4th Day of 3rd Water Cycle[1], 1999 g.c.
To the north of Velonica, nestled in the heart of the small neighboring country of Endora, stood a living marvel that towered over all who dared to gaze upon it. Known as the Sycamore Tree, it was the largest living tree on the continent of Arcadia. Its reputation preceded it, whispered about in taverns, sung in ballads, and revered by peasants and travelers alike. The colossal tree stretched an astounding 915 meters[2] into the sky, its thick, weathered bark resembling the ancient walls of a fortress. Sunlight filtered through its sprawling canopy, casting soft, dappled patterns on the forest floor below. They said the Sycamore's roots ran so deep they drank from the planet's lifeblood, its leaves glowing faintly with residual mana. Some claimed it housed a community of enigmatic beings, though none could agree on their nature—demons, feyfolk, or something far older. To most, it was a symbol of awe and mystery. To a desperate child fleeing for his life, it was his only hope.
Just beyond the edge of the sprawling open field beneath the Sycamore Tree, a young human boy fought his way through the dense, untamed forest. His small frame—ribs visible beneath his torn shirt—shuddered with each breath. He stumbled forward, his dirt-crusted hands clawing through bushes that tore at his fingers, roots threatening to trip him. The rich, earthy scent of soil filled the air, but it was tainted by the metallic tang of blood—the boy's own—seeping from scratches across his arms and face. A chilling breeze whipped past him, stinging his open wounds and carrying faint echoes of the battle far to the south, though he did not know its source. The forest felt alive and oppressive all at once, the rustle of leaves and snap of distant twigs feeding his panic.
"I've been running forever. Did I get away? Is it still behind me?"
His voice was barely audible over the drumbeat of his heart, and his words trembled as he spoke them aloud, as if trying to ground himself in his own existence. Wide, tear-streaked eyes darted through the gloom, scanning for any sign of movement. Every shadow seemed to shift, and every flicker of light was an enemy.
The ground beneath him had not stopped trembling since the attack. The shaking had started as a low vibration that built into something violent and all-encompassing, throwing him from the carriage. It had cracked the sturdy wooden frame as easily as brittle bones, spilling him onto the forest floor. If not for the gale-force wind that tore through the land moments after, dislodging branches and splintering trees, he would have been trapped beneath the wreckage—easy prey for the monster.
The boy's small hands clenched into fists at the thought of the creature that had descended upon them, its monstrous form too terrifying for his mind to comprehend fully. It had destroyed everything. It had taken everything. His parents' faces were still fresh in his memory, frozen in expressions of horror and pain as the thing had ripped through their bodies. He didn't know what it was—he couldn't. All he knew was that he had to run.
"Should I run closer to that big tree? Would it find me there?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking under the strain of holding back sobs.
His chest heaved as he crouched behind a thick tangle of roots, his small hands gripping the wood as though it could anchor him to safety. He tried to catch his breath, the raw ache in his lungs making him gasp like a drowning man.
The Sycamore loomed above the distant treetops, its towering form unmistakable even through the gaps in the canopy. It looked like a titan standing watch over the land. He didn't know what kind of safety it might provide, but the vastness of its shadow seemed to call to him, offering solace or, at the very least, a place to hide.
But the thought of stopping, of slowing for even a moment, filled him with dread. What if it was still out there, hunting him? What if it had already circled ahead, waiting for him to stumble into its jaws? The boy's breath hitched as the memory of its claws—long, green, and dripping with blood—flashed through his mind.
Trembling, he pushed himself upright, his small frame dwarfed by the towering trees. He glanced back toward the faint trail of broken branches and trampled grass that marked his flight, then forward toward the Sycamore's distant sanctuary.
"I don't wanna die…" he whimpered, his voice barely audible.
And then he ran again, forcing his legs to move through the pain, toward the only thing in the world that seemed even remotely safe.
As the little boy dashed through the dense forest, his legs aching and scratched from underbrush, a new sound began to creep into his awareness. The rhythmic clanking of metal and the steady pounding of hammers interrupted the cacophony of his frantic breathing and rustling leaves. It was a familiar melody, one that tugged at a bittersweet corner of his memory. His father had been a carpenter, and the boy had often accompanied him to construction sites, carrying tools and listening to the lively symphony of work. The thought of his father brought a pang of pain, but the sound itself was like a beacon.
He slowed his pace, curiosity mingling with desperation. Could there be people here? People who could help him? He adjusted his direction, the faint noise growing louder as he followed it deeper into the unknown. The mechanical clanking cut through the organic forest sounds. Each step brought him closer, his small body pushing past hanging vines and skirting uneven roots that threatened to trip him.
