Case 156: At the end of the world.
On the night of the heroine's birthday, a shadow escaped the banquet hall. Under the moon's watch, it bolted East, slithering amidst the shower of civilization's lights.
Holding the flickering kindle of fire close to her heart, Cecilia ran toward her final battleground, the place that soon would become her final resting place. Now, no longer constrained by the lack of vitality, she felt stronger than ever. Yet, a gripping sense of restraint constantly pressed down on her presence, a reminder of Astaroth's control over her fate.
Once she accepted the ancient demon's power, Cecilia had already become his servant. Even now, whispers of his eternal desires shrouded the woman's consciousness, lulling her into submission. Become his puppet, execute his orders, then bring him back to life from the jaws of death.
An ordinary mind might have already collapsed, but Cecilia no longer felt intimidated. Now, without anything to lose, she stayed firm in herself and her purposes.
She would soon perish.
That alone gave her a strange resistance to mental interference, as if a dying patient receiving an epiphany before their ultimate end. But she still moved with an undying wish—that was, to bring happiness to the people she loved dearly, even if it meant endless pain and an unjustified death.
''...''
Now... she could finally let everything go with a smile.
Late into the night, Cecilia reached the demons' territory. Still a misty sky, yet the blood moon hung prominently, shining down on the denizens of this forsaken place. An air of extreme unrest and violence permeated the town, turning the demons into paranoid beasts. Barely anyone paid attention to Cecilia even as she flew openly without disguise.
Seeing the lively city now reduced to a mess, Cecilia didn't feel much of anything. People scrambled to secure their lives, some helping, some exploiting, some helpless—she had seen the same thing on the other side. Neither kinship nor sympathy mattered to her anymore.
'This must be the work of that guy,' Cecilia thought as she made her way toward the stronghold.
Unlike the last time when she was with Yuria, the fortress was now riddled with demon soldiers on standby. At a glance, Astaroth was clearly trying to conjure up an invasion.
When she approached the main entrance, many guards, some as bulky as trucks, tried to stop her. The commotion quickly garnered attention from others.
''Stop! Identify yourself—''
The confrontation didn't last long. Instinctively, both those who stood in Cecilia's way and those outside froze on the spot. From that delicate figure, one could feel a dreadful dominance etched in her condescending gaze. Every movement, every shift oozed nobleness, and none could mistake that long, ashen grey hair for anything else.
Though most of all, they could sense the overwhelming demonic energy swirling within that small frame.
''We humble servants welcome Her Majesty The Queen!'' A shrewd demon kneeled.
It then spread to the rest like a fever, and soon enough, they were all prostrating before the queen. Ignoring them, Cecilia made her way into the stronghold.
Once again, possessing the highest clearance, she breezed through the countless traps and obstacles prepared for raiders and arrived at the inner courtyards. This time around, they were noticeably crowded. Attendants ran around listlessly, and even the demon aristocracy, renowned for their solidarity, was present in large numbers.
The same scenario repeated itself here. Before the crown bearer, none dared to lift their head, especially under the progenitor's close watch. Cecilia herself felt it most vividly—the allure of Astaroth's greed, right behind those heavy doors to the throne chamber.
And, upon reaching those doors, Cecilia spotted a figure. Silver hair, pale skin, and a distinct residual scent of blood—it was the Livia Anora Dracul, the heiress of Dracul Duchy. Within the demon society, perhaps only those from long-standing vampire lineage could have a semblance of a position to face the royalty.
''You came back, Azrael,'' Livia said to Cecilia with a hint of mockery. ''What is it? Round two?''
''...''
Cecilia sensed something in Livia's demeanor, though she couldn't pinpoint it exactly. The spite was there, the hatred was there, yet the previous aggression was nowhere to be seen. Moreover, for Livia to loiter at this place so conspicuously—it couldn't have been a coincidence. Just in case, Cecilia decided to probe.
''What about you? Need another beating?'' She coldly scoffed.
''Say that again.'' A vein popped on the vampire's forehead. ''You're nothing but his toy. Don't oversell yourself, little girl.''
''And you covet the kind of position I am in,'' Cecilia replied. ''Frankly? I don't get it. Why do you need to be so stubborn?''
Cecilia's words clearly angered Livia, but unexpectedly, she didn't attack like the last time. Was it out of respect for the progenitor who was right behind the doors? Even the succubus queen couldn't guess what Livia truly was amidst her storms of emotions.
Still, the heiress of Dracul had to clap back, ''The fact that you know nothing justifies my longing.'' She gritted her teeth, ''Do you realize how many have suffered because of your mother's disappearance?! She left the country in disarray, left our defenses wide open for the enemies to exploit! Do you realize how many of us have been killed and taken hostage?!''
''...''
''The worst part? We were without a crownbearer! You and your mother brought the crest of the throne away and never even thought to leave it for anybody else! If I had ascended the throne back then...''
Cecilia glanced at Livia's clenched fists. In the end, the vampire's greed wasn't to fulfill her own greed, but for her people.
'...I already knew it, huh.' She thought inwardly.
Livia's motivation was briefly mentioned at the end of her boss fight in the original game, only through fleeting dialogues. As a former human and current demon, Cecilia was neutral on this aspect. The 'people' Livia tried to protect were 'evil demons' in humanity's eyes, though the opposite was also true on the other side.
There was never an objective justice, only subjective judgments from emotionally vulnerable beings.
As long as Cecilia achieved her goals, nothing else would matter much, including Livia's ambitions. Patting the vampire on her shoulder, the queen entered her chamber.
Again, the red carpet stretched across the vast space, with specks of gold shimmering under the blood moon's glow. At the end stood an imposing throne nested in a pair of sculpted wings. Behind them, within the darkness, a faint silhouette remained.
Astaroth.
As she stepped toward the seat, Cecilia's mind wandered. The reason the ancient demon had to delegate his power to someone else had to do with the state he was in. As the remnant of his original self, Astaroth's greatest wish was to revive his complete presence. In this world without gods and angels, such a descent would signal the appearance of a new ruling deity.
The throne chamber was akin to an incubator that hosted his form—his soul and consciousness. And the throne itself? A sort of temporary vessel. Through slaughtering, Astaroth could gather the souls of countless individuals to replenish his own and nurture a new body. To conserve energy and avoid risks, the progenitor had chosen proxies to execute those tasks.
A smile suddenly bloomed on the queen's cold face.
Her thoughts were simple—'It would probably look spectacular if I blow up everything later...'
