Cinia Pacifica Posts

“Good work.”

Aramus looked around. He couldn’t find Elizabeth nor Nicholas.

An ancient land stretched infinitely before him. It reminded him of the few portraits and images of Roman architecture he had seen in his life. Except everything was glowing with a luster of gold. There was shining dust floating everywhere. The sky too, was a shade of yellow. He had come to a world that was clearly not his home.

The Magic Magister turned.

There she was—clad in a vividly crimson and extravagant dress. Her blonde hair flowed all the way past her back. It almost seemed like it adorned her head like a crown. She wore a tiara. Unlike a certain sister, this was worn with absolute legitimacy.

She was his benefactor.

She was his beloved.

She was his Queen.

Aramus Valmark had once again noted that his golden earring was brightly shimmering.

“Congratulations. You have finally won back the Laevateinn, Sir Valmark. I am proud.”

“My Queen!” Aramus exclaimed, immediately dropping to a knee. “Though I managed the feat, I am saddened to say it is not without external help. Not on my power alone.”

“I am aware,” the Queen said with a knowing smile unlike her usual ones. It seemed to be mixed with a faint bit of mischief. “I was watching. All of it.”

“All of it!?” Aramus exclaimed, looking up at her from where he kneeled. “Even the… the…” He couldn’t bear to finish the sentence, feeling absolutely morbid that she had been watching everything including what occurred in the trials.

Aramus could hear the Queen clear her throat as she turned away. “...Anyway, we shall prepare a visit to King Solomon soon. I’d like to find closure to this business.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Sweat was rolling down his temple and Aramus panicked, answering her on reflex. Oh god, if she had seen that then… She cleared her throat, she only does that when… I’m doooooomed.

However, looking back to Aramus, the Queen felt rather guilty. “Oh my, you may calm yourself. I...I-It is certainly not the first time a gentleman has possessed… ahem, unique imaginations of me? I do not quite mind, and am used to these occurrences.”

His train of thought proceeded to freeze momentarily at her words before speeding up and derailing, a million thoughts racing around. Before this, his brain had probably never been so active before. Coherent speech was manageable but just barely.

“You don’t mind… You don’t mind? But, I. Ahh… Hah. So there’s hope?” he said, questioning himself as much as the Queen.

“Well, anyone would admire a pretty flower, yes? It is perfectly normal for lecherous men to think all kinds of things. Again, I am used to it.” Contrary to Aramus’ questions and mutterings, the Queen seemed to have continued from her previous sentence.

“L-lecherous. I suppose this is true,” Aramus said, looking very hollow all of a sudden. “It would be beyond me to aspire for anything further right now. Just those thoughts and dreams will suffice…”

“Oh? You don’t wish to see the real me and would rather indulge delusions?”

“Of course I wish to see the real you!” Aramus blurted before he could stop himself, bringing a hand to his mouth a moment too late as he expressed his real thoughts.

The Queen laughed. “You take a jest too far, Sir Valmark.”

“M-My apologies,” he quickly muttered, looking away from her as the shame burned his face.

In the divine land they stood upon, the Queen felt no pressure from the society or the likes. She freely laughed and jested as she pleased. Feeling no chains from humanity whatsoever, she teased the Magister. All good things must come to an end, however.

“Is seeing all you really wish to do?” the Queen murmured inaudibly with a look of melancholy as she gazed at the sky. “It seems like you have been granted my old armor. Hades is a little too kind at times like these.”

“Your set of armor, Your Majesty? Hades had mentioned you passing it on to him but I’d never imagined… Still, without Hades’ aid, I would have perished when Asteria had struck me,” Aramus said as he put a hand to his chest. “With this, I will be able to do more so that I can one day call myself worthy of you.”

“Worthy of me?”

“What you saw during the trial was not a mere delusion of mine. If I can, I would make it a reality. To be able to stand at your side as not just a Magister but… something else. Though a man like me shouldn’t be saying this, I can’t help but have such a wish.” Aramus squared himself off and answered her. Perhaps he had run his mouth a little too much but now he feared what she would say next.

“You are being a little too greedy,” the Queen remarked with a painfully forced smile. “Stop.” The Queen then looked behind Aramus.

At the same time, Aramus turned to find several blades just a few inches behind his back being held by angels.

“I bid you all to take leave.”

“But your Majesty…!!”

“He wants to defile your purity!”

The angels pleaded. Their voices sounded like echoes.

Aramus for the first time had peered upon angels so up-close. They were pristine and perfectly beautiful, more than any sculptures could be—not as much as the Queen, of course—but perhaps close. Their bodies were radiant and their eyes shone as such that their pupils were not visible. Rather, it was too bright for Aramus to figure out. A woman and two men stood behind him apparently, wanting to slay him for his bold statement.

“What purity?” the Queen smiled, making the inquiry.

The angels vanished without a trace from hearing this question. They looked frustrated.

“Even here they disapprove,” Aramus murmured sadly. “Perhaps I should not have voiced it.”

“Shall we get going?”

“Of course, My Queen,” Aramus said, rising from his position.

The Royal Queen of Britain gave a nod, and the angels materialized behind them. The angels then sung in unison. A choir it seemed. With each note, latin alphabets seemed to form and assemble in a circle. After about a minute this beautiful and sonorous singing ended, and the circle hovering in the air vertically was complete, revealing a white portal.

The Queen and Aramus then stepped inside.

“It had been a day already,” Nicholas started, walking forward to face Asteria. He looked down at the gigantic hole on the ground where Asteria had punched Aramus so hard that he was sent straight down below the room. It was a pitiful yet magnificent sight back then. “He has not come back yet.”

“He is still alive… right?” Elizabeth voiced her concern, but she remained behind the railing and didn’t step down onto the plains.

“No, he lives still.” Asteria’s voice echoed from her telescope. “Besides, a day has not yet passed from our standards.”

“Even so, I implore you to accept my challenge,” Nicholas urged.

“I refuse. Until the previous challenger comes back and the battle is concluded, I shall not face anyone else.”

At this moment there was a strong noise of rumbling. The chamber quivered from an unknown energy.

“...Hades?” Asteria grumbled.

A sphere of red burst out from the hole via which Aramus was sent down a day ago. Within this sphere was Aramus—barely conscious. The oval shaped barrier that transported him all the way up to this chamber finally cracked and the Magister fell down on solid scarlet ground.

“Teacher!” Elizabeth shouted. “I… I am so glad to know you’re safe.”

Her eyes were slightly teary and it seemed like she had been extremely worried all along. On the other hand, Nicholas simply gave a nod to affirm Asteria’s claims and walked back to Elizabeth. Since Aramus was back, he’d have no reason to attempt to face the stargazer.

“Sorry to worry you.” Aramus sent a smile Elizabeth’s way, still feeling slightly woozy from the trip. Hades sure had a way with his spells.

“Go finish what you started,” Nicholas stated, smiling. “We’re tired of waiting.”

“The peanut gallery will get some snacks after this since I was delayed.” Aramus chuckled as he sallied forth, coming to a stop some distance away from Asteria. Well, far enough that she couldn’t repeat the pummeling from before.

“I see you have returned.” Asteria got up from her chair from behind her telescope.

The plains surrounding Aramus and the Queen of the Underworld had recovered mysteriously. There were no signs of the scorching heat nor were there any craters of fallen stars.

Asteria walked forward to approach Aramus as if in expectation.

“Shall we resume?”

“I suppose. Wouldn’t want to leave without giving them a good showing,” Aramus said as he indicated behind his back, looking awkwardly at Asteria as he apologised. “Sorry about the… face, I didn’t mean to. That spell isn’t exactly perfect.”

“Well, I also overreacted. We were both at fault.”

Unlike Aramus, Asteria was more baffled that a person would even employ an incomplete magic, but she didn’t voice such opinions. Over time her opinions had already changed.

“Come, that which is locked by nine locks and nine runes. By my solemnity and grace—I call upon thine form—Laevateinn!”

The chains that held down Laevateinn in the middle of the field burned away, up to the very corners—up to the walls—to which they existed. The sword flew up from the ground and flipped over to the hand of Asteria. As Asteria was about thrice the size of ordinary adult human beings, this sword only appeared to be about half her height.

“So the real fight starts now then,” Aramus muttered as he sized her up. Even if the sword was only half her size, it was more than large enough to cleave him in two. Not to mention dodging it would be a feat in and of itself.

A short incantation and an orb of wind was sent her way, this time hitting her in the gut as Aramus was mindful of her face. The spell fizzled as it hit her, the secondary burst not occurring even as it forced Asteria to take a step back.

Asteria cringed, noting the usage of the incomplete spell again as she shrugged it off. She held out her sword and straightened her arm, and traced it from the bottom to the starry sky clockwise. She then sliced the air, and black winds rampaged across the chamber abruptly.

Aramus took the brunt of this air firsthand, being rolled across the field for some time. When he finally got up, his skin were burnt off not from heat but from extreme coldness. The coldness of the wind was the coldness of death. However, he could feel his armor warding something even more perilous.

Silently thanking Hades for the relic, Aramus let loose a strong lightning bolt at Asteria. Cutting through the wind like a blade, the spell surged as it hit Asteria but it only left her smoking and looking more irritated with him.

Asteria raised her Laevateinn up towards the stars again.

The starry sky beyond the window was covered in absolute blackness, and ancient runes manifested all across the room. Aramus frowned as the phenomenon occurred. Whatever Asteria had planned definitely did not bode well for him judging from her brief but painful track record. Charging himself with magic energy through the vis, Aramus began to sprint towards her even as his form began to distort and change into lightning. The electricity crackled across his limbs as he completed the spell and streaked towards Asteria.

She didn’t seem to attempt to dodge or block his spell, not moving from her position as the magical energy burned through every inch of her body. Taking the chance, Aramus struck in a flurry of crackling electricity as he slammed into her repeatedly as Asteria tolerated the sparks running across her body.

As lightning, he didn’t know how his face even appeared, but he could imagine himself cringing. For Aramus was starting to feel piercing pain in his brain, the strain from using Thor’s Might was starting to catch up to him. However, he kept going even then. Most of his vis was depleted and it was a gamble at this point.

From his last strike, the crackling thunder finally broke her concentration and stance, making Asteria’s sword move away from the position it was supposed to be held in. There was a strange noise as though a bell was rang.

This ringing bell noise continued as strong pressure dominated the field. Even as lightning, Aramus could feel his lightning and magic being chipped away. He was sure that this strange feeling was in fact the feeling of pain as lightning due to the extreme discomfort.

A black wind seemed to be surrounding Asteria. Despite noting this, Aramus struck at her again, making her wail. The black wind then got stuck along with his lightning. It felt like an air of disease. Something that would spread plague. However, he carried on regardless. Arcing across her surroundings, he gained momentum before finally hitting at her with everything he had.

A large explosion soon followed and the lightning burst forth in all directions, piercing through the runes and the darkness formed by the sword and runes.

Subsequently, the runes vanished and Asteria dropped the sword before falling down with her face up.

Aramus turned back to human form, but he found himself laying right over her…

“That is a rather bold move for a man…” Asteria dryly commented. The man atop her only covered her upper torso barely since he was but a small being to her.

“Apologies, I didn’t intend for this to happen,” Aramus murmured as he tried to pull himself off her. The spell had cost him and it made his entire body feel sluggish. Accompanied with the mind numbing pain, he would’ve just continued to lay on top of her, but manners dictated otherwise.

“I don’t care anymore. Just take my sword—it is yours now.” Asteria gave Laevateinn a single glance before turning back to Aramus. “Take it and leave, I doubt you’d seek anything more from me.”


“Alright,” Aramus said as he slowly made his way over to the sword but offered Asteria a short glance. “What will you do now?”

“What I always do.”

“I see. I might be in the neighbourhood from time to time. Mind if I drop by? I might bring some things for you to entertain yourself with,” Aramus muttered as he walked around Laevateinn, trying to find a way to pick it up.

“...Why would you visit an old lady? Go have fun with your young maiden acquaintances.”

Asteria eventually stood up, and it appeared as though the lightning and every wound dealt to her barely amounted to anything significant. As expected of a Queen of the Underworld.

“I need to pop in for other reasons,” Aramus said, pointing down below where he had risen up from. “Since I’ll be in the neighbourhood already, why not?” He placed both hands on the hilt of the sword, grunting from the exertion of lifting it up.

“Because you’re a pain to deal with.” Asteria started walking towards her telescope. “All other visitors are, too.”

“If you put it that way then alright,” Aramus all but breathed as he struggled from the weight of the sword. Physical prowess had never been his thing and it showed. “I’ll just, huff, drop off a package or something.”

“How awfully persistent.” With this comment the Goddess was back to stargazing already.

“See you around sometime, I’ll bring you something nice,” Aramus finished as he dragged the sword back to his compatriots, pausing every now and then for a breather.

“You did it, teacher!” Elizabeth exclaimed as Aramus approached them at the large and tall gate.

“Congratulations. I honestly thought you’d not win this one, but I was proven wrong,” Nicholas admitted from beside Elizabeth.

“I couldn’t have done it without help,” he said as he looked back at Asteria’s figure. Perhaps without the sword, those demons would leave her alone. “If I didn’t, well that hole would’ve been the last you saw of me.”

“Help, you say?” Elizabeth question with a tilt of her head. “How did you even get back up from there? It seemed to go on endlessly… ”

“First, there was Solomon. Then, there was Thor. Now, it’s Hades,” Aramus said with a sagely nod of his head.

“That is… quite an adventure,” Nicholas commented.

“Indeed.” At this point, Elizabeth wasn’t even sure if Aramus had the devil’s luck or the extreme misfortune of being caught up in so many troublesome things.

“Now I just need to drag this back to Solomon and everything’ll be right as rain. Now if only it weren’t so heavy,” Aramus bemoaned.

“I see. Well, for starters, let us go back to our world. I do not think it’d be wise for us to stay any longer.” Despite his words, Nicholas noted that neither Aramus nor Elizabeth were suffering from overstaying in the Infernal Realm so far. Perhaps they were really tough and talented people.

“You bet. A round on me once we do,” Aramus agreed, wiping the sweat off his brow. He was extremely thankful for the invisible armor, even though it looked like it hadn’t activated in the previous fight.

“Well, seeing that earring I am going to guess that it’s Hades’ gift. That can lead us straight back home,” Nicholas stated.

“Oh, ok then. Beats travelling back across that sea of magma any day. It would be impossible with this,” Aramus added with a tilt of his head at the giant sword.

“What are you talking about? That earring summons forth hellfire.”

“Oh,” Aramus commented dryly, suddenly not too enthusiastic about the idea.

“Well, at least I won’t have to summon a sword to open a gateway again, I suppose… ” Somehow, Elizabeth wasn’t very enthusiastic of the idea either. She felt her usefulness drop by a landslide.

“Well here goes,” Aramus said as he directed the remainder of his vis energy into the earring. The same fire that Elizabeth had called out with her sword burst forth into existence before the three of them, flickering from time to time. “Shall we? Would’ve liked to say bye to Sasha before we left.”

“You’ll see her, considering you intend to come back,” Nicholas said in a knowing tone as he entered the hellfire.

“Really, fostering such a relation with a devil…” Elizabeth shook her head before leaving the Realm.

Before Aramus left, he heard a voice from behind.

“Say, do the stars in the human world look pretty?”

“Of course. You can see the shine of every star, provided you look hard enough.” With that, Aramus hopped into the hellfire, the all-too-familiar pain burning him again as he travelled through.

For a long time Aramus could only continue to fall.

At some point, it was simply strange as he kept falling. Just how far above had they gone to face Asteria? Just how far down would he go? Was there going to be that bonfire at the end of the trip? But wouldn’t he have reached it by now?

All kinds of questions swirled across his mind.

He didn’t know how much time had elapsed, but when he finally regained his consciousness, Aramus was floating in front of an impossibly large figure. Aramus’ body was surrounded by hues of red and some of his injuries were healed.

“I shall ask, mortal, would you perchance offer me details of your world?”

A voice echoed.

As Aramus’ view cleared, he witnessed someone who seemed almost as large as King Solomon, or even bigger. He sat on his throne wearing what seemed like a spartan helm, and his face was black with shadows so Aramus couldn’t make out the facial details.

All he could see were the red gleaming eyes.

In one hand the King held a staff, and with another he petted a creature comparable to a dog with three heads. The creature growled at the sight of Aramus.

Another one? Aramus thought, blinking his eyes to clear his mind and vision. Noting what was happening to him, he offered up a wry smile to the large figure.

“For what you’re doing to me, how could I refuse? Ask away.”

“Many makes contracts with me, but I cannot seem to confirm many of their deeds, you see.” The voice was that of an older man. The King was likely very old. “Have you perchance heard of anything about this person called… ah, what was it?”

A strange bird flew up to the King’s ears and seemed to whisper.

“Ah, yes. The †˜Countess.’ Have you heard anything about her, lad?”

“Ah, the †˜Countess?’ What would you like to know?” Aramus said as he floated around.

“Anything would be acceptable. We’ll simply have to see if anything you know was something I knew or not.”

“I’ll just say what I know from the beginning then. She’s one of the Descendants. I’m not exactly sure from when, but we are on opposing sides. I have met her once on occasion but have not dabbled too deeply in affairs pertaining to her. My sister happens to be associated with her however,” Aramus said bitterly.

“Hm, interesting.” The King listened and even if one would assume him to be a King of All Demons, he appeared very composed and even somewhat friendly to an extent. “Pray tell me about this meeting of yours with her.”

“The one time we did meet was after a battle among fellow Descendants. My liege, Her Majesty Queen Victoria, was attacked by one of her men prior to that fight,” Aramus said, the vampire attack vivid in his memory. “The Countess came close to blows with my Queen but ultimately left us be. She does plan to remove the rest of the Descendants from the world but I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“So she continues to pursue that foolish dream left by her father,” the King said. He shook his head as if in pity. “I believe Queen Victoria was the Leo? To think the Saint of Summer yet lives.”

“Saint of Summer…? Yes, my Queen is still strong,” Aramus said, storing that tiny tidbit of information. “I am not entirely sure what the Countess seeks to achieve by earning the ire of the Descendants, but she is not limited to them. She does plague the magic and mundane world from time to time with her activities.”

“Haha, playing around with the mortals. She has not changed. Despite how she acts,” the King spoke as if telling a child a small secret. “She likes those mortals. Just doesn’t admit it, the Descendants are mostly a stubborn bunch.”

