Ajuka sensed Nyx’s presence the moment he stepped foot into the manor. And he also could tell that the boy wasn’t alone. The weight of another minor aura clung to the air, though Ajuka didn’t need to guess who it was—that much was obvious. Fortunately, Sirzechs had already left for the night, though it hardly mattered. The Underworld’s magical network, not unlike the human internet, was a cesspool for open whispers and inflammatory scandal. News had a way of propelling themselves—spreading like wildfire, feeding on the insatiable hunger for some passing embers of change. Soon, the events of the night would reach every Devil with an ear open to them.

  For a moment, Ajuka remained still, lost in thought, allowing himself to be heavy. Then, with quiet resolve, he rose from his chair and decided to walk the length of the dimly lit corridors. He could have easily teleported to them with a single thought, but walking offered something teleportation could not—time. Time to think, to consider. It gave the approaching events space to unfold naturally, allowing his mind to sift through the chaotic storm of possibilities and his body to join them at a specific moment.

  As he walked, his thoughts circled around the inevitable. He had considered this night from every angle, tapped every potential outcome. And yet, as each option unfurled in his mind, the answers felt hollow, painfully limiting. No matter how many solutions he envisioned, they all led back to the same uncomfortable truth.

  This wasn’t a problem logic alone could solve.

  There was no clever key, no hidden path that would unlock a clean, flawless resolution. Ajuka Beelzebub knew better than most that the events unfolding that night were the consequence of flawed solutions, built atop a foundation of deeper, unresolved issues. This wasn’t the first time, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Tonight would merely be another imperfect answer in a long line of compromises he had learned to consider acceptable.

  He wasn’t searching for the perfect solution anymore. Instead, he sought the best one. The path that would leave the fewest scars, even if it wasn’t the one he preferred. The challenge, of course, was determining which of the imperfect outcomes would be the right one in the long run—like trying to pick the most palatable poison to drown on.

  Swift with purpose, Ajuka reached Nyx's room. This moment was critical. Outcomes 42 through 93 were easily manageable, but they all depended on one crucial detail: Nyx still being inside.

  He wasn’t.

  Ajuka's breath stopped for the briefest second as he opened the door. The room was completely still, save for the girl lying on Nyx’s bed, her body resting against the sheets like a rotten log, barely breathing. The state of her injuries pushed the situation into territory he’d hoped to avoid—scenario 115 and above. But the fact that her clothes remained untouched brought some relief. It wouldn’t escalate to 164—where violence became inevitable. A small mercy, but it meant he had to act quickly now, before it was too late.

  The fragment of Excalibur had changed everything. While holding it should still have granted him the upper hand, the sheer complexity of new possibilities it brought had left even the Satan less prepared than he would have liked.

  Ajuka’s next destination was his own laboratory. On any normal day, Nyx would never dare breach one of his most secure and sacred spaces without good reason. But today wasn’t a normal day. Today, they had given him a reason. It was this sharp instinct that allowed Ajuka to arrive precisely when he did—just as the magical circle lay half-finished on the ground.

  Nyx had made disturbing progress in such a short time. The intricate sigils glowed faintly, humming with latent power. If Ajuka had hesitated or chosen to look anywhere else first, the situation could have escalated into something far worse. But now, cornered and exposed, Nyx could only turn, his breath heavy and erratic. His hollow eyes gleamed with the desperate, crazed energy of a trapped animal.

  “Give me the sword,” Nyx growled, the words barely human.

  Ajuka remained composed, steady. “I do not have the sword,” he said with a calm certainty. “It is not here, and it won’t be anywhere until you explain what you’re trying to accomplish.”

  Nyx’s lips curled in frustration, blood seeping from where his teeth had bitten too hard. “You know what I’m trying to do!” he spat, his voice raw, teetering on the edge of madness. His demonic body strained against the instability of his mind. “Those… ravenous savages! Primitives, these beasts!

  Ajuka’s eyes narrowed. Nyx had always been malleable, almost too much so—in the most physical sense. He was a vessel of pure potential—an embodiment of demonic magic in its rawest form. Satanic magic, by nature, was a manifestation of imagination, and Nyx was its living extension. A miracle, yes, but one prone to erratic instability. The boy’s very existence was as unstable as the power that flowed through him, and it was clear that de-escalation needed to be the priority. At this moment, Nyx barely resembled a person—the jagged edges of his figure twisted under the shadows, struggling to maintain a coherent shape.