When he emerged from the trees at the forest's edge, the sight before him made him pause. A towering fence, intricately carved from dark wood, rose before him. Its imposing height was softened by a path lined with lanterns, their flames flickering in hues of ethereal green. The eerie light cast dancing shadows across the ground, painting the scene with an otherworldly charm. Beyond the fence, the clamor of construction grew louder, more distinct, as the boy's wide eyes scanned what lay beyond.
There were skeletal frames of buildings in various stages of completion, the wood and stone fitting together in seamless harmony. Workers moved like clockwork, focused on their tasks, their movements blending with the soundscape of hammer strikes and saws. The boy's gaze drifted higher, where the colossal bark of the Sycamore Tree stretched endlessly into the heavens. Upon closer inspection, he noticed lanterns affixed to the bark, their green glow marking what appeared to be carved-out windows embedded in the tree's massive trunk. It was both majestic and unsettling, a place that seemed plucked from the pages of a fairytale.
Unbeknownst to him, a small black cat perched silently in the shadows of a nearby branch. Its sleek fur shimmered faintly in the green light, and the white tip of its tail flicked lazily back and forth like salt dusting the morning air. Its luminous yellow eyes followed the boy's every move with a gaze as still and unblinking as death.
The boy took a step forward, his breath hitching as relief swept over him. He felt a flicker of hope for the first time since his nightmare began. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his dirt-streaked cheeks. He pressed a hand to his chest, his shoulders trembling as quiet sobs wracked his tiny frame.
"People," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "They can help me. I'm saved…"
But before he could take another step or call out to the workers, a light tap on his shoulder froze him in place. His head whipped around, and his tear-filled eyes met a cloaked figure's strange and piercing gaze.
The woman stood before him, her posture casual but charged with an unsettling energy, like a predator toying with its prey. Her skin was blige-colored, a natural mix of hues that hinted at something mystical. The hood of her cloak shadowed her face, but vivid, lemon-yellow eyes glowed beneath, unblinking. A few strands of hair—a glossy black bang—fell against her forehead, brushing lightly over the edge of her brow. Her lips, painted in black, curved into a slight smile, revealing the edges of sharp fangs that glinted when she spoke.
"You look lost, child," she said, her voice a lilting soprano with an edge of playful malice, like the warning growl of a wildcat behind thin glass. "May I ask what you're doing here?"
The boy staggered back, his chest tightening as terror washed over him. He threw his hands up in front of his face, trembling violently as he cried out.
"Please don't eat me! Don't kill me!" His voice cracked, his words spilling out in a panicked rush.
The woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, amused. "Calm down," she said, her tone remaining almost teasing. "How about you answer my question? What are you doing here?"
His breathing was shallow, his fear palpable, but he forced himself to answer.
"I—I'm looking for help," he stammered, his voice breaking. "My mom and dad… They were attacked and k-killed by a winged monster. I think it's chasing me."
The woman's smile faded slightly, her expression becoming thoughtful as she regarded him. For a moment, the forest was eerily silent, save for the faint hammering in the distance. Her tail swished beneath the cloak, but she said nothing.
Then, finally, she asked, "How old are you, boy?"
"Eight," he answered, his voice barely audible.
Her sigh was soft, almost imperceptible, but there was a note of disappointment in it.
"Run far from here, child," she said finally, her back turning to him. Her voice grew colder, tinged with an ominous warning. "You will find only more death near that tree."
Before he could respond, a deafening bang shattered the quiet, a sudden and violent sound that made him flinch and spin around instinctively. When he turned back, the woman was gone. The space where she had stood moments ago was empty, as if she had vanished into the very air.
The boy stood there, his heart racing, unsure if he had imagined her. The cat, still perched in the shadows, flicked its tail once more before slinking deeper into the trees, leaving the boy alone once again.
Twenty floors higher, behind a large glass window with an open circular center, sat a luxurious interior only rivaled by the noble houses I've seen within the memories of Luda. the heart of the Sycamore covenant, nestled deep within the colossal tree. The chamber radiated an ancient warmth, as if every timber and stone hummed with mana—living, breathing, and pulsing with the essence of centuries of spells cast and secrets kept. The blue sunlight streaming through the towering arched windows refracted against the obsidian-black frames, casting an ethereal glow over the space. Velvet shadows mingled with streaks of cool azure light, giving the room a dreamlike quality.
A blend of scents—tangy, citrus-tinged herbs simmering in distant cauldrons, sweet musk from aged parchment, and the faint, spiced smoke of the woodsy hearth—lulled the senses into a state of heightened calm. Velvet indigo sofas invited you to surrender; their cushions plumped and welcoming, while the hearth's flickering amber flames seemed to murmur forgotten incantations. A chandelier of crystalline drops hung above, shimmering faintly as if siphoning energy from the mana-rich air. This room wasn't just a space; it was a stage for dominance and power, a haven for the wicked and the wise. The pull of its magic lingered like a phantom caress, tantalizing and inescapable.