“Even so, I wish she would not involve the masses in her activities,” Aramus said, frowning a little. “Though I would agree with you on how Descendants are stubborn. My Queen still refuses to take a breather even though I keep raising the point. It’s vexing to see the one you serve work relentlessly,” he huffed, the frown on his face changing to one of dissatisfaction.

“There is no way for her to ignore the masses if she loves them so dearly,” the King remarked with a hearty laughter. “Ah, I see the Saint has not changed a single bit. From leading the Equestrians to being revered as a Saint in the Holy Empire of Rome… well, you cannot really bend that iron-forged will of sovereignty in a day, especially when it was made over at least two millennia. I can sympathize, if anything.”

“A man can try,” Aramus said, trying hard not to pout as he was made to feel like a child. “Someday, I will get her to take a break.”

“Good luck with that. If she retains some of her old nature, though, she might put a blade past your tiny neck for getting in her way.”

“I-I’m getting there,” Aramus said before coughing into his hand, trying to change the subject. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”

“Ah, right. We almost drifted from the topic. My bad. I wanted to hear more about that †˜sister’ of yours, and her relation to the Countess.”

“My sister is not blood-related. We were from the same orphanage but… she is currently the Representative of the Countess. Last I saw her was during the same incident with the Countess and the other Descendants. She tried to suck the blood of Her Majesty. As her retainer, my Queen comes first and foremost.” Aramus looked sad as he divulged this to the King. Since it was a meeting that probably wouldn’t happen again or with anyone else, it was probably safe to let his feelings be known.

“There is surely quite a lot of focus on your interactions by destiny. Perhaps there is a meaning in all of this. Regardless, it seems like your sister has chosen a side that is not yours, and I can only provide condolences for the tragedies to come. A Representative of the Countess, though? I honestly didn't think she’d make another one. Regardless, let it be known that both of you have joined two sides that have warred each other for more than a thousand years.”

“I can never seem to get a break,” Aramus said, scoffing and shaking his head in distress. “Just a guy trying to do his job, earn enough to eat, but I’m caught up in affairs that are way over my head. Still, given a choice, I would not have wished to raise arms against my sister. A shame.”

“If you want a break, why not simply ask for it? Better yet, you could simply look for a new job.” The King, however, smiled as he suggested it. He wasn’t serious at all. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

“No, I would never. As much trouble it would bring upon me, I can’t think of leaving the service of Her Majesty,” Aramus said with conviction.

“That I was already aware of. Your loyalty was obvious from your words. There are always people gifted to the sides of Victoria and the Countess whose allegiance are exemplary. Maybe obedient to a fault. May I trouble you to ask what else you know of the Countess?”

“You give me too much credit, o King,” Aramus said before trying to rack up anything else on the Countess. “More recently, she was involved in an incident at the Academy I teach at. I was not on the scene at the time, but she and one of my fellow teachers got into an altercation.”

“Hunting as usual. That said, ever hear anything about the other Descendants?”

Aramus scratched the back of his head as he thought. For some reason it itched. “I’ve met a good number of them, maybe half or so of the twelve?”

“Haha! That is impossible to envy for any ordinary humans, but I’d be very eager to hear the stories you have of them.”

“Like I mentioned, more trouble than it’s worth. Most times I find myself scrambling for cover than actually fighting, but some of them are open for conversation. It is quite intriguing to speak to them. Let’s see, even as we speak, Virgo intends to destroy the world beginning with America,” Aramus said, raising a finger as he counted. “She almost killed me too.

“I have Sagittarius as a student but we have fought before. That ended with a lot of broken bones on my part. I owe Pisces a debt that I can never really got to repay for her aid in a matter, and then there’s Gemini.” Aramus narrowed his eyes as he vexingly breathed out the name. “Gemini.”

“And what of Gemini? I cannot tell if the one I knew ever died or not, but I have certainly heard of that one man who always had an extremely large harem of his own.”

“That’s the one.” Aramus shivered in disgust as he remembered the millions of zombie women clutching at his robe, his precious robe, dirtying it with their filth. “A troublesome foe, he wields the same element I do. That is one Descendant I wouldn’t mind fighting, if only to safeguard my Queen from his… hobby.”

“You know… I heard a confession once from Victoria that she… engaged in various †˜activities’ with Gemini. In a way, you kind of can’t protect her. Fate sure is a sad and cruel thing, mn?”

“That it is, King. It is still in me to struggle against it,” Aramus said through clenched teeth. He now felt an even greater desire to cave Hynek’s face inwards. “That will not change how I feel about Gemini at all.”

“See? Loyal to a fault. Ahem. Considering how she was, this was perhaps unavoidable. A long time ago, your liege came down to my throne to exchange information. I must say, it was a very beneficial visit.”

“And now I am in the same position. My apologies for not being able to provide as much as the one I serve.”

“Well, I do not think you were done speaking of other Descendants, were you?”

“I only have rudimentary knowledge of those I haven’t met and even then… it’s not much,” Aramus continued. “The Oracle is another… her name speaks for itself. As well as the Thunder Emperor,” he added as an afterthought, nodding.

“I know the Thunder Emperor’s tale and how he was eaten by the Hell’s Gate after fighting your liege and Gemini, but what of Oracle? This is the first time I hear tell of her.”

“She was Libra, a fortune teller and whatever she divined came true. This was only done when requested of her but I guess it was enough to earn the people's ire.”

“...Libra? Really? So did she really die…?” The King sighed and seemed to be in distress for a moment. “I do not sense a lie but I still feel the need that it will require a more proper citation in the future.” The King then seemed to have recovered from his state of disdain after a moment. “Well, all of that side, I guess you’ve told me more than enough. It is only fair that I’d pay you back in regards to your requests and desires. Pray tell—what are the things you’d like from me?”

“Hmm.” Aramus pondered for a moment, thinking of anything that could come to mind. “Great King, would you perchance have access to the relics wielded by the Thunder Emperor?”

“That I do, that I do! But why would you desire the relics so?”

“I require more than what I am able to do now to protect my Queen and country from Virgo, not to mention some protection for myself considering how often I run into Descendants,” Aramus said.

“Ah, I suppose you did mentioned Virgo and her return. That is taking some time to sink into me. I can’t quite believe that she broke her seal. However, relics were made for Descendants to use. Why would you attempt to wield such weapons that weren’t made for the likes of you?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t request such things as they are beyond me. The equipment of Thor is… a special case. I’ve received permission from him to use it, something about being a hero.”

Aramus could hardly see the face of the King, but in the momentary silence, it almost seemed as though he raised his eyebrows.

“You met Thor? Did you perchance experience the state of Twilight?”

Aramus nodded in response, tilting his head slightly as he gave his reply. “Yes King, I was embroiled in a duel with one of your subjects, Asteria, before being sent down here where you graciously healed my wounds. I had to pass through her trials before that and experienced Twilight there. Thor was more amicable than I thought he’d be,” he added with a slight shrug.

“Thor is akin to a harsh father. Especially towards its Descendant who was once called Margaret Alicia. Then I suppose he went and found a new host. As for Asteria… haha, she is a Queen in her own right and is not under me. In truth, Asteria does not hold trials, but her Seven Gates do. I suppose you overstayed the Realm inside those gates. Sloth, I’d wager.”

Aramus looked chagrinned at the King’s words. “I guess there is still much more for me to improve upon if I can get caught by those. I’m still only a human after all. Margaret Alicia… She was the one to do battle with the Countess at the academy but has recently passed on. So she was a Descendant too?”

“Well, you are only a human. You mince words too much. That is a valuable piece of information there, young man… but to think she is gone. Indeed the person was once a man who chose to adopt the appearance of his wife, but I found the action commendable. After Thor left her soul, she came to me for scripts of Supreme Spells.”

“My apologies, King. I did not mean to withhold.”

“Have you perchance considered the idea of becoming your Queen’s Representative if you desire greater power for your goals? Albeit I have never ever heard of her adopting a Representative… I suppose it is an idea nonetheless.”

“It would be overstepping my position as Magister if I asked her… but I do not dislike the idea. For now, I wish to get by without relying on her power if possible. She has aided me too many times for my liking and it’s becoming a bad trend.”

“But is she not showing preference to you by aiding you so many times? I’d think she sees something in me as worthy if she were to continually save me.”


“I do not dislike the attention but you know, as a man, there are only so many times you can be saved by a woman.” Aramus chuckled.

“And she doesn’t mince words,” the King grumbled, and his staff was lifted for only a moment. The Queen could be seen in a round bubble. It showed the time when Victoria had visited the King and conversed with him. Aramus once again offered his apologies before looking at the bubble with great intent.

“The Valhalla? Ah, that is the system developed by Odin. Likewise Zeus constructed the system of Olympia. Then there was the Akashic Records by Izanagi. These are the systems meant to supervise the world and the Valkyries, King Hades.”

Only Victoria’s face was shown, so Aramus could see something like a silver helm of war adorning her golden hair.

The voices of the King and the Queen could be heard through the bubble as it relayed a conversation that took place a long time ago.

“And I assume they are connected to the Mother Tree?”

“Of course.”

“But then…”

“Us Descendants are destined to eventually battle beyond Yggdrasil. That is why—to prolong this fate—I shall lock myself in Britain. I am sure the Countess will play her part well to slay other Descendants to do the same. How productive.” The Queen chuckled in a rather sly manner Aramus could hardly ever imagine.

The bubble burst and vanished, the King dispelled his “example.”

“Well, that’s another side of her I’ve never seen before,” Aramus said candidly. “Thank you for showing this to me.”

“You sound like a man happy to see another side of their lover.”

Aramus’s cheeks flushed a little at Hade’s words, recalling what happened in the trial of lust. “Her Majesty rarely expresses her emotions so casually or at least not that I have seen. It is enjoyable to see another facet of her that is hidden away from the public.”

“I was having a hard time believing that the Queen is completely a benevolent figure now. She was a woman who only considered her own situation in the past.”

“Maybe due to the passage of time. She has no doubt lived a long time, but I do not intend to ask her exactly how long,” Aramus replied. “That would be equivalent to asking her age. What a blunder if I did.”

“Haha! Well, I suppose I could answer her whereabouts but that would have to be an exchange of favor. Anyway, we have had quite the tangent. Are you sure you desire the relics of Thor?”

“If you would be willing, King.” Aramus nodded, looking hopeful. “To ask more would be disrespectful after what you have done for me. This request alone is worth more than what I have provided.”

“I do not think it is a large request. Unfortunately I cannot provide you the entirety of the relic collection of Thor. There are three pieces, namely the hammer, the gloves, and the belt. You’ll have to choose which one you’d like. I was given a request by Margaret Alicia to reserve as much of the relics as possible for the next of Thor’s Descendant who’d likely visit one day.”

Aramus remained pensive on his decision. “If such a request was made and agreed upon, I do not think it right for me to trespass on it. At least, for my last respects to Duchess Margaret as well.”

“It was your own request though. Are you sure?”

“If my own request for power doesn’t conflict with the one the Duchess made, I would have been more than happy. However, in this situation I will have to politely withdraw my request for the relics, o King,” Aramus said, looking as if he had swallowed a bitter pill.

“Then what would you be looking for? I’ve asked quite the amount of questions so it’d be only fair to pay back appropriately. Would you like perhaps a relic or two from me? Or something else? Perhaps you’d be interested in ancient Supreme Spells like Margaret was?”

“I seek the power to protect my Queen, her country and those I hold dear. Be it relic or spell,” Aramus said. “This one selfish request from a simple man.”

“Very well then, let me consider…”

It took quite some time for the King to consider. Few minutes had easily passed.

“Considering the circumstances… there is no better relic than this!”

Dusts of light shrouded Aramus. His form dazzled and shone with a great shine that made him close his eyes instinctively. When he opened his eyelids, his body was clad in armor. One that was invisible, yet it was there at the same time. It was mysterious. He couldn’t really see it, but he could feel it.

Aramus looked down at himself, admiring what was gifted onto him. The special property of the armor also made his mind churn, wondering how the feat was achieved. Better yet, he had a new set of clothing!

“You may have heard of tales of the armor that the Knights of the Church use. Where do you think the idea originated?”

“So it was this very armor that inspired them?”

“Indeed. This is the very first armor that was made invisible to fool the eyes of men in combat. This is the very armor that was once donned by Sigurd. Your liege was the one who gave this to me as price for a request, by the way. How very fitting.”

“Indeed it is,” Aramus replied with a grin, noting the irony. “I wonder how she’ll react when she sees me wearing this, haha. Thank you, great King for granting me this.”

“I do not know, but it can’t be bad. Maybe she’ll be proud of you. Regardless, you are welcome, but I believe you are free to making requests, just nothing too big like just now.”

“This is good, this is good,” Aramus said happily. “Though would you deign to answer another question or two that I may have?”

“Of course, I give you the liberty to ask away.”

“It concerns Virgo. Since we are to do battle with her in the coming days, would you be able to reveal some of her abilities to me? It would aid my comrades and I greatly.”

“I have no promises to conceal them, so I do not mind… but are you sure? Most mortals who learn of the abilities of the Gods and beyond lose their sanity and will to battle after learning of them.”

“If it is to protect the people then I will bear the burden. The fighting will only get fiercer in the days to come. It is best if we had an advantage even if I sacrifice a little.”

“Alright. Allow me to recount the tale where Virgo exhibited her might—because as a bearer of knowledge it is a waste to not speak of them. Virgo was known as the one who conquered most of the world around her. She was renowned for being a ruler so great that she managed to bring most of the countries of Europe together under one banner. It was impressive. Have you heard of the great tale of the Tuatha De Danann?”

“I have only heard it in passing but not in great detail but please, do enlighten me.”

“Humans say that in the Irish mythology, it is the †˜Tribe of the Gods of Dana.’ Among the †˜systems’ Alexandrina Victoria the Royal Queen mentioned—this was the final system created. It was the land upon which Yggdrasil would exist. This land had a city atop it surrounding the great Mother Tree, and the people residing it were the †˜people of Dana.’ Of course, it just so happened that Dana was Virgo herself. A long time ago, this land existed in the human world before it was sealed away along with Dana herself. Basically, it was a result of the war. Virgo had so much to control that it was eventually impossible to keep everything in proper control… and of course, there were those who hated her. Eventually the sons of man sought out an appropriate figure who’d mete out †˜judgement’ to the one who claimed that she’d rule mankind. That’s where your liege comes in, you see.”

“Ah, so that’s what Her Majesty meant when she had to seal away Virgo,” Aramus muttered.

“This was, on the other hand, a crucial moment for your Queen, for she was beginning to find the existence of humans cherishable, and she felt compelled to lend them a hand… even if Dana was an old friend of hers.”

“Her Majesty had mentioned that Virgo was sometimes less than merciful in her rule as well.”

“Well, it was her idea to rule through charisma and fear both. Thanks to this, her supporters and enemies were divided neatly as well. The battle raged for days and nights and your liege fought valiantly. In this battle the Commandment known as World Buster was used. It destroyed an entire part of what man calls Europe.”

“A part of Europe!? Is this what Virgo intends to utilize against us?” Aramus said, astounded. “The amount of lives lost will be…”

“This was her greatest weapon of fear. She indeed possesses traits to judge and punish humanity. Perhaps she is a little too extreme for her own good. Regardless, World Buster and the Divine Curtain—of your Queen—wrecked the surroundings such that the Tuatha De Denann itself took the initiative to warp out of the Realm of the human world to preserve its existence from said fear.”

“The system itself is conscious? Or was it merely constructed in that manner?” Aramus said as he mulled over it.

“It possesses a mechanic that enables it an instinct of survival. The only time this logic of survival will be forgotten is when all Descendants are gathered upon it.”

“Were all the systems mentioned earlier devised the same way?” Aramus muttered to himself.

“Each had their own creators, so no. Anyway, World Buster is an extremely dangerous Commandment that will outright deny the existence of anything tangible in a one-hundred-eighty degree arc based on where she faces. She’d likely not use it immediately in combat due to her haughty nature, but beware of its usage.”

Aramus cringed hard at the mere thought of such a weapon. “I’ll bear this in mind. Is there a condition for it to be activated or downtime of sorts?”

“None. It is simply all-destructive.”

Aramus let a sigh escape his lips. “All the Descendants I face tend to become more and more troublesome.”

“You have been lucky if you ask me. Descendants’ powers are unreasonably destructive, even to the Infernals. This isn’t even the worst she can do.”

“I guess you’re right,” Aramus said with a slow nod. “I am still alive after all. Still, why can’t they have powers that are, you know, good!? Like making it a paradise for people or something. Does it all have to be like this?”

“Oh, Virgo can do that too. Paradise, I mean.”

Aramus raised a finger, ready to comment again but he found that there was nothing. “Yeah, never mind. The Descendants are unreasonable.”

“Perhaps you are right.” The King laughed. “The Chaos Utopia is a Commandment that manipulates uncertainty itself. This means that all of the bad possibilities for the user will be halted regardless of logic and reality.”

“That is far too convenient, but if Virgo had that, how did Her Majesty win? It’s like your get out of jail card except… anytime and anyplace.”

“Who said your Queen won? She never did to begin with.”

“She succeeding in sealing Virgo away, did she not?”

“That is no victory that sings the praise of Victoria. That was a mere trickery employed to escape the outcome of the battle. Chaos Utopia was impossible for Victoria to triumph over back then.”

“We will have to find ways around that troublesome ability then. It’s not possible for us to take it head on?”

“It is probably impossible to take on. Your Queen may have prepared appropriately, for Virgo will not utilize this Commandment unless she is truly facing harm. You should prioritize ending her life before this Commandment is invoked. Otherwise, watch as humanity is wrapped in a kind of paradise they wouldn’t expect.”

“I understand. Basically the gist is to kill her before she can react. Man, that’s a tall order.”

“It’d probably fail if humans try, but what if Victoria negotiates with other Descendants? I feel like this is how your Queen will think about it.”

“We have other Descendants on our side but who knows if Virgo has her own set of allies.”

“It’d be foolish even for Virgo to fight a war alone. I doubt she is coming alone.”

“After what Her Majesty had done, I don’t think she’ll let history repeat itself. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Where is this battle taking place anyway?”

“Virgo had declared it to take place in America so the bulk of our forces are en route or already there.”

“I see. Then Virgo must have realized your Queen’s greatest weakness and acted upon it.”

“Weakness,” Aramus said with a frown, not exactly taking to the comment. “She cannot leave England?”

