-oOo-

  Chapter 25

  -oOo-

  Sylvia spooned up a sip of fasolada. The rich flavors of the bean soup filled her mouth. She’d already stopped by Belkis’s apartment to dump off a hundred thousand soli of books and manuals. Since the elemental witch wasn’t in, she’d summoned Elroy’s soul before dumping him into the private pool.

  It’d be several days before the werewolf was alive enough to talk.

  Sylvia’s shopping spree was far from done, but the silver-haired witch thought that today’s progress demanded a reward. And what better reward was there than a delicious meal at a restaurant?

  Relaxed, Sylvia enjoyed her food, washing it down with a cold drink.

  Only for the moment to be ruined when a fox eared man slid into the booth opposite her.

  Clink. Sylvia’s spoon dropped into her bowl. Angry pink eyes gazed at the man across.

  “This table is taken,” she said, enunciating each word clearly.

  The fox demon raised a hand. “Wait. I just want to talk.”

  “And why the fudge would I want to talk to you?”

  The man was a kitsune, a demon of the Kategaris lineage. The genera Alepou covered several kinds of fox demons ieros, oura, and fotia. If Sylvia wasn’t mistaken, this man was the latter, a fire fox. Fotia were furries at birth. This demon, however, looked very human.

  Which meant he was Awakened.

  As though Sylvia couldn’t tell from the C-IV/Mid tag hanging over his head.

  The kitsune grimaced. “Because I’m a friend. Belkis’s friend. We’re from the same adventuring party.”

  “Ah. The sugary fox.” Sylvia leaned back. “Rauno isn’t it?”

  Rauno’s lips quirked. “Sugary?”

  Fucking anti-cuss tool.

  The kitsune had orange hair cut at the height of a human’s ears. Rauno’s, however, weren’t on the side of his head. Instead, the demon’s ears were situated up top, a pair of fuzzy triangles. The man’s eyes were blue with slit pupils while his face had a feminine shape. A petty boy. The kind that some girls went ga-ga over.

  Sylvia supposed that Rauno qualified as roguishly handsome, though personally she found the smooth skin near his temples disconcerting.

  Fox demons were far more uncanny than portrayed in anime.

  “If you want me to put in a few good words with Belkis, you can forget about it,” Sylvia said, before taking another bite of her soup.

  Food was wonderful.

  “I just want you to listen,” Rauno pressed.

  Sylvia looked at him. Silently, she dipped her spoon, drawing out another morsel of beans.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” the fox decided. “Before I explain, can you confirm that you are in fact an apprentice of Baroness Esmeralda Vallenfelt.”

  The fox’s ear twitched. Sylvia’s caught the glint of psychic energy. Was this bastard using something similar to Ph??ng’s Resonance?

  “Belkis is my sister apprentice,” Sylvia answered plainly. Then she wobbled the psychic ether in her head. It was a simple trick, but it could defeat most mind reading arts.

  Rauno grimaced. The mana in his ears vanished. Sylvia hoped she’d made clear how rude he was being.

  “Has Belkis told you anything about what happened?” Rauno probed.

  “No,” Sylvia answered. She leaned back, eyeing the man carefully. “She’s told me next to nothing.”

  “Then I’ll start from the beginning,” Rauno sighed. “Four months back, our team did a dive on the third layer. A new set of caverns had opened up, so we set out in a hurry.”

  Sylvia waggled her spoon. “Sounds pretty typical.”

  Short of a gate, the only way to travel between the layers of Tartarus was through a system of caverns. The major pathways had been stabilized to facilitate traffic. Mortals could travel through them safely.

  However, for every major path the government maintained, Tartarus had dozens of minor paths. Caves filled with wealth, danger, and phantasms. Natural dungeons, in gamer speak. The plane was always destroying old ones and growing new ones. This made Tartarus a paradise for hunters and adventurers alike.

  Belkis was an adventurer. The distinction was adventurers delved caves for fun while hunters delved caves for profit. To say it not so nicely, adventurers were tourists on safari – with more death and murder.

  Ya know, ordinary demon shit.

  “It was,” Rauno agreed. “Or, at least, it should’ve been. We got wiped out. All five of us.”

  Now, Sylvia raised a brow. Belkis and Rauno were Class IV demons. The apex predator of the Timeless Beryl Wilderness, the golden arktos, was a mere Class III phantasm. It wasn’t impossible to run into something stronger. Phantasmal beasts had no real upper limit to their strength. Their power was purely governed by their species.

  Then there were nether beasts, phantasms that had formed a pseudo soul. Such creatures could grow and cultivate, just like demons. They could even evolve, transforming into immortal beasts.

  “How did that happen?”

  “A nether beast and a horde of phantasms,” Rauno answered. “One minute, everything was under control. The next, only Belkis and I were among the living. When we realized our companions had fallen, we tried to run. The phantasms ripped us apart.”

  Rauno shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. What’s important is what happened after. The four of us revived like expected. Belkis didn’t.”

  Sylvia frowned. “That’s not normal.”

  “Not as uncommon as you’d think,” Rauno rejected. “From time to time, a phantasm will snap up your soul before it can slide into Unus Mundus. That’s why we all wear slip rings. The kind with beacons, in case the worst happens.”

