Case 157: Of one who smiles and those who will.
Cecilia stood before the demon throne, her thoughts a swirling mess.
Under the spotlight, its glamour pulled the eye in helplessly, promising an unparalleled wealth of power should one dare to sit on it. Yet, there was only one entity qualified to become the throne's owner—the undisputed crownbearer of the demon realm.
And Cecilia, as 'Azrael,' had received the progenitor's 'blessing' directly, making her the first candidate. The moment she saw this seat, she knew it was meant for her.
From behind the throne, from within the darkness, countless voices spoke to Cecilia's mind, seducing her consciousness. Like the void's wings that seemed to embrace light, it, too, wanted to consume whatever was within its reach.
''...''
As Cecilia hesitated, a presence emerged.
The frozen wings shifted lazily, supporting a rounded silhouette. Its form was soon revealed within the barely perceptible shadow—a giant eyeball with double-slit pupils. That same arrogant look, the mounting pressure, yet the ancient demon seemed pleased by the crownbearer's return.
[You accepted my power, child.]
A deep male voice resonated.
[Finally thought it over?]
''...Yes.'' Cecilia nodded, ''Rather than dying...''
Looking at the bitter face Cecilia made, a gleam of satisfaction appeared in Astaroth's pupils. To date, this woman had been the toughest mind to ever resist his power. Like mother, like daughter, for succubi to harbour romantic emotions and adopt human values... it was certainly unusual.
This demon queen and her mother alone had cost Astaroth more than a decade of time. Although it would have been somewhat annoying to replace them with another candidate, such an effort wasn't in the realm of impossibility for the Archduke of Hell. Yet, there was a reason he clung to this pair of succubi—their immense talent for battles.
He could feel it—with either of them sitting on the throne, as long as they accepted his control, no one in this world could defeat them. For decades and centuries, Astaroth had been steadily building himself up from the ground, only waiting for the apt moment to strike, and now, he had come agonizingly close to godhood.
The time was ripe. Now, or never.
As if answering the demon's desires, the blood moon began to descend from the sky, gradually showering the city with its crimson light.
[You can feel it, can't you? The prelude to our last dance.]
''...''
[Take a seat, Azrael Lilith Vermilion. In this eternal night, you shall be my advent. Remember—the world is already within our grasp.]
Cecilia felt waves of undiluted desires, thick with the scent of demons, washing over her. It filled the chamber densely, coiling around her rational mind tighter each second. Under that torturous pain, she stepped forward and settled on the throne.
''Hah...''
A soft, almost benevolent smile tugged at Cecilia's face.
Even as the force behind the throne pulled at her, dragging her presence into a bottomless pit of ugly malice, Cecilia remained firm, for she would be the last demon queen to ever walk this land. For everyone, she was willing to endure this pain.
And in that scathing silence, Cecilia gently closed her eyes; her fate now awaited the arrival... of the destined heroine.
At the same time, a discreet gathering was taking place in Syrus.
Names that had ties to the now infamous demon queen—her three lovers, her friend, her mother, and her heroine. While the public's perception of them was changing, perhaps for the worse, they all had more pressing matters to attend to.
That was—how to save Cecilia from Astaroth's clutches?
In the renowned inventor Quasar's lab, a heavy atmosphere lingered. Only the muffled sobs of the owner sounded, while the others held a grave silence.
Lilith sat beside Quasar, her hand gently stroking the woman's hunched back as if to soothe her. For all she knew, the scruffy girl had been crying ever since she read Cecilia's letter. One look around the room, and it was quite obvious that she wasn't the only one who shed tears. Besides the heroine with her puffy eyes, even those cold beauties of high society wore reddened marks on their faces.
''M-Miss Rael, she... she apologized for using me... but I was the one saved by her.'' Quasar mumured between her sobs, ''If it weren't for her, I would've been a nobody...''
''Calm down, child.'' Lilith softly sighed.
Quasar was Cecilia's genuine friend. Amidst the swirls of politically motivated agents and malicious nobles, she was the only one who treated the lady of Orleans well without ulterior goals. And for the others to hear her heartbroken cries... it constantly reminded them of the pain Cecilia caused when she left.
Even now, a mixture of disbelief and guilt remained. Self-blame, hatred, grief—they all seemed to chain them down at the moment.
Yet, it wasn't too late. Cecilia was still alive—that was enough for hope to prosper.
Gathering the last of their courage and longing, they took wry steps forward. Even if they might trip and fall on the way to the end, it was enough that they took those steps. Or else... they could never live on while leaving Cecilia to pass away so inexcusably.
Lyra, unlike herself, looked particularly restless. Though an undying flame still resided in her gaze, it wasn't too difficult to see her anxiousness.
On the other hand, the three recipients of Cecilia's love were visibly shaken.
''...Do you think they'd come?'' Kiara uttered hazily, her eyes downturned.
''It's the fourth time you've asked that, Your Highness.'' Penelope sighed wearily.
''Sorry. I'm just...''
''...I'm not blaming you.''
Rachael, meanwhile, hadn't paid attention to their meaningless chatter. She sat upright, her brows furrowed, fists clenching tight enough to turn her skin white.
Amidst the tense mood, Lilith spoke, ''We've already called everyone who can help us. For now... it all depends on them.''
The number of people willing to go against the current to 'save' instead of 'kill' was small. After all, the target was none other than the demon queen. At best, only those who had sworn loyalty to them could be trusted, and even then, only the support of a few mattered the most.
The former hero party.
Lilith grimaced.
Depending on whether they chose to turn against her side or not, they could be facing tough opponents on top of the ancient demon. In this situation, where life or death would be decided within a hair-thin margin, their alliance was practically a must.
''Worst comes to worst...'' Lilith muttered, ''I'll have to charm them temporarily.''
''Don't you dare.''
A firm voice cut through the dragging atmosphere. At some point, the former heroine, Jeanne, had invited herself into the room. Following her were the three familiar faces—Mia, Cordelia, and Serendia—the remaining members of the party.
In an instant, the girls' faces lit up, then were replaced with uncertain expressions.
To dispel that doubt, Jeanne quickly announced, ''We're here to help.''
''Really?'' Lilith held the former heroine's hand, ''I'm glad you chose to believe in us.''
''Well... yes. I believe in what I see, at least.''
Following Jeanne, the remaining members also expressed their affirmations.
''I'm... following my gut feeling,'' Mia said.
''I believe in my disciples... is what I wanted to say, but think about it logically for a second and you'd realize what Azrael wants to do.'' Serendia shrugged.
''I can't do anything by myself anyway...'' Cordelia sighed helplessly.
It was a silver of hope woven within darkness—the birth of a new hero party. Their grand goal, aside from saving humanity, was to bring forth salvation for a kind, fragile woman.