Amid this luxurious haven, a hexagonal portal flared open. Taurus emerged, his massive wings slightly ruffled, his armor scratched and stained with evidence of a grueling battle. His sharp, obsidian feathers bore the signs of the Wolfpak's defiance, and the frustration carved into his face was vivid. His heavy steps echoed through the room as he marched forward, his fists clenching and unclenching as he replayed the fight in his mind. The weight of failure settled on his shoulders, sour and suffocating.
He seethed silently, his mind a storm of suspicion.
"He has to be planning something. Orion couldn't have reported this to The Elohim yet. If he had, the response wouldn't be so… subdued. No, there's something he's not telling me."
Taurus' brow furrowed deeper, his pacing agitated.
"How long has he known about the Devil of Velonica? How many others in Heaven's ranks know about this? Am I the only one kept in the dark?"
His brooding was interrupted by the faint sound of approaching footsteps and the lilting hum of a conversation.
"I think it's because I'm a nekomata. I've got a built-in oral fixation," a vivacious voice purred, laced with mischief.
"Really? I guess that explains why most of the women here love sucking on things," came the sultry, teasing reply, its tone dripping with a dangerous flirtation.
The voices grew louder, accompanied by soft footsteps that carried a rhythm of languid grace. The first woman's words rang out again, her tone playful, almost sing-song.
"So do all Xeno-Humans like to suck dick, too? Or are you more like succubi? I've always wanted to ask."
The door creaked open to reveal the speakers: Azumi Midori and Luvina Puff. Azumi's presence was a stark contrast to her earlier displays of chaotic destruction. Her playful demeanor sparkled with an almost juvenile glee as she bounced into the room. Her breasts moved with her every step, a brazen confidence radiating from her.
Behind her entered Luvina. Her ashen skin shimmered faintly in the light, platinum-white locks cascading like moonlight. Smoky grey sclera cradled luminous white irises, giving her an ethereal allure that was hard to ignore, her sharp cheekbones and petite nose adding a touch of refined elegance to her predatory beauty. Human-looking but oddly otherworldly. Her movements carried the fluid grace of a stalking feline—each step deliberate, hips swaying just enough to draw the eye, with her sculpted curves seemingly crafted to disarm even the most guarded of souls. Yet, beneath the soft, tempting exterior lay a coiled menace, like a viper hidden in the plush innocence of a child's toy, her gaze promising delight while hinting at destruction. Flowing from the garnet-hued mana crystal nestled between her full, rounded breasts was a scarf-like cover, a marvel of pure magical energy. The fabric of mana rippled and shimmered like liquid silk, cascading over her shoulders and back with the hypnotic rhythm of living water, its delicate flow masking the raw, deadly power it emanated. Every detail of her presence struck the room with an overwhelming tension—a predator cloaked in seduction, her aura a tantalizing contradiction of allure and lethality.
"I'm an Umdori," Luvina said, her voice laced with subtle seduction. "My sex drive far exceeds that of most races here. The males, especially, have a… harder time keeping up after multiple sessions."
Azumi giggled, her tone unbothered. "Well, that's why I prey on both sexes. Most women on this planet do, I think."
"Maybe that's because men are only one-third of the population here. Have you ever wondered why the imbalance?" Luvina asked, her words curious but edged with an amused smirk.
Their conversation came to an abrupt halt as Luvina's amused smirk faded when her gaze landed on Taurus, the air around him heavy with restrained fury. She cocked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in amusement.
"Oh, look, we've got company," she murmured, a sly smile curling her lips.
Azumi followed her gaze and broke into a wide grin.
"Lookie here. This black wing seems to have had a bad morning," she teased, her tone deliberately mocking.
Taurus froze, his jaw tightening as his dark eyes snapped to the two women. "Begone, witch!" he growled, his voice a sharp warning. "Before I rain the same misery you seek."
Azumi didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned slightly forward, her grin widening as she locked eyes with him.
"Then do it, angel," she challenged, her voice dripping with sass and defiance. "Since you're so strong."
The room grew heavy with tension as the two stared each other down. The playful gleam in Azumi's eyes sharpened, becoming something more dangerous, more deliberate. Taurus' breathing grew louder, his shoulders rising and falling as beads of sweat appeared along his temple. His wings flared slightly as the oppressive weight of his mana seeped into the atmosphere, distorting the air with its sheer intensity.
Azumi's playful demeanor shifted subtly, her grin thinning as she called clusters of magitons into her palm. With a whispered command, her wooden staff materialized in her grip, its carved surface humming with latent energy. She lowered her stance, ready for battle, the amusement still lingering faintly in her expression but now tinged with anticipation.