  Rauno waved his sharp nailed hand, showing the silver band around one finger.

  A slip ring was a magical item made to ‘slip’ the methods used to capture souls. The good ones could even slip soul lamps, which made them legally questionable. A devil wouldn’t have any trouble buying one, regardless. On that note, this was another item Sylvia needed to purchase before her planar adventure.

  But how was she going to fit it into her soul?

  Obviously, she was going to have to buy a realm ring array too.

  Sylvia felt sorry for Lady Vallenfelt’s bank account.

  “When we realized she was missing, we ran back down to the third layer. We spent two weeks looking for her beacon. After a while, we guessed she got caught briefly only to slip after. So we came back up. Sure enough, she was already there.”

  “So she could’ve been gone for weeks?” Sylvia probed.

  “Or a few days,” Rauno answered. “I tried talking to the witches in her circle, but they told me to ask Belkis.”

  “And did you?” Sylvia questioned.

  Rauno scowled. “She insists her ring malfunctioned.”

  And clearly, the fox believed that was bullshit. “You think she’s lying.”

  “Belkis always checks her gear before a dive. She’s a witch. No way she missed anything,” Rauno insisted.

  “Being a witch doesn’t make you an expert in everything magical,” Sylvia refuted.

  Enchantment was its own skill. One with many specialties. Belkis was a battle mage, not a craftswoman. Also, it was normal to fuck up.

  Rauno scowled. “This is different.”

  “Why are you so sure she lied?”

  The fox glanced to either side before flicking his tail. The fluffy length of red and orange glowed with a ghostly fire. Complex magic swirled, sweeping their surroundings into a world of illusion. Fox fire was the natural magic of the fotia, a complex aspect born from the elements psychic, fire, and void.

  Though vaguely similar, it was not to be mistaken for a succubus’ aspect of passion.

  “I think she was hit with dream magic,” Rauno hissed.

  Sylvia set down her spoon then pushed her half-eaten bowl to the side. “That’s a pretty flummery serious accusation.”

  The dream element was an advanced element catalyzed from soul and psychic. It was the only element which could permanently twist one’s personality, driving them into eternal madness or transforming them into a willing slave.

  As with all things related to the soul, it came with great karmic weight. Those who abused dream magic would soon find themselves on the Heavenly Will’s shit list. At that point, their only choice was to flee to the far planes lest their own soul meet the same ruin.

  “When we came back, she was spending time with Viscount Nychta,” the fox growled.

  “Nychta as in the Nytcha ward?”

  Rauno nodded.

  That explained the secrecy.

  Iacchus was part of Archduke Damballa’s domain. The city was administered by multiple nobles who served the duke, most vassals of Marquis Padure. The Nychta ward had a population of a quarter million and was controlled by Lord Nychta. While it wasn’t, precisely, his fief, it did represent a huge amount of wealth and power.

  Nychta was also the ward in which Belkis lived.

  “And this is a problem, why?”

  “The viscount is a sick bastard,” Rauno spat. “He collects women like toys. Keeps them around until he gets bored, then he throws them away.”

  Oh. Sylvia grasped what this was about.

  “You like her,” Sylvia said bluntly.

  “That has nothing to do with this,” Rauno retorted without refute.

  Sure it doesn’t, bro. Sure it doesn’t.

  The fox glared. His blue eyes were filled with anger. “You don’t get it. Viscount Nychta had been chasing Belkis for months. She hated him. Called him slime.”

  “Let’s say everything you said is true,” Sylvia accepted. “Why would the viscount burn karma for a girl? Even if he had the karma to spare, where would he find a mage who could cast the spells?”

  Karma was governed by the Heavenly Will. All mortal souls were subject the Will’s judgment. By doing evil, especially to the soul, a demon would lose karma. By doing good, they would collect the same. As a viscount ruling over a vast territory, Lord Nychta would often gain or lose karma in great volumes.

  This was because his deeds affected many people.

  Furthermore, as a demon who could not receive Grace, good karma was nothing more than coins stored in a piggy bank. Its only function was to permit future evil.

  So, Lord Nychta was well-equipped to get away with ruining a soul. The only question was whether he was willing to pay the price.

  But what about the mage who’d be casting the spells?

  Dream magic was complex. It was easy to drive a man mad, but to change their personality according to a specific subset of desires required tremendous skill and practice. What mage could afford the karmic cost to learn dream magic to this degree? And if they could, why would they waste karma in the service of Lord Nytcha. Then, there were the servants of the lord to consider. These individuals also played a role in this sick game Rauno was imagining.

  The Heavenly Will wasn’t a dumb machine. It punished actors and enablers alike. Nor was it so merciful in its judgment as to divide the sin equally across all members.

  So, while what Rauno suggested was possible, it was far more difficult than it seemed.

  “How would I know?” the kitsune said, throwing up his arms. “I’m not a witch.”

  Sylvia tapped a finger against the table. Extraordinary claims required extraordinary evidence. But serious accusations must never be dismissed.

