-oOo-

  Chapter 26

  -oOo-

  Where stood Sylvia Swallows?

  At the buffet table, of course.

  Like an object drawn by gravity, Sylvia was lured by the promise of delicious treats. Tasty foods were arrayed on golden platters. Wines and drinks were held in crystal cups. Flavors and tastes she’d never known.

  Sylvia wanted them all.

  What? Talk with the pretentious nobles? Tch. No way. Sylvia might’ve lived her first thirty years as a man, but she could sense the devils eyeing her. She was meat. Tasty, tasty meat. Ohn nom nom. Sylvia shoved a roll of spicy beef into her mouth. Mmm. Heaven.

  Well. Hell, to be technical.

  Sylvia scrutinized the party.

  Lost Eden was a broad park, filled with trees, grass and flowers. Hills, streams, and rock gardens conveyed a celestial beauty. A waterfall trickled over the boulders no more than ten meters to her left, casting rainbow light even amid the dark. Stone lanterns were set along the paths and clearing.

  Even the sky was different.

  The Asphodel Meadows oft held a gray haze. Here the heavens were clear, revealing a sea of stars and a beautiful silvery moon that echoed Luna.

  The gala’s dance floor was a meadow of luminescent lilies. Noble demons swayed on the earth and above it, dancing to the sound of the orchestra. A romantic backdrop which would make any girl’s heart patter. Even Sylvia found herself immersed in its beauty.

  Blue bloods were in abundance: vampires, kitsune, wights, witches, deva, elves, and asura. However, less vaunted bloodlines weren’t rare either. Demons of all manner could be found, most humanized by Awakening. The grand mutation washed away animal traits leaving behind figures handsome or beautiful.

  And this was to say nothing of those who engaged in cosmetic transformations.

  At the high table, Marquis Padure was absorbed in a quiet discussion with an elder from the Codrin clan. Malik and Belkis swirled around the party’s center, the elemental witch’s blazing dress floating as she spun. Even now, Sylvia struggled to tell whether her sister apprentice was willing or unwilling.

  Then again, if Belkis’ soul had been tampered with she might well be both.

  As for Viscount Potami? He remained at the sideline sipping a drink.

  She was going to have to dance with him.

  She was going to dance with another man.

  Sylvia gulped a cup of wine. Liquid essence poured down her throat, dissolving into complex ethers. She felt a slight buzz. It didn’t make things better.

  If some beautiful woman wanted to sweep her onto the dance floor, Sylvia would have no complaints.

  She. Wouldn’t. Complain.

  … No takers?

  Sylvia nibbled on a bit of cake.

  “If he doesn’t dance soon, I’ll just have to risk it and talk to him.”

  The silver-haired witch almost hoped Lord Potami remained in place. She really didn’t want to ask a man for a dance. She especially didn’t want to do so with an entire crowd of demons watching.

  “Aren’t you disgusted, feasting on a table above your means,” a snide, high voice interrupted. The golden-tailed kitsune, Lady Dai, sashayed in. “A mere first consolidation witch, borrowing your sister’s station. As expected from a family of whores.”

  Sylvia picked up another roll of meat then slowly, disdainfully, inserted it into her mouth. Only Kyna’s and Esmeralda’s harsh lessons on etiquette made her finish chewing before she spoke.

  “Nope. Not at all,” Sylvia retorted blandly.

  “Shameful,” Lady Dai sneered. “Your personality is not worthy of your appearance.”

  “We’re two peas in a pod then,” Sylvia returned.

  Mei Dai was a devil, which made her an Awakened demon. Interestingly, the System marked her as C-III/Mid. From this, Sylvia deduced Lady Dai’s cultivation had regressed after transmigration. That, right there, was the important distinction between the class rank system and judgments based on consolidation. Demons, when reincarnated, would have to start again from level zero.

  The additional cores they formed, however, were forever.

  Sylvia guessed Mei Dai’s raw level wasn’t far from her own. The difference in class was presumed based on the advantages that came from both tier and traits.

  Lady Dai’s expression darkened. A weapon phased into existence, a staff-spear whose blade stood three hands above the kitsune’s head.

  “Arrogance,” she berated. “Your tongue spits poison against your betters. I will have you schooled, little girl.”

  Sylvia scowled. “That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

  Transmigration, Sylvia belated remembered, also led to an emotional renewal. Which tended to make demons far more ‘youthful’ in character than age would imply.

  For instance, they might flip out like a teenage brat over a minor insult.

  “I decide what is sufficient, not a mere denizen,” Lady Dai spat. “Ready your weapon or apologize. I will accept no less than a year as my lady’s maid-servant in recompense.”