Taurus, unyielding, exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound of a guttural growl. His nostrils flared as he prepared to meet her challenge. The space between them crackled with unspoken promises of violence, their confrontation poised to erupt into chaos.
The air in the Sycamore Tree lounge carried a weight that was almost suffocating. Mana swirled faintly in the atmosphere, its luminescent threads barely visible but ever-present, like whispers of tension in the room. Luvina sat quietly, her expression calm, but her luminous grey eyes darted between the others. She hadn't spoken a word since the conversation began, her lips pressed together in a silent observation. Azumi, ever the provocateur, wore a mischievous smirk that betrayed her intent. She leaned casually on her staff, but her posture was anything but relaxed. Both prepared to strike at any second.
The electric charge of their confrontation was abruptly softened when Luvina felt the soft, warm press of fur against her shin. Her gaze dropped to find a small black cat with a white-tipped tail. Its lemon-colored eyes gleamed in the low light of the lounge, and it stared up at her with an almost knowing expression. The feline's quiet purring filled the space, a soothing undertone to the sticky tension. Luvina bent down and gently stroked the cat's sleek fur, her long fingers brushing over its back in slow, comforting strokes.
Azumi's smirk only widened as Taurus's wings gave a sharp twitch of irritation. The angelic bovine's immense frame loomed under the low-hanging branches, his gold and black armor glinting in the lounge's light. The purring continued, and for a moment, it seemed that the cat's presence might diffuse the situation. Sounds of hurried footsteps became louder as Taurus attempted to suppress his rising frustration.
Then, the door to the lounge slammed open. The hobgoblin Padre Drip burst in, panting, his brawly frame barely containing the panic etched across his face. His disheveled jacket swayed as he dropped to his knees in front of Taurus, completely ignoring the others.
"Lord Taurus!" he cried, his voice high and trembling. "I did as you instructed. Did you kill the Devil of Velonica?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Luvina stopped stroking the cat, her hand hovering mid-air. Azumi's smirk faltered for a split second before she straightened, letting her staff dissolve into glittering magitons that scattered into the air. Both women turned their attention to Padre, their expressions mirroring their shock.
Taurus's entire body went rigid. His Divinity Mana, radiant and fiery, leaked from him in thin wisps, coiling like steam from his shoulders. His glaring eyes locked on Padre with such intensity that the hobgoblin visibly flinched, shrinking further into himself. The tension returned with brutal force, the pressure in the room escalating as if a storm were brewing. Even the cat darted a wary glance at Taurus, its tail flicking nervously.
"Mind your words," Taurus growled, his voice low and gravelly, though it carried the weight of thunder.
His hands flexed at his sides, the gauntlets creaking under the strain of his grip. The boiling hatred emanating from him made the very air feel heavier, and Luvina's breathing quickened as she felt its oppressive heat pressing on her chest.
Taurus inhaled deeply, visibly forcing himself to rein in his emotions. Slowly, the room's crushing atmosphere lifted, and the light surrounding him dimmed. "No," he finally said, his voice steadier but dripping with contempt. "I was instructed to return here before I could finish."
Azumi, always quick to exploit a moment, erupted into laughter. She doubled over, clutching her sides as if Taurus's words were the most amusing thing she'd ever heard. "Wait, wait, you're telling me—" she gasped between chuckles, "the Devil of Velonica kicked your ass? Oh, that's rich." Her laughter echoed through the room, the sound sharp and biting.
Luvina, who had resumed stroking the cat, was less amused. Her sharp mind immediately began piecing things together. "If this is true," she thought, her gaze narrowing on Taurus, "I may have found him. First, I need a little more proof."
She spoke aloud, her tone measured and calm. "Who is the Devil of Velonica? I've heard that nickname before."
Taurus shot her a glare so potent that it might have silenced a lesser being, but Luvina held his gaze without flinching. Azumi answered first, leaning lazily against the wall as if Taurus's rage were no threat at all.
"Someone Orion kept saying not to fuck with," she said, flashing a sly smile. "And I guess I see why now." Her eyes flicked toward Taurus, whose wings ruffled in frustration, releasing another faint cloud of shimmering mana.
"He's some scary strong Oni that lives in the Janell Forest region of Velonica," Azumi continued, speaking now directly to Luvina. "They say he's the future Demon Lord of that country."
"Demon Lords are like this world's version of kings, right?"
Before Azumi could respond, a new presence commanded the room. A hexagonal portal shimmered into existence, its edges glowing with a pure white light that filled the space with an unearthly brilliance. Feathers as radiant as starlight drifted through the air, descending like snowflakes. As the portal rippled, Orion stepped through, his immaculate chocolate-brown suit glowing faintly under the mana crystal lanterns. He adjusted his glasses, his expression serene as always, though his eyes gleamed with an unsettling intensity.
