Novel

The ceremony conferring the position of the Staff of Incarceration was concluded in an unexpectedly brief manner.

The high-ranking demons had gathered after a long time. Their reunion could have begun with a round of cordial greetings, exchanging pleasantries and recent news, all while delighting in delectable fare and exquisite brew, erupting into fits of laughter and perhaps even a dance or two. Yet, from the moment half the demons were ordered to be killed, such a future ceased to exist.

Upon the conclusion of the short investiture, Gavid stepped forward and prompted the demons to take their leave of the palace. Obligingly, they left, for they had a great many things to contemplate and prepare for.

Among their spoils of survival from the abrupt massacre was the power granted to them by the Demon King of Incarceration.

There was no elaborate ritual required to receive this power. The moment they retreated from the palace, the demons sensed an unparalleled force residing within them.

Though the strength of this power, how to master it, and how to adapt to the forthcoming changes were questions, they had to contemplate on their own…. The Demon King’s power absolutely could not be used in the contests of hierarchy among the demons.

What did this mean? If they could not wield this power against each other, so to whom were they supposed to direct it? The demons departed from Babel, deep in their contemplations.

"Aren't you disappointed?" Noir Giabella didn't have to worry about these dilemmas. She, too, had received the Demon King's gift, yet she didn't feel any special allure or desire for it.

Power? She had possessed it for quite a while and didn't lack any of it. Even though the lower-ranking demons had received the King's power, Noir was confident she could annihilate them all if she so desired.

It was an exceedingly arrogant conviction, yes, but Noir was confident of her strength. Her power, the Demoneye of Fantasy, was potent because she never imagined herself losing. Aside from her own enormous reservoir of Dark Power, this conviction guaranteed her victory.

"I'd be disappointed if it were me," Noir continued voicing her thoughts.

She didn't need to ponder or prepare for anything. No, on second thought, she had much to prepare for. Fortunately, the Demon King of Incarceration had approved of Noir's business proposal: The Mediator System, and subsequently asked her to formulate a plan. But there was no need to rush. No demon would dare to steal Noir's idea, and the plan could be written by the educated demons under her command.

"Isn't that so? You should've been the star today. But your investiture ended in just five minutes," Noir continued while leaning against a wall. She turned slightly to face forward.

"It doesn't matter,” Amelia responded with a smirk. "I didn't come all this way from the desert to enjoy a party. Aren't you just disappointed because you couldn't have fun?"

"Correct, I am very disappointed. It's been a hundred years since the palace’s doors were opened, and it's been quite some time since the high-ranking demons gathered like this. It’s also been a while since I saw you last," Noir chuckled while giving Amelia a once-over.

"Amelia, you've never attended an event in Helmuth while being holed up in the desert, right? I was looking forward to drinking with you after so long,” Noir commented.

"I don't want to drink with you," retorted Amelia.

"Don't be so cold. Why can't we just sit and have a drink? Are you scared that I would drag you to the bed against your will?" said Noir.

It could have sounded like a jest, but the one who said these words was none other than the Queen of the Night Demons, Noir. Instead of replying, Amelia simply fixed her gaze on Noir's eyes. Her eyes were glorious orbs of amethyst. They were magical eyes of illusion endowed with an authority that no spell could imitate.

"Ah, don't fret. What you see before you is not an illusion but reality,” said Noir with a chuckle. She winked at Amelia. "Of course, if you wish, I can use these eyes to show and make you experience all your desires…. So? Interested?"

"I have no intention of selling you my body," Amelia retorted.

"Oh my…. Let's not use such words. I'm not trying to take your body or anything. I’m just intrigued," said Noir with a laugh.

Noir's gaze shifted slightly. The figure of the Death Knight was reflected in her gem-like, shimmering eyes.

"If you don't want to play with me, how about him?" Noir asked with a slight smile.

"Are you coveting what's mine?" retorted Amelia.

"Yours... ahahaha, the him I know wouldn't particularly appreciate such words," Noir stated, still chuckling.

With a creak, the armor moved. Amelia had been suppressing the Death Knight's actions from the moment she faced Noir. She feared the Death Knight losing his temper and attacking Noir, and Noir deciphering the true identity of the Death Knight.

"Let him move freely. It might not be so bad, right? Amelia, compared to your relationship with him... mine is far longer, isn't it?" said Noir.

"Duke Giabella, as you very well know, he despises you greatly. If I loosen his leash—"

"His hatred for me is the most charming thing about him. Don't worry. I just want to greet an old friend," Noir interrupted, not letting Amelia refuse.

The metallic creaking grew louder with each word Noir spoke. Amelia hesitated momentarily before slowly nodding and retracting the magical leash that bound the Death Knight.

"It's been a while," Noir greeted with a broad smile. “My Ha—”

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The Death Knight charged and slammed Noir against the wall.

"It’s been a while, friend?! You?!" the Death Knight roared, his armored fists swinging wildly. Each punch made contact with Noir, causing her body to crack and explode with splattering blood. In no time, the Death Knight had devastated Noir's flesh, and he gripped the throat of what remained.