  Sylvia’s gaze flicked. She found Baroness Meng watching from a good fifteen meters away, glass of wine in hand.

  … or this could be a blatant attempt to bully Sylvia so as to humiliate Belkis.

  Sylvia conjured her staff. It would take seconds for the phantasmal shadow to settle and a few more for it to drink enough ether to fill it to the brim.

  “Then I will have to respectfully decline,” Sylvia replied evenly.

  The surrounding nobles stepped back, making light chatter. There was no loud cheer, nor a raucous chorus urging them to fight. These weren’t the low-born demons of the Young Demon’s Tournament. These were dignified nobles.

  And nobles had to care for their appearance.

  Which wasn’t to say there weren’t a few bets being quietly exchanged.

  “Miss Swallows, for your foul words and manners, I challenge you to duel,” Lady Dai called loudly to her audience. “Dare you accept?”

  “You accuse me of disrespect after calling Baroness Vallenfelt, a Laureate of Magic, a whore?” Sylvia retorted just as loudly, making sure to play to the theater. “I could no longer call my teacher master if I accepted such an insult.”

  A few gasps were drawn from the crowd. It was easy for Lady Dai, a devil, to pretend Sylvia was in the wrong. By clarifying the truth, Sylvia muddied the waters. It would earn her no friends, but it would reduce the impact of Mei Dai’s propaganda.

  “You stain my name with lies,” the golden-haired fox declared, smoothly spitting falsehoods. Her spear-staff swished through the air, blade crackling. “Then, let me silence your tongue.”

  The fight started in a blink.

  There was no ceremony. No preparation. Mei simply moved, crossing three meters of space in a single step. Her spear-staff thrust, haft shrouded by a haze of lightning.

  Sylvia was just as quick.

  The silver-haired witch turned and back stepped. “■.” Ether rippled, manifesting as liquid. Steel smashed into water, impelled by spiraling ki. Sparks jolted through a watery shield.

  The spell broke, but the weapon had already been redirected to Sylvia’s left.

  “■.”

  Feather light wrapped around Mei Dai before she could recover from her lunge.

  The sacred fox was a mixed bloodline leaning toward magic. Compared to a witch, their physical traits were far stronger. This was especially so when considering Lady Dai’s tier advantage. Pressing into melee against a mage was common sense for any species with a better warrior lilt.

  Mei, however, had failed to anticipate Sylvia’s absurd casting speed.

  The kitsune stumbled. “■■.” Not even a half second was allowed before earth exploded beneath her feet. A pillar of spiky stone rose from the dirt, spines threatening to tear through flesh.

  The golden-tailed demon reacted in an instant. Mei Dai leapt. Two wings of light formed on her back, beating once to send her blurring into the air.

  But not before rock sent splinters through her armor’s barrier.

  “■■.” Scattered water ether was recalled. The elemental energy merged with wind forming ice. A frost shield snapped into place. Without missing a beat, Sylvia followed defense with attack, spinning out a trio of wind blades from her staff. “■, ■, ■.”

  Lady Dai wasn’t half so serene.

  Disoriented by the sudden turn of events, the kitsune spun in midair while gaining distance. By the time she’d settled, all three razors were homing in on her position. Realizing her plight, Mei spun her staff, slashing through a crescent of distorted wind. In the same moment, she danced left, evading the second blade while buying herself time to deal with the third.

  Her slash transformed into a thrust. The spear-staff flashed. The wind blade rolled, hugging the weapon’s shaft. The spell cracked against Mei’s barrier.

  Air shattered like glass.

  “■■ ■■.” Quartz crackled. Lightning split the night.

  “??.”

  A plane of water formed at Mei’s front. The brilliant bolt smashed into the liquid, sending sparking beads scattering in all directions.

  The shock, however, left her unprepared for the wind blade that circled back. Hardened air cut through Lady Dai’s kimono, unleashing a spray of blood. The girl eeped then flew higher. A book swooped out from beneath the folds of her clothes, pages fluttering.

  Sylvia paused her press.

  She’d burnt her staff empty. It’d take a full eight seconds to refill. Furthermore, wind blade’s life limited its range to no more than seventy-five meters. And, in practice, it wasn’t of much use beyond the fifty meters at which Lady Dai currently floated. Burning pure mana wasn’t worth the marginal gain.

  So the witch was forced into a tense lull.

  “??????.”

  Lady Dai sang her spell rather than chanting it. A haze of law draped the devil like armor. Sylvia relaxed. It was clear the kitsune wanted to reevaluate before she counter-attacked.