"Demon Lords are so much more than simple royalty," Orion began, his voice smooth and melodic, yet firm enough to command instant attention. "They are Gods to entire nations, often the strongest mana users in their region. They influence societal progress and serve as deities to guide their people into the future."
"Lord Orion!" Padre Drip yelped, scrambling to his feet and bowing low.
Orion ignored the hobgoblin, his gaze sweeping the room as he continued. "But Xiro Mikazuki is beyond any mere Demon Lord. The Devil of Velonica is the primordial void of night. He is the reincarnation of the first Archon and former lover of the Twilight Goddess. He is destruction and creation. The destined High King Supreme. An Abraxas."
His words hung in the air like a spell, captivating everyone.
Luvina's eyes widened slightly, her fingers pausing mid-stroke on the cat's fur again. Her intrigue deepened, and her lips curled into a faint smile as she thought, "I must meet him."
Even Azumi, usually indifferent to Orion's musings, tilted her head with newfound curiosity. But Taurus's expression darkened further, his jaw clenching so tightly it seemed on the verge of snapping.
The Trapper's composure finally cracked. "He also has a Sonata Core," Taurus spat, his voice venomous. "And you knew this, Orion!" His wings flexed out as his mana flared, creating gusts that sent loose feathers flying. "Along with that Xeno-Human, that's five Sonata Cores you have the location of. Why haven't you shared this information with The Elohim?"
Orion turned to him, his icy-blue gaze piercing. "You Third Sphere Principalities have no shame, I see," he replied, his tone as cold as his stare. "While being your supervisor, I was also entrusted by Goddess Laniakea to develop any Sonata Cores discovered into Syns and Vyrtues. I am not required to keep you Lesser Angels informed of all details."
Azumi burst into laughter once again, her mirthful cackling filling the room as she pointed mockingly at Taurus. "Oh, that's priceless," she wheezed.
Even Luvina chuckled softly, her composure unshaken despite the palpable humiliation Taurus radiated.
Orion continued without pause. "The Sonata Cores will be reported to The Elohim when they achieve their Crescendo Prime. Until then, they are only to be watched and documented."
He shifted his gaze away from Taurus, dismissing him entirely. "While I have your attention, Taurus, you are to return Gemini's Vessel Skill when you meet them at your new post."
Taurus blinked, his rage momentarily replaced with confusion. "What do you mean by 'new post?'"
"You will be assisting with the Cultivation Pills at the Babylonia location," Orion said, adjusting his glasses again. "Those Rap Battles are starting to attract impressive M-Cees. Soul Cores perfect for the future rapture."
Orion flicked his wrist, opening another portal, its edges shimmering like crystal. He turned his back to Taurus, a clear dismissal. Azumi waved mockingly, her hand fluttering in exaggerated farewell.
"Bye-bye, Taurus," she sang, her grin devilish.
Taurus's fists clenched, his teeth grinding audibly as his mana flared one last time. He stormed toward the portal, his glare fixed ahead.
"Mark my words," he thought bitterly, his rage a searing fire within. "They all will pay. Especially Orion and that devil."
Without another glance, he stepped through the portal, leaving behind the room filled with lingering tension and the faint sound of Azumi's laughter.
With the hexagonal portal sealed, Luvina shook her head in disbelief, her shimmering white hair shifting like snowfall as she exhaled slowly. The gleam in her eyes betrayed a whirlpool of scheming thoughts beneath her deceptively innocent smile. She let the small black cat leap free from her arms, its sleek fur catching the dim, ambient glow of the Sycamore Tree's enchanted interior. Meanwhile, Padre Drip stood nearby, visibly distressed despite the ostentatious cool he tried to maintain. His heavily jeweled necklace seemed to weigh him down, their usual flair dulled by the anxiety etched into his green, hobgoblin features. He fiddled nervously with his thumbs, his confidence thoroughly eroded.
Azumi stretched languidly, exposing her toned midriff as her emerald hair cascaded down her right eye. The fabric of her titty armor shimmered like morning dew on the grass as she reached her arms high.
"If this Majin has all of you shaking and scared," she said with a sly grin, her tone dripping with playful arrogance, "it makes me want to see him all the more." Her words hung in the air, a deliberate taunt wrapped in her curiosity.
"I cannot tell if you want to fight or fornicate with him," Orion interjected, his voice calm but laced with a subtle, predatory edge that sent a ripple through the room.
His sigh was low and weighted, and the air around him seemed to thrum faintly as if reacting to his presence. Azumi responded with a wink and a smile, her sapphire-blue lips curving mischievously.
