Devoid

Revealed trace

Nothing. Throwing the books away in a fit of disgust, he stomped over to the livid, yet fearful Counselor. "I do not have all day to deal with your stupidity," he hissed in his face, unwrapping the gag from his mouth. "Tell me what I want to know." Abraxas spit in his face. "Respect your elders, boy," he snarled. "I've told you multiple times, I have nothing to do with this. Besides, haven't you been taught in the art of interrogation by that old geezer, Chandler? Don't you know there's something to add after you demand infor–" he choked on his next words. Meliodas looked on, unfazed and stone-faced as his darkness stabbed through the Counselor's chest, burning all the while.

"As a matter of fact, Chandler did instruct me in the art of torture and interrogation. But, I have no need for an ultimatum. After all, you're going to die one way or another—the only question is if you'll answer my questions and die at my hands, or refuse and be taken before the King? It'll take you a loooong time to die if he's the one torturing you, as I'm sure you know." He smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his face. "Also, should you honestly be calling Chandler an 'old geezer'? Didn't you just tell me to 'respect my elders'? Perhaps you should follow your own advice, Counselor," he snarked viciously.

Finally, he stopped trying to hide his fear. "I've told you, I have nothing to do with this insane plot!" He exclaimed frantically, pulling at the chains, pain etched in his face from the jostling of his wounded body. "I have never considered going against His Majesty and I never will! It's a death sentence and everyone knows it!" Meliodas glared at him and Abraxas began screaming as the darkness invading his body wrapped around his kidney, burning it while inside his body. "I wonder if your regenerative powers will be able to save that organ?" He asked. "Perhaps, if the flame doesn't burn too much of the tissue. But I suggest you hurry–you don't have much time before the damage become irreparable."

He stopped burning the Demon's kidney. 
***
Through ragged breathing, the Counselor spoke. "I've had no part–" Meliodas snarled, cutting him off. He seized Abraxas's head in a crushing grip and dark energy began to spiral around them both. Absolute terror filled the Counselor's eyes as he realized what the enraged prince was doing. "NO!" He shrieked, but it was too late. Meliodas ripped open his mind like it was made of paper. A flood of the elder Demon's thoughts, memories, and emotions surged into the younger demon's. Had he been anyone else, Meliodas's mind would have been overwhelmed. But he was Meliodas, First Demon Prince, Heir to the Demon Throne–he wouldn't be overtaken that easily.

Allowing the information to flow freely, he didn't try to make the images and thoughts stand still, knowing it would be impossible, even for him. Standing against the mental flood, he quickly took in all the information he needed, ignoring the meaningless things he also saw. His method got him what he needed. Images of Abraxas sneaking cloaked figures into his mansion under the cover of night, him shaking hands with a man in a cloak with a hood over his face and handing a letter to him, it was all there. Undeniable proof Abraxas had betrayed the King. Finally, the last image was that of the desk in the room–and a hidden compartment on the underside of the desk.

Letting go of the ex-Counselor's head, which flopped down to his chest, Meliodas took a deep breath, feeling a headache coming on. "Great," he growled. "I've given myself a headache digging through your garbage heap of a mind. You just have to be an annoyance to the very end, don't you?" He didn't answer, unsurprisingly. "I was trying to avoid ripping your mind apart, since the King would be quite cross if I rendered you unable to answer questions later, but I lost my patience. He can get over it," Meliodas shrugged, turning and walking towards the desk again. "Now, let's see what you have in this secret compartment."

Opening it was simple, requiring an Absolute Cancel on another lock spell. The drawer popped down from the bottom of the desk and right there on top, conveniently sat the letter he was looking for. Picking it up and scanning through it, everything clicked. Folding the letter back up, he walked towards the still limp traitor. "So," Meliodas started, waving the letter around, "you were blackmailed into it by your grandson. You've been lying about your city's income and cutting down your payment to the King? I always wondered how you managed to get this city up and running like you did. Before you took over as Cadiz's Counselor, it was a city barely surviving, struggling to make even the smallest payments to the Throne."

"So, you came up with the solution to establish traders here, some of the people who owed you in the past that worked for nothing. And then, in the early years, you lied about how much money you were bringing in, using the extra to discretely build the city up from basically the ground. But, after so long of telling the King you only had a certain amount of money to give him, you couldn't stop. If you suddenly upped the payment by almost half, to the amount it should've been, he'd unavoidably become suspicious. And if he found out you'd been lying to him for years, he'd surely kill you."

Slipping the letter into his pocket, Meliodas shook his head. "I wish I could say I admired you for doing such a risky thing for your city...but we both know you didn't do it for them. You did it so you could have glory, power, wealth." He sighed. "Now, if you could tell me who S is in this letter..." A groan was his only response. Meliodas leaned away from him. "Yeah. I figured that would happen. Amazing, how having your mind ripped open so violently can reduce even a man who's been able to hide something from the Demon King for centuries now, to little more than a groaning fool."

Squatting down, he forced Abraxas's head up. The Demon's indigo eyes were clouded and unfocused. Meliodas smirked. "Can't say I don't enjoy this. After all your self righteous speeches about your own inflated sense of pride and purpose and all the times you've dared to speak back to me...no, I definitely can't say seeing you reduced to this isn't pleasing. A traitor, shamed and useless. A fitting end for you." Letting the head go, he stood up and began to walk away. He was going to leave him there as a message to the other traitors, a warning...before he opened his mouth.

1

"A fitting end...a fitting end..." he muttered. Meliodas turned back. "A fitting end for a traitor such as yourself–death by the hand of the prince you betrayed." Meliodas's breath hitched. He knew those words. Those words exactly. "A fitting death for you, Guir–" And his hearts stopped. The ringing in his ears stopped him from hearing the rest of the name, but he knew that too. He didn't need to hear it.

"What's the matter, Melio? Fight with your father again?"

"Don't call him my father!"

Laughter. "Okay, okay. Fine. But still, what happened? I'm worried about you."

A confession that made no sense. "I am the one who betrayed you."

Pleas. Not for his life, but for forgiveness. "Melio...Melio, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I never meant for you to get hurt. I don't ask to be spared...just let me know I'm forgiven before I die."

"Why...?" Confusion, hurt coursed through him.

Agonized screams, turning harsher and deeper and more beastly. Terror, flooding through his system, paralyzing him.

One last scream, one last shard of someone who, once, meant everything to him. "MELIODAS!"

Blood. Everywhere. There wasn't a single place it didn't cover. He was soaked in it, in his blood. He did it...he did it. He killed him. Why?

Why?

WHY?!

He exploded–and so did Abraxas. The remaining bits of his darkness, reacting to his rage, caused the Demon's body to blow apart, from the inside. Blood covered the entire room. And Meliodas was painted red. His hair, his clothes, his skin...it was everywhere. It was almost like...it never went away.