  All ieros possessed natural control over the element law. Law was an advanced element of the chaos domain catalyzed from space and causality. Its power was to write the rules. In combat, its application was indirect. Mostly, it worked to apply a ‘status effect’ to an area or territory.

  In a fight, the primordial elements were far more practical.

  A fact Mei knew well, as she was clearly schooled in magecraft.

  Floating high in the sky, Lady Dai struck an elegant pose. Her angelic voice carried over the entire crowd. “It seems this will be an honorable match after all. I should expect no less from the student of a laureate.”

  Sylvia’s eye twitched. Suddenly, she was the respectable apprentice of a laureate. For that matter, why was Lady Dai striking poses and singing her spells? Did Mei think this was a fucking pageant?

  …

  Oh god, this was a fucking pageant.

  Realizing her mistake, the silver-haired witch took to the air, stepping off scattered petals. The waltz of flowers’ girlish beauty was a perfect match for the setting. Sylvia stood in the night, staff in hand, crystal filling with electric hue, a black-dressed beauty whose pale skin was illuminated by the moonlight.

  Plus, she had a really wicked, wide-brimmed witch’s hat.

  The hat was, objectively, the most important thing in the scene.

  What was a duel?

  A fight for reputation.

  Death and injury were but passing things. For the rich, even more so than the poor. If Lady Dai died, at most she’d miss the dance and the gala. However, if Lady Dai, a devil, were to die at the hands of a first consolidation peasant, that would be an eternal embarrassment.

  It was already bad enough Sylvia had taken first blood.

  So, to reduce her shame, Mei elevated Sylvia’s status.

  And this served Sylvia’s interest. Why had she come to the gala? To make a deal with Viscount Potami. The exact Viscount Potami who was now gazing up at two pretty girls, sipping his drink with casual amusement.

  If Sylvia played her cards right, she might well earn her chance to meet with Drugi.

  More importantly, she might even avoid having to dance!

  “Since you honor my master, I can forgive your insult,” Sylvia proclaimed magnanimously. Not to the kitsune, but to her audience. “But duels must be fought to the death.”

  “Hmph, you are not in position to forgive anything,” Lady Dai retorted. “However, as an enlightened devil, I’ll overlook your country bumpkin foolery. ?????.”

  The kitsune sang. As she did, two bands of ether churned around her. The first, law, stirred her robes then swirled around her golden tail. The second, lightning, cascaded up and down her spear. Two spells. Two sets of runes.

  Dual casting.

  Lips pressed, Sylvia flicked three wind blades in Mei Dai’s direction. While they were still in transit, the kitsune’s law spell was realized.

  A cone of light broader than a train swept through Sylvia in a blink. The wash of white left the witch unharmed, ether tingling as it brushed across her body. Her frost shield, however, melted. The bonds between runes faded. Mana without structure dissolved into ether, scattering like ice cast into the sun.

  Even the barrier projected by her armor started to crack.

  Ah, fuck.

  Right on the tail of the first, Mei’s second spell reached completion. Lightning crackled. The sky split, filled with brilliant blue.

  Sylvia reacted in a flash.

  “■.” With a single sound, water replaced frost. The runes warped, cracking under the weight of law. Before the shield could falter, Sylvia’s hand plunged forward. Her fingers sank into cool liquid. Ki flooded out through her limb, driving Mei Dai’s magic back.

  And not an instant too soon.

  BANG!

  Thunder cracked. Sylvia jolted. Lightning smashed into water then cascaded though her ki and up her arm. Her barrier, already weakened, shattered. Invisible air fell away like broken glass. Electricity crawled through flesh even as the shock blew her back. Sylvia tumbled head over heel, world consumed by pain.

  But only for half a second.

  Instinct took control. Her spin turned into a slide, waves of petals rising from Sylvia’s back. By the time she was stable, Lady Dai was already closing.

  “??, ?, ?.”

  Mei Dai rolled through air, white wings carrying her like a flitting leaf between Sylvia’s blades. At the same time, air was shaped to the fox’s will, creating a trio of razors. Shaken but firm, Sylvia danced to the side, skirt rising in a beautiful swirl.

  As she did, Sylvia’s staff whipped. “■.” A blazing ball of flew straight into the charging kitsune’s face.

  Foomp!

  Fire exploded, shrouding the night in a heated orange glow. The shock knocked Lady Dai to the side. With the devil flying wide, Sylvia leapt off air, using the waltz of flowers. Rather than guard, the asteri took a risk, dodging between two of the fox’s blades even as she directed her final wind blade to intercept the third.