"Matters not," Orion continued, his steely blue gaze shifting toward the portal. "The Devil is about to enter a labyrinth and won't be returning to this realm for some time." His voice carried an eerie certainty, each word settling over the group like the first few raindrops of a coming storm.
"More of that 'I-know-the-future' shit," Azumi scoffed, rolling her eyes with a bratty shrug. "I like Trixy's cards more than your book."
At those words, the black cat in the background leaped gracefully onto a plush velvet couch. A ripple of mana surged around its small frame, prismatic waves bending the very air with vibrant colors. The light molded and shifted, expanding into a distinctly feminine form. As the radiant display faded, a bodacious figure emerged. Trixy's hourglass silhouette, painted with tiger-striped patterns, commanded the room. Her full, glossy black lips parted as she exhaled, her eyes gleaming like sharp yellow lemons. Shadow-black deep twisted locks cascaded down her shoulders, pinned delicately at the crown, while a playful bang brushed against her forehead. Cat-like ears sat atop her head as she leaned back, crossing her paw-like feet with a languid grace.
"Tarot is not for seeing the future," she snapped, her voice sultry yet edged with sharp irritation. Her posture was casual, yet her words carried an air of finality. "Possible outcomes, maybe. But tarot cards are best for seeing the bigger picture of your situation and advising you on what to do next."
Azumi chuckled softly, twirling a strand of emerald hair around her finger. "Well, I need to see if he's a good time or not," she said in her usual bratty tone, shrugging.
Luvina tilted her head, her curiosity palpable as her glossy, lavender lips parted. "Can you really predict the future, Lord Orion?" she asked, her voice light yet tinged with skepticism.
"The future is forever shifting, making foresight more difficult the further you look into it," Orion explained, his tone steady but carrying an undertone of subtle menace. "What I spoke on was foretold within the pages of a Bible. Those grimoires hold the knowledge of an Aeon, and thanks to the former Elohim, their spirit data as well."
Azumi frowned slightly, her fingers pausing mid-twirl. "So, a True Deity was giving you a heads-up?" she ventured, trying to connect the dots.
"If that is your understanding," Orion replied, his lips curling into a smile that exuded unnerving satisfaction. "But it is no longer an option, as the book has returned to its rightful owner. I will not be predicting future events anymore. We are entering an age unknown even to The Heavens." His voice deepened, and his smile stretched wider, taking on an almost predatory quality. "We are about to see just how much destruction Omnia's love for the devil will cause."
"I honestly don't understand you angels," Trixy interjected sharply, her eyes narrowing as she focused on him. "Or trust any of you, really. I've heard Taurus mention killing us after this pill operation is over. Even the cards tell me to distance myself from you." Her tone was like a whip crack, her words biting and deliberate.
Orion's expression shifted almost imperceptibly, his previous smile morphing into a feigned look of disappointment. "I'm hurt, Trixy Cat," he said, his voice soft but edged with something cold and unyielding. "Unlike those of the Zodiac Keys, I seek to truly help the humanities of this universe. As well as guiding this world into its utopian future." His piercing gaze met hers from behind his circular frames, the intensity of his stare nearly tangible.
"Speaking of which," he continued smoothly, "how are the next batch of Cultivation Pills coming?"
"Danni is currently stirring the cauldron. They'll be finished before the Cycle Year is over," Luvina answered confidently as she gracefully took a seat beside Trixy.
Azumi chimed in next, her tone nonchalant. "I have those Velonican Wolvens I just captured still en route here. So the girls will have playthings to drain."
"Send a message to the raiders escorting them to split them and take half to Babylonia," Orion ordered, his voice firm yet disturbingly calm. His attention shifted to Padre Drip, who had been shrinking further into the shadows.
"Padre Drip, is it? Meet with those raiders and join them on their travels to Babylonia. You are to help your master when you get there."
"Ye-yee-yes si-s-sir!" Padre stammered, his words barely escaping his lips as he stumbled out of the lounge. The sheer weight of Orion's gaze seemed to press down on him, leaving the hobgoblin trembling and gasping for breath.
The scent of Padre's fear hit Trixy, and she burst into hysterical laughter. "Thralls of the heavens' best are quite pathetic," she said, her voice dripping with mockery.
Her words barely finished when the air in the Sycamore Tree thickened with an oppressive force. A sudden wave of magical pressure crashed down, forcing everyone to their knees. The women in the lounge let out startled cries before being silenced by the sheer weight of the power pressing on them. Heads bowed, their bodies paralyzed, they could not blink or speak. Azumi's lips parted in a strained exhale, a hint of arousal betraying her confusion and discomfort.
