Percy Jackson: The Firstborn

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: Shirone

While Damon and Venelana spent their evening atop Gremory Castle, the Underworld continued its course. The night had been controlled chaos for the emergency teams working without rest through the streets of Lilith. The Phenex, in particular, had been forced to mobilize a historic quantity of Phenex Tears to stabilize the demons wounded during the battle.

The House of Phenex had bled its fortune in the form of golden tears, and though no one dared say it aloud, the cost had been so high that the Underworld would take years — perhaps decades — to recover enough to even consider a future conflict. Rumors already spread among the noble houses: the debt the Phenex had accumulated was so vast that even their legendary wealth was teetering.

XXXXXXXX

The light of the Underworld’s artificial sun filtered through the curtains of Zeoticus’s study, bathing the mahogany desk where hours earlier a heated negotiation had taken place. The warm rays cut through the floating dust and reached the leather sofa where two bodies rested intertwined.

Venelana opened her eyes slowly. The first sensation was the heat radiating from Damon’s body as her cheek rested against his bare chest, and she could hear the steady beating of his heart. The second thing she registered was the comfort she currently felt — she had slept peacefully, even without a bed.

She had slept as deeply as she hadn’t in years, perhaps decades. Her body was completely relaxed, every muscle loose, her mind blank, free from the worries that normally woke her before dawn due to her duties as Gremory matriarch.

Memories of the previous night invaded the brown-haired woman’s mind: her screams, her actions, the sound of her own voice offering herself, followed by everything that had happened after. Heat rose to her cheeks, and with embarrassment, she buried her face against Damon’s chest. It wasn’t proper for a lady to scream the way she had last night.

”Finally the sleeping beauty awakens,” Damon said, his voice rough from sleep, tinged with obvious amusement. Venelana lifted her head and met his half-lidded eyes and that arrogant smile so characteristic of him. ”Good morning,” she murmured, her voice sounding slightly worn from the countless screams she’d let out the night before.

”Did you sleep well?” the redhead asked in a mocking tone, making Venelana look away, though she couldn’t stop a timid smile from escaping. ”I don’t remember the last time I slept so deeply.”

”Hmmm, yes, good sex has that effect,” the god replied with a suggestive smile. Venelana tapped his chest, the gesture carrying no force. Damon laughed, a deep sound that resonated against her body. ”We should bathe,” Venelana said as she sat up. ”I have... we have a long day ahead.”

Damon watched her as she rose, her dark red hair falling in disarray over her bare shoulders. ”After you, Lady Gremory.” She rolled her eyes, though the smile stayed on her face.

XXXXXXXX

The bath was long and clearly filled with activity. When they emerged, both dressed and presentable, Venelana had recovered much of her composure. Her hair was loose in her typical style, she wore her classic white dress with black trim, and her serene matriarch expression was back in place. Damon, for his part, wore simple Greek clothing: a white tunic with gold trim that contrasted with his build.

That was when they heard the knocking at the door. ”Mom? Are you in there?”

Venelana recognized the voice instantly — it was her daughter, Rias. Without making her wait, she opened the door naturally. The red-haired Gremory wore her crimson hair loose and a loose black dress. ”Rias, dear. Good morning.”

”Mother, I’ve been looking for you all over the castle. They told me you’d been in here since...” Rias stopped when her gaze fell on the figure standing behind her mother.

Damon was there, leaning against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, watching her with calm. Rias froze.

”Ah,” Damon said, not bothering to hide his amusement. ”You must be Venelana’s daughter that I’ve heard so much about.”

Rias blinked. Her mouth opened and closed. She knew perfectly well who this man was — at this point, who didn’t? After what he’d done to her brother, Rias would never forget that aggressor. But seeing him here, in her own home, standing as if he owned the place, was disorienting.

”Rias,” Venelana’s voice cut through the silence, firm and calm. ”Allow me to introduce you. This is Lord Damon; he spent the entire night here negotiating with me.”

Rias frowned. ”The entire night?”

”Important matters, dear. A matriarch must always watch over and work hard for her house — you’ll understand when you take my position,” Venelana said, holding her daughter’s gaze without blinking. ”Besides, Damon-sama and Kuoh’s affairs required a great deal of careful attention from me.”

Damon stepped forward and placed a hand on Venelana’s shoulder. She felt his fingers slide down her back until they settled on her rear, where he squeezed gently. Venelana kept her expression perfectly neutral, but inwardly she had to make a conscious effort not to react.

”Yes,” Damon said, his tone light, casual. ”I’ve spoken with your mother about many things. She’s quite persuasive, you know.”

His fingers squeezed again, and Venelana felt her face warm. She kept her gaze fixed on her daughter, smiling with all the dignity she could muster.

”Lord Damon has been very generous,” Venelana said, her voice barely a note higher than normal. ”He has accepted certain agreements that will benefit both parties.”

Rias narrowed her eyes, clearly suspicious of something, though unable to identify what. ”What kind of agreements?”

”Kuoh,” Damon replied, removing his hand from Venelana’s rear with deliberate slowness. ”It’s now Greek territory.”

Rias’s face paled. ”What?”

”Your mother was smart enough to negotiate,” Damon continued, walking toward Rias with slow steps. ”I’ve decided to allow you to remain in the territory, under my supervision, of course.”

Rias clenched her fists. She wanted to say something, or rather to protest — it wasn’t fair, Kuoh was hers, her brother had promised it would be her territory. But a single look from her mother, that look that said behave yourself, stopped her. ”Thank you,” Rias said, and the words came out as if she were chewing glass.