  The first went wide, the witch passing through the inner curve. The second buzzed close. Sylvia leaned, sharp air kissing one delicate cheek. A line of crimson spread across pale skin.

  “■■, ■, ■.”

  As she moved, runes formed on Sylvia’s lips. Water was drawn from her place, leaving just enough for one, final defense. The asteri pointed her staff.

  Water knife.

  Bullets shot through the dark as though Sylvia were unloading a pistol. Still reeling from Sylvia’s flame shot, Lady Dai panicked. The ieros pumped pure mana into her armor, returning the barrier to life. Beads of water passed through a shroud of light. Softened, they struck invisible air.

  Thup, thup, poosh.

  The barrier held on the first strike then shattered on the second. By the time the third arrived, Mei Dai had raised a hasty water shield for protection. White wings beat, sending the kitsune in a tight curve back toward the witch.

  With a furious expression, Lady Dai closed. The devil’s spear-staff slashed through the sky, a flash of beautiful moonlight.

  “■~!”

  With an almost contemptuous sweep of her hand, Sylvia blasted her aside with a water shield chained into a torrent. Poosh! The explosion sent the kitsune spinning. White wings opened wide before Lady Dai could crash into the crowd.

  Whoosh.

  Lady Dai skimmed over the noble audience, kimono billowing. Thrilled ahhs were drawn from the crowd. With both her staff and palace near empty, Sylvia watched and waited.

  The golden-haired kitsune rose like an angel in the night, a distance comparable to a football field between them. Too far for anything in Sylvia’s basic repertoire other than a lightning bolt. Worse, Lady Dai’s flying speed was nearly twice hers. The ieros had complete control over the distance.

  With her beautiful voice, Lady Dai sang a new law into being.

  “??? ???.”

  A great wave spread out. The spell expanded until it covered an area two hundred meters in radius. Water ether congealed. The flow became sluggish to the point Sylvia’s water palace felt as though it were gasping. The witch glanced over one shoulder. The edge of this new territory was centered on the kitsune.

  No way to close. No way to escape. It was clear Mei Dai wanted to turn the fight into a slugging match and Sylvia barely had enough for a single water shield as is.

  It was simple math. Without a steady flow of ether, Sylvia’s water shields would cost more than Lady Dai’s lightning bolts. While the witch could return the favor, there were two serious problems.

  First, the kitsune’s mana pool was definitely larger than her own.

  Second, if Mei’s mana ran low first, she could still win the fight by using ki and muscle.

  What were her options? Hide in the trees. No. This was a pageant.

  … this was a pageant.

  Sylvia grinned. Earth ether condensed around the witch. Calm and steady, she waited.

  Lady Dai behaved exactly as expected. “?????.”

  Lightning flashed. Sylvia raised a water shield in response. Liquid splattered. Rather than accept the double tap, the silver-haired witch raised her staff. The quartz crystal crackled with electric fury.

  “■■ ■■!”

  BANG!

  Mei Dai met it with a water shield of her own. The jagged bolt turned it into a spray of water.

  “Are you trying to bore everyone to death?” Sylvia shouted in challenge. The witch stood upon the sky, staff forward and left hand behind her back as though she were a fencer.

  “?????,” Mei Dai sang in retort.

  Brilliant light streaked across the sky. Sylvia condensed the earth ether she’d gathered, before spitting out a sequence of fourteen runes, “■■.”

  Earth Bulwark. Without a foundation on which to form, the stone figment crumbled into a dust a second after creation. But that second was long enough. Lightning stuck, tearing through the flimsy foundation. But one of the follies of lightning bolt was that it lacked deep penetration. The spell splintered, sending jagged sparks in every direction.

  Sylvia endured the pain when a few pierced through her body. In times like these, her neglect of vitality was made painful.

  Polite applause celebrated the novel defense. Lady Dai glowered. This was a pageant. If fox insisted on fighting like this, she’d lose even if she won.

  “A novel trick, nothing more,” Mei Dai decried.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Mei Dai’s spear-staff drew ether. At her side a book floated, releasing streams of shimmering runes. These chains wove themselves into the two law spells Lady Dai was maintaining. One to suppress water. Another to shield her body.

  Her beautiful, golden tail swished back and forth, the tip a puff of white fur. Subtly, runes were drawn. Against a different demon, her tactic might’ve worked. Sylvia’s pure starlight eyes glimpsed the truth.

  So that’s how Lady Dai planned to shake things up. Well, two could play that game.

  “Novelty is what makes duels worth watching,” Sylvia replied.