  “I think I have an idea of what you’re trying to do,” Ajuka said firmly. “But if you’re going to take this into your own hands, I need to make sure you fully understand it too.”

  Nyx growled low in his throat, the sound reverberating with barely-contained rage. He knew, even in his maddened state, that a direct confrontation would be useless. It shamed him, this inability to impose his will upon the world. As long as he lacked the power to reshape society, his every thought, every conviction, it was all nothing but a whisper in the void. There was no point in hoping for change without the strength to command it. Prayers wouldn’t save the,

  Ajuka let out a long sigh as he waved his hand through the air. A soft glow emanated from his fingertips, forming a floating orb of light that shimmered with an image—the flaming wreckage of the auction house, which was still burning.

  “Why?” Ajuka asked coldly.

  Nyx’s chest filled with fury. “Because they needed to burn, and they needed to believe she did it!” he shouted, his words raw. “The only way to stop those animals from buying humans is to make them afraid. Make them think it’s dangerous. Someone had to take the blame, and it had to be her!”

  “And what about her King?”

  Nyx’s lips twisted into a grim half-smile. “His head’s on her bed. I killed him before she was sold. He won’t be bothering us.”

  “And the girl?” Ajuka’s voice was a thread of steel. “What about her?”

  Nyx faltered, only for a moment. “What about her?”

  “Is she safe? Conscious? Did you heal her?” Ajuka pressed, unrelenting.

  “I—” Nyx’s voice caught in his throat, frustration boiling over as he clenched his fists. “I couldn’t—”

  Ajuka cut him off, his tone sharper now, slicing through the excuses. “You may not be a healer, but you could’ve done something. You could’ve found someone who could help her. Did it ever cross your mind what might happen when she wakes up—alone, terrified, in a room she doesn’t know? As far as she is aware, she was about to be sold like an object. Can you imagine what that feels like, Nyx? Do you have any concept of what it’s like to be abandoned, alone?”

  The words struck like fire. The boy lashed back, unable to contain the anger. “And what was I supposed to do?! Sit there and wait for her to wake up? Hold her hand while she cried? I failed, but I will not fail again. Now give me the sword!”

  The Satan’s expression darkened, disappointment etched into every line of his face. He shook his head slowly. “Yes, you did fail tonight. You failed the moment you decided that staying to make sure she was safe wasn’t worth your time. You failed when you convinced yourself that your ego was what needed saving.”

  The words hung in the air between them, heavy and cold, like a snowflake caught mid-fall, refusing to touch the ground.

  Ajuka stepped closer. “I really hoped to find you by her side, Nyx. I hoped you would choose differently, and I’m disappointed on you. I am disappointed because I know you’re better than this. You’re better than the choices you made tonight, you’re better than this… pitiful tantrum. I just hope you will remember that—sooner rather than later.”

  With that he reached out, pushing his hand into a pocket of nothingness, and pulled out the fragment of Excalibur. Without another word, the man turned and walked away, leaving Nyx standing in the room—still, silent. A storm raged in his mind, his chest hollow as though something had been taken from him.

  He stared at the blade, tempted to end the shame. But there was a real chance the Satan would bring him back, just to nail his point.

  ?

  It didn’t take long to settle down and take care of everything. I hadn’t been lying when I said I couldn’t heal her injuries—I was a butcher, not a surgeon. The only flesh I could mold was flesh I was willing to break. But the maids of the manor were more than capable in almost every way. Initially, the idea of waking someone in the dead of night to help with a stray I’d just dragged in wasn’t exactly my favorite plan. But to my surprise, they were eager, almost relieved to assist.

  Mithrila, one of the younger head-maids, greeted me with a warm smile, her presence calming as she followed me to the room without asking any questions. She attended to the girl with warm care while I lingered in the corner, doing what I did best—brooding in silence, trying not to get in her way. After about an hour, Mithrila was finished. She handed me a warm towel, then asked me to watch over Kira through the night. I swallowed my exhaustion and nodded, too ashamed to even try to argue.