”It’s nothing,” Damon replied, and his eyes drifted toward Venelana. ”It’s all thanks to your beautiful mother; she really is the best. You should be proud of her.”

Venelana felt her ears burn but maintained her composure. Rias, thankfully, didn’t catch the double meaning.

”Well,” Venelana said, clapping her hands together. ”Rias, did you need anything else? I have matters to attend to with Damon-sama.”

”I just wanted to see you, Mother. To make sure you were okay.”

”I’m perfectly fine. Why don’t you take the day off? Rest. There will be many meetings today.”

Rias hesitated, but nodded. Before she could leave, Damon spoke again. ”Speaking of things I need to attend to. I heard there’s a nekoshou here, in the castle.”

Rias spun around sharply. ”Koneko? What does that have to do with anything?”

”I have matters to discuss with her. Where is she?”

XXXXXXXX

The Gremory Castle’s living room was spacious, adorned with Victorian furniture and carpets that had passed through generations. In one corner, sitting on a sofa too large for her small body, was Shirone. Her short white hair framed an expressionless face, and her amber eyes stared into emptiness while she held a half-eaten bag of rice crackers.

When Damon entered the room, the nekoshou’s eyes fixed on him immediately with unexpected intensity, and her tiny fingers gripped the bag of crackers tightly.

”You,” she said, her voice flat but with a barely perceptible edge. ”You’re the one who controls senjutsu.”

Damon raised an eyebrow, amused. ”And what do you know about senjutsu?”

”You shouldn’t use it,” Shirone continued, ignoring his question. ”Senjutsu drives people mad. All nekoshou know this.”

Damon let out a low laugh that echoed through the room at the albino girl’s naivety. He settled onto the sofa across from her, resting his elbows on his knees. ”That’s a lie. Senjutsu doesn’t drive anyone mad. What drives people crazy is lack of control, the rush to obtain power without understanding what they’re handling, and the state of nature itself. Still, many other things can happen to you — like your entire body turning to stone. So really, using senjutsu without knowing what you’re doing is like a child playing with fire.”

Shirone looked at him, her eyes narrowed. ”But the masters said...”

”The masters told you what you needed to hear to be afraid,” Damon interrupted, his voice softer. ”Senjutsu is a tool. Like any tool, it depends on who uses it. Tell me, Shirone, have you actually seen anyone go mad from senjutsu?”

She was silent for a moment. ”Well, my sister used senjutsu and killed everyone.”

”If that were the case, why aren’t you dead too? Someone insane wouldn’t leave anyone alive. Something tells me there’s more to that story about your sister than you know,” Damon replied patiently.

Shirone looked down at her crackers. Damon watched her for a long moment, studying the small figure. What a reserved child.

”I’ve come to take you with me,” Damon said.

The moment those words left his mouth, Rias stepped forward. ”What? No. Shirone is my servant, she’s under my care. You can’t just...”

”Rias,” Venelana’s voice cut through Rias’s outburst firmly. ”Watch how you address Damon-sama.”

Rias turned to her mother, incredulous. ”But Mother...”

”Let me explain, girl.” Damon leaned back into the sofa, his arms stretching across the backrest. ”I’m not taking the little nekoshou on a whim. I’m taking her to reunite with her sister.”

Rias’s eyes widened. ”Kuroka? But she’s a criminal. She...”

”She did what she did to protect her little sister,” Damon interrupted, his tone turning to steel. ”Do you know what really happened when the demons invaded the nekoshou clan?”

Rias fell silent, not knowing how to answer that question.

”They told you a story, girl: that all nekoshou eventually went mad, that it was only a matter of time, that Kuroka was a threat. But let me ask you something: if the nekoshou were so dangerous, if Kuroka was so uncontrollable, why didn’t a single demon die during that invasion?” The question left both mother and daughter speechless; they had never considered that question before.

”All the nekoshou died,” Damon continued, his voice cold. ”Men, women, children... each one was killed by the demons you sent. Kuroka escaped with her sister, protecting her, and when the demons caught up, she did the only thing she could: fight. But according to you, she’s the crazy criminal completely out of control.”

Rias opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked at Shirone, who remained sitting in silence, her face as expressionless as ever, though a spark glimmered in her eyes. Something Rias had never seen before.

”That’s not...” Rias started, but her voice broke.

”That’s not what your brother told you, is it?” Damon smiled without warmth. ”Of course not.”

Shirone said nothing. She stayed there, motionless, accustomed to adults making decisions for her, resigned to having no voice in her own fate.

Damon rose, walked over to her, and knelt to meet her at eye level. ”Your sister is waiting for you, Shirone. You don’t have to decide anything now, but I want you to know that you have a choice. If you really want to come, I can free you from your position as a demon,” the redhead said, surprising both mother and daughter once more. After all, when a demon was reincarnated, it was nearly impossible to reverse — or so it was said, since there had never been cases of reincarnated demons ceasing to be demons.

Shirone’s eyes moistened slightly, but she didn’t cry. She simply nodded once, an almost imperceptible movement.

Damon stood up and looked at Rias. ”Any more objections?” Rias clenched her fists and looked toward her mother, who watched her with a clear warning in her eyes. Then she looked at Shirone, who was already getting up, ready to follow Damon.

”No,” she murmured through gritted teeth.

”That’s what I thought.”

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