  As Sylvia spoke, her left hand formed a series of seals, conjuring a string of runes. Wind scythe was a seventy-four rune advanced magic. Sylvia had cast the spell a few dozen times as practice, but her familiarity was sketchy enough she’d opened her Networked Grimoire.

  If Sylvia wanted to chant the spell normally, it’d take twenty syllables.

  “If you cannot endure a brief moment of tedium, then accept defeat and I’ll let you go,” Lady Dai said imperiously.

  “I should say the same.”

  In mortal terms, twenty syllables amounted to four seconds. Since Sylvia’s celerity and awareness were well above the human norm, the real casting time was closer to two-point-five seconds.

  Those were two-point-five seconds during which Sylvia couldn’t cast any other spell. The same constraint applied to Lady Dai. If either of them had dared to cast an advanced magic, the other would shove two or three lightning bolts through their opponent’s chest.

  Which was why the ieros was using their conversation as cover, while casting her spell in secret.

  “A mere peasant offering mercy to a devil?” Mei Dai sneered. “You speak above your station.”

  Nervous pressure weighed on the witch. Compared to her verbal casting speed, Sylvia’s mastery of hand seals was utter garbage. The best she could manage was six runes a second.

  Thus, she needed twelve seconds to cast her spell.

  In a way, Sylvia was making a gamble. With a single lightning bolt, she could end this farce. However, by doing so, she’d return the fight to the status quo. Or, she could drag things on a little longer and hope her skill was greater than Mei Dai’s.

  “In a fight, mercy belongs to the strong!” Sylvia shouted in retort.

  The last rune fell into place. Sylvia’s left hand whipped around, seventy-four runes spun into a coiled circle consisting of three loops. Huge flows of ether poured from her staff, combining with her mana to grant the spell life. The sheer energy she summoned matched a maximized lighting bolt.

  Lady Dai’s purple eyes went wide. She burst into song, rushing her spell to completion. “??? – ”

  A screaming buzzsaw tore through the air. Wind scythe was wind blade’s bigger, older, nastier brother. It was faster, stronger, tougher, and longer lived. In a mere fraction of a second, it had already reached the kitsune. Hastily, Lady Dai raised her spear. The scythe smashed into the haft, shedding angry sparks before deflecting. The ieros staggered. The spell twisted in midair, flying back for another go.

  This was wind scythe’s true terror. When wind blade met with counter force, it shattered. The scythe was undeterred.

  The shock, however, wasn’t enough to stop Mei Dai’s incantation.

  “ – ???!”

  Thick bands of lighting gathered around the golden-haired fox. A brilliant bolt lit the night. Lightning lance. Clammy terror gripped Sylvia’s crystal heart. The witch poured energy into her armor, even as she conjured a water shield with pure mana.

  “■!”

  BA –

  The explosive spell was swallowed by abyssal dark, drenching the world in sudden silence. Between witch and devil appeared a vampire. Marquis Padure was suspended in midair, hand held out to catch Lady Dai’s lightning lance. In the distance, shadow flickered. An umbral blade sliced Sylvia’s wind scythe in twain.

  “A beautiful display of magic,” Lord Padure praised. The marquis was a thin, dark-haired man with eyes as bright as Mars. “Lady Dai, Miss Swallows, thank you for adding flair to my gala. I dare say that many of the men had already grown bored with the food and drink.”

  A few nobles chuckled. Sylvia spotted a couple eyeing each other, perhaps wishing to heighten the festivities with a touch of murder.

  “But let us not see two flowers shed blood,” the marquis continued. “Instead, let us honor these lovely ladies with a dance. That is, gentlemen, if you do not mind this humble request.”

  …

  Sylvia didn’t know if she should be pissed or thankful that Lord Padure had interrupted her duel to make her dance with a man.

  Lady Dai, however, had no doubts.

  “Marquis Padure,” Mei Dai accepted sweetly, offering an aerial curtsy. “If I might be so bold.”

  “Bold indeed,” Lord Padure laughed. “Aiming straight for the top, I see. Well, I cannot deny my own offer. Lady Dai, it would be my delight to dance with a beauty who shines like moonlight.”

  Lord Padure returned the kitsune’s curtsy with a suave bow. Eyes of brilliant red turned toward the silver-haired witch.

  “And you, Miss Swallows?”

  Sylvia curtsied, as was proper. “Viscount Potami, if he wouldn’t mind.”

  Okay. This was actually far worse than awkwardly slipping up to a man and dancing with him after he finished with another girl. So awkward that Sylvia feared she’d die from embarrassment.