  Rauno presented little evidence, yet Sylvia had little choice but to investigate. Because, if the problem was real and she didn’t, the consequence would be equally extraordinary.

  To target a soul required time and opportunity. Belkis’s disappearance provided both. But when had she been intercepted? The private pool at the elemental witch’s apartment showed no sign of violence, and yet it had a gargoyle guardian.

  A viscount was definitely a third consolidation demon. Most likely, he was of the fourth. There was even a chance Lord Nychta was a Transcendent, though usually nobles of that level would advance to the rank of count. Could Lord Nychta break in, leaving behind no signs? Unlikely. Maybe he fixed the damaged walls and floors, but the gargoyle itself was a hindrance. The phantasm wasn’t smart, but it did have a degree of intelligence.

  And it couldn’t be replaced either. The gargoyle was Lady Vallenfelt’s custom work. Furthermore, few psychic spells would work on it since its mind was too different from a demon’s.

  The apartment couldn’t be the point of attack. Which left….

  “Were you followed?” Sylvia asked, looking up.

  “Not that I’m aware of,” Rauno answered. “Phoebe helped us find a cave nobody had touched, so it’s not impossible.”

  In other words, they could’ve been followed if Sylvia added the circle to the list of suspects. Would the circle betray a witch? Why not? Witches were just as human as everyone else.

  However, Belkis showed no sign of distrust.

  A third party? If Phoebe could find the cave, presumably another mage could do the same. Divination magic wasn’t unique to oracles. They were just better at it.

  After a long moment, Sylvia shook her head. The possibilities were endless. Sylvia wasn’t a detective.

  “I’ll talk to her and see if I can learn more,” she decided.

  Rauno pounded a fist on the table. The silverware danced. “That’s not good enough.”

  “What more do you want me to do?”

  “Call your master. Check her for magic,” Rauno answered. “Do your witch things.”

  Sylvia’s expression was sour. For a bloodline with natural magic, Rauno sure knew fuck all about how magic actually worked.

  “Viscount Nychta might’ve twisted her soul isn’t much to go on,” Sylvia pointed out. “And I’ve known Belkis for all of one day. She’s not going to open up to me.”

  For all Sylvia knew, Belkis was telling the truth. Her soul got eaten and her slip ring malfunctioned. Trauma could change a person. Soul capture was the closest thing most demons came to a near-death experience.

  As for her beef with Rauno? Maybe Belkis blamed him for her death. Maybe the fox got handsy. Maybe Belkis found a new paramour and was pissed Rauno was throwing jealous fits.

  Rauno’s triangular ears drooped.

  “Please. I know that fucking viscount did something to her. Please, for her sake, find out what happened.”

  “I will do what I can,” Sylvia promised. “I’ll even call my master, if the situation warrants it. But if Belkis ran you off for good reason, I expect you to leave her alone.”

  “That’s all I’m asking,” Rauno said, standing up.

  The fox left, holding half the energy with which he entered. The veil of fox fire fell with him.

  Sylvia picked up her spoon. Maybe a quarter of the soup was left. The rest had dissolved into ether. What a waste. The silver-haired witch stared into the bowl then let the utensil clatter back down.

  Her pastel pink eyes veered to where a golden-furred monkey was waiting.

  “You may as well take a seat,” she said grumpily.

  The vanara Zahir approached. The sailor from the Aripa bowed beside her table. Sylvia’s gaze couldn’t help but be drawn to the iron shackle clamped around his neck.

  Tartarus had far fewer slaves than the Timeless Beryl Wilderness, yet their numbers still weren’t lacking.

  “Milady, I wish to report your weapons have arrived at the Aripa.”

  “You came all the way here, to a restaurant, to tell me that?” Sylvia nearly rolled her eyes. “Next time, tell a more believable lie.”

  The vanara stilled. “I don’t know what you mean, milady.”

  “Weren’t you afraid Rauno would rip you in half?” Sylvia shook her head then chanted. “■■■■ ■■, ■■■ ■■■■, ■■■■■.”

  Silent boundary, anonymous presence, then tangled weave. This was the triplet of privacy spells her teacher, Esmeralda favored. The first to prevent leaks. The second to erase secrets. The last to scramble the threads of causality. When Sylvia cast the spells she could feel the gap. Lady Vallenfelt managed them with four syllables. Emily had completed the spells with a mere seven sounds.

  She still had a lot to learn before she could call herself a master.

  When the spells snapped into place, Sylvia repeated her order.

  “Take a seat, Gavin.”

  A slow, broad grin spread across the monkey demon’s face. Without an ounce of shame, the ‘vanara’ jumped into the booth opposite.

  “What gave me away?”

  The text floating over his head.

  Not that Sylvia was going to tell him that.

  Since the mess of the tournament, Sylvia had made a habit of checking people’s identity. The Aripa was a medium-sized vessel. Sylvia had seen through Gavin’s trick long before she set foot on Tartarus.

  “The Kategaris lineage has many famous shapeshifters, but I wasn’t aware redcaps were among them.”

  “Heh, it just takes some practice and a little art.”

  Gavin was underselling his talent. A redcap’s flesh manipulation was not at all suitable for complex transformation.

  “Let me guess, you want me to take care of that.”

