Astaroth's relaxed expression froze.
"Wait," Astaroth said slowly. "What did you just say...? How could that be possible...?"
Arthur watched his reaction, almost amused.
"I know, I know," Arthur said. "A Demon Lord can't be born like a normal child."
He looked out at the endless blue sea, the waves rolling in quietly.
"They're created by the Demon God," Arthur went on. "And you already told me a Demon Lord doesn't truly die unless their soul is completely obliterated. So you already have your answer for how it happened."
Astaroth fell silent.
His eyes unfocused as he searched through knowledge buried beneath centuries of memories. The method was simple and ancient—primitive, even—but it came with heavy limitations. Most Demon Lords considered it beneath them.
Then he spoke.
"Soul exchange..." Astaroth murmured. "It must've been a contract."
Arthur snapped his fingers.
"Bingo," Arthur said. "Aiden's parents loved their children dearly."
