The Grimoire of Lust Awakens
The word itself was a curiosity worth pausing over.
Grimoire. The French term for a magic tome. Though rarely spoken aloud, it appeared constantly in works of fiction.
It was the original name of this very world, too.
I had once believed it belonged only to the game Grimoire, but now the line between “game” and “world” had blurred into something far more dangerous. I could no longer say which came first.
At its core, however, the very concept of a game revolving around a magic tome made perfect sense here.
Seven grimoires inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins. Pride. Greed. Wrath. Gluttony. Lust. Envy. Sloth.
They were not mere artifacts. They were the very backbone of mana itself—the fundamental force that powered the entire world.
In a sense, they were the most powerful artifacts one could possibly imagine. The individuals who had once held them… well, among the mages I knew, they ranked among the greatest monsters the entire continent could produce.
One did not have to look far. The Grimoire of Pride rested with the Ice Demon of the North Sea, the Grimoire of Greed belonged to the Green Dragon Tiamat herself, and the Grimoire of Wrath was in the hands of the Black Dragon. All of them were on a level with Douglas, or beyond.
The game Grimoire had been built around one of those grimoires. A protagonist—Eiden Cashmil—claiming it and then steering the story from there. The exact tome chosen determined the branching paths of the plot, yet that detail had never mattered to me before.
Because I was Isaac Havertz now. I was not the player controlling the original protagonist.
“…Grimoire,” Lottie murmured, almost as if tasting the word for the first time.
Her eyes had widened for a split second when she said the title, as though she had expected something else. But then she shook her head once, as if correcting herself. “No, that’s not it. It’s the seven grimoires spreading through this world.”
Still, I should keep it in mind.
I narrowed my eyes slightly and studied her. Her expression was as serious as mine, and a faint tension lingered in her posture. Whatever Lottie was about to reveal carried weight for her as well.
I gave a short exhale. “Netzach. What is the thing he holds?”
She pressed a hand to her chest and let out a quiet sigh of relief. “The Grimoire of Lust.”
“…”
“As I thought. You knew.” She nodded, as if that confirmed something obvious. “Of course. Anyone at the eighth circle would know at least that much…”
Lottie’s tone had warmed noticeably. I felt the pieces clicking into place inside my own mind.
Confirmed. She was speaking of a grimoire. More specifically, the one Netzach had once possessed.
I stroked my chin, letting memory surface. The Grimoire of Lust had never appeared in the original game. Not even in the ninth chapter, where Lottie awakened as the Blood Witch and began to threaten the world’s collapse.
Three grimoires in total had been hidden until that point. Envy, Lust, and Sloth. Gluttony was still missing, likely still sealed beneath the main temple of the Heavenly Church.
The game’s final chapter had never revealed the full roster of Sephirot, and three of its central plot devices remained concealed even at the end.
It proved, beyond any doubt, that this world was far more than a collection of graphics and code.
Whenever I recalled the days before my transmigration, the temples in my head throbbed with pain. But I had endured. The old me was gone. In his place stood Isaac Havertz, and the guilt that had once consumed me had been purged long ago.
I reset the mental gears.
No matter. One of the unseen grimoires had belonged to that man—Netzach.
Lottie continued, her voice growing steadier. “I don’t have much time either, so I’ll be direct. Isaac, after the new students’ welcome banquet in five days, I need you to stay close to me.”
“The new students’ welcome banquet?”
My tone sharpened slightly. That was exactly when the first chapter of the original game was meant to unfold in earnest.
A silver-haired girl flashed before my eyes for a heartbeat.
Lottie’s expression tightened as she forced the words out. “Netzach plans to strike then. He’ll probably drag a few young ladies into his mess.”
“…”
“I know it sounds unbelievable, but I’ve always kept my distance from that guy. More than that—I'm almost certain we’ll end up covered in blood together.”