  Sylvia gestured to the iron shackle clamped around Gavin’s neck.

  A slave collar did not bind with steel or chains. It caged its wearer with the bonds of status. It was a symbol which ensured no one would hire Gavin. Any transaction the goblin attempted would demand the question: who is your master. Most importantly, no property could be purchased nor any account opened in his name.

  The iron wrapping his neck condemned Gavin to walk the underworld, always fearing the loss of his new-found freedom. Removing it wouldn’t erase Gavin’s status of slave. It would, however, make the goblin’s life a lot easier.

  “You understand me well, Lady Swallows,” Gavin confirmed.

  “And you know me well enough not to call me lady,” Sylvia retorted.

  “I am but a lowly slave,” Gavin said lowering his head. “What else would I call you?”

  “Sylvia. Just call me Sylvia,” Sylvia said, exasperated. She paused and considered. “Since you were listening, what do you think?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Gavin couldn’t have caught the tail end of her conversation, but Rauno had made no attempt at privacy for the first half. Gavin, as Zahir, had been waiting the whole time.

  “He stinks of hate, murder, and jealousy,” Gavin revealed. The goblin’s eyes gleamed, still hidden behind his vanara costume. “If you ask me, his story is full of shit.”

  “Oh?”

  “First, I’m thinking he’s second consolidation, right?”

  “Awakened,” Sylvia corrected.

  “Then his adventuring team must be equally strong.”

  “Belkis is at least as strong,” Sylvia noted. “So, I’d assume his whole team is second consolidation or higher.”

  Gavin leaned forward. “Then how could they possibly be wiped out by phantasms?”

  Sylvia had considered this already. “He did say there was a horde and a nether beast.”

  “And that the others died before he knew what was happening,” monkey suit wearing goblin sneered. “Pure crock. Someone on the team fucked them over, if the lady would excuse my crude words.”

  Sylvia seriously contemplated the merits of stabbing the goblin with her fork.

  “You think there’s a traitor.”

  That would explain a lot. How did Belkis’s soul get captured? Why did the witch react so violently when Rauno was mentioned? It wasn’t impossible for a nether beast to slaughter a group of Awakened demons. But the story glued together much better if an insider was busy stabbing them in the back while they battled.

  In this case, a total party wipe was less a possibility and more an inevitability.

  Gavin grinned. He let out a vulgar laugh. “The real question you should be asking is, did Rauno do it?”

  Sylvia scoffed. “Why would he meet me if he was the one who carried it out?”

  “Maybe he wants to know what you’re planning?” Gavin leaned forward, as though sharing dirty secrets. “Or maybe he thinks your sister will look to you for help, and by making this request, you’ll share with him everything you learn.”

  Sylvia remained silent for a long moment. “You have a nasty personality.”

  Gavin tugged on the iron bound to his neck. “So will you help me with a little trouble then?”

  “You’re lucky I despise slavery,” Sylvia replied. “Meet me in a couple of days. I need to look up the right spells first. Also, do it as a goblin. I don’t need anyone asking why Zahir disappeared right after talking to me.”

  “Heh, you’re not going to string me along first?”

  “I trust you more without that shackle than with it,” Sylvia retorted. “If you want to pay me back, help me with Belkis.”

  If Gavin was the type to cut and run, she’d rather he did it now rather than risk getting screwed by him later.

  “I knew I liked you,” the vanara shaped goblin said with a broad grin.

  Gavin slinked away. Sylvia waved down the waiter. It was getting late, and it was long past time she met with her sister. After paying the bill she flew up. The sky had gone dark. The gray haze hid the night behind its shadow. The world would’ve been cast in black if not for the endless city lights reflected by the ashen clouds.

  A sky hued by the urban glow. It reminded her of home.

  Before returning to the tower, there was one last thing to do.

  Her soul stirred. Hidden within was a nineteen-page notebook. One of a pair. The other was held in Lady Vallenfelt’s soul.

  This was a magical item known as a mirror pad. What was written on any page would appear on the same page of its twin. The trick being, if Sylvia wanted to send a message she had to destroy her page first. Which meant using the pad took a degree of coordination.

  Esmeralda had resolved this by numbering the pages in both books and assigning Sylvia the odds.

  The greatest value of mirror pads was that messages could be sent or received while the notebook remained within the soul. This had the side effect of making all communications discrete. Divining the contents was all but impossible and the messages were equally hard to intercept.

  Perfect for clandestine, interplanar communication.

  They were also surprisingly cheap. Around ten thousand for a paired, one hundred-page notebook. Once upon a time, Esmeralda had bought a pack of twenty. Alas, she had sent most with Emily ten years ago in preparation for her clone’s rebirth on Earth. The gregarious imp had chewed through eight in her first three years.

  Another thing Sylvia had to buy more of.

  Since there were only nineteen pages left, certain communications had been agreed to prior. As luck had it, Sylvia didn’t need to waste a spare. She was, in fact, still dithering about what to write after reaching Tartarus.

  I bought two cannons and a mortar, to be returned via the Aripa. Total price: 1.2 million soli. I hope you don’t mind, but I skipped the earth drum to save money.