  She could only hope her cheeks weren’t burning.

  Marquis Padure looked over his shoulder to the elephant eared man below.

  “Drugi, it looks like your luck with women has turned.”

  “We both know who’s more handsome between the two of us,” Drugi called, belly quivering as he laughed. Yellow-green eyes, like those of a basilisk, turned toward the witch. The giant demon let out a heavy sigh. “Miss Swallows probably looked at me and felt nostalgia for her mortal father. At least, I hope it was her father. It would be quite dreadful if she were recalling her grandfather, instead.”

  “Lucifer knows you’re old enough for it,” Lord Padure returned.

  “Nandru, I haven’t forgotten you are halfway to your second millennia,” Drugi said in retort.

  The big man stomped down. Muffled thunder rumbled as he rocketed into the sky. The leap came to its crest at Sylvia’s side. The great demon stopped, the faint visage of beaten earth shimmering underneath his boots.

  “Miss Swallows, you wouldn’t happen to be familiar with the high seelie sweep?”

  “I am,” She admitted, gently taking the viscount’s offered hand.

  “Then, let us dance.”

  The music resumed. The band played a classic piece created thousands of years before Sylvia’s birth. Drugi was a mammoth of a man, half again taller than the petite witch. His skin was thick and leathery with a grayish tinge. His body was broad. Not like a human. Instead, the viscount was built thick at the root. His bones were broader and his joints wider to support columns of flesh and muscle.

  There was also a pressure to his presence, a heavy weight on the world. Lord Potami was a fifth consolidation demon. His strength had reached the point that the plane’s logic started to distort because of his existence.

  They began to dance.

  Drugi guided the pink-eyed witch through the first few steps, large body moving with preternatural grace. Sylvia swirled, high heels stepping lightly off the night in a shower of petals. The delicacy of her footwork did not match the force of her ki.

  An aerial waltz of flowers was as exhausting as a jog around a track. The intense movement of battle was no different than a sprint. Sylvia was already feeling a bit worn.

  “I don’t imagine you picked me for my good looks.”

  Sylvia most certainly had not. Lord Potami’s face bore a long, stretched nose which fit deep inside the uncanny valley. Even if she had the slightest interest in men, Sylvia wouldn’t have chased the viscount.

  “I heard you have an astralship for sale.”

  “You are a well-informed woman,” Viscount Potami replied. He turned with thunderous steps, arm around the witch’s waist. “The Utrecht is quite dear to my heart. I fear I cannot part with her for less than three million soli.”

  Belkis was right. Nobles did, indeed, discuss business while they danced. Sylvia’s greatest worry was she’d have put up with all this for nothing.

  Lord Potami threw her into the air. Sylvia cartwheeled before turning her fall into a spin. A graceful skate followed where the two circled around each other, swirling in before joining hands anew.

  The high seelie sweep was an aerial dance, filled with energy and style. It was one among many ways nobles separated themselves from the common folk. When Kyna had covered the dance in charm club, she’d merely shown the steps.

  After all, Sylvia at the time couldn’t fly.

  Fortunately, her System had an obsessive love for synergy.

  “I don’t suppose I can talk you into two-and-a-half,” the silver-haired witch suggested daringly.

  “I might be convinced to two-and-three-quarters,” Drugi responded, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement. “But only if you tell me how a girl with no more than ten years of life achieves a draw against a devil of three centuries.”

  Sylvia missed a step. Drugi expertly led, tugging her through the action. The asteri quickly recovered, trying not to notice the touch of his body against hers.

  Dancing with Emily was a lot more fun.

  “No need for surprise. Young souls have a certain smoothness and clarity,” Lord Potami explained. “Experienced demons can judge your age, should you stand close enough to them.”

  “I see,” Sylvia answered.

  Something to be wary of in the future. It was not an issue now, but when Sylvia reached the second consolidation or the third, the age of her soul would have to be disguised.

  With her back to Lord Potami, the silver-haired witch completed a delicate prance. Both hands pinched the sides of her skirt, raising it slightly as though she were about to curtsy. This was a ladies solo with Sylvia’s body elevated so that the hem of her dress was at the height of Drugi’s chin. Belatedly, Sylvia realized that this part of the high seelie sweep looked an awful lot like an invitation.

  “My master is a good teacher,” Sylvia lied, sinking as she completed the final spin to face the karnabo.

  Sylvia hated the word master. It was a word loaded with dark meaning in the world in which she’d been born. But it was also the proper term for her relationship with Esmeralda Vallenfelt. Spirit speech was a funny thing. If Sylvia chose to call Lady Vallenfelt teacher instead, there might linger a faint sense that her words were parsed and why.