Orion's voice cut through the suffocating atmosphere, deadly serious and devoid of his earlier charisma. "Watch your cute little mouth. In the Choir of Angels, those of the Zodiac Keys are from the bottom sphere. Far from heaven's best." His bright blue eyes flared with Divinity Mana, their light blazing like twin suns. "Now, ladies, as I exit, allow me to leave you with this nugget of insight. If you truly want to meet the Devil, then agree to assist The Illuminati when their request comes. But know, you're only setting your destruction in motion."
A portal materialized before him, its shimmering edges glowing with ethereal light. Without a backward glance, Orion stepped through, his low, sinister laugh echoing across the room. As the portal sealed, feathers—ghostly white and glowing faintly—rained down, vanishing the moment they touched the ground.
A few seconds of silence filled the room as the oppressive weight of Orion's divine pressure began to dissipate. The magical force released its grip on the witches, allowing them to finally stir from their immobilized state. The Sycamore Tree's atmosphere, once heavy with an almost tangible vibration of the angel's dominance, lightened into an uneasy stillness. Even as the women regained their composure, the phantom traces of Orion's chilling aura lingered like an unwelcome aftertaste.
"I fucking hate those angels. Eeeewwwhhh."
Azumi growled, brushing off her knees as she rose unsteadily to her feet. Her sharp, defiant tone carried a simmering resentment, her lips curling into a sneer as she spoke. Yet, inside, she felt stimulated by the turn of events. A stern hand had always been an intimate weakness of hers.
Luvina, ever the smooth and composed one, chuckled lightly as she stood and adjusted her hip straps. "Hehehe. I believe you," she said, her voice low and soothing, like a predator lulling its prey. "But we must finish this contract with the Trappers to reach our goal. Stomach them just half a year longer."
Trixy, her tail flicking with irritation, sat cross-legged on the couch, her feline features betraying her unease. "I'm all for killing those bastards," she admitted, her yellow eyes narrowing with tension. "But how do we fight that many powerful beings? The six of us alone cannot defeat them. And let's be honest—the other Panty Raiders are all but useless against warriors of heaven."
Luvina leaned back, her sly smile curving as her eyes glinted with calculated intent. "Why don't we use the Devil of Velonica?" she suggested, her voice a soft murmur of conspiracy. "They seem to be afraid of him, and from what I've gathered, he has the potential to kill them."
Trixy's ears twitched as she tilted her head, a cautious expression overtaking her playful demeanor. "So, you've taken an infatuation with him as well? Why do you think he'd help us?" Her tail's tip wagged lazily, a visible reflection of her skepticism. "We've been raiding villages near his country's borders. I'm sure a future Demon Lord won't be happy to let that continue."
Luvina didn't flinch. Instead, she gave a soft laugh, her gaze unwavering. "The current Demon Lord hasn't done anything to stop us. Isn't he connected to her? Related or something?" She shrugged, her tone dismissive. "Plus, it'll only be until the 2nd Water Cycle of next year. We won't need to take any more of their people after that."
Azumi, standing off to the side, rubbed her chin thoughtfully. Her gaze grew distant for a moment before she spoke. "I was going to search him out anyways," she admitted, her tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and determination. "Something about the stories I've heard makes me want to meet him. I can't explain it." Her lips twitched into a wry grin. "And if I don't like what I see, I'll just kill him."
Trixy's tail snapped once in irritation. "Not if he's as strong as everyone says he is," she retorted. "Well, I'm going to ask the cards about him. Be sure to ask the other witches their input before acting." Her voice softened, but the hesitation remained, an edge of unease cutting through her usual confidence. "But I need to know before I leave—why do you want to meet him, Luvina? You haven't shown this much interest in one man since you joined us. I've been watching you since he was first brought up."
Azumi joined in, pointing at Luvina with an amused smirk. "She's right, Luvina. You're even pulsing."
Luvina blinked, startled, before glancing down at her own body. Trails of Bio Mana radiated softly from her Soul Core, racing in rhythmic pulses across her skin before fading into nothingness. A look of mild surprise crossed her face, followed by a chuckle. She raised her hands in mock surrender.
"Fine, fine," she admitted. "It's personal, but I think he may be the person I was told to find when I got here—if I wanted to get back to my world. I won't know until I talk with him. Plus," she added, her voice dipping into a more conspiratorial tone, "he's another Sonata."
The room grew still as her words sank in. She glanced down, absently touching the Mana Crystal nestled between her breasts. Her fingers brushed against its smooth surface as her gaze turned inward, her expression momentarily lost in a flash of memory. She snapped out of it with a quiet exhale.
Azumi's voice broke the silence. "Awww, you really want to leave? I thought you were having fun here." Her tone held a note of disappointment, her usual teasing undercut by a hint of genuine feeling.
