. It was Stella's body he was possessing, or more like watching from. Then it would mean that old man in front of him was Marcus, the old Artificer.

"To the demon lord's castle! I need to bring him the crown he asked me to make for his new-born son. Perhaps it is too soon but there is a high chance that the boy will become a demon lord in the future so we might as well make a pact for him." The old man said in a grave voice.

"What pact are you talking about?"

"Ah yes I forgot to install the memories of the last Stella in you so it's understandable that you didn't know. But it's not a problem. You have all the basic data pre-installed and you won't stay here for long anyway."

"Where would I be going then?"

"I intend to give you as a birthday present for the boy. You will take care of him, protect him until he is able to do so himself."

"...Of course, Father!" Stella quietly uttered.

As he stood up and turned away, upon hearing the word "Father", the old man clenched his fist as he spoke in a loud angry voice. "You...don't have the right to say that word."

"Father?"

Without warning, Marcus turned around in an instant and slapped the doll, pushing her against the mirror and broke it. How was such a fragile old man could hit her that hard? The answer was simple. In that short moment, he revealed the mechanical limb he used to hit the doll. In fact, half his body was already made out of iron with strange green light trailing across the surface. That was his secret, how he managed to live all those years, by replacing his own body with machines.