  We have a line on suitable astralship, but I’ll have to buy it from Viscount Potami. Belkis says she knows a way to make contact, but the price might be higher than expected. Luckily, I was able to pick up the manuals I required no trouble.

  If there’s money to spare, should I buy a slip ring? If I’m to wear it, I really ought to buy realm ring array first. If you approve, I’ll put in an order for both.

  Sylvia considered then started a new paragraph.

  I’ve been recently informed that something is wrong with Belkis…

  -oOo-

  “Are you sure this will work?” Sylvia asked doubtfully.

  “Why wouldn’t it work? Nobles always talk business at events like this,” Belkis replied. The dark-skinned witch shot her a grin. “Don’t worry, you’re beautiful. All you have to do is ask him for a dance then talk shop.”

  And those were the problems right there. Ask and dance. Either one of which made Sylvia queasy. The combination had her on the verge of a panic attack.

  Belkis’s grand plan was to meet Viscount Potami at Marquis Padure’s gala.

  As this was a high society event, a lady was obliged to look her best. So Sylvia was stuck in her Witch-Princess Dress. The black fabric clung to her pale frame with plenty of pink ruffles, ribbons, and lace. Her pointed hat sat proudly on her head, silver moon ornament dangling. A shrug covered her shoulders, shirt-like collar wrapping around her pretty neck, the sleeves blossoming into bells filled with pink ruffles.

  But this alone wasn’t enough. Belkis had dragged a protesting Sylvia to a stylist. Her silver hair had been done in a wavy braid woven with iridescent pearls. Her face had been touched with cosmetic magics enhancing eyes, lashes, and lips.

  The only saving grace was no gunk on her face. Sylvia could almost forget she was wearing ‘makeup’.So long as she studiously ignored her colored nails, anyway. They were pink, of course. Because it went with her damned eyes.

  Why, oh why did her eyes have to be so cute and girly?

  “He’s not going to try anything, is he?” Sylvia worried.

  Belkis tittered. “Oh sis, you don’t have to worry. You’re about this much too short to be the viscount’s type.”

  The elemental witch showed a half meter gap between her palms. Sylvia scowled. She lacked Riley’s complex, but she didn’t like being reminded how tiny she was either. Warrior class demons were freakishly tall. Some of them broke nine feet.

  Really, when you got down to it, it wasn’t that Sylvia was too small, it was they who were too large. Why, just compare her to Gavin or Kyna. Next to them, Sylvia was positively stately!

  …

  On second thought, she was starting to sound like Riley.

  The carriage came to a stop. Sylvia had wanted to ride a broom instead, but Belkis had nixed the idea. Apparently a carriage was far more proper.

  Also, her broom was too cheap. A lady shan’t be seen riding the tool of a peasant.

  The door opened.

  The driver offered an arm. He was a faun. A half-man half-goat demon often mistaken for a satyr. Belkis took the offered limb gracefully, gliding out of the carriage in her blazing, one-shoulder dress. The skirt was a roil of silk fire. Deep reds, brilliant oranges, and heated yellows wrapped the body. Underneath was a puff of searing blue.

  The dress was matched by a full sized witch’s hat, decorated with jewels. On her feet were heeled court shoes, still lower than Sylvia’s own but high enough to meet Allison’s sexy standard.

  Sylvia followed, elegantly taking the driver’s hand. She stepped down gracefully, puffs of petals beneath her feet. She could’ve walked out on her own, but a gala was all about image.

  And Lady Vallenfelt would make her suffer for an eternity if Sylvia was anything less than a princess.

  Lost Eden swarmed with monsters, literal and figurative.

  Women in extravagant dresses walked the gardens, men chatting in their sharp uniforms. Styles were as wild as the species. There were vampires in capes and mantles, while lizard men adorned themselves in bones and leather. Some guests wore robes, others displayed fancy armors of gold, silver, or obsidian.

  Moving through the crowd, Sylvia spotted a particularly bold oni wearing only a skull pauldron and a loin cloth. The red skinned devil proudly showed off his bulging muscles.

  Bastard.

  Sylvia’s gaze, though, was most quickly drawn to slender legs and broad bosoms. Ladies, like beautiful flowers, displayed alluring skin, whether they were wearing a princess dress or valkyrie armor.

  The silver-haired witch forcefully shifted her focus. If politeness wasn’t enough, the System tags floating over the women’s heads would’ve warned her off. Second consolidation appeared all but mandatory for entry. Devils from the third consolidation abounded.

  Her pastel pink eyes, instead, swept the long table. Marquis Padure stood beside his chair, chatting with another high class noble. The System marked the vampire as C-VIII/Low.

  Sylvia suddenly felt very, very small. Even her teacher, Baroness Vallenfelt, would be barely worthy of note among these esteemed guests. As a lowly apprentice, Sylvia’s station was one step above the help.

  Even the doorman was stronger than her.

  “Your invitations, please,” the cyclops asked politely.

  Sylvia gazed up. As a magissa, she’d grown used to craning her neck. Warrior bloodlines often measured between six and seven feet tall. The cyclops was nearly twice that. Size related poorly to power in the netherworld, but there was an animal intimidation to his presence.