  So politeness demanded Sylvia name Esmeralda correctly.

  “She must be an exceptional woman,” Drugi commented. “I apologize for probing your secrets.”

  Sylvia shook her head. “Anyone from the Timeless Beryl Wildness could’ve told you the same.”

  And if Viscount Potami asked the right person, they might even inform him she wasn’t even two years old by demon reckoning.

  Drugi swayed. The sweep’s energy faded into a slow, close dance, reminding Sylvia of a waltz.

  “I don’t think I’ve set foot on that plane.”

  “The Timeless Beryl Wilderness gets its name because the sun never rises nor sets,” Sylvia explained. “The whole plane is covered in forest whether in night, daylight, or the Frozen Wastes.” Then she paused. A humorous thought crossed her mind. “The demon king is a viscount.”

  “And suddenly I’m intrigued,” Lord Potami laughed. “A dance is not a suitable place to haggle. Come by my manor in the next few days, and we will discuss business in a more appropriate venue.”

  “Thank you,” Sylvia said, settling on the ground.

  The music fell quiet.

  “One last word before we part,” Drugi said. His slit yellow-green eyes gazed into fractal pink. Chills crawled down her spine. “Duat Dream Drop.”

  “What?”

  “Come prepared, Miss Swallows,” Viscount Potami said firmly, as though his prior words were never spoken. “I won’t pass my Utrecht into unworthy hands.”

  The great demon jumped back. A brief second was all it took for Drugi to return to the high table. Sylvia remained in the sky, processing the last few moments. Then, in the corner of her eye, she spotted hyenas approaching her position. The asteri scurried out of the clearing.

  If any of those men asked her for a dance, Sylvia would be obliged to accept.

  Because she was a denizen amid devils.

  Finally free from all obligations, Sylvia retired beside the buffet table. The silver-haired witch contemplated the dishes. There was a delicious looking lobster-like creature laid out on a platter. The fluffy meat emerged from a pitch black shell, shedding steamy heat. An eye stock turned around then blinked. After a moment of hesitation, Sylvia decided to fill her plate with assorted fruits instead.

  The asteri popped a giant grape into her mouth. The flesh yielded, filled with a flavor reminiscent of pomegranate.

  Pastel pink eyes swept the gala.

  Belkis had likewise retired from the dance floor. Sylvia wanted to save her senior sister, but right now the elemental witch was tucked in beside Lord Nychta at the high table. Baroness Meng stood on the other side of the clearing, glaring daggers at the prisma. Lady Dai continued to dance, having switched to a new partner.

  Despite events playing outside expectations, the golden-haired kitsune looked quite pleased with herself.

  It seemed the night would stretch on for hours.

  Then, without warning, a heavy weight settled on Sylvia’s shoulder. The silver-haired witch stiffened. Her eyes flashed with anger.

  “Excuse me,” Sylvia said, turning.

  The asteri found herself face to face with a horse. The beast’s nostrils flared, letting out a puff of air that stirred her silver bangs.

  Words caught in Sylvia’s throat.

  The creature in front of her wasn’t a demon. It was a Class III phantasmal beast. A true, horse shaped creature sporting a pink and purple mane and a white coat. A single, spiraled, crystal horn rose from the beast’s forehead glowing with rainbow light.

  A unicorn.

  The creature nudged her with its muzzle. The unicorn released a friendly whinny seeming pleased to stand in Sylvia’s presence.

  “It seems the lady has a bit of trouble,” a vampire noted.

  The demon held a cup of crimson wine, making sure to stand a good five meters back. Eyes like dried blood leered. The pale faced man wore a slimy smile. Another devil, this one with goat horns on either side of his head, chimed in after.

  “This kind of problem is best solved at the root,” the Satyr added, speaking with great authority. “Slowly. Deeply. Thoroughly. And preferably, all night long. But the lady is in luck. I suspect that there are a few brave men here who are willing to make the sacrifice.”

  …

  Sylvia’s face turned beet red.

  The asteri tugged down the rim of her hat so that it hid her face. Then she promptly turned and ran. Waves of petals exploded from her feet as she escaped into the sky fleeing both the crowd and the white horse.

  The unicorn let out a forlorn whinny as she left.

  Stupid beast!

  A few minutes later, Sylvia was perched in a distant tree angrily gnashing on the last of her fruit. A warm wind blew, carrying with it the scent of sulfur.

  “Dumb unicorn,” she muttered, feeling aggrieved. “Go pick on a different girl. I’m not that pure. I’ve had plenty of experience with my waifus and Mr. Hand.”

