#067 What Was I Doing.
Catherine seriously pondered the question. According to her last memory, she'd been reading a book in her room. And she hoped that was true. If she'd collapsed in view of the servants outside, it would've worried her grandmother and the knights for sure.
Hah. It was already the second time. She hadn't even wanted it, but she'd been dragged here twice now.
"Long time no see, everyone."
This was the Abyss. The unknown space existing between Eden, the land of life, and the demonic inferno. A realm only Archdemons could enter—and Catherine had been pulled into it once again.
"Belial, Behemoth, and..."
A brief silence hung in the air. The speaker continued in a resigned tone.
"Leviathan. Spare me that fierce look."
"If you called me here for some trivial reason, I'll turn you into confetti on the spot, Asmodeus."
Why am I here? Catherine huddled tightly behind a rock.
Chezare, in his true form as an Archdemon, was as wild and merciless as he'd been on the Lilith Ship. None of the human emotions she'd known from him colored his voice.
"Not trivial, so no need for you to tear me apart. Lucky for me."
"Hmph... Look, Asmodeus. Cut the chatter and get to the point. I don't have time to flirt around with you lot here."
"In the middle of dinner, Belial?"
Asmodeus, ruler of illusions, and Belial, ruler of crimson flames. Catherine held her breath at the familiar yet deadly names. All of them gathered in one place?
Right before her eyes, something utterly unimaginable was unfolding.
"Yeah! I was in the middle of happily hunting those cardinals on pilgrimage. Getting yanked here must've startled my cute contractor..."
Catherine peeked cautiously over the rock. Four figures loomed in the darkness. They sat around a massive table adorned with red roses, as if sharing a meal.
Chezare sat with his back to her, while the vaguely visible faces belonged to a strikingly beautiful woman and a white-haired old man in uniform.
"Who's missing?"
This voice felt somewhat familiar to Catherine.
Behemoth's voice. So that means Chezare, Behemoth, Belial, and Asmodeus are all here.
As someone versed in demonology, this moment felt like a dream to her. If these four combined their power, destroying the world would be child's play.
The old man—Asmodeus—sipped his wine before answering.
"Three out of the seven are absent."
"Hmm. Looks like the four of us here have something in common, don't they? Right, Asmodeus?"
"Indeed. I've only invited the Archdemons who have contracted with humans today."
Demons contracted to humans.
Chezare mentioned there were two more contractors besides me and Percival.
Apparently, they were Asmodeus in the old man's form and Belial as the beautiful woman.
Belial covered her mouth and giggled at Asmodeus's words. She leaned in, peering intently at Chezare across from her, and whispered.
"Incredible... truly incredible, Leviathan! You, with a human? How many millennia has it been? Didn't you choose death because life bored you?"
"I did."
Belial stretched her upper body across the table, scrutinizing Chezare's face.
"My goodness. There's life in your face now, Leviathan. You look positively thrilled."
"Get your mug out of my face."
"Oh dear. So prickly."
Mug...? Chezare's demonic speech patterns were still foreign to her.
"Is Belial the oldest one here?"
"Old? Oh, please. Such a human way to put it."
Belial continued with a pouty expression. She somehow reminded Catherine of Fontpado Madam.
"Among us, Asmodeus and Leviathan are the oldest. And right after them comes yours truly, Lady Belial."
Blowing a seductive kiss toward Behemoth, Belial turned back to Asmodeus.
"So? What's the reason for summoning us?"
"It has to do with why Behemoth was summoned by the humans of the Papal Court."
"Papal Court? Behemoth, have you no pride?"
"To find Lilith."
Behemoth's voice carried an unmistakable undercurrent of fury. Belial tossed her long black hair over her shoulder and let out a hollow laugh.
"You're one tough cookie. Still haven't given up? Lilith is dead. She didn't even choose a successor for her power, so now a bunch of amateurs are squabbling over her empty throne..."
Kwang! At that moment, a blue horn erupted from the floor, smashing through the table and hovering threateningly beneath Belial's chin.
A short silence enveloped them. Belial spoke without losing her smile.
"Oh my? Are we fighting now?"
Behemoth warned in a low, sunken voice.
"Don't speak of Lilith's death so lightly."
"Hah? A newbie who just inherited power, giving me orders?"
As their voices rose, the hitherto silent Asmodeus stepped in to mediate.
"Enough, Belial. He's young, as you said. No need to provoke him."