  Belkis handed over a letter.

  The broad shouldered giant grasped the parchment between thick fingers. With a deftness that defied his size, the cyclops checked the seal before cracking it open. After confirming the contents, he stepped aside with a bow and gesture.

  The two of them entered the party proper. As they did, a herald called out their names.

  “The devil, Belkis von Vallenfelt, apprentice to Baroness Vallenfelt and her sister apprentice Miss Sylvia Swallows.”

  For once, Sylvia was not gifted the title lady.

  In this crowd, she didn’t deserve it.

  Stone paths wound through the gardens of Lost Eden, surrounded by beds of white lilies and yellow flowers, both glowing with ethereal light. Sylvia’s high heels clopped atop a wooden bridge, a crystal brook trickling beneath. The trees were thick with pale petals, granting the illusion she had stepped into fantasy. Here and there, marble obelisks rose between beds of flowers. On them were plaques listing the souls lost to the Blood Crusade. Others lauded Hell’s triumphs over Heaven.

  Lost Eden was a place of beauty, relaxation, and remembrance. Tonight it was filled with revelry. The solemn stood side-by-side with the cheer.

  Perhaps, that was the greatest honor.

  Belkis tapped Sylvia’s shoulder.

  “Viscount Potami,” she said, pointing.

  Viscount Potami administered the river district, a slip of land running along the right bank of the Archeron. The man was huge, just over eight feet tall. He had broad shoulders and a broader belly. Large, floppy ears hung on either side of his head.

  Drugi Potami was a karnabo. A bloodline with the features of an elephant and the eyes of a basilisk. Karnabo were rather ugly as demons went. Awakening had humanized the lord. Transcendence had refined him further. As a result, the viscount could be called dignified.

  But, by no means, was he attractive.

  What Lord Potami lacked in looks he made up for in sheer power. Drugi Potami was a great demon of the fifth consolidation. The System marked him C-VIII/Mid, a step stronger than Marquis Padure. The river district he ruled was long and rich, holding nearly a million persons. With all this, it was a wonder why Drugi remained a mere viscount. Some said Lord Potami was simply too lazy to vie for higher stations. Others claimed that a millennium ago, he had committed an unforgivable sin.

  What Sylvia found most interesting was that Lord Potami served Archduke Damballa directly, bypassing Marquis Padure’s rule.

  “It’d be faster to just go up and talk him,” Sylvia whispered.

  The silver-haired witch could feel the eyes on her. The gazes lingered on her body, tracing her feminine assets. Sylvia was reminded that her black dress had been designed, in part, by a succubus. Ingrid had very much intended for Sylvia’s breasts to be put on display.

  “No way,” Belkis hissed back. “You’re not even a devil. Lord Potami is no different than a marquis or a count. If a girl of your rank were to speak to him, it’d be considered very rude. Wait until he invites another lady to dance. When they finish, step in. It’s a little forward, yes, but within acceptable bounds.”

  “And what if he never dances?” Sylvia murmured back.

  Her question went unanswered because right then a smile blossomed on Belkis’s face.

  Two women approached, kitsune from the Ieros bloodline. Like Rauno, they sported triangular ears and a lone, fluffy tail. One had hair of gold and white. The other’s silken fluff was pure platinum, as shiny as Sylvia’s hair with white highlights. Both sported pale, porcelain skin too pretty to be real.

  The ieros was best known as the sacred fox. Their bloodline was more common in Heaven than Hell.

  “Baroness Meng, Lady Dai, how pleasant to meet you,” Belkis greeted with a graceful curtsy. Her sweet voice sounded strained.

  Sylvia quickly echoed her sister’s curtsy. Lady Dai politely matched. The golden-haired fox girl wore a lavender kimono. Baroness Meng smiled beside her, tapping a feathered fan against her palm.

  “How I wish I could claim the same,” Baroness Meng said snidely. A pink dress clung to her gentle curves. “Why, I’m surprised you have the guts to show your face in polite society after whoring yourself out to Viscount Nychta.”

  Belkis shook. The tell existed for only a brief second.

  “I’m sorry, Bai Meng, I hadn’t realized I snatched your man,” Belkis said charmingly. The dark-skinned lady wore gentle smile. “Perhaps that’s for the better, as Malik keeps telling me he can’t stand the smell of dogs.”

  Baroness Meng’s polite expression turned dark.

  Psychic magic was like a drug. It could be a narcotic, a stimulant, or a hallucinogen. Magic was a tool and a medicine as much as it was a weapon. Psychic spells, in particular, could become an addictive form of recreation.

  Belkis, Sylvia had noticed, was using psychic magic regularly. Right now, in the stir of her sister’s emotions, Sylvia could spot artificial rune structures tainting the natural ether.

  “Watch your tongue before your betters, von Vallenfelt,” Lady Dai reproached. The golden-haired fox stepped forward, purple eyes glaring.

  “Oh?” Belkis questioned, voice graceful and naive. “Did I say something wrong?”

  Lady Meng’s fan tapped against her palm, the slip of her visage already vanished.