“Exactly. She will not leave England no matter what, even if it means someone is trying to destroy the world. That is how strong her resolution is. There is only one item capable of summoning Victoria, and I do not know where it is now.”

“I see… Well, I guess it’s up to us to do the impossible.”

“When Chaos Utopia reaches its apex, a new Tuatha De Denann will be born. I do not know what this exactly does aside from ensnaring humans in illusions, but I think you wouldn’t want such an abomination to form.”

“Most definitely not. So she either deletes us from existence or turns us into thralls for all eternity, both are wonderful options,” Aramus said as he threw his hands in the air.

“There are two other Commandments I have seen in action. One is the Siren’s Prayers, which summons spirits from the Faerie Realm to bolster her spiritual powers, and the other is the Maiden’s Curtain—which creates an impenetrable barrier. I call it impenetrable, but there is one way to break it—have a pure-hearted woman attack it with whatever they got.”

“I suppose this rounds out her powers?” Aramus said, looking even more tired at the mention of the latest two.

“There should be nine more, the Queen may know a few more, but I have not seen all of their battle so I doubt anyone knows what they can do… so, good luck, I suppose?”

If there had been a tangible floor instead of him floating, Aramus would’ve just collapsed to his knees. “I think we’ll need more than luck for this, but thank you for the sentiment. If I survive, perhaps I’ll come visit again.”

“Sure. Feel free to update me on the details and perhaps I’ll provide you something nice again. Haha!”

“I’ll need to find a way to get †˜here’ though,” Aramus said as he gestured to what was around him. “But yeah, I think you’ll be happy to hear some new war stories and keep yourself updated. Maybe we could swap again some time. It would be a different viewpoint from those of the Descendents anyway.”

“Hm, perhaps I shall lend you this for a matching pair to be formed,” the King said, flicking a finger towards Aramus. Over his right palm a scarlet earring formed. “Use it to come back here any time. Feel free to share the news.”

“My thanks again, great King,” Aramus offered as he looked at the accessory in his palm.

“We haven’t shared our names yet, have we? I am Hades. What about you?”

“Magic Magister Aramus Valmark, Lord Hades. It has been a great pleasure meeting and conversing with you,” Aramus said as he bowed, if one could in mid air.

“I shall remember your name. Any last words before I send you back up to Asteria’s chamber?”

“I’d like to ask about Sasha actually. She’s one of your subjects this time?”

“Umm… let’s see; she is old, but isn’t very old. I cannot say I remember her exactly. One of my subject’s daughter, I suppose?”

“Alright. I’m probably going to get into a lot of trouble for this later but I’d like to find a way to bring her out. She saved my skin just a moment ago in the trials. The least I could do is return the favor and save her from a life of boredom. She does always have this bored look on her face.”

“Hm…” Hades considered for some seconds. “While that sounds like a good idea, I do not think it’d be wise. You should reconsider this. If there is anything that can take away her boredom, it’d be having human souls for dinner.”

“Geh. I guess I’ll find some other way to pay her back then. Thanks for your time, King Hades.”

“Alright. Up you go, son of man, Einherjar of the Queen.”

With a swoosh Aramus’ body began to elevate. Going upwards, he was being sent all the way up from where he came down—to Asteria’s room.

The air was hot and dry. Aramus clearly felt it and grumbled at having to return to this warm climate. He was undoubtedly back to the Infernal Realm in full. Back in the trials, his presence hardly existed in the Infernal Realms as the gates had their own small realm to test the passersby.

Elizabeth and Nicholas seemed to be standing in front of him speaking with each other.

“Figures I would be the last one,” Aramus mumbled in dissatisfaction as he approached the pair.

“Ah, teacher, you’re finally out!” Elizabeth said, running over to Aramus.

“You guys were both late,” Nicholas walked over too.

“F-Finally.” Aramus recoiled slightly from Elizabeth as some of the bad memories washed over him. It lasted a moment before he managed to quash it.

Elizabeth also seemed to have looked away for a moment for some reason.

“It seems like you are alright, at least,” Elizabeth said, some bits of her clothes appeared tattered on the other hand.

“I feel something strange happened in there. Got some neat tricks too. Not entirely sure how,” Aramus said, coughing into his palm to regain some composure.

“You feel? You don’t remember?” Elizabeth asked.

“I remember, it’s just… kinda hard to explain. Like a sudden understanding when I look at spells, how it works and what not,” Aramus remarked, thinking of how to explain it.

“...Exactly how long did you stay inside?” Nicholas questioned. “Your scholar here almost caught Twilight. You seemed to stay longer…”

“Ahaha, I actually got this ability after Twilight.” Laughing nervously, Aramus took a step away from Nicholas.

“So, you’re saying you’re now good at remembering magical matters?” Nicholas inquired, taking a step forward as he stared at Aramus intently.

“S-Somewhat. I learned a thing or two during my time in there,” Aramus said, not exactly liking how Nicholas was coming onto him.

“Try picturing some magical text. It should come to you like you’ve seen them thousands of times if my guess is right.”

Aramus thought back to Thor’s Might, how the words seemed to come naturally to him despite knowing nothing. “Well, it’s like my body knows how to use it. The text is all gibberish to me.”

“Probably Magic Memory. Twilight is a mysterious phenomena so I can only imagine what you saw before learning it,” Nicholas stated.

“I met Thor. The dude was cool. He even said I could find some of his stuff here,” Aramus said, calming down once Nicholas stopped advancing towards him.

“You met a live deity that no one has ever found before?” Nicholas raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “That’s just… I don’t even know how to take that.”

“It really does sound… incredible.” Elizabeth nodded beside Nicholas. “The Norse deity was only described in ancient tomes, and only legends were spoken of it that can scarce be found in grimoires of Aurum.”

“The two of you didn’t encounter any of that in your trials?” Aramus said, surprised by his own luck. “We had a short conversation before he gifted me with a spell.”

“I met… people I knew, but I narrowly avoided Twilight. It’s dangerous after all,” Elizabeth replied. “I suppose I gained something too.”

“Well, I had some help from my resident spirits,” Aramus said, cheering up a little despite him getting ensnared in Twilight whilst his student didn’t. “So what now?”

“Spirits?” Before Elizabeth could continue, there was a slight tremor.

“You should know that better than anyone,” Nicholas answered, but then felt the tremor. “Go right ahead,” he stated, gesturing towards the path beside them that lead out straight after the gate. “This is where your fight will take place—for Laevateinn.”

“It seems like the rule states one person can only challenge for the relic sword,” Elizabeth said after Nicholas.

Aramus muttered a few words under his breath about stupid Infernal rules but moved onward, following the only path available to him.

The Magister surveyed the expansive room before him. The rocky walls and floors were all vividly red. On the ceiling were stars behind glass instead of rocks like usual. These stars were much like taken out of portraits drawn by children rather than real stars, evident by their five-pointed edges. It was a strange view.

Before him, there was a small set of steps to walk down to. Beyond said steps was a plain field extending to what seemed like a field enough to cover a soccer field. The field was encircled by a railing as if meant for keeping viewers separated. He could see a blade stabbed into the ground at the center. There were chains holding down this sword that seemed to be about a meter long. The chains seemed to extend all the way to the walls.

On the wall of the other side of Aramus was an extremely large device meant for viewing the stars; a telescope.

As Aramus took steps to approach the sword, he heard an echoing voice:

“Who goes there?”

The voice of a woman was heard. It was the voice of an older woman, and it carried a solemn tone.

“...A human, is it?”

“Correct. I assume you don’t get many of us around here?” Aramus replied as he surveyed the area.

“Not in the past millennium, no,” the voice answered. “Except… ahh, yes. There was a Descendant. However, they do not consider themselves human.”

“Hoh,” Aramus exclaimed in surprise. “So you’ve danced with a Descendant before?”

“Indeed, she sacrificed each of her clothes to pass the Seven Gates. The woman was bold. The host of Ishtar was a tenacious person—the host of Virgo.”

“So did you win?” Aramus asked, feeling somewhat irritated about Virgo.

“She slayed Ereshkigal and saved her fallen knight who had come for the sword in search of power… alas, a victor was never decided—for she walked back out soon after.”

“So she wasn’t interested in the sword then,” Aramus stated, looking a little puzzled.

“It doesn’t suit her elemental alignments, and her knight failed his fight. There was no justification to take the blade.”

“So you took over after Ereshkigal died?”

“I claimed it as my own. I am a stargazer, so it works. So, what about you, son of man?”

“Ah, I’m here for the blade. A certain someone has requested that I bring it back for him,” Aramus said, scratching his head. “It’s not exactly for me to use either, I suppose.”

“King Solomon… how arrogant to want my blade for a petty trial.”

Aramus couldn’t help but give a chagrinned smile. Obviously the sentiment wasn’t lost on him. “You hit the nail on the head. I don’t suppose you’ll just let me take it?”

“Would you give your precious treasure to an ant? How foolish.”

“Here I thought we were being civil,” Aramus said, shaking his head. “Right, then let’s get down to business. We can have the tea and cookies after the fight.”

“Hear your folly, human. Those weapons you people call relics were instruments granted only to the Valkyries of eld—the Descendants. They are not meant for the bugs who crave power. Leave—and you shall be spared of your measly life.”

“The Descendants can do what they want with the relics, I’m not particularly interested. However, one among them has decided to show me a little favor,” Aramus said. “Though the next time I get to see her is after I get that,” he said, pointing at Laevateinn.

“Very well. I, Asteria, shall accept your challenge,” the voice spoke after some seconds, after she couldn’t make sense of Aramus’ response. Probably because his miniscule brain and intelligence couldn’t process her words.

Soon, someone seemed to have walked out from behind the telescope. Her figure that was obscured due to the chains and the long sword now came into view as she stood behind the blade. Asteria’s size was at least three times that of Aramus’. Her attire consisted of a white toga—much like the ancient Greeks—while wearing only a necklace. Unlike the Greeks, however, the garb did not extend past her knees and stopped around her thighs. She also wore a circlet adorned with a star.

Aramus gave a short “hmm” as he sized her up. Things were not looking very good for him. Still, it wouldn’t do to give up without trying, especially when it was his life and honor on the line. With a jolt, a small vortex formed in his right hand, steadily gaining momentum as he prepared to fling it at Asteria. Just as he was about to, the orb fluctuated and burst, sending him flying a short distance backward.

At the same time, Asteria’s spell was cast after her unheard whispers, and Aramus’ previous location was where it was aimed for.

“Ouch, that smarts,” Aramus said as he tapped himself on the head. Using Vis had probably altered his mana control for it to react as such. “Sorry Asteria, I’m experiencing some technical difficulties right now,” he said as he picked himself up.

Adjusting his mana flow to compensate for the extra power from vis, Aramus fielded another sphere and it sped towards Asteria. He hadn’t a clue why she was just standing there but if she was going to, he would be more than happy to oblige her with more spells. Surprisingly, the spell smashed into her face, the explosion obscuring vision as the air burst violently. Aramus cringed.

“...For a bug you are rather inept at dealing with women. I suppose men are all like that, given that it is a battlefield, however…” Asteria grumbled to herself.

She then raised her arms up towards the stars and her lips moved in a speed that was unnatural. A disc of shimmering orange formed. It was flat, appearing to be a glowing portal of unknown origin. Spherical projectiles of flames rained down across the field the next moment.

These raining meteors of fire razed Aramus’ surroundings, and with them falling everywhere, he could hardly turn to a direction to flee to. Hurriedly chanting the first spell that came to mind, a bolt of lightning struck Asteria not a moment later. Turning, Aramus ran for his life. However, a ball of flame landed before him and he ran straight into the explosion. Rolling across the field, he found that it was burning all over the place, smoldering literally.

“Hell finally starts looking the part!” Aramus complained as he avoided another ball of flame, his attire regrettably on fire once again. Jumping from place to place, he began to chant the incantation for Parma Magica. A bit more mindful of his surroundings and Asteria, he attempted to create some distance by leaping away from her. Along his way, he started to feel his skin slowly burning from the extreme heat of the room. Asteria’s spell dramatically raised the level of temperature.

As Aramus distanced away, Asteria prayed again with her arms raised. The five-edged stars—that appeared as if taken out straight from some childish-portrait-like view on the top—shone and soon they started to fall by coming through the glass of the ceiling.

It hardly took Asteria much time to cast. Moreover, she cast another great spell right after her Tears of Helios, the Rain of Stars. It could be said that Asteria was extremely angry about a man hitting her face. However, due to the instability of her emotions, a problem stemmed. The stars were not in proper control and they started to land in completely random spots around the battlefield. The stars exploded much more loudly, covering more area. Craters would likely to decorate the plains after this battle was over.

Even as Aramus kept running, he was struck by the after-impact of a falling star and rolled past Elizabeth and Nicholas who were observing the fight. Aramus was scorched in most regions of his body. There were clear burn marks past his seared attire. There were internal ruptures, and some ribs may have broken from the impacts. Needless to say, he was in dire straits.

That unceremonious tumbling had given him enough time to finish the chant for Parma Magica and he managed to drag himself up, raising a hand to deploy the protective barrier. Just in time as another star fragment crashed nearby, the barrier crackling with lightning and jets of wind as it blocked the shockwave. Once it cleared, Aramus stared defiantly across the battlefield at Asteria; it was pretty much all he could do to stand now.

Asteria leveled her arm, pointing at Aramus, and he instantly took off from the barren ground. It was as if she held the Magister’s heart in her hand. His barrier was lifted along with him to form an oval blue shield that protected him even in mid-air. Asteria then clenched her fist.

Aramus’ heart was supposed to be shattered. However, the earring Aramus wore shined brilliantly instead, apparently warding off the effects of the spell as Aramus fell down to the ground. Instantly, his hand went to his chest, touching and feeling to see if he was alright. It didn’t need to be done since the earring had protected him but it was an instinct, one not easily quashed when faced with a brush with death. He laid back down, exhaling with relief and thanking the Queen for her protection.

His look of relief then changed to that of terror. He heard Elizabeth and Nicholas calling out to him, but their voices were for some reason distant.

Before he knew it, the battlefield was too far away for him to get back to, for his stomach was smashed with Asteria’s fist as he relaxed to experience a brief respite—the ground under him crumbled and he started to fall for an unprecedented amount of time.

Aramus coughed up blood, closing his eyes as he dropped further from the precipice. Perhaps this was the end for him, having his redemption snatched away. Even Nicholas and Elizabeth wouldn’t be able to help, wherever he was going. He didn’t want to cause more trouble for them anyway. These thoughts accompanied him on his descent.

I claim Shokuhou Misaki from Toaru Kagaku no Rail/Toaru Majutsu no Index/Toaru Majutsu no Index: New Testament as my waifu.

As before, he was completely unharmed, and indeed his coat was back, and unfortunately, it wasn’t Takeru’s coat.

In the space where there was no material other than the white floor, Aramus gazed at the white sky. It was completely empty.

Nothing was changing.

He was starting to get impatient as he looked around.

No, wait, he wasn’t standing before a mirror. Then what was this thing right in front of him?

Aramus looked at himself. His own visage portrayed straight before him. Behind said visage was the gate—the exit to the trials.

It wasn’t an effect of a mirror—it dawned to him—it was his doppelganger!

The fake smiled. He held a presence that flaunted confidence and a peerless will as he stood upright.

“Whatever.” Aramus muttered, stepping around his twin towards the exit.

A chop landed straight to the back of his neck and Aramus dropped dead.

Suddenly, his vision shifted and he was in his previous location yet again, as if his action of walking past the fake had never happened. It was a first for him.

“So I have to fight myself, what a pain,” Aramus muttered as he rubbed the area where he had been chopped, a phantom pain lingering.

(BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1fwoQh0Jxy8 Shh, don’t watch the game fight itself. lel)

“I am righteous.” The fake ignored the mutterings of his true counterpart. “I am strong. I can protect everyone. I am no blunt blade—I am the best knight suited for Her Majesty!” the doppelganger shouted. “You… you are weak.”

Ticked off, the real Aramus glared at his fake. “Even the best blade cannot cut everything. Besides, it is not up to us to decide how suitable we are until the other party agrees.”

“I will cut the enemy sides. I will protect Ellie. Other party be damned—they’d never speak to me, nor would they express their true judgement.”

Aramus briefly pondered whether this was how he sounded to others. If so, he would probably try to talk less. “Deeds before words. Let’s see how you plan to do it.”

“I was compared to the knights of eld by Her Majesty. I know I can. I believe! Come—my wrath, my envy, my greed, my gluttony, my sloth! Join with me, feelings of my own!”

Black orbs floated into the fake Aramus that came down from above and were absorbed by him. The doppelganger soon grew in size and was now almost thirty meters tall. He laughed heartily at his newfound strength, portraying his joy without restraint.

“That’s how bad I was? Shit,” Aramus cursed, the look of horror on his face more at the vices he had rather than the giant version of himself.

The fake Aramus attempted to step on the real one with his enlarged feet.

The real Aramus attempted to jump away. It’d be a simple task for him—for someone as fast as him. However, he couldn’t. He could hardly jump. His attempt at a jump resulted in him falling flat on the floor instead. His skills were gone, taken by his fake.

As the giant shoe loomed over him, Aramus quickly recited the only incantation that came to mind. The one for Thor’s Might. A loud crunching sound accompanied the crushing arrival of the boot, the fake grinning smugly down at his handiwork. However, a faint crackling sound could be heard and he leaned forward slightly to take a closer look.

A bolt of lightning zipped out from beneath the boot once the giant had leaned in close enough, streaking straight into the fake’s eyes.

“Guuuhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”

The doppelganger gruntled hard and loud as thunder blitzed past his eye-socket and brain, and broke past the skull in the back.

Aramus zigzaged and streaked across the empty realm before landing before his fake self and turning back to human to watch his adversary crumble to dust.

However, victory wasn’t easily achieved. The fake Aramus was already recovering; the injury was closing, and it seemed as though time was being reverted for the fake.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Aramus cursed as he ran towards the giant body, trying to gather enough power for another spell. “Blowing his brains out wasn’t enough? What the hell!”

The fake tried kicking again, and Aramus barely stepped back in time. The wind generated from the passing boot sent him off flying like paper.

As he tried to get up, the fake laughed.

“I think myself old. I think myself wise. I can educate anyone—even the Descendants. I always try to advise them, guide them, teach them—with my experiences, I am worthy of their time.”

The fake spoke as if chanting. Electricity gathered around him and with his outstretched hand, a sphere of lightning began to form.

Aramus struggled on the floor, barely sitting up as he peered across the giant visage.

