#102 The Center of Chaos Comprising the Universe, Yggdrasil
At the heart of the chaos comprising the universe stood Yggdrasil. From Yggdrasil extended seven branches toward the heavens and seven roots delving underground. After eons of chaos gave birth to all things and endless time flowed by, self-awareness awakened in each of those roots. And their names were thus:
The Ruler of the Firmament, Lucifer.
The Ruler of the Great Ocean, Leviathan.
The Ruler of the Void, Lilith.
The Ruler of Thunder, Mammon.
The Ruler of Bronze, Behemoth.
The Ruler of Crimson Flame, Belial.
The Ruler of Illusory Dreams, Asmodeus.
"Too hard to memorize. Can't we just call 'em Root One, Root Two?"
"Guess not."
"They must've been going through puberty when they named themselves."
Just as the roots had birthed selves, so too had the branches. But relations between them were far from amicable. The arrogant branches and destructive roots regarded each other as mortal enemies, despite springing from the same tree. Even as the seeds of roots and branches multiplied over time, nothing changed.
Unable to stand it any longer, Yggdrasil intervened between branches and roots, creating a vast paradise between them. That paradise was none other than the human realm, Eden.
After Eden's creation, countless wounded species from the wars between roots and branches fled there. From that day forth, the world named the hills risen from underground roots the "pits of fire," and the fortresses built in the heavens by the branches the "hanging gardens."
"Memorizing this crap is a nightmare. Can't we just say Root Country, Branch Country?"
"Guess not."
"Tsk tsk. Way too obsessed with appearances."
"Ahem… anyway."
The seeds of roots and branches could set foot on Eden's soil only with its permission. But the primordial seven branches and seven roots borrowed Yggdrasil's power to traverse Eden freely. This passage later became known as the Abyss.
Beneath the branches' Abyss, humans who praised their existence settled and built cathedrals. But the roots' Abyss mostly appeared like ghosts, vanishing without a trace. Humans deemed these mirage-like Abysses unclean and dubbed them Marcus Circles.
"Tsk. Why couldn't they just plant one demon-summoning circle in place instead of flitting around like spineless cowards? No wonder they got treated like filth."
"Listen to this half-grown gargoyle spout nonsense. Those branches—the utterly detestable angel bastards to begin with…"
"Ugh, enough! So boring! No fun, no feels. I'm off to catch crickets—way more exciting!"
Yaong shrieked and bolted from the room without a backward glance.
Catherine didn't scold Yaong's attitude. She simply leaned back against her chair. I was one yawn away from nodding off myself.
"Familiars turn arrogant if you indulge them. Give 'em a good scolding and some proper training. Or if it's a hassle, leave it to me. Teaching pet monsters is the butler's duty, isn't it?"
The man who had droned on with a tedious lecture for the past hour smiled faintly.
Catherine yawned expansively and shook her head. "Pass. How long do I have to sit through this fake class? My back's killing me from all this sitting."
"A joke, of course. A body forged by an archdemon doesn't tire from something so trivial."
Don't you know what a figure of speech is? Catherine narrowed her eyes in protest, and the man sighed as if helpless.
"If you're that set on it, why not lie down for the lesson? I'll teach as gently as a lullaby for a babe. Let's see… just another 6,666 hours, and no one'll dare call you a dumb demon…"
"You nuts?"
"Haha. Mad? Me? I'm handsome, sure, but also clever, kind, rational—a truly, utterly, exceedingly splendid butler!"
His smug grin didn't inspire much gratitude. He's totally gotten into this butler role.
Vivid green cropped hair that drew the eye. A brazen, cheeky demeanor to match. A smile radiating pure delight. Gleaming white teeth, and a voice that grated on her nerves. Outwardly, he looked like some gum-chewing lout ready to hawk a loogie. But his true identity was the demon, Dantalion.
"Now then."
Dantalion snapped his fingers lightly, and Catherine's chair reclined straight back into a makeshift bed. Suddenly staring at the ceiling, she showed not a flicker of surprise.
Dantalion was stubborn. No point running—he'd just drag her back. Better to pretend and nap.
"Shall we continue? Since you're bored, just nine more hours today. Hmm. Where was I? …Ah! So those blasted angels…"
How did this weed-headed nightmare butler end up in my house?
