The Cursed Demon Prince-Chapter 241: Return To The Underworld

The sky above rippled like torn fabric, trembling beneath the pressure of the gateway Azazel tore open with a swipe of his clawed hand. His breathing was ragged, every inhale laced with rage and exhaustion. His wings dragged heavily behind him, frayed and blood stained, bones protruding from the torn membranes.

Yet despite the damage, it wasn’t Azazel who struggled the most.

A long trail of blood smeared the ground behind him, streaking along shattered stone and charred soil as he dragged Asmodeus by the ankle. The once arrogant demon now resembled a mangled corpse, his limbs bent at impossible angles, flesh shredded and bruised, infernal blood leaking from wounds that refused to heal. His horns had been cracked, one splintered nearly in half.

Every time the broken body scraped over jagged earth, Asmodeus wheezed, a strangled mixture of agony and hatred.

Azazel didn’t spare him a glance. His expression remained flat, his gaze fixed solely on the path ahead.

Above them, clouds thickened into a suffocating storm, lightning spiraling violently through the sky as the gateway pulsed.

With a guttural growl, he hauled Asmodeus toward the swirling vortex of darkness and stepped through without hesitation.

~~~

A violent wind clawed at them, dragging at their bodies as they were swallowed whole. The world twisted, reality pulled apart until it reformed into an endless valley. Lava pulsed through deep cracks, releasing steam that reeked of death, blood, and decay.

Screams echoed faintly in the distance, the lamentation of souls damned to eternal torment.

Azazel tightened his grip on Asmodeus and continued forward.

At the far end of the valley stood a throne fused into the mountain itself, jagged spires twisting upward like skeletal fingers gripping the sky. A towering figure reclined upon the throne, his presence distorting space around him, shadows writhing like serpents.

It was Lucifer, the devil, Lord of the Underworld.

His black wings stretched across the chamber like a shroud. His eyes glowed red with a fire older than creation, piercing through the smoky darkness and fixing immediately onto Azazel.

A thin smile curled across Lucifer’s lips.

"Azazel," he purred, his voice echoing through the space. "My dear servant. You return at last."

Azazel forced Asmodeus forward and tossed his ruined form at Lucifer’s feet. The body rolled, landing in a limp sprawl on the stone.

Lucifer leaned forward, studying the broken demon with an amused glint.

"Asmodeus," Lucifer crooned, mock sympathy coloring his tone, "how far the mighty have fallen."

Asmodeus’s remaining eye opened weakly, still filled with hatred, but a single glare was all he could muster before collapsing again.

Lucifer chuckled deeply. "A fitting end for a traitor."

Then his gaze lifted to Azazel.

"You have done well," Lucifer said, rising from his throne with fluid elegance. "Better than I expected, considering..." His red eyes narrowed, voice turning razor soft. "Considering what weighed on your heart."

Azazel’s jaw clenched. He bowed his head slightly.

"As commanded, Your Highness."

Lucifer approached slowly, the air trembling with every step. Shadows followed like loyal pets slithering at his heels.

"You resisted your weaknesses," Lucifer murmured, circling him. "You carried out the justice that should have been mine to deal with personally. I am..." His lips curled into a chilling smile. "...proud of you, Azazel."

Those words should have made him feel lighter, vindicated, but instead his throat clogged, suffocating him.

Lucifer stopped before him.

"For this loyalty, I shall grant you one wish, just as I promised."

His voice echoed through the cavern, flames flaring violently in response.

"Anything your heart desires. Speak it and I’ll bring it to reality."

Azazel paused as his fists trembled. His wings drooped, the weight of his choice dragging them down. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and stripped bare of all emotion.

"My wish is to erase every memory I have of her," he said, eyes cast downward. "Of my lover, that child, and everything tied to them and that fucking world."

He lifted his gaze, the emptiness inside him reflected in those once fierce eyes.

"I wish to forget everything and resume my place beside you."

Lucifer’s expression stilled for a fraction of a second. Something like intrigue flickered across his face.

"Erasure of love," Lucifer whispered. "That is a fate worse than death."

"I am aware," Azazel replied coldly.

Lucifer stepped closer, studying him with unsettling interest.

"Are you certain? Once the memories are gone, they are gone forever. Your heart will be reshaped. You will no longer mourn them, grieve them, seek them."

Azazel’s claws tightened, drawing black blood from his own palm.

"That is exactly what I want," he said. "I cannot serve you while chained to memories that make me weak."

Lucifer smiled.

"Very well. You have chosen well, I couldn’t be more proud of you, my beloved servant."

He stretched out his hand and pressed his palm to Azazel’s forehead. Instantly, the air thickened, heavy and suffocating.

"This will hurt," Lucifer warned softly.

A searing blaze erupted from Lucifer’s hand, burning through Azazel’s skull, spreading through mind and spirit. Azazel wanted to pull away as his body convulsed, eyes rolling back as agony unlike anything he had ever experienced shredded through him.

A scream tore from his lips, so raw and primal that it ripped straight from his soul.

His world collapsed into nothingness and then...

Silence.

Suddenly, a blinding white light exploded behind his eyes, forcing him to squint. Everything around him vanished, swallowed by a brilliance too overwhelming to comprehend. The heat faded and pain suspended as his breathing slowed.

As he adjusted to the brightness, shapes gradually formed, shadows sharpening into outlines. His mind drifted through a fog of unfamiliar void.

Then...

"Azazel?"

He heard a soft voice, one he knew too well. A voice that frightened him to the bone.

A voice that pierced through his hollowed mind and froze him in place.

Every muscle tightened. The blood in his veins turned to ice.

His heart, whatever remained of it stuttered.

No. It couldn’t be.

Yet the voice came again, closer this time.

"Azazel... look at me."

And just like that, against his will, he slowly turned toward the source.