“Please accept me…”

He turned to his right to find a woman. Her skin was black, but her face exuded the feminine allure of older women, and Aramus could see her voluptuous chest exposed as she wore no clothes whatsoever. Her upper torso seemed to have come out of the floor while the lower torso could be seen lying below the floor. Apparently the floor was transparent.

On the hands of the woman—as she spoke—was his beloved relic fan.

“Indeed I shall!” Aramus grinned knowingly, receiving the fan from the woman with gratitude. He could feel some power returning to him as soon as he grasped it, the handle conferring a modicum of his former strength back to him. More importantly, it felt good to have his partner back.

“You have forgotten that we were never truly alone,” Aramus declared, air spiralling around his fan as it flared with energy. “My companion, aid me!” Thrusting the relic at his fake, all the gathered energy was released in a vortex of wind.

The lightning fired its bolt from the fake, and Aramus’ tornado met it with its sharp winds. In but a moment the thunder rolled, coiled and crackled—it revolved with the wind, captured by Paimon’s strength and might. The wind carried on and drilled into the abdomen of the fake Aramus, leaving a hole.

From there a black orb floated out, and it soon entered real Aramus’ chest. He felt some of his emotions and abilities return. He absorbed back his envy. Knowledge of Aquam flowed back and to test it out, he sent a blade of water at the right knee of the giant followed by another composed of wind with his fan. As a combatant, Aramus valued his mobility. Taking that away was always his priority.

A wall of wind blocked the water and wind from the real Aramus. The fake was protected by a barrier of wind—a product of a spell he once used to own himself.

“For all tasks and work, Her Majesty should turn to me—her most loyal servant. I will be her sole blade. I will be her hammer of justice. I will shoulder everything. All responsibilities shall be mine.”

Again the fake chanted. The wind gathered and spiraled about before his palm, energy was compressed and was being stored into a spherical ball of wind. This was Aramus’ latest invention…

“Oh no. That’s mine, you don’t get to steal that. I worked hard for it.”

Aramus held the fan out at his fake accusingly, the feathers bristling alongside him. Smirking, he angled the relic slightly and awaited his fake’s attack. The spiraling sphere came down at Aramus as the fake ducked down towards him. The fan of Paimon blocked the wind, however, making the doppelganger stop—no, instead, he was rather stuck at being unable to proceed to demolishing his counterpart.

The wind from the spiraling ball were beginning to be sucked into the fan as it lost its momentum and speed of rotation. Aramus flapped the fan and a wave sent back all the power and wind that the fake had mustered up—crushing the barrier and sending him flying across the air.

Two black orbs floated into Aramus. He gained back his greed and sloth.

“You prattle too much. To think that you would forget our resident Djinn’s abilities,” the real Aramus said as he shook his head, taunting the giant. “How are you going to be the best if you forget about your own weapon?”

“That is Solomon’s, not mine,” the fake said. “I do not deserve it. I did not complete my redemption. You’re the one who indulges a weapon you don’t yet deserve!”

“You say you do not deserve it yet you wish to be the Queen’s pillar of support. Don’t make me laugh. If you aren’t worthy of this, then you definitely aren’t worthy of her,” Aramus scoffed, though his grip tightened on the fan ever so slightly.

“Coming from a man who stole the delivery van of the Queen? You hardly hold the right to run your tongue, either.”

“Hey, at least I’m trying to fix things. You just said you didn’t finish the redemption. Don’t preach.”

“It’s you who preach. Just die and disappear; I will become real.” The fake then pulled his arm up towards the whiteness and a different form of energy started to gather.

“Now this I don’t know. Anyway, I’ll be taking my heart back.”

“Then take this.”

To the left of Aramus was Sasha, holding a single stone as she descended from above.

“That lightning cannot pierce his invisible barrier, but this can.”

“Does this mean I owe you now? It’s not a very good thing having a debt with a demon,” Aramus muttered as he received the stone from her.

Aramus chanted the incantation for Thor’s Might once again, turning into a bolt of lightning as he flung himself towards the fake. His transformation broke the moment he got too close to his fake, but when he outstretched his arm towards the heart, a mysterious shattering noise occurred.

The barrier Sasha referred to must’ve been broken. With this assurance in mind Aramus chanted once again as he fell, turning into lightning and climbing up to his chest in a flash. Driving straight to the fake’s chest, Aramus drilled through his heart.

As Aramus left through the back of the doppelganger, he noticed his counterpart angered from the pain, screeching. He cranked his head to find Aramus flying across the air like a comet as lightning. His bloodshot eyes gave the real Aramus a chill down his spine. That said, he didn’t even know where his spine was as lightning, but it didn’t really matter at the moment.

The fake attempted to turn around by taking a step, but its shoe fell over what seemed like the peel of a banana. The doppelganger comically fell over, and the real Aramus saw an ephemeral spirit giving a salute in his general direction. Aramus returned the salute, snapping to attention.

The swirling energy that was gathering above the fake Aramus was gone and glowing particles started to rise up from the fallen counterfeit. His size shrunk and he looked exactly the same as Aramus with his old robe.

“I had failed… my liege. I… I could not protect…”

As Aramus recovered his original form from the lightning, the fake was long gone. Three black orbs entered him and he was whole in all ways.

“Please tell me if I end up like him,” Aramus said, letting out a breath he had been holding. Turning to Sasha, he held out the stone she had given him. “So, are you the real one or not? Either way, thanks.”

Sasha stood beside the black-skinned woman, who was beside the ephemeral woman. Needless to say, they all stood beside each other before the exit.

“...Of course I’m real,” Sasha replied in a matter-of-factly tone. “Who else do you think would give you a real slinging stone?”

“A what?” Aramus said, dropping the stone into her palm.

“Something David used a long time ago to kill a certain Goliath?”

“Why do you even have something like that?” Aramus countered, looking at the stone and Sasha in a new light.

“I stole it. I mean, I got it. Don’t ask me how,” Sasha said in a hushed tone before turning back to her usual lazy self with a yawn.

Aramus raised both hands in surrender before turning to Paimon and his other resident spirit. He flipped the fan around so that the handle faced the Djinn. “Thanks for always helping me out, I haven’t finished the quest yet so like the †˜fake’ said, here.”

“I shall be waiting for when you’ll be ready to use me again.” Paimon, the dark-skinned woman, bowed as she accepted the fan.

“And now, you,” Aramus muttered whilst looking down at the last of his supporters. “Is it only times like these that I get to see you?” He placed his hands on his hips, adopting a lecturing pose as he spoke to the “troublesome” spirit of his.

The spirit looked down as the so-called teacher took his pose. “Y…Yes, we spirits are invisible in the human world.”

“Even then, I don’t know what you’re doing,” Aramus muttered, placing a hand on his forehead. “Still, it’s good to know that someone is keeping an eye on me. Thanks.”

“I’m sorry… I’m always causing trouble when I try to help,” the woman apologized, bowing like any Japanese would.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, waving her apology off before bowing in return. “I’ll be in your care from now on, please take care of me. Heh, this is a first for us since we never saw each other right?”

“Yes, it is. My name is Binbougami. I will be in your care too.” The woman bowed.

Hearing this name, Aramus realized that he had heard of it before when looking into the Japanese culture. The god of bad luck was actually a goddess? Moreover, now that he looked at her again, her hair was mysteriously tied with a hand fan too.

“Does the extent of your power only affect me? I’ve always wondered about it,” Aramus inquired Binbougami.

“I don’t really know…”

“I guess that’s fine. Does any other spirit trouble you for hanging around someone like me? We are from opposing countries after all.”

“Sometimes… and Her Majesty is scary.”

“I’m sure there’s someone or someplace else that gives you less trouble. I don’t want you getting flak for hanging around me. It’s not right.” Aramus chuckled at how Binbougami had described Her Majesty, acceding the point to her. “Yeah, I imagine she can be sometimes.”

“Well, you should get going,” Binbougami said, ushering to the door behind them.

“Yeah, you’ve spent ninety-eight years within the trials so far,” Sasha said while snickering.

“I wish you luck in your battle,” Paimon said before expressing her anxieties. “Although I don’t know how you’ll fare without my aid…”

“I’ll manage somehow,” Aramus said as he walked past the trio and stepped through the door, waving them off like a child would to his over anxious mother. “Always have.”

Aramus walked forward resolutely. With Thor’s words strongly implanted in his heart and mind, he faced the next trial to come.

It was strange, the Magister was standing before the door of a person who was very important to him. His words of resolution were already a distant matter after faced with the prospect of meeting Her Majesty.

Indeed, this was the exact same corridor he had traversed when he first visited the Buckingham House to meet the Queen.

Now he was before her room.

“Come in,” a voice he knew all-too-well beckoned inside.

Aramus opened the door, stepping inside with a short “Excuse me.” He wasn’t quite sure why he was here but it was his duty to hear and obey.

The room was as gorgeous as he could last remember. The walls were painted red with decorations adorned with several portraits of various nobles and some of the other Royal family members. The fireplace was lit and there was the table in the center of the room surrounded by chairs like usual. There was baroque furniture aside from the table, and a bed was located in the corner of the room.

The Queen simply stood before the window to the very left and gazed upwards, facing the cloudy sky. This was reminiscent of the time he had first met Her Majesty, and she went up to the window while speaking.

Such memories seemed to be coming to his mind, but somehow it seemed far more distant than he initially assumed and he wasn’t sure when that meeting took place.

“I’m glad that you could make it here today,” the Queen said, her tone a little different from the last time he heard her. Indeed, the voice was a little deeper giving the impression of maturity; her form was that of an adult unlike the blue apparition he met in their previous meeting. However, it wasn’t just maturity that he felt, there was a mixture of warmth that the Queen had never addressed him with before.

“Your Majesty?” Aramus inquired, feeling a little uncertain about the treatment he was receiving now.

Queen turned with a kind of smile he wasn’t acquainted with. Her red dress was far more intoxicating to her visitor than he thought.

“Yes?” With a voice as sweet as honey, she spoke. “What is it?”

Aramus gulped, his eyes widening in surprise. “I-I was wondering why you had called me here, that’s all.” Not knowing where to place his eyes, he let them fall to the floor.

The Queen narrowed her eyes in a seductive manner.

“Oh? Should you not know already?” she asked in a teasing tone. “The invitation was made after consent from both sides were confirmed.”

“Consent? Regarding what?” Her voice sent chills down his spine, though he didn’t get to see the look she sent his way. Aramus was still busy counting the fibers of her carpet to keep his mind off other things. Nasty, perverted things.

“...You’d make me utter it?”

Shy, the Queen averted her gaze from the Magister.

“What do you…” Aramus trailed off, racking his brain as to why she might have called him here. More risque clothing, a different tone from the usual. “A private dinner?” he uttered, looking up from his counting.

“Nothing so stately…”

The Queen started to walk over, and Aramus’ gaze naturally followed up from the floor as if guided by instinct rather than his intellect. He knew better, but he couldn’t resist. His liege casually swept her hand up to his cheek, caressing him.

“Don’t pretend. You know why you’re here, yes?”

Aramus’ skin burned where she touched him, blood rushing to his cheeks as he tried to cobble together a reply. He failed.

Her Majesty’s other hand lovingly grasped upon his other cheek. She held his head and their gazes met. The Queen’s passionate eyes were beginning to melt his very foundation of reasoning as her head—no, more importantly—her lips began to enclose the distance between them.

Aramus was entranced as she neared him, his eyes glued to her lips as they sought his own. This was the first time she had been so close to him, in his personal space. Her scent made his head go fuzzy and it was all he could do to not get overwhelmed by her.

Finally, Aramus felt a tender contact. The rosy lips pressed against his own and it was soft. The experience was ecstatic and mesmerizing.

At least that’s how it started.

The Queen seemed to have taken the lead as she guided the Magister to her bed. The teacher thought nothing as he was made to walk across the fancy room and over to the extravagant bed.

With him pinned against the bed and the Queen over him on all fours—it was a scene that was completely unbelievable, and he felt that it was a work of imagination.

Queen Victoria pressed against him once again; her lips met his again. This time, her tongue viciously collided against his lips before forcing them open and entering his mouth, seeking his tongue and meeting it. Saliva slipped past the corners of their mouths and there were wet noises. The two were in a world of their own, quite literally.

It felt like an eternity had passed when Victoria’s lips finally parted from Aramus’ as strands of saliva bridged them for a moment. The woman regarded as his liege began to undress; a noise from the fabric was heard as the red exquisite gown fell past her curvaceous figure. Despite her figure appearing to be a porcelain—a perfect work of art, something felt missing.

“You have always been wanting to see me like this… haven’t you?” Victoria whispered, words coming out like fine wine. Her sight was truly bewitching. “Then why not feast your eyes? Look at me more, Sir Valmark.”

Any words that he had wanted to say evaporated as soon as her dress fell, revealing her milky white skin for him to see. His hands ached to touch, basic instincts telling him to do more than just sit there and watch. There was still a part of his mind that wondered what the hell was going on, but it was smaller in comparison.

“Not a single word? How cold.” The Queen’s fingertips affectionately caressed Aramus’ chest before beginning to unbutton his shirt while gazing at his eyes.

He grabbed her hand before it could go any further, yet another portion of his brain lambasted him for stopping her, for laying a hand on the Queen.

“Your Majesty, you know full well that I serve you with every fiber of my being. But this situation is totally unimaginable, I-I just don’t know what to say about it.”Aramus pulled away reluctantly, smiling sadly at his liege. “I do not dislike it, in fact I am rather happy about it. Even so, I do not deem myself worthy of your affections in this manner.” Aramus then wrapped her up in his discarded coat, feeling it was a waste to cover up her beauty.

“I… I couldn’t even tame one commoner,” the Queen said peering down to her palms with disdain, apparently speaking to herself. “What a failure of a Queen I am…”

“You’ve had me since the very beginning,” Aramus comforted her, hugging her figure from behind. “It’s not your failure, Your Majesty. I will return when I better myself as I cannot see me standing next to you in this manner as of now. Until then, please take care of my coat.”

“Filthy low-birth man, you dare to taint my name further?”

The coat that kept the person before Aramus warm burnt away to crisp with a flash and something pinned Aramus to the wall behind the bed.

When Aramus looked down, he found black roots struck against his chest. Looking up, he found a woman whose skin and figure were completely black.

As black as his dark desires, perhaps.

The woman was clearly not the Queen he knew, and she wore a contorted smile for an expression as she eyed the man’s pitifully pained face with delight.

“So you weren’t her!?” Aramus hollered, looking with despair at the ashes of his once-proud coat. “My coat!”

Anger blazed in his eyes, the moments prior to this forgotten as he grabbed onto whatever she was. He tried to peel it off his body with fervor, at being tricked and having his feelings trampled on, that he had to buy a new coat.

Unable to get out, he felt great tension and impatience—not being able to take this miserable existence out who dared to imitate the appearance of his liege. It then dawned on him that he was recently granted a new kind of power. He couldn’t tell why he had forgotten this important detail, but now was not the time to ponder about it.

Immediately, he began to call out on his knowledge gained from Thor. Texts of languages forgotten flashed across his field of vision; he instinctively understood their meaning, yet he was sure that he’d never be able to write them down somewhere for a text book publication.

Words came to mind via an unknown mechanic and he composed the incantations aloud:

“In anger smites the warder of Earth. Forth from their homes all men flee. I shall wield the weight of my hatred—for I am might incarnate! Holy Wrath Spell—Thor’s Might.”

Words he never knew flew past his lips and his body crackled with intense, sparkling thunder. The tendrils holding him against concrete wall burned to mere particles and his body dematerialized before transforming into lightning itself.

He flew to the black woman in an instant, literally through the speed of lightning, before striking at her with his very form.

With a pitiful scream the woman was smitten. Her form burned and soon crumbled to ashes with her being absolutely powerless against his might.

Aramus soon found himself human once again, slightly taken aback by the power he had just used. “Holy shit, that was cool,” he breathed, looking down at his body that still crackled with residual lightning.

Before he knew it, the world was empty and white as he marveled at his impressive new spell. The final gate opened, disallowing him to recount in his mind what he had been through so far.

Immediately upon entry, he didn’t find any whiteness but was greeted with coldness instead.

There was a strong blizzard going on, and he was standing on snow. With hardly any clothes to cover him, it was freezing and his body was already starting to be covered with snow.

He seemed to be over some kind of a slope, and below the hill he spotted what seemed like a small cottage.

“S-Screw this,” Aramus murmured, his teeth chattering in the cold. Immediately heading down towards the cottage, he stumbled slightly as the freezing winds battered him to and fro. Opening the door, hot air rushed out from within, and he took refuge inside immediately, closing the door behind him.

Inside there was a fireplace, a bed, a table, and a sofa. In the corner, there appeared to be what seemed like a small place to prepare food? Either way, he felt safe here, and more importantly, better.

Sitting on the sofa with a dumbstruck look was a friend he had recently made—Mary Shelley.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, crawling closer to the fireplace. The warmth called to him and Aramus huddled next to it, rubbing his hands together to generate more heat.

“I should be the one saying that,” Mary tersely responded. “Where did you come from? I thought I was alone out here.”

“Beats me. It was cold, I saw a house. No questions asked.” Some of the feeling was returning to his limbs and Aramus relaxed a little more. It only showed how fearsome the blizzard was to affect him so much in such a short time.

Mary chuckled. “Feel free to stay here as long as you want. It doesn’t seem like it’ll stop any time soon.”

“If it ever does,” Aramus replied. “Do you happen to have something warm to drink?”

Mary started walking over to the corner. “I have some tea,” she said in a cheerful tone. “So, how are things going?”

“What do you mean?” Aramus said, looking up at her with curiosity from where he sat.

From a container Mary poured tea into a cup. She didn’t prepare any tea for herself for reasons unknown before she handed the Magister the hot beverage.

“What else would I mean?”

Aramus sipped the hot tea, letting out a content sigh as warmth began to work through his body. Nothing like a good cup of tea to make everything better. “You have to be clear about what you want, Mary. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“I only asked a normal question,” Mary said with a tilted head, bewildered. “I do not think there is any demand other than curiosity, and nor do I think I was speaking of a particular subject.”

Aramus looked just as bewildered but shrugged after that, deciding that talking more about it would only bring up more problems. “Well, cold? Confused? I don’t know how or why I’m here to be honest.”

“You don’t know why you’re here?” Mary repeated the words she heard with raised eyebrows. How could that be possible? “You’re saying that you suddenly found yourself in this mountainous area out of the blue?”