"Who provoked him? The younger they are, the more they need to taste bitterness...!"
He patted Belial's shoulder as she started to rise from her seat.
"Calm yourself. Unless you want Leviathan tearing you apart."
"...Hmph!"
At the mention of Chezare, Belial instantly composed herself, as if nothing had happened. Catherine felt an odd sense of déjà vu.
It reminded her of the Panya knights scolding her as a child for playing outside late at night.
'Hurry inside and go to bed, miss. If you wander too late, the monsters from Abyssland will kidnap you! They're terrifying.'
Was Chezare some kind of bogeyman among demons?
After a long silence, Chezare finally spoke.
"Continue what you were saying, Asmodeus."
"Very well. It seems the Papal Court has allied with 'It'."
Whatever 'It' was, the Archdemons' reactions were chaotic.
"'It'?"
"No way..."
"Is the intel solid?"
Amid the clamor, Chezare's skeptical question cut through. Asmodeus nodded gravely—too serious for a joke.
"Yes. But before I go into details... it seems a little rat is eavesdropping."
A sharp gust of wind from somewhere grazed Catherine's ankle. She shivered as chill crept up from her toes.
Instinctively, she tried to step back, but for some reason, her body wouldn't move.
At that instant.
"Which of the remaining three is it? If you're here, at least say hel—"
Asmodeus's voice rang right in front of her. Catherine looked up without thinking.
And froze. Vivid purple eyes glared down at her, twisted in rage.
"...A human?"
She's dead. An unprecedented, raw terror overwhelmed her.
But the fear lasted only a moment. The world lurched, and the scenery flipped in an instant.
Catherine lay in bed, book clutched in one hand. Back in her room at Panya.
"Did it see?"
Someone was pinning her down. Catherine blankly gazed up at the face.
His usually neat silver hair was half-messy, and tension she'd never seen filled his cobalt eyes.
"Huh?"
"Did it see your face?"
Chezare's voice was as rigid and cold as the Abyss itself. He gripped her wrist tighter and asked again.
"Answer me."
"...I didn't look on purpose."
Chezare stared down at her face for a long while. Catherine let out a long inward sigh of relief. Realizing it was Chezare, not Asmodeus, brought a flood of reassurance.
Chezare slowly rose and stepped off the bed.
"That's... worrying in its own way."
Catherine quietly sat up as well. Chezare ran a hand over his dry face and settled into a nearby chair. He was in a perfect three-piece suit—likely in the middle of some external business.
Catherine asked Chezare cautiously.
"Chezare, shouldn't you head back to the Abyss?"
"I shattered the connection. If it's urgent, they'll summon me again soon... You too, most likely."
"Is it that dangerous if they find out about me?"
Will the Archdemons try to dissect me like some mad mage?
Chezare lifted his bowed head. Even with Panya as the backdrop, seeing him seated in her room felt strangely awkward.
"How could it not be dangerous? The Abyss is a space accessible only to Archdemons. A mere human entering it means you could covet their power and authority. You're a natural predator to them. That's the nature of the Abyss."
He rose again and sat beside her on the bed. If she wasn't imagining it, a faint unease emanated from him.
Chezare, feeling anxious? The one even Archdemons couldn't trifle with?
"Simply put, it weakens my justification for protecting you. There are only seven Archdemons, but contractors can be replaced at will."
"So you're going to replace me?"
She knew he wouldn't, but she asked anyway. Seeing his uncharacteristic anxiety made her want confirmation.
Chezare denied it with an utterly absurd expression.
"As if. Justification means nothing to me. I can just crush them with raw power. I'm just worried they'll try to lure you away when I'm not around."
His eyes held genuine concern. Catherine felt guilty, even though it wasn't her fault.
She should've held her breath or something.
"Sorry. I never meant to become your weakness..."
"Weakness?"
A large hand drew her wrist closer. Soon, his warm palm enveloped the back of her hand completely, gripping it firmly.
Chezare now held her hand casually. Catherine felt embarrassed but didn't dislike it.
"Let me say it again, Catherine. I have no weaknesses. Asmodeus might be a hassle, but Belial, Behemoth... they're nothing but a snack to me."
It was reassuring, yet paradoxically self-contradictory. Did Chezare realize how inconsistent he sounded?
"You're worried they'll lure me away? If that's not a weakness, what is?"
Chezare fell silent. His face twisted into an expression of extreme confusion she'd never seen before. Who knew the ever-composed Chezare could make such a face?