Luvina turned to her with a small, urgent smile. "I'm not sure yet," she replied quickly, shaking her head. "But I don't want to give up the opportunity of having that in my pocket."
Trixy's sharp gaze narrowed on her, a challenge flickering in her eyes. "You think you can get him in your pocket?" she asked pointedly.
Luvina's smirk returned, this time laced with confidence. "He may be some demon, but he's still a male, right? They only ever think with their dicks." Her words dripped with smug certainty.
"I wonder what his mana tastes like," she added with a sinister smile, her voice trailing off into a thoughtful murmur.
Azumi strolled to the expansive wooden windowfront, her steps deliberate and heavy with thought. She drew a deep breath, the sound of it audible in the still room, and her shoulders visibly eased as she exhaled. Her gaze wandered to the ground floor below. Sunlight poured through the thick glass, its warmth stark against the dark, muted tones of the shaded lounge. The sudden brilliance forced her to lift a hand to her face, shielding her narrowed eyes as she squinted at the outside world.
"Hey," Azumi called, her voice cutting through the ambient quiet, "has anyone seen Zawa?" She leaned slightly forward, her hands resting on the wooden frame, her sharp eyes scanning the scene below with casual intensity.
Trixy stretched, her tail lazily swaying behind her as she yawned. "I think she's with her new boy toy," she replied nonchalantly, brushing an invisible speck off her black loincloth. "Some hotshot assassin." The words dripped with sarcasm, her disdain for Zawa's antics evident.
Before the conversation could continue, a sharp knock echoed from the heavy door. The room stilled, the sound drawing everyone's attention. The door creaked open to reveal an imp, her crimson skin gleaming faintly in the dim light. Dressed in bikini armor that seemed more ceremonial than practical, she paused just past the threshold, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Despite her clear urgency, she maintained an air of composure, her golden eyes darting between the witches.
"Ms. Azumi, Ms. Luvina, Ms. Trixy," the imp began, her voice taut with a barely concealed edge. "A messenger from the Illuminati has arrived. He is seeking a meeting with you all."
The atmosphere shifted immediately. Silence fell, so thick it seemed to seep into the walls. The imp, initially confused by their lack of response, glanced nervously at each of them. But the witches weren't silent from shock or fear; they were all lost in the same flashback—Orion's words. His prophecy about this moment unfolded in their minds with startling clarity.
A slow, wicked smile crept across Luvina's face, her expression one of satisfied cunning. "Looks like Orion was right again," she murmured, her tone a mix of amusement and intrigue. Her voice carried a dark excitement, her eyes gleaming at the turn of events.
Azumi clapped her hands together, the sound breaking the tension as she turned on her heel with a spring in her step. "I'll get Danni and Kiranna," she said brightly, practically bouncing toward the exit. Her excitement was palpable, the prospect of chaos clearly energizing her. "Things are getting exciting again," she added with a playful lilt before disappearing into the corridor.
Trixy, however, remained motionless, her expression betraying no trace of Azumi's enthusiasm. Instead, the faintest twitch of her tail betrayed the unease gnawing at her. A tingle of danger pricked at her senses, crawling under her skin like an itch she couldn't reach. If Orion was right about this, then he might also be right about their looming destruction. The thought hung in her mind like a weight, one she couldn't easily dismiss.
"Oh," the imp interjected, her voice breaking the silence again. "The body of a small human boy was found mauled near the entrance. Appears a watcher found him before us." She added the detail almost as an afterthought, punctuating it with a casual burp of remembrance.
Trixy sighed, the sound filled with disappointment rather than grief. She dragged a hand down her face, wiping away any visible reaction to the grim news. Whatever flicker of emotion the report stirred within her vanished almost immediately, replaced with cold indifference.
Luvina, reclining lazily against the wall, waved a dismissive hand without so much as a glance in the imp's direction. "Feed it to the slaves," she ordered, her voice dripping with apathy. "Maybe he'll make a decent stew for them. And send up the messenger."
The imp nodded briskly. "Yes, ma'am," she barked before scurrying out of the room, her armored footsteps fading into the distance.
As the door closed behind her, the room remained still. Each witch seemed lost in her own thoughts. Trixy's unease lingered, a shadow over her mood, while Luvina's anticipation brimmed beneath her composed exterior. Somewhere beyond their immediate world, unseen forces began shifting into place.
It was clear to me, recounting this moment, that big players were beginning to make their moves. And me? A nigga was none-the-wiser at the time. It was as if the Cycle Year of 1999 marked the genesis of a new era, one filled with change, danger, and unrelenting momentum. Little did I know, the Devil of Velonica was steadily becoming the center of it all.
[End of Chapter]
[1] November on Earth
[2] 3001ft.