"Oh, I'm fine," Noir said as Amelia tried to intervene with furrowed brows. Noir just laughed, not having screamed or moaned even once. She did not bother regenerating her body and continued to speak even as the Death Knight crushed her throat under his grip.

"Hamel. I'm overjoyed that you despise me as much as ever. Although it's quite disappointing to have my greeting ignored, aren't you happy to see me?" she asked.

"You damn—"

"I'm quite curious as to why you, who died three hundred years ago, were resurrected in such a form. But I won't ask. I think my question will only bring you humiliation and discomfort. I don't want your hate to—"

Thwack!

The Death Knight’s fist struck Noir's visage. Humiliation? Disgust? The gaze of the Death Knight quivered intensely. He had risen anew as the Death Knight, driven only by hatred and a desire for revenge.

He wanted to obliterate Vermouth’s descendant and the Lionheart clan, as well as everything connected to Sienna, Anise, and Molon.

It was his only desire. Yet he had been defeated by the young whelp of the Lionheart family, the one who was called the second coming of Vermouth.

The defeat had been total and overwhelming, leaving no room for consolation, even for the Death Knight's reckoning. His body had been annihilated, leaving only his soul. In a desperate bid to sustain his existence, he had bound his spirit to a suit of armor.

He had come to Helmuth with Amelia Merwin in such a pitiful state. He had reached the palace of Babel, where he had never set foot while alive but as an undead and the slave of a black wizard. He had endured the mocking gazes of his enemies he had failed to kill three hundred years ago. He had been utterly disregarded by the Demon King of Incarceration.

The Queen of Night Demons, Noir Giabella, was a demon Hamel had most desired to kill alongside the Demon Kings three hundred years ago. This demon was uttering remarks no different from bare mockery, imbued with repulsive empathy. She even dared to adorn a friendly smile. How could he bear such humiliation?

"It's refreshing to see you haven't changed," Noir's voice echoed beside him. Even though her body and head had been shattered, she stood unscathed beside the Death Knight. Whether her destruction had been an illusion or she had regenerated her body anew, he neither knew nor cared to know. It only filled him with loathing and despair.

‘His persona appears intact... an exquisite fake.'

Noir had no intention of revealing the truth to the Death Knight. If his persona was truly identical to Hamel's, he wouldn't yield under the weight of humiliation, hatred, and despair. The Hamel whom Noir Giabella had loved would never make such a choice. He was a man who would rather gamble his life in battle than yield or flee.

If his body couldn't die and if his hatred preceded his death, he would swallow his immediate shame and despair and crawl back up.

'When that time comes, oh, truly,' Noir mused with a laugh imagining such a future.

Of course, even if that Death Knight reached her, Noir had no intention of surrendering her life to him. No matter how closely he resembled the original, that Death Knight was not the real deal. If anyone in this world could show Noir what death was, it had to be the real Hamel.

"Aaargh!" The Death Knight rushed at Noir with a roar. But this time, Noir did not allow him to harass her. Her eyes flashed, and the Death Knight was immediately immobilized.

"You said you didn't want to drink with me, right?" Noir glanced back at Amelia, her laughter ringing out. "So, will you return to the desert just like this? You've traveled far from the distant Nahama to get here. Wouldn't it be a waste not to enjoy it more? Think again; how about it? I could throw a party just for you…."

"Don't dawdle. I have other matters to attend to,” responded Amelia.

"Matters? What matters?" asked Noir.

"Given I've returned to Helmuth after a long time and there are some events to celebrate... I thought I'd pay a visit to my hometown."

Hometown.

A look of surprise crossed Noir's face. She was well aware of where Amelia's hometown was.

It was a place near the frontier of Helmuth, the domain of the Demon King of Destruction, Ravesta.

Though a territory of Helmuth, it was a land untouched by the gaze and rule of the Demon King of Incarceration. Moreover, demons living in this land strictly shunned outsiders. In that aspect, it bore a resemblance to Dragon Demon Castle, but the isolation of Dragon Demon Castle and Ravesta varied in intensity.

The demons of Ravesta didn't belong to the hierarchy of Helmuth's demons. What the Ravesta demons worshipped was the Demon King of Destruction, who had fallen into slumber three hundred years ago, and they bore no loyalty to the Demon King of Incarceration.

Only two residents of Ravesta had gained renown outside of this secluded, primitive land — Jagon, who had been known as the Beast of Ravesta, and Amelia Merwin, who became one of the Three Mages of Incarceration.

"I didn't know you loved your hometown so much,” said Noir.

"I don't love it,” Amelia responded with a wry smile. "But... it's better than being in the desert for now."

"Are you running away?" Noir asked.

Amelia's eyebrows wiggled. Was that a hit? Noir laughed while folding her arms.

"Well, you have no choice but to run. You're linked to Eugene Lionheart with bad karma... and the Disastrous Sienna has returned too, hasn't she? If she finds out what you did, that calamity of a wizard would flip your desert upside down,” continued Noir.

"I'm not afraid of her. Nor Eugene Lionheart,” Amelia stated.

"Really? So?"

"I just want to avoid unnecessary fights. At least for now."