“Look into my eyes if you have to, I don’t particularly mind,” Aramus said, draining his cup. Now that he had done so, the cabin seemed so much more comfortable.

“I don’t really need to; I trust you,” Mary curtly answered, smiling for some reason as she took the cup from his hand. “You must be tired, why don’t you rest?”

“Great idea. You sure you don’t mind me bunking here for some time?” Aramus questioned, feeling a little bad that he was intruding on Mary’s abode.

“No problem,” Mary assured. “Feel free to sleep on the bed. I’ll keep a watch out for the blizzard.”

“Naw, I’ll take the sofa. Wouldn’t feel right sleeping in your bed,” Aramus said, heading over to find out how comfortable that sofa was. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he could sleep if Mary’s scent was all over the bed. It would’ve given him strange ideas.

“It’s a single chair, though,” Mary said, giggling. “I do not think you can sleep on it no matter how you argue.”

“You underestimate me, child. I have slept in far worse places than this,” Aramus exaggerated, planting his rear in said chair. It wasn’t too bad when one compared it the horrendous living conditions he was exposed to as a child. “Not too bad.”

“Child? Even though I am older than you by two centuries?” Mary questioned, laughing yet again. “Children should sleep soundly in bed, so get going or else I’m going to forcefully place you there; don’t underestimate an adult, now.”

“Here I thought you’d prefer that to something else…” Aramus commented but still stubbornly sat on his throne, refusing to budge. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just take a short nap and maybe five more…”

“Alright, feel free to do that.”

It seemed as though Mary had conceded, but her smile looked rather cold and evil and Aramus could imagine unfathomable anger coursing through her mind. Who knew, women were mysterious creatures and sometimes hard to get. Shrugging, he closed his eyes to get some rest.

It didn’t even take five minutes before Mary began to hear the soft noises from snoring that occurred due to a sleeping Aramus.

Despite not looking like it, Mary possessed quite the arm strength as she carted Aramus over to her bed in his sleep. He was so exhausted that he didn’t even notice being carried. She then covered him with a blanket and sat down on the chair that was somewhat warmed by the man previously.

Anyway, Aramus slept soundly in peace. He saw no dreams, no visions, no nothing. His mind entered a pure state of peace and quiet.

Later, he opened his eyes. Speaking of his eyes—they were extremely heavy and he felt like closing them again. How long had it been since he fell asleep like this? It had been too long since he rested so much. Even then, he felt like sleeping more.

He felt no point in staying up. Sleep was important. Sleep was a luxury, and sleep was extremely relaxing.

Not realizing that he had slept for two years straight without waking up, Aramus went back to sleep.

He started seeing strange scenes of a certain brilliant student he had and a fellow he respected. Probably. Aramus, however, took them as mere dreams. Did he even know them?

After sleeping for fifty years Aramus lost sight of reality completely. He’d seldom wake up only to go back to sleep. He didn’t even care about the constitution of his body, and he never felt any sort of health dangers from his body—wasn’t he just fine?

At some point he woke up to find Mary caressing his hair, sitting beside him.

“It’s fine to rest more; it’s still storming outside,” she said, as if she knew what he was going to ask.

“Mmmm…” Aramus murmured, closing his eyelids again. The fact that she was caressing him so openly never crossed his mind.

Aramus then dreamt of all kinds of strange things he thought he’d never see. Stars beyond the skies of Earth, galaxies, the universe—it was very mysterious. He was being pleasantly invited by all kinds of pleasures to rest further. There were visions of fairies and there were strange pictures and portraits of sculptures passing around. These sculptures were created by human hands to commemorate their Gods in the ancient Greek.

Then he saw all kinds of strange writings. Scripts of the ancient times. Languages that were known to be dead these days. Magical writing of the grimoires.

As all these strange things were seen, Aramus’ body in the cottage gave off a blue hue and Mary noted that he was experiencing the state of Twilight. He had overstayed the Infernal Realm and was suffering the consequences.

However, it wasn’t exactly a bad situation if one’s will was strong enough to comprehend what they were viewing.

In this Realm of Knowledge, Aramus viewed all kinds of mysteries and things beyond the existence of the mortal realm. Before long, these prints were etched into his memories and he’d likely never forget them in the future. Despite not completely understanding the meaning of the words, he understood them by heart. Perhaps it was in his nature to endure this long travel in this foreign Realm.

Aramus drifted through his lane of memory and saw all kinds of tragedies he had faced, Elizabeth being burnt and melted among other things. It was a review of most of the peculiar and disgusting experiences he had recently—however far removed from reality—he’d been witness too, and he’d likely never recover from these traumatic events. He may expect situations to grow worse more often in the future.

A thunderous revelation drew him away from all these memories eventually. The crackling noise took his attention as he faced an ancient Celestial Spirit, Thor. Aramus couldn’t quite see anything other than lightning, yet somehow he knew who he was meeting.

“What is your desire?” the being asked.

Aramus contemplated that he was free from the clutches of the trials, if only temporarily. It was as if he had taken a step back, allowing him to put things into perspective. The words of Thor did not manage to evoke a great reaction from him. Rather they pulled forth things which Aramus did not want to lose.

“I wish for the power to protect,” Aramus said. Looking in the direction he felt the lightning surged strongest, a certain feeling told him Thor was there.

“Yet I feel… great fury in you. Tell me, there has to be someone—something—you wish to trample upon badly,” a voice reverberated across the rumbling lightning, and it seemed like the thunder occurred more furiously when Thor spoke.

“My rage, it stems from others trampling over those I consider important. I cannot stand by and watch that happen, they who would callously crush the hopes and dreams of others for their own ends,” Aramus replied, his lips curling in slight distaste. “They have to be stopped by somebody, even if it costs me my life.”

“Very well. Rush forth to the needs of the distressed if it is what your will deems—for that is the way of a hero. I shall grant you the secrets of Divine speed.”

Magical text was seen by Aramus but only briefly.

“I cannot confer the gratitude I feel right now through words, but then again, I imagine you would much rather see it through action,” Aramus said, smiling wryly.

“I am he who once protected mankind. I guide heroes and light their paths to glory. This is but a small feat hardly requiring gratitude.”

Aramus started to fall instead of float in the space he was in. The zigzag-trailed thunders were going far and far out of reach from him.

“Listen well!” Thor’s voice echoed as he fell. “For the armaments of mine own lieth in the Realm you wander!”

Aramus then woke up just after he heard the voices, opening his eyes to face a window beyond which all was dark.

Mary was still caressing his hair, he didn’t even know how long he had slept, but it felt like a very long time. He wasn’t sure how Mary passed all that time, and how long she had been inside this house with him enduring the progress of the heavy blizzard.

“Now, I’m loathe to leave a lovely lady such as yourself but I had best get going,” Aramus said as he rose, feeling a little more refreshed from his nap. A nap that spanned years.

“I see, so you are going to leave me too…?” Mary asked, she didn’t seem depressed nor happy, showing a face of indifference despite the suggestion her words may give. Of course, she had retracted her hand from Aramus as soon as she noted that he was awake.

“Sometimes, we don’t leave because we want to,” Aramus replied to her with a pained smile.

“That is indeed true. I had to go through that before as well,” Mary said, giving a warm smile.

For some reason, Aramus thought that he’d not forget this smile of her’s.

He opened the door and the cold wind rushed inside, striking against his worn-out clothes and Mary’s visage violently.

“Stay safe now,” Mary said, waving to Aramus who was leaving the house.

“Same to you, Mary. Thanks for taking care of me all this time,” Aramus said, struggling to smile through the buffeting wind. “I hope to have another cup of your tea soon.”

“You’re welcome to visit any day for the tea, or to relax.” Mary’s words sounded as though they were echoed from afar.

Aramus waved at her as he walked after noting the words. Mary seemed to be waving at him too as she continued from her previous sentence:

“After all, it’s the job of a woman to take care of her—”

The voice was gone and the rest of the sentence was unheard when Aramus suddenly found a large and tall gate before him.

Facing the gate inscribed with the star emblem, he moved on.

This time, there was no empty space. Aramus was already sitting before a table.

The ones that joined him were Elizabeth, Caroline, Christopher, and Frederica.

The table was full of exceptional sweets and all kinds of cuisine he’d ever want.

Sasha seemed to be the chef, donning an apron and serving quite a lot of food, and he wasn’t even sure how long it’d take to consume everything.

“So, I take it this is where we carry on our duel?” he said to Caroline. He was confused but that wouldn’t stop him. Even if the food wasn’t real, the flavors sure were. Also, he was strangely pleased by Sasha in the apron. He felt she looked quite fetching.

“Of course, but can you keep up?” Caroline asked. “Once you start, you cannot stop.”

Aramus was almost ready to begin but her second line perturbed him, causing him to pause and look at her. “What do you mean, can’t stop?”

“We must continue till the serving stops. You cannot stop eating till the end,” Caroline curtly answered in a matter-of-factly tone. “That is the rule.”

“Oh, if that’s what you meant then I guess that’s ok. I hope they have enough to go along for all of us,” Aramus said hopefully.

“We probably do, teacher,” Elizabeth said, propping herself up with a fork and spoon.

“Then let us begin,” Aramus announced, pumping a fist in the air.

“Indian food, banzai!” Christopher yelled.

“It’s time for my bakery!” Frederica called out.

Sasha poured forth—or so it seemed—all her efforts into bringing all of such food to the table, carrying numerous plates.

The dining began and everyone seemed to be eating almost as vigorously as Aramus himself. Even Caroline hardly cared about her manners.

Aramus looked at Elizabeth and her cheeks were stained with some of the sauce from some exotic dish she was having. It was surreal seeing Elizabeth like this.

There was something wrong here. Sure the food was delicious, but it shouldn’t be enough for Elizabeth to eat the way she was. Forgetting all about etiquette as a young noble lady, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that even his own meagre level of etiquette was higher than the current young lady before him.

“Uh, Elizabeth, shouldn’t you take it a little slower?” he said even as the girl in question swallowed food while barely chewing anything.

Elizabeth looked up to Aramus, her mouth holding up what seemed like a fish. “What are you talking about?” Elizabeth asked with a muffled voice. “Why should I do that?”

“Weren’t you always telling me about… minding my manners?” Aramus said, pulling back slightly as she seemed to swallow the fish even as she spoke. It was pretty unnerving.

“Manners? What manners?” Caroline said from the other side, slurping on her pasta.

“And you! Don’t slurp!” Aramus said, momentarily forgetting himself as he told her off. “Aren’t you supposed to be chiding her as well!?”

“Slurping feels so great, though,” Caroline remarked, ignoring the part about chiding.

Christopher was holding the chicken drumsticks on his hand and tearing apart the meat in a rather brutish manner. He looked like someone who hadn’t eaten for a few days. “You do know that we have a time limit, right?!”

“That’s right, we ought to hurry,” Frederica added, her fork dug into multiple pancakes drizzled with honey before she put most of it straight into her mouth.

“We can always eat another time, you don’t have to eat to this extent,” Aramus said, getting up from the table. Wrong, wrong, wrong. This was grating on him, how they were all so different, losing themselves in their desire to eat. Had he looked like this to the others? He sincerely hoped not, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut that told him it was true.

He started to hear a tick-tock noise and looked up. There was a clock floating in the air, and the time was indeed ticking by. Was this what Christopher was referring to?

“If you stop now it’d be too late,” Sasha said with a grin from the corner.

Now the rest he was concerned about—more like outright frightened by their sudden ravenous appetites—but Sasha? Best heed what she had to say for the time being at least. He went back to eating, all the while watching the rest of them out of the corners of his eyes. The spread before him was delectable and yet he didn’t seem to get as much enjoyment from it as usual.

In only about thirty minutes, the time was up.

“None of you guys finished in time. Tsk tsk tsk,” Sasha said with pity, shaking her head in feigned distress. “It’s time for the punishment for leaving unfinished food on the table.”

Aramus’ belly started to enlarge. His clothes around his abdomen tore apart as it was already five times the usual size. Forget pregnancy, it was akin to having many balloons packed inside him.

It didn’t take long for the limit to be reached and his stomach finally burst open, all the food rushing out. Combined together, it seemed like a large projectile flying across the table mixed with his own blood and entrails.

He wasn’t the only one who suffered this punishment. Moments later everyone’s enlarged bellies burst too, and it was a horrible yet comical sight unfolding before him as the table and floor all around them were splattered with food, entrails and blood.

Aramus wasn’t even sure how to comprehend the situation. He simply stared at the sight before him, with his companions’ heads all dropping to the table with a loud thud against the plates, dead. That said, everything on the plates were now stones and mud and all kinds of dirty… things. He couldn’t even tell what some of those strange objects were. They weren’t really served food at all.

Only he was alive and he hardly felt anything from below him.

“See? I warned you.” Sasha laughed as she watched all of this take place.

“This isn’t even on the level of pigs anymore,” Aramus managed, the overwhelming pain from having his stomach ripped open nearly making him pass out. “I—ahhh, need to watch what I eat next time.” He wanted to curl up but with his body the way it was, whatever remained of his innards would just spill out.

“Did you realize how bad your gluttony actually is?”

“Is this what I ate? All of it?” he hissed in agony, looking at what had erupted from his stomach alongside it.

“Everything, yes,” Sasha answered. Except all the food Aramus ate looked like black rubble of some sort. He could hardly distinguish anything from the messy table as the contents were now mixed with the insides and rubbish that burst out from the bellies of his fellow eaters.

“Guess I better—ugh—cut back on my intake.” Even though it wasn’t food anymore, the sheer amount of what he had eaten was astounding. Where had he put all of that anyway?

“Oh, no. Don’t be so modest now. Here, have some of my favorites.”

From above rained an endless amount of apples. Some of them hurt his head as they bumped against him. Some moments later, it seemed like apples were only falling on him. The torrent of apples became rapid and fast and to Sasha, it was like watching a pillar of apple forming upon Aramus.

Aramus tried to get out of all the apples that restricted his movements, but he collapsed and drowned instead. All he remembered was darkness until he fell upon solid floor and found the next gate open before him.

Again his body was restored and his stomach was found intact. It seemed like every time he’d come back to reality, his state of mind would be somewhat restored as well. Otherwise it’d usually ride along with the situation presented to him.

He was only in the middle of the ordeal from what it seemed, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to go on, but he walked forward regardless.

As Aramus stepped beyond the next door, the demon behind him sighed. Sasha had been watching all along while munching on apples.

On the next level of white space was obviously nothingness. However, there was one person standing unlike the last time.

It was Takeru.

Takeru was perfectly dressed as a butler.

“What would you like?” he asked. He didn’t remember coming here with Takeru, so perhaps this was an illusion conjured for his so-called trial.

“Your suit,” Aramus answered flatly as he gave Takeru a once over. “Give me your clothes.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”

From behind him—however ridiculous it seemed to Aramus—Takeru took out a wooden case, and opened it before Aramus to reveal a set of clothes. Fashionable and durable, and apparently better. The coat wasn’t handed to Aramus. Instead, Takeru put it on for him.

“Oh!” Aramus exclaimed, the plush material light and airy, contrary to his expectations. He twisted and turned in his new outfit, satisfied with how it looked on him.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my Lord?” As Takeru asked, he handed a cup of hot tea to his apparent master.

“Uh, I don’t really know what’s going on. Why are you serving me?” Aramus asked even as he looked around for anything that might give him a clue. The world changed to a garden before he knew it. There was a mansion behind him, and it was simply a peaceful place. There was no breeze, but there was no exceptional heat or cold either.

A tranquil world. Perhaps even ideal.

He could see Almond running around the gardens a little far from him.

“Whatever would you mean, my Lord? I have always been your faithful servant,” Takeru the butler replied, a little dumbfounded and confused from the question.

“My servant?” Aramus asked dubiously, taking a small step away from Takeru. “Lord? Wait, why did you address me like that?”

Takeru blinked his eyes once, then twice. “Well, that is of course because you are an aristocrat—a being of noble descent,” he explained in a matter of factly tone. “And I am but a man of humble birth, and you so happened to hire me when I was in dire need of work.”

Aramus blinked in confusion, pointing at himself. “A noble? What kind of nonsense are you talking about, I’m the poorest of the poor.”

“Pardon my usage of words, but that is nonsense, my Lord. You are a noble, a Duke, an important man. Whatever’s gone wrong with your memories?”

Looking at Takeru like he had a few screws loose—perhaps he did—Aramus opened his mouth to say something but paused. He felt tired, like they had had this conversation multiple times before. “Whatever then. Let’s take a rest, I’m bushed.”

“I shall prepare the necessities to deal with the fatigue, then,” Takeru immediately said, noting distress from viewing the complexion of his master, and walked away with hurried steps.

Before he could decide to go back to the manor or explore his vast land, someone called out to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

He heard, and turned, finding little Sophie running up to him.

“Look! I drew this!” Sophie showed a portrait. Hand-drawn and clumsily made, it was a picture of him, with Sophie herself, Almond—traversing through what seemed like sunflowers?—and Takeru standing afar with a very straight and upright stance like a servant prepared for anything.

Aramus smiled down at his “daughter” a little dumbstruck by the situation. Still, that didn’t prevent him from praising her efforts. “That’s nice Sophie. Our little… family?” he said hesitantly, not exactly sure what to call the four of them.

“That’s right!” she exclaimed in joy from the praise. “It’s too bad I don’t have a mommy to draw… but we’ll be fine, right?”

“We don’t have a mommy…” Aramus whispered under his breath. That meant he was a young father of two!? A shocking revelation! “Yep, we’ll be fine. Just the four of us,” he said earnestly, tousling her hair gently. He would do everything within his means to protect the both of them.

“Mhm.” Sophie smiled, feeling a little spoiled from being patted. “I considered adding Aunt Farris, but since she can be a little mean, I didn’t.”

Aramus couldn't prevent his expression from turning into a slight grimace as he processed what she just said. “Is she coming back later today?” he asked since the person in question wasn’t around.

“She said that she will be visiting us today and attend lunch with us. Had you forgotten, Daddy?”

“Your father can be forgetful sometimes, haha,” he said with a light chuckle. So Claudia was coming over then.

The pair of father and daughter soon walked back to the manor.

Inside was as glamorous as he had wanted it to be somewhere deep inside his heart. The vivid red carpets adorned the floors, and it was simply extravagant-looking at the intricate details across the walls and the many portraits of Her Majesty decorating the walls.

Almond returned at some point, and he was a handsome child. He seemed a little older than when Aramus had last seen him and he seemed like someone who was going to inherit whatever business Aramus had running.

