Akashic Records of the Bastard Child Engaged to a Goddess

Chapter 310 Serving a new master?

Chapter 310 Serving a new master?

This arc ends in the next chapter.

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Isadora Interlude Arc

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(POV: Akashic Records)

Some months had elapsed since Isadora's daring escape from the Abyssal Heights, and now she was in the safety of the Berijin territory. Having become one of Belram's trusted subordinates, along with a select few other demons, Isadora was settling into her new role. Initially, when she learned of Belram's position as a powerful demon lord, she imagined a vast army of minions under his command. However, to her surprise, he only had around two hundred demons serving him. It was a modest number compared to her expectations, but the demons of the territory held great reverence for Belram. They saw him as a compassionate and fair leader, uninterested in amassing power or expanding his domain.

All he desired was a tranquil existence within his territory.

He was a demon lord with no enemies.

Isadora made her way down the ornate hallway of the Berijin Manor.

She soon arrived at the door to Belram's chamber and rapped gently upon it.

"Um, Master? It's Leya..."

Isadora decided to use a fake name instead of her actual one.

"Come in," a weary voice called out from the other side.

Isadora turned the handle and entered the room.

There, she found Belram seated in an elegant chair beside a cluttered desk, strewn with papers, a quill, and an ink bottle.

He appeared exhausted, his features etched with fatigue.

"Leya, you're here already. My apologies, I seem to have lost track of time amidst my pile of work," Belram said, mustering a tired smile.

Isadora offered him a gentle nod and smiled in response.

"It's alright, Master," she reassured him. "You've been working tirelessly lately. Is everything alright?"

Her genuine concern for him, always made Belram feel happy.

Belram sighed and leaned back in his chair, his weariness evident.

"Ah, yes, everything is fine. I'm just a little worn out, that's all," he replied, attempting to downplay his condition.

But Isadora could see beyond his facade.

His complexion was pallid, his eyes heavy with fatigue, and a slight feverishness clung to him.

Isadora approached him cautiously. "Master, you need to take better care of yourself," she insisted, sounding a bit worried. "Don't neglect your health for the sake of your duties. You're important to all of us."

Belram's eyes softened as he looked into Isadora's concerned gaze.

He chuckled a bit. "Haha~ I didn't know you cared that much about me, Leya..."

Isadora's cheeks turned a little red, she folded her arms and looked to the side. "Well, of course, you're my Master after all... Why wouldn't I?"

Isadora stood by Belram's side, a wooden bowl in her hands.

"Master, we've already prepared your meal for the afternoon," she announced, her voice light.

"But wait... it's already afternoon?!" Belram exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He rushed to the window and glanced outside. The once tranquil demons of the territory now bustled with newfound energy, their activity signaling the passage of time.

Placing his hands on his waist, Belram sighed, realizing he'd been working much longer than he expected.

"I swear, I was just planning to do a little work in the morning then survey the territory..."

Isadora chuckled softly. "It's alright, Master," she reassured him with a gentle smile. "The others took care of the daily sweep of the territory. Everything?s in order."

Comfort washed over him as he turned to Isadora. His shoulders felt light already.

He then exhaled a sigh of relief. "Oh, thanks. I don't know what I'd do without you guys," he confessed.

Isadora smirked as she replied, her tone teasing. "You'd probably die, but that's by the way," she said.

Belram laughed, a warm sound that matched his personality. "Hey, that's not nice," he retorted, playfully swatting at her arm.

Isadora smirked, growing serious as she gestured toward the bowl. "Well, enough about that. You should come eat already," she urged him.

Belram obediently made his way to the bed, taking a seat next to Isadora. Curiosity crept into his voice as he asked, "Who cooked?" as he tried to take the bowl to eat.

Then, Isadora held the bowl just out of his reach.

"Firstly, I'll be the one to feed you," she stated. "And, secondly, I'm the one who made your lunch for today."

"Oh, I've never eaten your cooking before. I'm sure it's great..."

"Y... Yeah..."

"Hm?" Belram curiously looked at her. "Is anything wrong?"

"Hm, no, no, uh, nothing's wrong at all..."

"Alright then, let's see... What... You... Coo..."

When Isadora opened up the wooden bowl to reveal its contents, Belram's eyes widened in shock.

Before him sat a purple concoction unlike anything he had ever seen before. It looked like a disgusting blob trapped in a bowl, and Belram already took a step back in uncertainty.

"H... Hey, I... Is that safe?" he stammered.

But Isadora, not giving Belram a chance to escape, simply hid her embarrassment. "Just eat it already," she urged as she held a spoonful of the purple concoction.

Without a moment's hesitation, she swiftly shoved the spoonful into Belram's mouth.

Belram's entire face turned a sickly shade of green, and he collapsed onto the bed, his body wracked with discomfort. Panic filled Isadora's voice as she shouted, "Oh no! D... Don't tell me I've killed Master!" She hurriedly leaned in to check if he was alright, her heart pounding in her chest.

"This is bad... This is really bad..."

As she watched, she couldn't hear him breathing.

But then, to her astonishment, Belram rose up from the bed as if from thin air, gasping for breath, a look of relief washing over his features. Panting heavily, he placed a hand on his chest, visibly shaken by the experience.

Isadora, her hands still shaking, placed them on Belram's cheeks and pulled his face close to hers. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Belram nodded slowly, his breathing starting to normalize as a small smile tugged at his lips. "I'm okay," he reassured her. "I have the [Poison Resistance] skill."

Isadora's eyes widened, her anxiety quickly turning into disbelief.

"Are you trying to say my food is poison?!" she exclaimed, gently pulling on his cheeks with her fingers.

Belram chuckled nervously, his laughter tinged with nervousness.

"No, it's not like that," he began with a soft voice. "It's just that... I almost died after eating it."

Belram paused, his gaze capturing Isadora's.

"Uh, Leya... we're awfully close, you know," he pointed out.

Isadora's gentle frown melted into a contemplative expression.

"Yeah, I guess I am..."

"It kind of reminds me about the first time we met..."

"Yeah."

"You told me tha—"

Before Belram could say anymore, Isadora kissed him and he also joined the rhythm.

They had sex.

After, Isadora and Belram found themselves lying naked in bed, their bodies glowing with the aftermath of body rubbing.

They gazed up at the ceiling.

"Uh, Master, I know it's both our first time... But you're not really good at it are you.."

They only went for 8 minutes.

Belram's face flushed crimson, embarrassment overtaking him.

He turned to look at Isadora. "You don't need to make fun of me, Leya," he murmured softly. "I... I wasn't in top form."

Isadora reached out to caress Belram's cheek tenderly. "Lies, but that's alright," she sighed. "That's not something you should worry yourself about. You're still looking a bit feverish, though."

Belram coughed, partly uncomfortable. "It's nothing," he rasped, trying to dismiss her concern. But Isadora stretched her arms gracefully and leaned in closer. "Either way," she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear, "maybe you'll be better at it next time."

"Next time?" Belram repeated, surprise edging into his voice.

"Of course," she shrugged. "It's definitely not a one-time thing..."

Belram's gaze shifted away, his shame becoming palpable. "Great," he mumbled. "I'll... I'll be better next time, I promise." But as he spoke, a sudden fit of coughing overcame him. Instinctively, he covered his mouth with his hand, hoping to stifle the sound.

When he removed his hand, his eyes widened in horror as he saw it smeared with splatters of crimson.

Blood. It stained his palm.