Chapter 81
A long arm shot out from the pitch-black curtain, seizing Catherine's chin. Moments later, Mars emerged, his upper body completely bare. Scars of varying lengths crisscrossed the menacing bulges of his shoulders and chest. The blue eyes looking down at her were arrogant yet languid.
"You don't look all that useful."
Her chin ached under his brutish grip. He scrutinized her face thoroughly before finally releasing her and asking, "Who sent you? Asmodeus? Belial?"
It was my mother, she couldn't exactly say. So Catherine racked her brains boldly. It seemed invoking his true name had branded her as a minion of another archdemon.
"I'm just one of the ordinary mages who admires the Captain."
Even as she said it, she knew it sounded suspicious. The moment Mars's eyes narrowed—
A sharp spark flared right in front of her eyes and vanished. It was a light laced with subtle repulsion. Catherine knew this sensation all too well: the feeling of magic targeting her being nullified by her magic nullification.
"A nephilim for real."
Tsk. Mars clicked his tongue in what sounded like mild regret. Catherine was dumbfounded.
'Did he just try to kill me again?'
She'd nearly lost this life pointlessly. The thought sent chills down her spine. Mars showed no inclination to grant her mercy—whether time or life.
Don't show fear. He's just 600-year-old Cesare, a kid by comparison.
Catherine steadied her faltering breath.
"Hey, nephilim."
With a cold voice, Mars bent his knees and crouched down. His gaze treated her like no more, no less than a bothersome mouse.
"I'll give you one more chance. Bullshit me again, and you're dead. What are you here for?"
Was there even a way to avoid death right here? 'Even if I die now, I still have my third life.' But repeating this would only erode Mars's trust. That left one option: deceive him with an irreversible lie. And ideally, in the most provocative area where she was least likely to be caught.
"I can see the future."
And against Mars, all she had was knowledge from 600 years ahead. Catherine widened her eyes in an expression of revealing her lifelong secret.
"To be honest, Captain Mars will become the emperor of the Iterana Empire, the one with the vastest territory on the continent in a few years. I saw that future and came to find you."
A brief silence hung in the air. At its end, Mars's reaction was plain.
"Hah."
He let out a dry laugh, like sand blowing over a desert. But it was so fleeting, as if it had never happened, his face returning to blank impassivity.
Mars asked, "How do you know my true name?"
"I saw it in the future."
"How'd you get a body that won't die?"
"I was hit with a horrific curse from my mortal enemy."
"Why bother me?"
"To follow the back of the exalted one you'll become and get revenge on that enemy."
Wow. Catherine was genuinely impressed with herself for spinning lies so smoothly. I might have a knack for scamming.
Unlike Catherine, whose confidence was surging, Mars had been bored and listless from the start. Quick-witted as she was, she retightened her grip on the tension she'd briefly released at his indifferent response. He won't stab me with his sword for talking nonsense, right?
Mars drawled slowly, "In the future you saw, where was I, and what was I doing?"
Catherine pictured Cesare. No need to lie this time; she could just speak truth from her knowledge.
"The future Captain makes a contract with a red-haired woman around twenty in the Iterana Empire. After that, he sails a massive ship cruising the seas, crashes other people's weddings, and lives days full of fun and fulfillment."
Saying it made her miss Cesare. He could be a bit playful, but he was always gentle with her. Now, he was her only family in her solitude. And to think this pitiless madman's future was her one and only demon, Cesare Christopher. From now on, she'd overlook whatever misdeeds Cesare committed. At least better than Mars, she'd think, and any urge to scold him would vanish.
The pity was that Mars's questions stopped there. His reaction was chillingly cold, embarrassingly so. From his icy eyes, it seemed her lengthy self-defense hadn't swayed him a grain of rice.
"Quite the entertaining bullshit. For someone scared, your tongue's pretty lively."
Catherine mustered courage to retort, "It's not a lie."
Mars ignored her protest as if it were nothing.
"I admire that cheek. So I'll have you do 'anything' you want."
But contrary to her worries, the final outcome wasn't bad.
Should I be happy about this or not?
She hadn't earned Mars's trust, but she'd succeeded in getting "anything" in exchange for trust. Halfway there—good enough to relax, right? Catherine straightened her posture and listened to Mars's next words. What command would he give?