  “Now, now little Mei, don’t humiliate Belkis in front of her dear sister.” Baroness Meng leaned in, silver eyes gleaming. “What an adorable creature. I want her. How much?”

  Baroness Bai Meng reached forward with her fan, feathers pressing against the bottom of Sylvia’s chin. Belkis slapped it away. Her eyes were a molten caldera on the verge of eruption.

  “Sylvia is not a pet.”

  “Really?” Lady Meng questioned. Her tail swished elegantly. “I thought all the Vallenfelts were for sale. Didn’t your master spread her legs in return for her title? Even that laureate of hers….” Bai Meng tittered behind her feathered fan. “Who would dare believe it is real?”

  “Take that back,” Belkis said sharply.

  “Or what?” Bai Meng challenged, tone threatening.

  “Or I’ll melt the skin off your bones,” Belkis warned. Ethers of fire and earth churned around her, ready to storm.

  Lady Meng’s eyes narrowed. “Is that an offer to duel?”

  “Why not?” Belkis confirmed. She smiled, viciously. “Unless, you’re afraid it will go like last time.”

  “Now enters, Viscount Malik Nychta, vassal of Lord Padure, administrator of the Nychta ward.”

  The herald’s loud call set off a wave of silence. Both Bai and Belkis stilled. Demons turned to greet the entrant.

  Lord Nychta was a golden-haired man a touch under seven feet tall. Gold as in actual gold. The viscount’s hair glistened with a distinct, metallic sheen. Two horns rose from his skull trivializing the identification of bloodline.

  As if Sylvia hadn’t known it already.

  Drakon Anthro Anthropos, commonly known as the dragonling. This was the same bloodline held by the Academy’s Isabella. The gap between the two, however, couldn’t be larger. Isabella was a second consolidation fighter. An unholy terror to an unconsolidated witch, but nothing in the grandness of the netherworld.

  Lord Nychta, according to the tag floating over his head, was a fourth consolidation Awakened demon. One more step and he could vie for a place among the high nobility of Hell.

  He was also handsome. Ridiculously, absurdly handsome. He was handsome in the same way Esmeralda Vallenfelt was beautiful and Sylvia cute. He was handsome to the point Iulian Codrin would look quite plain if put beside him.

  He was so incredibly handsome that Sylvia was inclined to reject Rauno’s testimony on the spot.

  Viscount Nychta smiled and waved as he strode through the gardens of Lost Eden. His movements were strong and purposeful, bringing him straight toward Sylvia’s sister apprentice. This time the silver-haired witch required no prompting. A year of charm club had drilled the etiquette deep into her heart.

  ““Viscount Nychta.””

  Sylvia’s voice was one among the chorus. Belkis, Bai Meng, Mei Dai, and Sylvia Swallows curtsied as a single unit. Baroness Meng dipped down especially deep, her breasts threatening to spill from her slinky, pink dress.

  And the baroness dared call Belkis a whore, Sylvia thought snidely.

  Lord Nychta didn’t spare her a glance. The dragonling had eyes for one. Kneeling, Malik Nytcha took Belkis’s hand and kissed the back. When he stood, he promptly pulled the dark-skinned witch against his body. The viscount’s right arm snaked around the Belkis’s waist, holding her tight as though she were a prize he’d won.

  The elemental witch melted, her face burning so bright it shone through her dark skin.

  Sylvia felt increasingly uncertain.

  “Why didn’t you ride in with me?” Malik questioned with low tones.

  “I told you, I have to look after my sister,” Belkis murmured.

  Lord Nychta’s slit, yellow eyes found the silver-haired witch. His gaze traced her dark, silk stockings pausing on the absolute territory beneath the hem of her skirt. Then his eyes rose before settling on the tender skin of her bosom.

  Sylvia’s skin crawled.

  Thanks, Ingrid.

  Belkis’s elbow hit the dragonling’s gut. “Don’t.”

  “You know I have no taste for water,” he refuted. “A pity. Your sister is quite the beauty. I could’ve had a collection.”

  With his right hand, Malik squeezed the prisma’s rump, making no secret of his play. Belkis wiggled uncomfortably, her head lowered in shame.

  … Okay. Maybe Sylvia owed Rauno an apology.

  Sylvia wasn’t the only one wearing a glower. Baroness Meng was holding her fan so tight the bone handle cracked.

  “Lord Nychta,” Lady Dai greeted, repeating a dainty curtsy to claim attention. “Milady Meng has long been an admirer.”

  The Viscount’s eyes switched to the baroness.

  “Baroness Meng is it?” Viscount Nychta questioned. “I hear that you’re the new Secretary of Development under Marquis Padure.”

  Lady Meng’s pale cheeks glowed under the dragonling’s attention.

  “That’s right,” she said sweetly. “If you ever need anything, feel free to contact my assistant, Mei Dai.”

  Viscount Nychta’s smile turned into a sneer. “Can a secretary be called a baroness?”

  Lady Meng froze.

  “My dear Belkis,” Malik said, stroking the elemental witch’s cheek. “Did you think you could distract me with a stupid hare eager to rush down my throat?”

  Belkis turned her head shyly. “Not in front of my sister.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Lord Nychta whispered into her ear.