“Oh, Father, I see you are back from business,” Almond said, apparently before Aramus came to; he had been out for business? “I studied, so don’t panic about my future now,” he said with a sigh.

Had they had a dispute about his lack of studies? Aramus couldn’t tell.

“Perhaps I was worrying too much,” Aramus said back, letting out a small “humph”. “You’ve excelled in everything I’ve assigned to you so far.” If memory served, but he didn’t need to add that.

“That’s right, I am great,” Almond said with a carefree gesture of running his hand across his blonde hair with a haughty and smug smile. “I shall excel in anything and everything, just you watch, Father.”

This, Aramus could not remember the old Almond doing, especially the smug smile.

“I will, just don’t let too much of it go to your head. Needlessly flaunting our successes only brings more trouble than it’s worth. Sometimes it is better to achieve things quietly.”

“But confidence is what makes a man!” Almond argued back, but seemed to let it go. “Well, whatever you say.”

“It is good to be confident, Almond. Just don’t rub it in other people’s faces,” he said honestly, speaking from his own experience. “Still, I trust your judgement.”

Before their conversation could continue, the sweet scent of bakery and cream caught his nose. Aramus instinctively turned to find Takeru holding a tray full of colorful cupcakes.

Each with different flavors.

“My Lord, I apologize for the wait but your favorite cupcakes are ready,” Takeru said, offering the cupcakes.

“Oh boy,” Aramus said as he forgot himself for a moment, striding over to his †˜servant.’ “What do we have today?”

“Blueberry, chocolate, vanilla, cherry, salted caramel, and lastly, cream cheese. I hope they are to your liking, my Lord.”

“Oh, hand me the salted caramel,” Almond requested.

“Blueberry for me!” Sophie exclaimed.

Takeru gave them their desired cupcakes. It seemed like they loved cupcakes as much as Aramus for some reason?

“Takeru, take whichever one suits your fancy as well,” Aramus commented, watching his †˜kids.’ Seeing them enjoy something simply warmed his heart. He never thought that a feeling like this would come his way.

“Then I shall gratefully accept the vanilla.” Takeru gave a nod and took out the vanilla cupcake as he had stated.

“Good, good,” Aramus said, grabbing a random one off the tray to chew on. “If anyone wants more, please help yourselves.”

“No, that’s fine,” Almond responded.

“We’re used to seeing you eat all of them,” Sophie added after his son with a chuckle.

In a dramatic way the door opened, and in the middle of the open sight was Claudia, wearing a fancy dress as would befit an aristocrat. Her facial features were dressed with excess makeup making her appear rather eerie.

“Bonjour, dear brother,” Claudia greeted, giving a respectable curtsy the real one would never be able to replicate.

So this was what Claudia would be like if she hadn’t turned? Or was this the Claudia of his ideals? Still, he frowned a bit at her greeting. “Don’t be so cold Claudia, you don’t have to curtsy to me. Also, don’t teach the kids any weird things.”

“Oh, but this is appropriate for a lady, it is not?” Claudia said with raised eyebrows, still smiling, as if they had been through this countless times before.

Aramus sighed. This facet of her seemed unchanged, the endless teasing. Ah how he had sorely missed it, or not. “Don’t learn any bad habits from your aunt, kids. Remember, this is England. We use English for a reason,” Aramus whispered to his two “offsprings.”

Claudia seemed to be frowning while Aramus instructed the children. Of course, Almond and Sophie were nodding with agreement.

With all said and done, they went on to have long conversations about various things. Aramus came to learn that Claudia was running some kind of a business related to fashion, but he didn’t delve deep into the subject. He came to learn that she was soon to be married to a Marquis, who was likely a respectable gentleman, and that she was going to go far away due to that.

They soon had lunch and Takeru only seemed to serve his children’s favorites. Almond apparently prefered Chinese while Sophie seemed to like Italian cuisines. It was strange seeing so many different kinds of dishes lined across the long table. Claudia was served all kinds of seafood.

Aramus didn’t know if that was in-line with reality or not.

Probably not.

After lunch, Claudia left and his children dispersed to deal with †˜other activities’ for the day. Whatever that meant was something he wasn’t sure of

“Do we have anything on the itinerary today, Takeru?” Aramus asked after lunch, curious as to what was to happen now.

“Nothing in particular, my Lord. We have completed all work-related matters for the day. At night, you’ll have to attend a meeting with some clients, however,” Takeru answered.

“So I have free time then?” Aramus said, looking as if Takeru had told him he had struck the lottery grand prize. “ME? Free time!?”

“...Well, yes. You are usually free around this time of the day, my Lord,” Takeru curtly answered, bewildered.

“O-Ok. If you say so,” Aramus said, slipping back to how he referred to Takeru as his senior. “I’m going to take a bath, my body feels strangely heavy.” Aramus turned to go but then he realized this wasn’t his home, even if they did say it was his. “Uh, would you mind drawing a bath for me?” he asked, turning back to Takeru.

“As you wish, my Lord.” Takeru accepted the request with a bow.

After some time, Aramus was guided to his bath. The open-air bath was wide and long; the steamy air pulled all of his tension out as he enjoyed the warm water. Apparently this was how where he’d take baths every day.

Soon after, he decided to take a nap in his own room. Now that he was all clean from the sweat from work and the apparent tiresome day, it was time to rest his mind and body. With such a thought, he went to the large and extravagant bed.

He didn’t take much time to note how his room was, but it was decorated in every way he’d imagined with all the high-quality furniture and designs.

After some time it felt like he fell asleep.

He didn’t know how much time had elapsed since, but he heard something strange. Something like a howl far away.

Groggy and barely able to think straight, Aramus opened his eyes reluctantly as if wanting to sleep more and ignore whatever might’ve been happening. His view of the ceiling was obscured for some reason.

It was dark.

By the time he noticed the gravity of the situation, it was too late, for Claudia was already sucking his blood from his neck! Her hair was long, wavy, and perhaps uncombed. It shrouded his vision but he somehow figured it out from her figure that was latched over his blankets. She didn’t seem to bother to take the blanket out of the way and proceeded to find his neck. How uncouth.

“What are you doing Claudia?” he yelled, flailing about under his blanket to get her away from her. Shooting away immediately, he flung, crawled back a few paces once he was free from the clutches of both her and his blanket. That said, why did his bed have to be so big?

“Having my lunch,” Claudia answered tersely. “Real lunch,” she affectionately added with a twisted smile.

To Aramus she appeared to be some form of a demon now, an evil presence. It was starting to tickle his memory of who Claudia really was.

“No bonjour this time?” Aramus said in jest, reaching around for Paimon’s fan. Where had he put the damned relic?

More importantly, while he was searching for the fan, it seemed like his room was on fire. The portraits of Her Majesty were already gone and turned to ash. Some of the walls were broken now that he looked around, and Claudia was approaching him. The situation turned dire before he knew it.

He could hear Almond and Sophie crying somewhere far away.

“Oh, screw this,” Aramus moaned, tossing the blanket over Claudia such that it caught on her tiara and ran out of the room. He had better things to deal with, like saving his kids.

“You bastard of a brother!” Aramus heard faintly as he ran across the burning corridors.

“You’re a big girl! You can take care of yourself, I think,” he yelled back, not stopping.

He couldn’t really tell where the rooms of his children were as he traversed the manor. It was too big for his own good now. When he reached the main halls—the center of the mansion—he found both Almond and Sophie huddled together with Takeru standing behind them.

Were they waiting for him?

It seemed like some rubble had fallen and blocked the path to the main door exit.

“Hurry, we have to get out of here,” he said as he rushed to them, hugging the crying children. “Takeru, are there any other exits we can use to get out of here?”

The children hugged their so-called father back. As he pondered about why Takeru wasn’t replying, he looked upon his children to find them smiling.

He grimaced, feeling a prickling pain from his chest.

Looking down, Aramus found circular forms of scarlet enlarging at a slow pace; Almond and Sophie both stabbed him with knives.

Their tears were fake, their loving words were fake—everything was fake.

Takeru shot out some forks and knives that pinned Aramus to the floor in an instant.

“It’s a checkmate, my Lord.”

“It was nice playing with you, Daddy.”

“Well, Father, you were most amusing.”

The three looked down at him with distorted smiles as if to reveal that he had been played most successfully.

To Aramus, they appeared similar to Claudia now. Speaking of Claudia, he looked up and found her walking up to him with the same expression.

“It’s a little early, but it’s dinner time, brother.”

Their laughters resounded across the burning halls that made his head hurt.

“So you got to them first,” Aramus said, piecing things together. “How long have you kept this farce going?”

Aramus received no answers. Instead, everyone started stabbing him mercilessly, Claudia included, who seemed to be using knives of similar fashion. Moments later everyone seemed to be slicing out his meat, and were greedily consuming it.

It was a grotesque and painful sight.

They’re like hyenas, Aramus thought, even as his body was consumed piecemeal by his “family.” This whole day had been a farce, like he had suspected at the beginning. Him, a noble. He had wild dreams of that happening when he was young, but those times were long past. Even as he began to lose feeling in his limbs and body—only feeling the sharp stabs of liquid fire when his flesh was torn—Aramus could only curse himself for being complacent about it.

Lulled into a sense of security by familiar faces, he had been betrayed by the very same. He had been screaming ever since the ordeal began, but it had annoyed one of them and his throat was torn out. Now it hurt to breathe and even as his eyes began to slowly close shut amidst the pain, both physical and emotional. He still felt that it had been strangely fulfilling to see them smiling happily today.

Aramus heard something like a strong and loud thump. When he opened his eyes, it seemed like someone was throwing stones from the rubble at the people torturing him.

There was a woman. Her form was ephemeral and hardly visible but she seemed to be desperately trying to help.

She finally picked up a large boulder from somewhere and with unbelievable strength, and tossed it directly on Claudia’s head. Blood leaked down from Claudia’s hair and she yelled out in pain.

If he could, Aramus would’ve grinned like an idiot.

The woman vanished and her hands seemed to have risen up from below the floor, catching Aramus and soon, he was picked up. Before he knew it, he was being carried out of the manor with a piggyback ride, however inappropriate the entire situation sounded.

As soon as Aramus was carried out of the mansion after the woman burst out of a window with him—Aramus suddenly fell as the form of his savior vanished.

Looking up, it was all white and empty again.

He was back to reality, his body intact and perhaps he had finally accepted this greedy facet of himself.

“That girl felt familiar,” he thought out loud before putting a hand to his throat. It was whole again, but his fingers pressed and prodded to make sure. He pulled himself up into a sitting position, feeling all over his body.

This time, Takeru was no longer there, and it was depressing to find out that he was back to wearing the tattered clothes from Harrods.

It felt like he had woken up from a nightmare, but he felt more tired than ever; the sleep he had back in that illusory mansion did no good for him.

Another white space.

Another place he found empty.

Was it really empty, however?

None of the wounds he received remained. None of the burns from the previous room scorched him. He was recovered, or was the previous trial simply an illusion?

Somehow, he was also mentally recovered. In fact, he felt better than ever, to the point that it felt rather vexing.

Suddenly, Aramus was holding a medal.

He looked around. Everyone cheered for him. It felt strange, and he was nervous.

The Royal Queen of Britain had just awarded him for becoming a Magister with a smile. It was an honor. He felt proud of himself. His peers were clapping for his ascension in rank.

However, the faces of his so-called peers were dark and grim—as if their true faces were being shown.

The thoughts of the aristocrats echoed.

“Lame.”

“Why him…”

“Damned commoner scum.”

“Why, why! How could a commoner surpass me…?!”

And so on, he heard the frustrations of the high born individuals. He felt the sneers and hatred of his fellow scholars. Everyone hated him.

He heard the voice of the Queen—her thought.

“To think I handed something so precious to such a dirty pair of hands. Oh dear, I must immediately cleanse my hands at the earliest convenience.”

“Y-Your Majesty!” Aramus exclaimed, dumbstruck by what she had thought. Perhaps he had misheard. One such as her couldn’t have possibly have said something like that. It was probably him, yes, his mistake. Even so, it felt as though a stake of hot iron was thrust into his heart, searing his entire being. The shame he felt when being addressed as such by her...

He blinked, and he was at the Queen’s Meeting. Facing these stares again.

He was talking to his teacher. His master. His mentor.

The man who had made him what he was today as a warrior.

“Tch, what wasted efforts,” his teacher grumbled. These were also thoughts even though they were toasting to his growth. “He didn’t even become half as strong as I envisioned. What the heck am I gonna do like this? Magister? So what?! My protege isn’t even worth a thing like this! So this is as far as a commoner goes. I should’ve found a way to train a noble instead.”

“Master!” The man he thought dead, possibly come back from the grave. Were these the thoughts he had held all along? Aramus would never know, and it troubled him. That for a good portion of his life, the man he took as his father figure would think like that. It was a different kind of pain from the one he felt with Her Majesty, a lot more personal. Even after all the effort he had put in, would it never be enough? An issue of his commoner blood? An unchangeable fact? Those answers would never come.

His master turned, making an excuse politely. He exited the hall soon and then punched the wall when he was out of sight. Cursing his fate, and cursing his lack of reputation.

“Because I wasn’t popular with the scholars, that I ended up with this?!” he spoke to himself.

A sword dug out from his heart in the next moment, and Aramus’ mentor turned to find Powlett’s smirking face.

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to experiment with the devils to learn forbidden arts, teacher,” the Duke said in a sardonic tone. Several men walked up from the corners of the darkness and took hold of Aramus’ teacher’s corpse, cleaning the floor of the spilled blood and walking away.

The Duke turned to where Aramus was, enjoying his food in bliss in an attempt to avoid the gazes of the nobles.

“Sucks to be born as a commoner, huh?”

The former student of the mentor saw all of this as a vision.

Aramus looked miserably at his hands under the table, already forming into fists. That his mentor would be murdered so blatantly by The Society whilst he had been too busy hiding his own face beneath food, was this how he had repaid his master? Aramus bit his lip till it was sore, grinding his teeth. Petty, naive, a fool. Blinding himself to avoid the painful gazes was nothing better than cowardly. Would it always end as the commoners word against the nobles, an insurmountable wall that cannot be surpassed?

The world they lived in was always so far away with their balls, fine dining and what not. He? Run away into self imposed exile. A fine specimen of commoner filth.

The final vision then showed. It was like one of those theatres in London. He always wanted to see one as a child. When Aramus looked down at himself, he was in the form of a child. An innocent child, seemingly. However, his mind of his former self was intact.

Instead of actors and actresses or the stage, there was a television, large and wide. This reminded him of the Japanese cinema halls.

Wasn’t this an English theatre?

It wasn’t. Before he knew it—Japanese technology renovated the hall.

The display began to play.

It showed his origin.

It showed who he was—whose child he was.

It showed who was responsible for his past.

For some reason he was already crying. He didn’t know why. Perhaps he didn’t wanted to know.

His vision was blurry when the video was being played.

In an empty and dirty alley was a woman with silver hair, weeping. On her bosom the woman held an infant covered in white cloth. The infant was crying noisily.

She seemed rather young, just barely passable as an adult. Her figure was nostalgic but Aramus couldn’t put a finger to it.

Had he met her before? He couldn’t tell. Probably not.

“D...Don’t leave me! Your child—he is right here. Would you really leave us both?!” the lady cried out, and even the voice was familiar, yet his hearing was somehow uneven too. Like someone put cotton in his ears to disallow most sound from entering.

“Don’t leave me…”

The man clad in a black robe walked out of the alley and disappeared into the crowd of people.

It seemed to be morning. The sky was cloudy. It was likely London.

A chain pulled her from behind.

A jet black chain encircled her neck and she was but a slave to the man behind her. A person Aramus had never seen before—enshrouded in darkness—pulled his mother away as she outstretched her arm toward the infant.

Alone, the infant continued to cry on the dirty ground with only a dirty torn book on the ground beside him.

So these were his parents? The family that he had never known, split apart. It was not that his parents were killed and despite what he was shown, a small kernel of hope sprung forth amidst the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he would be able to meet both of them if he looked hard enough.

He clung to it like a thirsting man would to water, a new desire apart from his duty to the Queen. “Someday, I will see them again.”

With this thought voiced, the scenes vanished. One after the other, the empty seats and the television sunk into the floor and before he knew it—he was standing in his adult form, facing the next door with the emblem of a star.

When Aramus stepped beyond the light of the gate, there was silence.

There was silence, and then a change of temperature. It felt rather cold compared to the heated environment he had been in. How strange. Was he even still in hell anymore?

Then there were voices.

“You left us †˜ehind, traitor,” a voice of a child echoed. It felt nostalgic to him. Very nostalgic, in fact.

Aramus couldn’t quite place the voice, did he have a student this young? He looked around, waiting for something to reveal itself. They did say that it was a trial but which one of the seven was it?

“Who are you? Show yourself!”

“Who… †˜re we?” Numerous voices of children echoed.

The white and empty space showed blackness, and in said blackness were shapes of urchins, vaguely recognizable.

“We don’t even know,” they said. The numerous voices laughed, ironically.

The floor started to burn with fire, and Aramus’ feet were already swathed in flames. Albeit they weren’t climbing up beyond his feet.

“You guys,” his voice was a whisper as realization slowly dawned on him. They had been his comrades once, a pack of street rats that came together to survive.

Aramus leapt backwards, for a blade cut through where he was standing.

It was Elizabeth, she was shrouded in scarlet flames with her relic sword in hand. A pair of demonic eyes shined and her expression was unlike anything he had seen before—true rage. Her dress was different, clearly, she was wearing something he saw her wear in the Queen’s Meeting.

“You, my mother, and all those aristocrats… laughing behind my back, looking down at me—no matter how hard I work and toil—I will burn you all away,” she roared.

Her sword dripped with fire and she sliced the air towards Aramus—spears of crimson spewed forth towards him.

“Elizabeth!” He barely gasped out as the blade grazed him, eliciting a small hiss of pain as it opened a wound in his flank. Aramus checked the wound, his hand coming away with blood. “Get ahold of yourself!”

“All of you see me as an enemy—a dirty, tainted girl—amongst the aristocracy for working with The Society, don’t you?!” Elizabeth cried, her eyes letting out tears of blood.

Her body was burning, quite literally. Her skin and flesh were devoured every moment. Even then, she blindly swung her relic blade at her teacher.

Her rage had clouded her once deft swordplay and Aramus weaved between the blows without harm.