Mars said, "Go feed the collared Demon King. Refusal... you know what happens?"
A glass sword flew from nowhere and embedded itself right in front of her nose.
Weeeing. The sword in the floor emitted a menacing hum. Mars warned in a voice dripping with murderous intent.
"Refuse, and you die by my hand again."
......Well.
"Don't worry, Captain! I'll treat feeding the Demon King like my lifelong calling and work hard at it!"
Survive first, worry later. Catherine flashed a cheerful smile and pumped her fist.
That late night, an unfamiliar knight came for Catherine. He said he was in charge of guarding the Demon King and had come to fetch her on Mars's orders. Catherine followed him to the carriage transporting the Demon King.
The knight handed her a golden key and a small orb, one each.
"What's this?"
"This opens the prison door. The orb is something the Captain made. I'm no mage, so I don't get the theory, but they say swallowing that gem fills you up like a meal and replenishes nutrients. Magic sure is amazing, huh?"
Mars was as all-purpose as ever, past or present. Catherine peered carefully at the orb, which looked expensive at a glance.
"Isn't this valuable? Seems a waste to use on someone about to die."
"A starved, gaunt look might stir pity. Dressing them up spiffy for the execution stand avoids that."
He even considered details like that. The knight continued firmly, "Above all, it's the Captain's order."
She felt it every day, but the trust these people had in Mars was immense. No wonder the empire he founded endured 600 years strong.
"Feed the orb and come right out."
The knight cautiously opened the carriage door. Inside was a staircase descending underground—impossible for a normal carriage. Of course a Demon King transport isn't ordinary.
As he helped Catherine climb in, the knight warned, "No matter what the Demon King says, don't be swayed."
The door shut, plunging the world into a starless night. Catherine descended the stairs before her into the depths. The path was long, taking about five minutes to reach the destination.
The Sixth Demon King was imprisoned at the underground's end, beyond stark iron bars. Arms and legs sealed to the walls, eyes and mouth covered in black cloth.
Demon King feeding duty, huh. Living sure lets you try all sorts of weird stuff.
With Mars's protection here, there was nothing to fear. Catherine unlocked the bars with the key and stepped inside. The space was so silent that every footstep echoed off the walls in deep, eerie resonance.
Catherine slowly lowered the cloth over the Demon King's mouth. Beneath a sharp nose, lips fine enough for a woman curved gently.
"I've waited so long for you. You're late coming to me."
What the—? Catherine paused, recalling the knight's warning.
'Ah. That's what he meant by not being swayed.'
Acting so friendly, almost like I was the Demon King's secret little sister. Definitely heed advice from veterans on dangerous jobs.
Catherine took out the allotted orb and pressed it firmly to the Demon King's smooth lips. The Demon King swallowed it obediently without fuss.
"Did you volunteer to take my feeding shift? Entrusting this to a stranger—he's testing you."
Stranger. The Demon King knew she wasn't part of the subjugation squad.
"Mars cares for nothing... yet you approached him first? Volunteered for this danger? Why?"
Guessed that much from a few clues?
'Am I the idiot, or is the Demon King a genius?'
An unsettling presence. Catherine ignored her again, picking up the cloth from the floor.
"Ah. You need this subjugation squad's—no, Mars's—trust? He doesn't trust easily. Clever."
Oh. ......Oops. She pursed her lips to stifle the unintended exclamation. Too late to take it back.
The Demon King smiled softly, lips curving.
"Do you need Mars's power? Or do you simply admire him?"
As Catherine moved to cover the mouth again, a sudden question halted her.
'The Demon King contracted an archdemon. Maybe she knows where Lilith is.'
The dilemma didn't last. Catherine parted her tightly shut lips.
"Demon King. Who was the archdemon you contracted with?"
A short silence fell. Soon, the Demon King's lips curved again.
"You know Mars isn't human. And you even know his true name?"
No admiration left now.
'Not mind-reading, surely.' Even if so, Mars's magic on these bars would block it.
The Demon King's inspired guesses didn't stop.
"Your goal seems to be finding another archdemon, not Mars. Who is it?"
A voice smooth as honeyed words, probing the psyche and drawing out secrets naturally.
"Tell me. The demon you seek might be the one I contracted."
Demian might've fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. ......Or pretend to, and turn the tables. Not a bad play.