  Baroness Meng’s face turned purple. “Mei, we are leaving.”

  The fox-eared woman turned, fluffy tail wagging as she strutted toward the other end of the garden. The golden-haired Lady Dai scurried after her. Not sparing a glance, Lord Nychta bent Belkis back and kissed her on the lips.

  Notes rose, and a violin played, high strings singing in the night. Malik whisked her sister away drawing her onto the clearing where the nobles danced. Before they vanished Belkis managed one reminder.

  “Don’t forget why we came, little sis.”

  Sylvia wanted to vomit.

  Her soul stirred. A page burned. It was time Lady Vallenfelt knew everything Sylvia had learned over the last few days.

  -oOo-

  Grimoire

  Levitation

  Runes: 43

  Mana: 10 to 100; 13% to 25%

  Max Range: 10 meters

  Duration: 15 minutes

  Capacity: 100 kg to 1000 kg

  An advanced magic that forms an invisible rope forged from the wind element. Once wrapped around an object this rope can be used to lift an item, though not particularly fast. The maximum weight which can be carried is defined by capacity and scales with the mana placed into the spell.

  Because the rope is tied to the caster, objects levitated will automatically be pulled by the caster. Only gentle resistance will be felt in this case. Furthermore, the levitation speed will no longer be limited by the spell but rather by the velocity of the mage. At least, so long as the object carried is not absurdly heavy or the mage ridiculously fast.

  What makes levitation novel is that multiple ropes can be spliced and wound. If spliced, the rope will be made longer allowing it to wrap around bigger objects or even multiple objects. If wound the duration of the spell and the ether ratio will be increased by one fold per an additional strand. This benefit will reach its limit when five strands are wound together.

  However, the full length of the rope must have consistent thickness.

  Regardless of the approach, the overall energy limit and, thus, lifting capacity increases linearly with the number of threads. There is no upper limit to how much an aggregated grouping of levitation spells can hold.

  Silent Boundary

  Runes: 31

  Mana: 31; 33%

  Radius: 2 to 10 meters

  Duration: 30 minutes

  A mixed spell blending the elements psychic and wind. Silent boundary creates a barrier or bubble through which sound and intent cannot pass. This blocks conversations from exiting the bubble, thus it is most commonly used as a privacy spell. However, silent boundary also prevents sounds from entering the area. As such it can be used to erect a quiet space.

  Silent boundary can be used in conjunction with space magic to easily define an area of influence. A spacial boundary, such as barrier frame, can also be used to make this spell unidirectional, either blocking only sounds coming in or going out.

  Anonymous Presence

  Runes: 52/38

  Mana: 50/35; 33%

  Duration: 15 minutes

  Anonymous presence is a void element anti-divination magic. Its primary effect is to disrupt and erase causality based information related to a person or a set of persons in an area. Information is erased within the span of duration the spell is cast.

  Interestingly, this duration can be applied post or prior. So anonymous presence can be cast after an event or before an event. Paranoid individuals will often do both.

  Though anonymous presence is most strongly directed against the threads of causality, it will also have a minor cleansing effect on conventional evidence. This may produce results such as obscuring fingerprints, distorting recordings, or even erasing text that would directly reveal the person in question. This effect is stronger in the netherworld than in the material world.

  Anonymous presence, however, cannot erase memories. Nor can it affect any magically resistant device.

  This spell is one of the more popular anti-divinations in the netherworld. As such, it exists as a basic magic using runes only from the Lesser Codex and as an advanced magic. The only real difference is the number of runes required and the spell’s mana cost.

  Tangled Weave

  Runes: 25

  Mana: 50; 33%

  A simple causality element anti-divination spell. Tangled weave sends out a pulse that scrambles information related to the caster’s recent actions. It’s considered good practice to cast tangled weave after more serious anti-divination magics. However, it must come after, as other anti-divination magics often rely on the threads of causality being present to carry out their work.

  One great feature of this spell is that it can easily piggyback on other magics. For instance, when paired with anonymous presence, it will affect the entire duration forward or back.

  While tangled weave will not block future divination, it will greatly reduce its effect. It will also make it more difficult to identify that any anti-divination spells were used in the area at all. Especially if the diviner is casting a broad search, such as: did a secret meeting recently occur in this city block?

  Sylvia’s Notes: Tangled weave is the magical equivalent to writing random 1s and 0s onto your hard drive after deleting a file.

  ? Villainess, Fix The Damn Plot! ?

  by Su Lan Yi

  Su Lan Yi was this close to immortality—until a stray chicken ruined ONE THOUSAND YEARS of cultivation.

  supposedly-dead villainess, with her soul shattered across multiple worlds and an overly enthusiastic System demanding she "fix the plot."

  Her solution? Maximum chaos.

  Su Lan Yi brings villainous chaos to every world she enters.

  What Su Lan Yi doesn't know: this isn't about fixing plots at all.

  ?? CONTAINS: Shameless villainy, multiple worlds of chaos, and one woman's vendetta against all poultry-kind, plus the cutest familiar ever.

  Something is broken in these stories... and she's going to fix it—in the most gloriously villainous way possible.