“Elizabeth, it’s me,” he said to no avail, clicking his tongue as a slash nearly bisected him. “If I can just knock her out…” he muttered as he got up from his roll, sending a small ball of wind towards her midsection with Paimon’s fan as she charged at him.

The ball of wind was like a gentle breeze meant to simply knock the air right out of Elizabeth. It caressed the flames instead of her body, however. The flames burned and shone brilliantly as if oil was poured over the poor girl.

Elizabeth’s voice shrilled and she wailed louder as her body burned ever faster. Her hands dislodged due to the wrists being spurned, unable to carry the heavy sword. Elizabeth desperately looked down at her arms cut off, only now realizing that she couldn’t do any harm anymore.

The flames intensified, even though they weren’t supposed to, and Elizabeth started to melt down unnaturally as if she was made out of steel.

Aramus could see the burning and boiling puddle of blood, flesh, and bones resulting from the flames rendering her existence from this plane.

“Why… why! I tried so hard… mommy…” With those murmured words, Elizabeth vanished—no, died, leaving only said puddle behind.

Aramus froze, Paimon’s fan clattering to the fiery ground as he looked upon the result of his actions. His heart ached in his chest, mouth moving, but no sound came out at the realization that his prized pupil had been slain by his hand. Falling to his knees as strength left him, Aramus pounded his fist into the floor as the bottled up emotions of the past years came spilling forth.

His eyes burned with tears as he squeezed them shut, trying to block out the images that seemed to replay itself through his mind.

“Damn it, damn it!”

His fists were now smoking, a result of him punching the flaming ground in frustration and despair. He had come here to redeem himself, but how could he accept redemption even if he walked out with the relic sword after what he had just done this? How would he face the Duchess, Her Majesty or anyone else that knew him as Magister?

“Why does it always end like this!?” he howled, raw emotion in his voice.

“Because she was weak.”

Aramus looked up with his teary face, finding William John Frederick Powlett, wearing an evil grin before he stomped on the ground there Elizabeth’s remains were.

His smile twisted further as he looked down at both him and his student’s burned blood.

“The Society is strong. She couldn’t fit in among us. Straddling the fence on both sides—she couldn’t reach a decision. Ahahaha!! How pathetic!” Powlett held his forehead. “She should’ve obviously come over to our side, but she took too long. This is what happens to the weak, make sure you remember it.”

“You dare to run your filthy mouth, Powlett!?” Aramus snarled, his eyes ablaze as the despicable man before him trod on the memory of his student. “You—” Grabbing the fan off the ground, he sent a gale flying towards the object of his anger. The flaming ground burned brighter and stronger as the wind rushed, a violent orange typhoon.

“Next, we’ll cut the Quee-” Powlett tried to speak, but was cut and burned by the wind and flames.

Breathing ragged breaths, Aramus once more let his limbs go slack. He dragged himself over to where Elizabeth once was, kneeling down in sorrow. The blaze of anger hadn’t abated but the feelings of regret weighed more heavily in his heart. He strove to become strong; to be useful for the Queen; and to defeat The Society. Now it was an empty feeling, Aramus was drained of energy as he clenched his fists.

Powlett had only been one of them, the numerous members of The Society. Another would no doubt take his place given time. Duchess Margaret's words had hit home, the implications of being weak and deluded that he could do something had been correct. Why had he become strong? Was it to destroy what he perceived as evil? A simple desire for more power? Somewhere along the way, he had deluded himself into thinking that was the goal, the idea.

“What’s the point of growing strong if I cannot protect what is important to me…” Aramus murmured breathlessly.

As his wrath subsided and entered the state of mental exhaustion so did the flames extinguish. When he looked up from his sorry state, he found the same white space—where no remains of Elizabeth lasted—except that there was a door before him.

Aramus picked himself up as the gates opened. He could only move forward.

yeah, but i mean how often are these names spot-on as prediction? kek. names are almost always hopes i guess.

true true. this is the era of lazies after all

When the trip ended, Aramus fell on solid dry ground flatly with a loud thump. His clothes were slightly burned and he felt quite a lot of skin-burning heat. His body was still burning. The ground wasn’t any colder either. He looked up at his state and found Nicholas standing before him.

The teacher felt something heavy falling on his back. It was soft, however. Turning back with a cringe, he found Elizabeth sitting rather elegantly on his back.

“I-I apologize,” Elizabeth immediately said. She got off and dusted herself.

When Aramus got up, he looked down at his clothes, somewhat revealing his masculine figure, and then back to Elizabeth whose dress hardly looked rustled. How nice magical protection were… he felt jealous.

He then looked around. The environment almost made Aramus think they came deep into the ground of the Earth as there was a ceiling of stone. Beneath the block of rock they stood upon was scorching magma that glowed brightly. There seemed to be only one path to the east, and beyond that there were only rocky walls surrounding them.

“Your objective is the Laevateinn, correct?” Nicholas questioned.

“Yes,” Aramus said, getting up and dusting off some of the scraps of his clothes. Not that he expected much from the Infernal Realm, but it was quite the dreary place.

“Is your breathing alright?” he asked. “Don’t feel suffocating here, do you?”

“I don’t feel particularly bothered by the atmosphere, no.” Aramus shook his head. “Would there be anything else to look out for?”

“Well, you can’t stay in the Infernal Realm for long… you may not have noticed but your body is likely expending stamina to stay healthy in this atmosphere,” Nicholas stated calmly. “Basically, if you stay here long…”

“You will likely perish,” Elizabeth finished the sentence. “There is the saying that humans can only live in the human world and that demons should reside only in the demon world.”

“However, demons and the remnants of this Realm are superior, so they do not necessarily suffer there. Albeit, they do require human life to maintain presence in our world,” Nicholas explained further.

“Then we had best make this quick. I can’t die till Her Majesty gives me the †˜ok,’” Aramus said with a grin.

The three started walking east, guided by Nicholas who seemed to be familiar with the Realm.

They spent some minutes as Nicholas seemed to have made them wander around. They came across some evil entities, but the Archmage sliced through them faster than the naked eye could follow.

“...I can tell where Laevateinn is.” Nicholas looked towards the north as they faced a sea of magma beyond a cave. “It is beyond this sea of magma… and even farther than that.”

“Well that’s problematic,” Aramus said, giving his head a scratch in thought. “Any suggestions on how to get across?”

“I could part the sea but that wouldn’t be an ideal option,” Nicholas said with a sigh. “I could get across with Fiery Steps spell on my own, but I doubt either of you know it?”

“I do,” Elizabeth said, a little nervous. “But I am not very confident about crossing what seems like magma ranging more than five-hundred meters…”

Aramus clicked his tongue in annoyance, frowning at the magma. “Conservation of our mana is important… Are there any alternate paths to the blade?”

“Likely. We’ll have to find them,” Nicholas answered. “Which means we’ll have to traverse this maze,” he elaborated, gesturing towards the cave they just exited from behind.

“Hmm. I could technically fly across with the aid of my spells, but it is not something meant to be used for long distance,” Aramus mused.

“Which spell are we speaking of, specifically?” Nicholas inquired.

“Soaring Winds. Good for short distance but…” he trailed off, looking across the sea. “I’m not sure where this ends.”

“A CreoAurum spell, huh?” Nicholas considered it for a moment. “It’d require more than just concentration. However, with those vis you may power up its output.”

“That is fine,” Aramus said, taking out the pieces of vis from his pants. “They would be expended in a fight against demons or by simply remaining here.”

“Very well, I shall try my best,” Elizabeth said.

“If you’re sure, then I suppose there is nothing more to say. In the case that Miss Cavendish Bentinck falls, I shall retrieve her. I cannot catch two. So, don’t falter, Magister,” Nicholas said with a smile.

“I will endeavour to meet your expectations, Archmage,” Aramus answered with a smile, checking if there was anything on him that was loose before he took off.

“Then let us be off.”

With that, Nicholas took off with a trail of flame from his feet. The reason why the Fiery Step spell was useful for traversing over magma was due to the fire created beneath the feet to use like skating shoes meant for dancing on a rink. This would allow one to step on magma temporarily to use as a platform to leap forward without hurting oneself. Such leaping covered great distance too, so they were good for traveling when required due to emergency.

Aramus flipped a pawn vis into his hand, smirking at the tiny little thing. Drawing power from it, Aramus sent a burst of aurum out through his feet to launch him into the air, high enough from the magma that if the spell should fail, he would have time to do something. He began to follow after Nicholas, keeping an eye on Elizabeth below him.

A minute had passed as the trio flew across the searing hot airs above the magma, and Aramus heard a scream from his flank.

Elizabeth lost her concentration on her spell as she fell toward the magma, and of course the moment she hit it, it’d be her demise.

Aramus tried to move toward her but with the way his spell was set dead straight towards his destination, it was hard to steer right for her.

Luckily, Nicholas caught her as promised and successfully stepped over the magma with his spell before taking off, carrying Elizabeth like Aramus did when he had tried to save her life back in London.

Soon, the group landed on the other side, facing a cave.

Elizabeth repeatedly apologized to the Archmage for betraying his expectations.

“Well, for now let us be proud that we crossed this river,” Nicholas remarked, looking down at the magma behind them.

“Yeah, I’m glad that’s over,” Aramus remarked as he landed next to them, a little drained even with the aid of vis. That spell really wasn’t meant for long distances. “Are you alright?” he asked Elizabeth, looking her over for any injuries.

“I’m alright, yes…” Elizabeth looked down at herself, and felt rather powerless.

“Well, let us move on, shall we?” Nicholas already started walking into the cave, not caring for the tired ones at all.

The three traversed the grounds for some time, and it seemed like Nicholas knew exactly where to go despite there not being any real signs. He was indeed used to this place.

Eventually, they were crossing a staircase made out of what seemed like hard clay, leading themselves upwards.

“Who would’ve thought the Infernal Realms would have stairs…” Elizabeth commented. “Even I haven’t read about them.”

To the side beyond the railing, there was something akin to a large bonfire, and some winged eyeballs flew around it like flies. Pieces of flesh were being dropped from high above to the flame. Each time the slugs of filth made contact with the fire it enlarged momentarily, as if being elevated from the treat, and with each piece of flesh getting devoured; the trio would hear strange ephemeral screeches of demons.

“So uh, do you mind explaining to me what is going on? I know the Infernal Realm is different, but this?” Aramus said, gesturing to the weird ongoings around him. Honestly, those flying eyeballs were giving him the creeps as well.

“They are fallen demons,” Nicholas replied. He appeared perfectly composed to this strange situation. “They’re all like you, trying to win that thing—the Laevateinn. The leftovers are being burned off.”

“So the sword is within that flame?” Aramus asked, his face scrunching up in exasperation. “Well, it’s peculiar that even demons can be burned in hell...”

“Nope… the sword is hiiiigh above,” a different voice whispered into his ear, and Aramus turned, freaking out.

A young girl clad in a black one-piece was floating just beside him while eating an apple. He instantly recognized this person.

“Gah, don’t do that!” Aramus yelled at her as he backed up a little. He looked around for the reaper that always followed her, eyes darting left and right. “So, what brings you here this time?”

The demon known as Sasha still had her skull-faced comrade behind her and was pretty much the same as last time, wearing a dreary and bored expression.

Yet why was it that Aramus felt she was somehow amused?

“Just curious. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed me all this time. I even crossed the river with you,” Sasha said, acting depressed.

“Teacher… you know a demon?!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“...I thought she was a friend,” Nicholas stated, revealing that he had known of her. “She isn’t, or is she?”

“Hmm. That is a difficult question to answer indeed,” Aramus said, rubbing the tip of his chin with a finger. “Well, considering she could have done something very unsavory to me whilst I was flying but chose not to, I’ll leave it at that for now,” he said, grinning at the demon. “Still, say something next time! It’s really creepy when you just show up like that.”

“Well, I suppose if he is not †˜dealing’ with the demon, no harm done there,” Nicholas said, shrugging, watching the interaction between Aramus and the demon.

“B-But…” Elizabeth was about to say something but gave up. “You two are too lax.”

“Hearing that you guys want to challenge Asteria, I wanted to creep up on you so that it’d break your nervousness,” Sasha said with a similar grin. “I hear surprising humans helps them break out of stage fright.”

“Well, there’s that,” Aramus said, a little discomforted that a demon was showing him even a modicum of concern. “So who’s Asteria?”

“Huh? You dunno? Yet you came here for her sword… ?” Sasha asked, taking a bite of her apple. “You must be one of those idiotic humans,” she concluded while munching. “The top floor around here leads to the Constellation Chamber. The room beyond the Seven Gates is where Asteria lives. She beat Ereshkigal and took over the relic. The ancient tradition is that anyone can challenge the owner for the blade, so… yeah, that’s the short story.”

Sasha yawned out of boredom despite telling her story, and gave Nicholas a glance. It seemed like he had known about this all along.

“So the pieces of flesh flying down are…” Aramus muttered even as another piece streaked by. “Demons that are diced by Asteria? Suddenly I don’t feel all that comfortable about this.”

“That’s not even Asteria’s doing, unfortunately,” Nicholas stated in a matter-of-factly tone, bearing the bad news. “They’re all demons that failed a trial of the Seven Gates.”

Aramus’s face fell as he sighed. “Well, let’s just get it over with. I don’t want to dawdle here any longer than I have to if I can eat some American food once this is all over.” Though he had said as much, Aramus looked up to the source of the falling fleshy bits with distaste. “And Sasha, mind telling me where you fit in all this?”

“Fit in all this?” Sasha asked as she floated along with the rest.

“You’re doing this on a whim, aren’t you?” Aramus said, looking at the demon as they climbed the stairs.

“Heh. Why else would a bored demon come to talk to you?” Sasha grinned yet again. It felt rather unnatural when her usual face instilled with boredom gave such ominous smiles.

“Well then, you better get more of those apples to munch while you watch the proceedings. Won’t get in trouble with Asteria?” Grimacing in response to her grin, he had somewhat suspected the answer would be along these lines.

“Well, Asteria can be grumpy, but at the same time she can be nice. I think someone has to come with you out of worry, though. You never know, you might be more helpless than you think. Makes me want to watch over you,” Sasha said with delight. It was at the level of amusement one had when watching ants attempting to carry food too heavy for them.

Something like that.

Maybe.

However, Elizabeth found herself agreeing with a nod. How rare. “Indeed, you can’t help but worry about such people,” she remarked.

Mysteriously, an understanding was reached between a human and a demon.

“I know, right?” Sasha responded, giving a chuckle that sounded rather eerie.

“Well, that’s the charm of the poor,” Nicholas commented. “They do say that stronger people feel proud of protecting the weak.”

“Could you guys please!” Aramus said, throwing his hands up in the air. A little bit more of his scorched shirt fell away, dropping into the bonfire along the side with a sizzle. He had been watching the interaction with a mortified stare, but Nicholas’ comment was the final nail in the coffin. “Though, it’s not to say you’re entirely wrong,” he added in a voice that could barely be heard, quickly looking away afterwards.

The Archmage and Aramus’ scholar laughed while Sasha observed the expressions of the humans most curiously.

The three eventually climbed all the way up to the top of the spiral staircase.

Two hours were spent before they arrived to face a long gate. This gate was at least three times taller than any ordinary grand gate Aramus had ever laid his eyes upon.

“This is it,” Sasha stated, looking up to the emblem of the star in the middle of the door. “Beyond this you will find six other gates.”

“And beyond the Seven Gates is the Constellation Chamber… where Laevateinn is sealed,” Nicholas stated. “Along with Asteria, the Goddess of Stars. Unfortunately, each of us are on our own for these trials.”

“Alright then. Best of luck to everyone!” Aramus said with false cheer. “I don’t suppose you’ll need to go through these as well?” he asked Sasha, looking over his shoulder at her.

“Who knows?” Sasha said most ambiguously, and in the most uncaring manner with a jerk of her shoulders. “There is only one way to know.”

“Please don’t push me in,” Aramus said with a sigh. “Well then, I’ll see you on the other side. Once we make it back, I’ll get everyone something to eat. You as well, if you promise not to make a fuss.” He laughed at Sasha a little before returning his attention to the gate.

“I can’t quite come out of this Realm unless I get some nourishment,” Sasha said nonchalantly. “Unless you want to offer some?”

“Does that involve my soul…?” Aramus said, looking suspiciously at her.

“Letting me have a small bite could do,” Sasha replied, raising a thumb.

“Let’s discuss that later shall we?”

“So he’d consider that…” both Elizabeth and Nicholas whispered at the same time.

Nicholas palmed the gate and with a gentle push and it opened. Steam and wind gushed forth from the sliver of opening that formed, and it felt like forever as the entirety of the gates opened.

Beyond them was nothing but white.

“The trials follow the seven sins. I assume you know them?” Sasha asked Aramus while taking out a new apple.

“I’ll probably lose to gluttony or something…” he said miserably.

Sasha immediately took out an apple from her grim reaper behind her and offered it to him with a smirk. “Want one?”

“Nah. Maybe after the trials or fight when I’m a little more hungry but thanks for the offer,” Aramus said, refusing her offer.

“Tch, boring,” Sasha muttered, biting on that apple too. “Well, on your way you go.” Sasha waved at Aramus with her indifferent face.

When Aramus turned, it seemed like Elizabeth and Nicholas already went ahead, apparently tired of the two’s skit.

“See you in a bit then.” Stepping through the door, he bid her farewell.

After the discussion was over. Aramus and Elizabeth were treated to dinner by Christopher. Needless to say, it wasn’t anything extravagant that a noble such as Elizabeth would be used to, and nor was it comparably good to that of a three-star hotel that Aramus had recently had the pleasure of dining at. It was a simple restaurant serving Indian cuisine on the corner of the street outside of the headquarters of the MVA.

Like this, at least two hours had passed. Christopher made the pair walk inside an alleyway, upon which they strolled into an empty yard.

Aramus turned to inquire why they were brought here, but before he knew it—the Director of the MVA was long gone.

“It’s… a little eerie. For Uncle to leave us in this way…” Elizabeth commented, looking around. It was clearly an empty place with hardly any trash.

“Have faith in the Director, let’s wait a little while longer,” Aramus said, slightly on edge as well. The Director had fed him some good curry so he couldn’t be a bad person.

There were footsteps, and out came a man clad in black from the entrance of a different alley way.

This newcomer’s skin was impeccably white, and he wore a long black unbuttoned coat that ran almost all the way to his forelegs. Underneath was a white shirt, and a jet black pair of pants completed his getup. His hair was also black and long—tied in a ponytail—same as his pupils. He held a cigarette and exhaled before speaking:

“Are you two the ones seeking entry to hell?”