I recalled the Grimoire of Lust again. The Wings of Sephirot plotting at the welcome banquet, and Lottie’s repeated warnings about “young ladies” suffering.
I scowled without meaning to. The image was already vivid in my mind.
Each grimoire channeled its own unique source of power. Tiamat’s Grimoire of Greed could draw infinite mana from a single dragon heart. The Ice Demon’s Grimoire of Pride turned a warrior’s strength into something absolute within the frozen north. So what did the Grimoire of Lust do?
If its owner—Netzach—chose to wield it without restraint…
“Disaster,” I muttered.
Obvious. Lottie’s face remained troubled, yet her words were already decided. I glanced toward the restaurant where Lottie and Elena were waiting, enjoying the Eastern dishes I had promised to join.
“Lottie.”
Her name left my lips in a calm tone meant to calm her racing heart.
“Y-Yes?”
She looked up at me. I asked again, voice level. “You said you don’t know Netzach’s true identity.”
“…That’s right. Unfortunately, the only person alive who knows the Wings’ true faces is Kether.”
“So neither of you knows the other’s true self?”
“Exactly.”
Lottie gave a small, slightly puzzled nod. I could tell she still didn’t understand why I was asking.
I lifted my gaze to the clear blue sky. A day like this rarely called for dark thoughts, yet I needed to ask anyway.
“If you truly understand his plan, then I’ll believe you.”
Everything connected to Sephirot was life-or-death to me.
I had to act. I met Lottie’s eyes once more. “If Netzach appears at that welcome banquet, he will not leave my sight.”
“…!”
“That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”
I spoke with surprising confidence, even though I had no idea what Netzach truly was. Perhaps he was a being I could never challenge. Still, the words felt right.
“I-I’m worried about that part!”
Lottie fidgeted with the tips of her fingers, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I remained unconcerned. I had heard the story before.
Four years ago, from a man who had once been my butler—Yesod—and who was otherwise as foolish as a stone. He had told me that among the Wings, only Kether could stand above him. That the man stronger than him had been his superior.
“Now that I am stronger than you…”
Yesod had been eighth-circle then. I, standing here now, could defeat him without effort. The chance of my losing was virtually zero.
I let out a soft chuckle and reached out to pat Lottie’s head.
“Don’t worry. No matter what scheme Netzach has prepared, I will win.”
“Wh-What…?”
Lottie’s cheeks turned pink as she rubbed her hair, yet her next words were full of an even greater confidence than before. “I will win.”
Lottie stared at me, stunned, then suddenly punched my abdomen with surprising force. “That line was pretty cool, though a little sappy.”
“Really?”
I gave a light nod and, in return, flicked her flat stomach with my knuckles.
“Eek!”
As if her reflexes had been trained by fear, Lottie leapt back like a startled cat. I curved my lips into a smirk. “Do not touch my body so casually, you shameless woman.”
“Why is everything so wrong with you!?”
Lottie’s face burned crimson with embarrassment as she shouted, yet I paid her no mind. “Hah… you really are an annoying man.”
Time was limited, as it always was with her. She calmed herself quickly. “Anyway… listen carefully. I’ll explain Netzach’s plan in one go.”
She began to lay out the details of the welcome banquet, the exact method Netzach would use, and the minor Wings he planned to recruit. I leaned against the alley wall and listened, cross-checking every point against the information I already held on the Grimoire of Lust.
When Lottie finished, she listed the most likely young ladies who might be targeted. “Starting with Charlotte Havertz, then Adelaide Teyran, Irene Sedaine, Lucille Cashmire, Arieta Halcyon, and finally—”
“Finally?”
“…”
Lottie paused, stealing a glance at my reaction. I tilted my head. Why did she look at me with such uncertainty right at that moment?
Her voice dropped to a cautious whisper. “The First Princess, Bianca de Altmain.”
“…”
“…My cousin, too.”
My expression shifted subtly. Why was she watching my reaction so closely at this exact point?