Amelia didn't want to continue the conversation. She turned while pulling the frozen Death Knight towards her with her magic.

Run away?

She thought it was a phrase not worth consideration — yet, it kept echoing in her head. She had experienced a particular emotion when she saw the power of Eugene Lionheart in the Death Knight’s memories, along with the divine magic of the Saint, while not forgetting Sienna, who had destroyed the Signature of the Green Tower Master in Aroth and threatened to sink Abram under water.

Amelia did not want to fully acknowledge what she felt when she learned of these things.

Bam!

"Gah!"

So she jabbed her staff backward into Hemoria’s abdomen. Hemoria bent over, caught off guard, clutching her stomach and gasping for air.

Clang!

Amelia headed for the elevator of Babel while dragging Hemoria by her collar. The Death Knight, too, creaked along, following behind Amelia.

"Oh dear, poor thing."

Noir smirked as she watched Amelia and her pets depart.

***

As anticipated, Sienna roamed every corner of the room, even snatching away Akasha, and forced the virtually kidnapped Straut the Second to use the room's power.

Yet, the chamber beneath the spire yielded no gains. Eventually, Eugene and Sienna returned to the Lionheart mansion after partaking in a shared meal to save the Emperor’s face.

"How did it go?" queried Kristina, sporting a grin as they approached the gargantuan carcass of Raizakia near the forest edge. She was dressed in a jacket that Eugene had personally selected for her. The sight of it elicited a surge of irritation within Sienna.

"Why are you dressed like that when we're not going out?" asked Sienna.

"I am not cloistered within a room. It’s only natural I would wear appropriate attire when venturing outside,” retorted Kristina.

"But you're the Saint. Shouldn't you be in a white robe? The current generation’s gotten comfortable, hmm? Deeming it permissible for clergy to behave inappropriately like this…. Even Anise always wore her holy attire until she joined us in Helmuth,” grumbled Sienna.

"Lady Anise, the Saint of three centuries past, allowed it, and the God of Light wouldn't rebuke me merely for not wearing a robe,” responded Kristina.

Even Eugene found that claim ludicrous.

Before their relationship reached its current state, when he and Kristina journeyed to the Samar Forest, she had adamantly chosen to don her clerical attire and white robe.

—You can wear other clothes.

—What should clergy wear, if not their holy attire? In particular, Sir Eugene, accompanying you is an act of divine will. I cannot forsake my holy vestments.

Yet, despite her previous assertions, Kristina now calmly uttered lies without a hint of discomfort.

"Y-you, stop arguing back incessantly. When an adult is speaking…."

The words slipped out before Sienna could catch them. Caught by surprise, she clamped her mouth shut. Yet, Kristina didn't miss the opportunity to catch Sienna off guard.

"Oh, yes, that's right. I'm truly sorry, Lady Sienna. Considering that you're a whopping three hundred years older than me, it's absolutely improper for a mere twenty-three-year-old like me to retort to you,” said Kristina.

"That's… not…. No, it's okay," Sienna mumbled.

"No, it's not okay. If you are a towering old tree, then I am a budding sprout. How could such a fledgling as myself show disrespect to you, Lady Sienna?" continued Kristina.

"No, it's really okay. Feel free to talk back,” said Sienna.

"Very well, then. I understand, Lady Sienna. Since I have received permission, I shall continue to retort without reservation," said Kristina.

Sienna's pupils trembled greatly. There seemed to be no way out of this….

"So... you quite like the clothes?"

However, she was unwilling to admit defeat. Sienna composed her expression before lightly lifting the edge of her cloak, “Do you see? The clothes you and Anise got. Eugene didn’t choose them on his own. I helped him out as well. Well, it didn’t take much time at all to choose.”

"But Sir Eugene still personally picked them out for us,” retorted Kristina.

"Well, yes. But my cloak, on the other hand, required a whole day of consideration—"

"Aha-ha-ha!" Kristina burst into laughter. Eugene anticipated the follow-up remarks and quietly stepped back.

"One day? No, that cloak is the one Sir Eugene purchased that very day."

"Huh?"

"And, Lady Sienna, Sir Eugene prepared the cloak... as a gift for you because… Lady Anise advised him to prepare a gift for you," Kristina said while holding back her laughter.

Sienna's eyes widened.

"If it weren't for Lady Anise's advice, Sir Eugene would have come to meet you empty-handed. That's all. Furthermore, all of Eugene's attire that day... was chosen based on my and Lady Anise's advice."

"Uh... uh…," Sienna was left fumbling for words.

"And one more thing, Lady Sienna. The gift you received was just a cloak…. I, on the other hand... hehe." Kristina beamed with a mischievous smile as she raised her necklace slightly, "A necklace that Sir Eugene personally thought of and chose, and he put it around my neck not once but twice."

Sienna's eyes twitched.

"I received a jacket, and Lady Anise received a coat."

Snap!

Sienna's incisors clenched tightly.

"Oh my…. I received three gifts."

"Where did that brat go?!" Sienna shouted angrily, turning her head to search for Eugene.

Ignoring the distant shouts, Eugene hastened his steps as he tried to flee the disaster.

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