  She missed her dinky little apartment. More than that, she missed the internet.

  Also, it was Miss Hand these days.

  Sylvia checked her soul. Esmeralda’s reply had appeared on her notebook. Her teacher’s letter was quite lengthy, filling the whole page while touching on each of the subjects Sylvia had discussed. The silver-haired witch skipped over the bulk to find the bit on Belkis.

  Kill her and examine her soul.

  Yeah, there was no question about it. Sylvia was in Hell.

  -oOo-

  Bestiary:

  Mei Dai

  Species: Sacred Fox

  Lv: 300

  Hp/Mp: 772 + 300 / 1,097

  Atk/Def: 194 / 29

  Celerity: 187%, 374% flight

  Traits: Sacred Heart, Natural Magic: Law, Elemental Well: Law, Deep Reservoir II, Grace, Angelic Wings

  Equipment: Lotus Kimono, Book of Rules, Lighting Spear-Staff

  Bloodline: Sacred Fox

  Type: Mixed

  Potential: High

  Commonality: Rare

  Formal Name: Katergaris Alepou Ieros

  A member of the kitsune family, the sacred fox is known for its ability to manipulate the element law. Paired with their strong tendency towards purity, this has led the bloodline into a traditional role of shrine keeper or a protector of a sacred space. Law magic is also well suited for territory defense, resource management, and setting up safe spaces in the wilderness.

  Because of this, a sacred fox is always in high demand. Combined with their beautiful, human appearance, and the ieros bloodline is a typical blue blood of the netherworld. This is particularly true in Hell, where they are rarer.

  The scared fox has a heart-like organ that serves as its core. In addition to supplying life, this organ provides a natural cleansing effect. As such, the ieros suffers reduced duration from poisons, curses, and harmful hexes of all kinds.

  Though technically a mixed race, the sacred fox leans in the direction of magic. Because law magic is very indirect, most successful warriors from this bloodline make a serious study of magecraft. However, because their bodies are tougher and stronger than pure magical species, it is recommended that all ieros spend effort learning the ki based arts as well.

  The majority of the ieros live in Heaven, with two-thirds of the remainder in the Fey Federation. They are rather rare in Hell, though not spectacularly so.

  As a general rule, sacred foxes have fine white skin and pale colored hair/fur that resembles a precious metal.

  Bloodline: Fire Fox

  Type: Mixed

  Potential: Medium

  Commonality: Uncommon

  Formal Name: Katergaris Alepou Fotia

  Bearing fur of the colors red and orange, the fire fox is member of the kitsune family. It is also the only bloodline from the Alepou genera to start their life with a bipedal animal-like appearances. This, combined with their medium potential, means that the fire fox is often considered a lesser race. This is particularly true among the Alepou genera.

  Every fire fox has natural command over a special aspect called fox fire. This flame is an aspect born from the void, psychic, and fire elements. It contains an illusionary character, allowing it to be woven into vivid hallucinations. However, it can also be used to burn the mind or body of any target, allowing for quite aggressive uses of this magic. While fox fire is notably weaker than direct flame, the void trait means it can bypass most defenses or strike at intangible objects and foes.

  Fox fire can even be used to incinerate spells.

  Overall, the fire fox has a near balance between physical and magical attributes. However, within this domain they tilt heaviest toward wit and agility, with a weakness in spirit and vitality. More than most kitsune, they are consummate tricksters. There is great debate as to whether this is a result of their illusions or simply the bloodline influencing their personality.

  Fotia often gain a human appearance after Awakening.

  The fire fox is most commonly found in Hell, being notably rarer in Heaven and the Fey Federation.

  Bloodline: Tailed Fox

  Type: Mixed

  Potential: High

  Commonality: Uncommon

  Formal Name: Katergaris Alepou Oura

  Perhaps the most famous of the kitsune bloodlines, the tailed fox adds a tail with each consolidation and mutation completed. Every tail represents a new element or power, often a magic but sometimes a physical trait. The core of an oura is a natural elemental palace which advances in minute margins with each tail the fox gains.

  The oura reach their limit at nine-tails. However, sometimes during a consolidation a tail will be skipped. Because of this, tailed foxes typically obtain their last tail during Apotheosis.

  Short of their magic stat, the tailed fox has mediocre attributes in all other categories. Many demons look down upon them for this reason, particularly witches, who find the overly broad selection of natural magic a detriment rather than an advantage.

  Still, the bloodline has proven rather successful. They are uncommon in both Hell and the Fey Federation, They are rare in Heaven.