Catherine stared at the dusty old ceiling fixture in the parlor, sifting through her memories.
One week ago. The day she inherited the Void's dominion.
Even though the outcome was the polar opposite of what she'd intended, she strove to stay calm. She'd weathered plenty of rotten luck in life. If you can't change it, accept it—that was Catherine's creed.
Ugh.
Writhing on the basement floor in inexplicable agony, she finally vomited up something pitch-black. Too dark for blood, too heavy for liquid. It scattered across the floor and evaporated into thin air.
Regaining her composure, Catherine realized it was the fragment of soul from Chezare. The contract binding them had shattered completely.
Like pulverized glass. Not even shards left. Utterly obliterated.
"Get a grip, my liege."
How long had she lain frozen on the floor? At the magic circle's chiding, Catherine blankly lifted her head. An extreme void gripped her—no tears even possible.
"The liege of this Marcus Circle does not kneel. If you've nothing better to do, get up and fix the part of my body you erased. With red ink."
The contract with her eternal demon companion severed, Catherine was alone again.
"From now on, you are the Void's Ruler. Bear the dignity it demands."
Alone's familiar.Yeah, familiar.
Familiar enough not to mope. She'd live over a thousand years—better to stay positive.
Reincarnation has limits, but as an archdemon, I can see Chezare longer. That's a win.
Plus, they shared archdemon status now. Stronger, so no burdening him. …Can't get much more positive than that. Close enough.
Catherine rose slowly, fetched red ink from upstairs, and meticulously redrew the magic circle as Marcus Circle demanded—filling in spots she'd once scrubbed like a mop.
"Fill below too. It itches where it's gone."
Itches? You feel that, magic circle?
"With the true liege absent, maintenance fell into dire neglect. Other demons dared sneak to the Abyss's entrance and mess things up. No more, now."
Good to hear.
Ordering her liege around was cheeky, but Catherine drew diligently. This demon-summoning circle was hers now—best to care for it.
What now? Future's pitch black.
Despite her words, her schedule was packed. The Continental Peace Maintenance Conference loomed in days—she had to torment Charles Kilholder there. Protecting the now-unshielded mansion was urgent too. Snag guardian artifacts from Giovanni or whatever.
Emerging topside, a bleary-eyed Demian awaited. He'd woken from the bone-chilling aura.
"Obviously the basement circle. What happened down there? Call Chezare?"
Catherine shook her head. "He won't come here anymore."
"Pardon? Why?"
No reason to. She patted his shoulder instead.
"Thanks for everything, Demian. Head to the Imperial Palace at dawn. Think hard on joining House Panya. Don't keep Grandma waiting forever."
"Sudden boot? Cursing me every way now."
Demian grumbled back to his room, then geared up and hit the garden. "I'll finish today since you hate me. Perfect garden by tomorrow!"
True to his boast, the garden gleamed by noon next day. Absurd he'd dragged out a one-day job. Still, he lounged blissfully, no sign of leaving.
"Demian. When're you going?"
"Where?"
"Back to the palace."
"Don't wanna."
"Go."
"Don't wanna."
"Get out!"
"Nope."
This contrary fool. As she glared, wondering how to evict him, Demian vented with a wounded pout.
"Miss, dunno what went down with you and Chezare, but society's brutal. No sweeter gig than this in that harsh world. I'll serve out my days. Don't try kicking me out, 'kay?"
Demian clung like a leech, ranting "Protect workers! Down with evil bosses!" till she yelled he'd pissed off Roze or something. Then quiet.
Trouble followed: an unknown visitor rang the bell.
"Who is it?"
A towering man loomed beyond the bars—taller than with Chezare, easily 190cm. His vivid unfamiliar green hair screamed caution.
The man smiled neatly. "I'm Dan, your new butler starting today."
"Wrong house. Never hired a butler."
He blinked, then clapped with a gasp. "Oh! And my 'Dan' is from Dantalion. Neat and intellectual, right? Used it 900 years."
Dantalion.
Catherine felt her racing heart chill under faint wariness. Green hair and rat face—the worst combo.
But she couldn't coldly dismiss him.
"I told you, didn't I? Your mother won't accept your choice."
He was the only one, besides Chezare, who knew her true nature.