“That would be correct,” Aramus answered, stepping forward to address the man.

“You are… a little familiar,” Elizabeth stated, albeit in the darkness here in the yard, it was hard to confirm. It was now evening, after all.

“My name is Nicholas Bradley, pleased to meet you two, and Miss Cavendish Bentinck—this would be our first time meeting, but I am Christopher’s twin brother.”

“I… I see, so you’re Uncle’s brother. I did not know since you were apparently too busy to visit,” Elizabeth said, taken aback from meeting another Archmage so soon. Only the facial features seemed to resemble the exotic leader of the MVA. Otherwise, Nicholas seemed to have a rather slim build of a body, and his tone give him away as a more strict, proper, and intellectual person.

The Twin Archmages of America. The Twin Guardians. The two who protected the United States from the hoard of demons. They were in reality very respected and famous figures in the Magic World.

“That said, where is Christopher? I should let him have a piece of my mind for calling me back from the Infernal Realm. Does he know how rude it is? I almost thought I’d have to seek a new alternative,” Nicholas questioned with a tone making his irritation apparent.

“He left after telling us to wait here,” Aramus added, pointing a thumb over his shoulder at the dark alleyway. “My apologies for troubling you with this request.”

“Tch, so he ran away,” Nicholas grumbled. “Alright, moving on, I believe your scholar here is able to produce a pathway for us?”

“That would be correct,” Aramus said, gesturing to Elizabeth. “Although I am not entirely clear of the details on how, hence my meeting with your brother, the Director.”

“So she hasn’t mastered her family’s heirloom yet I assume?” Nicholas inquired.

“She will in time. Will it be a problem now?” Aramus asked, looking to Nicholas for confirmation.

“Not an issue. As long as she can cast it, I will take care of the rest,” Nicholas plainly spoke, as if dealing with the repercussions would be child’s play. “You can, yes?” he asked, facing Elizabeth.

“Yes, yes I can,” Elizabeth answered resolutely.

“Good.” The Archmage gave a nod. “So, how many vis do you have?” Nicholas asked Aramus.

“None unfortunately. Even as a Magister, it’s not something I’m able to afford,” Aramus said, looking abashed.

Nicholas stared at Aramus with the same inquisitive look as when he asked the question. He was literally frozen before finally calming down.

“Are you saying that you want to go to the Infernal Realm without vis?” he asked with incredulity. “Are you insane?”

“Well, I sure am not,” Elizabeth answered even though the question wasn’t directed to her. “I brought some along for myself. Fire aspected vis can be rather costly, however.”

Aramus squirmed under the man’s gaze. It was one thing to be told off, but when it was from someone as respected as an Archmage, you knew you screwed up. “I’ll manage… somehow,” Aramus squeezed out.

“You might not have studied up enough on the Infernal Realm to prepare for the trip,” Nicholas began. He wanted to say something that would possibly be insulting for a Magister but held it back. “But for those who do some research, it’s obvious that you cannot call forth the mana from other Realms inside there,” he explained in a manner befitting a cold teacher.

“My research was lacking. I will try not to burden us further.”

Nicholas sighed and tossed something at Aramus. The Magister caught the plastic bag. Unwrapping the bag he found stones, accessories, and all kinds of small items inside the pouch.

“They’re all objects infused with some mana. Basically, they’re vis. They’re cheap so use them as you see fit. They should have only Faerie Realm aspected mana. Considering they’re not very specifically attuned to the Forms, they may not be as effective as casting spells in this world, however.”


Aramus clutched the plastic bag, wrinkling the material. To have vis so casually tossed at him, even called cheap by Nicholas. The disparity was far too large.

“Thank you. It’s lucky I happen to use Faerie Realm magic...”

“Um,” Elizabeth began, “I believe my Uncle gathered and infused Faerie Realm mana just now, teacher.”

“I-I see,” Aramus said, pocketing the vis. He sorely wanted to throw his hands in the air and scream. Maybe another round of curry would help with his nerves.

“How observant of you,” Nicholas commented. “Indeed I had gathered some mana and distributed it as I spoke.” He then ran a hand across his black hair. “Shall we begin?”

Elizabeth looked at the two gentlemen, then gave a nod.

A sword formed and a bright flame was conjured before her palms after they were gathered before her chest.

This broadsword appeared facing the earth as Elizabeth held the hilt. There were golden carvings of an ancient Norse language.

The scholar then walked some distance away from the two and pulled her relic upwards, facing the dark night sky.

“O Surtr—the swarthy one—render the space and drink the essence of the Realm; forge a bridge to the Underworld for us to pass!” Elizabeth recited.

The sword was set ablaze with surging spiritual energy, and some of it spewed forth in all directions, making the two gentlemen step back. However, Elizabeth attempted to control the flames, and they converged into a spherical figure atop the blade.

The hellfire was soon in sight. It shined brightly, and was almost blinding. It was a flame with some traces of black but otherwise completely white.

“This is undoubtedly the rare hellfire. I must commend your scholar for being able to muster up such a thing… even if it is with the aid of her family’s relic,” Nicholas remarked.

“She is the pride of my class,” Aramus replied, the sentiments mirrored by the Magister.

Nicholas didn’t speak in return, but he knew by now that Elizabeth wasn’t as strong as her mother had been at her age.

“They’re coming,” he said.

Momentarily, the three heard echoing voices full of laughter. Black filth escaped from the fire and defiled the air of Earth. The demons from the Underworld sought freedom in this world, and more importantly, they sought the souls of humans.

However, they were all cut apart in a flash.

Aramus could only see Nicholas sheathing a blade with a faint noise. The scabbard was hidden behind his coat.

Nicholas stepped forward as if nothing had happened. “Let’s go. I hope you’ve braced yourself enough.”

Aramus nodded, swallowing the saliva in his throat with a gulp. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

Nicholas walked forward and vanished into the air.

Aramus noted that it was the use of flashstep. It was his turn now. He felt nervous, but he couldn’t dally now with Elizabeth holding the portal open. He too stepped forward and jumped into the hellfire.

Plunging himself into absolute darkness, Aramus could feel a surge of heat and flames licking all over his body. He grit his teeth through the ordeal, eyes shut in reflex. Cracking open an eye through the pain, he noted that the earring Her Majesty had entrusted him with was shining. Right, she was guiding him along as well. A Magister of hers would not fall so easily!

Aramus was in California together with Elizabeth. More specifically, San Francisco. Since taking the train seemed to be no good—according to Aramus—they opted for a plane. Elizabeth offered to pay for the expenses, but her benevolence could not be accepted by the teacher; hence Aramus paid painstaking prices.

Earlier yesterday, Aramus contacted the MVA and upon mentioning hellfires, the talk was smooth. He was granted an appointment with the commander-in-chief, Christopher.

The headquarters of the MVA was a rather normal building. It didn’t appear any special from the other company buildings across the neighborhood. Aramus and Elizabeth witnessed people clad in business suits coming and going through the entrance. Likely, most of these individuals were mages. Aramus could tell from the airs they could give off. It was purely a warrior’s instinct.

Entering inside, Aramus spoke with the receptionist, and the pair was soon led to the office room of Christopher.

Upon knocking on the door, there was a baritone voice from the other side beckoning them inside.

“Welcome, welcome,” the tall man with his well-built body cheerily spoke, finding Aramus and Elizabeth in his office. His skin was brown, making it apparent that he was of a different culture—possibly—in comparison to a native. Then again, all kinds of people were known to gather in America. “I had been very curious about you two. It’s good to see that you’re here safe and sound.” It seemed like the last sentence was directed to the young noble lady instead of the teacher.

“Thank you for having us, Director. I know you’re a busy man and I appreciate you making the time for us today. My name is Aramus Valmark, and this scholar under my tutelage is Elizabeth.” Aramus bowed slightly towards Christopher.

“Oh no, please. I hardly ever have visitors so it’s rather lonely here,” Christopher responded. In truth, he was always visited by people. Staff members who’d be reporting something bad. To be frank, he was tired of those types of visits. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Valmark.”

Holding opposing hems of her dress, Elizabeth gave a curtsy. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Uncle Bradley.”

“It’s nice to see you’re ready to fly off the handle like always, Elizabeth!” Christopher remarked.

Aramus observed the interaction between the two with interest, finding it a little surprising that Elizabeth greeted him more informally than she usually did. “She can be quite the handful from time to time, yes. A joy to teach nonetheless.”

“...Not as much as you, teacher,” Elizabeth immediately shot back with a remark of her own. She was a bright child, but a prideful one at that.

“I know, right?” Meanwhile, Christopher completely agreed with Aramus. “Challenging me to a duel right when I visit. She is so intent on battling, much like her mother.”

“T-That… was a long time ago. Please do not remind me of such events.”

Elizabeth was flustered as she looked away in shame while the Archmage laughed heartily.

“Would do you some good to spar against the Director though. I’m sure he would be interested to see how much you’ve progressed,” Aramus said.

“I could not possibly burden my busy Uncle with such an unreasonable requests. I am no longer a child.”

“Don’t be so cold,” Christopher commented. “Albeit, it is true that it’d be hard to make the time.”

“The burdens of growing up. Well then, maybe after this mess, there will be some free time before we return. At least spend some time together since you’re already here,” Aramus reasoned.

Elizabeth simply ignored Aramus and gave a certain look at Christopher, who could only smile wryly.

“Alright. Now that you two are here, I suppose we should discuss the matter. So far, I am aware that you intend to cross over to hell,” Christopher began. “However, we must be given proper information on the matter before we help, lest you wish to be arrested and interrogated by yours truly,” he added with a wink.

“I have no problem with that. It would be rude of me otherwise.” Aramus smiled in return. “What would you like to know?”

“What do you intend to gain from hell?” With this question, his tone and expression flipped and he appeared much more cold. “From what I know it is full of demons and is a dangerous venture. Not to mention you intend to take young Elizabeth here.”

“Redemption, Director,” Aramus said, returning his gaze with one just as serious. “I am tasked with retrieving a relic from beyond the gates, the sword Laevateinn. The quest was handed down to me from King Solomon, whom I met in the Faerie realm. I would like to reduce the amount of danger Elizabeth is exposed to as well. That’s why I’m here to see if there is a safer method of getting into hell.”

“Hm… I see that this is serious—with Her Majesty Victoria and the King involved. Very well, we’ll cooperate. I owe a debt to Her Majesty for not being able to help with the matter of Virgo, too.” Christopher gave one look to Elizabeth for a moment and then continued, “I’m afraid the Mistress of Cavendish Bentincks is your fastest option. Otherwise, we are not ones that usually bring forth the hellfires. The devil worshippers—the Diabolics are the ones committing the acts. I do not think they’d wish to waste effort helping you.”

“I didn’t know it was such an ordeal of this scale, however,” Elizabeth expressed, pouting. It was moments like these when she loathed her teacher for limiting the amount of information exposure after she’d expressly inquired about it.

“It’s just a retrieval mission, I don’t want to complicate it more than I have to,” Aramus replied, looking powerlessly at Elizabeth. “It’s already a selfish request of mine coming here and shamelessly asking for help.”

“But teacher, that is clearly beside the point…” Elizabeth insisted.

“Better than using a live sacrifice…” Aramus muttered as he looked away indignantly.

It felt like they were talking about two different things now, so Elizabeth simply fell silent, not knowing how to respond to the sentence.

“W...Well, ahem,” Christopher interrupted, trying to avoid the awkward atmosphere. “So, now that it’s come to this, I’m gonna call in a specialist to lead you guys through this †˜redemption’ ordeal.” He then took up a phone. “You two can rest easy because he travels across hell all the time.”

“Much appreciated, Director.”

Aramus looked expectant and eager to get the whole ordeal over and done with. Though he’d probably bake some muffins or cupcakes later for Elizabeth...

Among the audience of the underground halls was Claudia, all alone with someone named White Lotus. To make social matters worse, they had only just met about thirty-odd minutes ago.

Recounting the incident, Claudia had been doing nothing but recuperating back in the villa when the Countess came as suddenly as the wind and gave her a wonderful invitation to an †˜event,’ or so it seemed to the girl. The Countess described it as a †˜gathering of likeminded individuals.’ She also said that it was high time Claudia got to meet with the members of the †˜under’ society. These people worked and interacted with the black market, but were otherwise comprised of vampires, demons, devils, nymphs, and all kinds of Infernal creatures one would be able to think of.

A majority of the crowd here was not particularly strong, but they possessed wealth and other kinds of talents or abilities, and likely influence. This club was for the powerful, after all. It’d be wise to assume some held power of some form. However, interacting with them was a completely different matter. To begin with, these people were vastly different compared to humans. To make matters worse, the Countess didn’t accompany her on the trip.

Indeed, the Blood Countess of Hungary instead decided that Claudia was to be tossed down from the cliff as a lioness would its cubs. Metaphorically, it was up to Claudia to climb back up now. Thus she was put in a black car, and a man she had never met before drove her straight to the Bowery Ballroom—a quaint concert venue.

White Lotus was apparently the president of this elite-people’s club, and she was also tasked to introduce the happenstances and matters to Claudia that were otherwise common knowledge to the people of the underworld.

This esteemed lady wore an exquisite white dress of Victorian era design with a teal-color checkered pattern across her skirt. She wore a pair of black shoes and socks with the same checkered pattern. Her white hair was neatly kept, long, and straight.

As her name implied, she was white as far as looks went.

So far, seven young children had been auctioned. Claudia was given five million dollars by the Countess to spend on this auction.

Literally, her employer said she could do whatever she wanted with said money. It was apparently compensation for all the blood and tears she shed for the Organization so far.

Gazing upon the auction, Claudia couldn’t help but leer back to how disgusted she was with slavery, granted her experience so long ago. She wondered why the Countess of all people thought this was a good idea.

“But at the same time… I was always into stuff like this,” Claudia figured. “And then there was Cosette…” Jamming her hands into the pockets of her suit jacket, Claudia sighed, realizing something like this was her own doing, no less. She truly was beginning to become ironic.

Still, she would rather not get riled up on a night like this. Her arms and leg still ached from the fight with Aries. She never thought that she would regain control of her limbs so soon, or at all for that matter. As an afterthought, five million dollars? How many slaves did the Countess think she would buy? She wasn’t that gluttonous of a person.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Catherine…” Claudia grunted. She glanced over to a few of the auctioneers and furrowed her brows. She felt like she was in London all over again, being surrounded by such people. She couldn’t help but wonder what they would want a slave for, thinking the purpose would only be a disgusting one. “There I go, being ironic, again…”

Claudia adjusted her tie and black leather gloves with a sigh, lamenting the thought of this entire thing. At least she had an excuse to leave the villa after a little while. Taking a seat along what was called the premium chair, spreading her legs and resting her elbows along her knees, Claudia saw the same woman in white sitting right beside her, and hummed once she actually looked at her, getting a better look this time. Huh. She’s actually pretty cute…

“So is it me, or are the drinks here not even strong enough? I can’t drown my sorrows enough with just wine alone,” Claudia commented glumly, lacing it under the guise of another joke.

“What? You saying you can get drunk off blood?” White Lotus replied with a question, not really understanding if the girl was being sarcastic or something, but nonetheless she replied in the most honest manner possible.

Her so-called honest manner, however, included showing a really bored and perhaps annoyed expression. She didn’t bother to hide her face when disappointed, nor would she ever hide excitement.

Claudia shrugged. “Never tried, really. I’m only saying; something like this is… not really my forte. Forgive me for saying, but it only brings back bad memories.”

“Oh? Interesting. How many bad memories does Cosette get you?”

“Recently? Now that I actually thought about it? I kind of see myself in her… y’know, without the deadpan attitude.”

“If that’s the case then you’ve essentially seen yourself seven times tonight.”

Claudia chuckled. “Really wish I could deny that, ahahaha…”

How the fuck do they like this person over at the main group? “You sure would. I’m surprised you didn’t buy off a little boy or girl right off the bat considering that you sympathize with their fate.”

“Well… it’s not like I lack the money to do that…” Claudia figured, actually considering that. “But, what good will it do when slavery’s just commonplace in the under society?”

“Whatever good you can think of.”

“Why did I even have to tell you that” was basically what her face could be translated to. You lack the money, your employer doesn’t, however.

“That’s where it matters, I suppose,” Claudia said, feigning understanding, internally depressed from all this. I got half a mind to fuck everyone’s shit up in here and let all these people go… but I don’t have that much of a conscience.

On Delancey Street, Manhattan, Michael met up with Emilia before the Bowery Ballroom. The concert house held a rather European image. The designs reflected its name. It seemed like there were many guests tonight. As expected, most appeared to be the rich and wealthy, powerful individuals of the mundane society.

Emilia wore a red velvet gown, or so it seemed. She appeared fashionable, and would easily be mistaken for a rich man’s daughter.

“Let us review; we’re here for the White Lotus tonight,” Emilia said after the two distanced themselves a little from the venue. “There may be other targets showing up but we should ignore them till the main query is taken out.”

“Other targets?” He looked at her quizzically. “In any case, if we can tag them we could also hunt them later if possible. How do we know it is her?”

“There are possibilities of other vampires assisting in her shadowy chores.” Emilia almost forgot that Michael wouldn’t know all the traits surrounding the White Lotus. “As her name states, she appears to be literally white—she dresses in white, and has white hair.”

“A white-haired woman dressed in white, got it. Well then, good luck to us.”

“Before we part, please accept this.” Emilia handed him a dagger that was fashioned as a rosary.

“This is?” he asked as he took the strange weapon. He hung it where he’d usually attach his sword sheathe, which he did not bring today because it would be too conspicuous.

“I have casted magic upon it. It should allow me to detect your location. Since I have strong sensitivity to magic, I have an Arcane Connection to that knife so there should be no problem differentiating your presence from all kinds of magical interference.”

“Interesting, that’s actually pretty useful,” he said, touching the dagger at his hip.

“Of course, this means that I was right; there are some ominous presences around here.”

Michael used his sense to confirm the ominous presence but failed to confirm their numbers, or direction. “I will gain entrance to the venue now, and proceed in identifying probable suspects.”

Emilia gave a nod. The two then went different ways. The operation would now begin to find and exterminate White Lotus.

yeah, and i am an author like a bunch of other mangos, but kanji is indeed complicating shit

too lazy

not like i dont sympathize with the author though. i myself name my characters based on the concept too sometime

its something slacker-inducing. hue