  Magic truly was a thing. As I twisted the towel dry and placed it gently on her face, I couldn’t help but stare at the transformation. Just an hour earlier, she had barely looked human—broken, fragile, teetering on the uglier edge of life. Now, though still vulnerable, there was a calmness in her features, as if the girl were truly asleep. But despite the healing, the weight of the night still clung to her like a shadow. There were marks—small, like the faintest scars. Marks no one else would notice, but I saw them. And I couldn’t unsee them.

  I wanted to disappear, to escape, to vanish into the night. Anything would have been better than sitting there, staring down at a face that reminded me of how I could have been there sooner, but just… didn’t.

  By the time the sun finally crept over the horizon, I felt like I’d been run through the wringer. Sleeping wouldn’t have been an option even if I tried. The girl stirred every five minutes, as though haunted by ghosts in her dreams. The worst part? She looked like she was having fun, twisting and turning like she was caught up in some whimsical nightmare. And my condolences were for anyone who ever tried to keep up with her—I wasn’t even on the bed, and she still managed to kick me three times. All I could do was pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to remember that this was my doing—I was the one who brought us both into this, and now I had to find a way out.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  But eventually, there was a knock on the door.

  “I better see a whole lot of clothes in there,” came a voice from the other side.

  Before I could even respond, the door swung open, revealing Rosanova, the eldest maid of the manor. Despite only looking to be in her early forties, Rosanova carried herself with all the poise and patience of a rolling boulder—loud, commanding, and impossible to ignore. The only person she appeared to ever show respect to was Ajuka himself, although the fact that her… large size also applied to her curves managed to make the giant woman look somewhat maternal—unapologetically feminine, confident, attractive.

  “Well, would you look at that!” she exclaimed, a playful glint in her eyes. “So you really do know where to find girls. And she’s even pretty! Imagine my surprise when the girls told me you’d brought home a stray. Must have been quite the night for our little High Lord!”

  I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Are you just going to stand there and make fun of me?”

  “Unless you’ve got a better offer,” she quipped, pulling an apple from the pocket of her apron and snapping it in half with ease. “So… is it true? Was it you out there, raising hell on the streets?”

  I sighed. “Does… everyone just know?”

  “You don’t last long around here if you can’t put two and two together. But don’t worry—the girls know better than to go around running their mouths. So, what made her so special? With the way you stare at my chest every time I lean forward, I never thought you’d finally move your ass for a bare-bones chicken.”

  In my defense, those things just jiggled around half the time. Like right now. And the fact that she moved back and forth every time she spoke wasn’t helping. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to test me or cheer me up.

  “Or maybe I was just trying to do the right thing? Help someone?”

  Rosanova gave me a tired look, biting into her apple with deliberate slowness. “Listen, kid—I taught you how to walk. If you wanted to do charity, you’d have opened a blood bank. So, don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.”

  “I guess she was kind of… funny. But I really wasn’t thinking of keeping her around. It was more of a… catch and release thing—no compromise.”

  “Huh,” she hummed, tapping her chin. “Now I see why he got so pissed at you. Tell me, kid, what do you think would’ve happened to you if we caught and released your sorry ass?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “It sounds like you’re thinking that saving her life is enough. You’ve done your part, right? You’re the hero. You’ll keep her around until she can walk, then let her figure it out herself. Maybe a one-night-stand, if you’re lucky.”

  “Well… am I wrong?”

  Rosanova shrugged, her words casual but cutting. “No, not really. But it’s not what he did for you, and it’s not what he expects from you. Nyx, being a King isn’t just about collecting maniacs who can help you reach your goals. They’re people. You’ve gotta care about them—sometimes forever. Saving someone’s life is just the first step.”

  “And what if I don’t want it to be? What if I just want her to live a normal life, go back to being a normal girl?”

  “Ha!” Rosanova let out a snort. “You really are something, kid. You know humans better than any of us. Do you honestly think there’s a chance she can just… go back? Pretend like none of this happen, despite being a Devil?”

  I pushed myself to my feet, clenching my fists. “I can think of one way.”

  ?

  "I want you to erase Kira's memories."

  Ajuka stood in his private chamber, bathed in the glow of a digital sphere suspended in the air. It was a mass of shifting data, a swirling shadow of constantly evolving parameters and information. The cognitive spell wasn’t anything new, he typically relied on it to better predict the consequences of events on a world-wide scale. And yet, his gaze remained fixed on the sphere, his hand hovering over it as though manipulating a delicate instrument. Without looking at Nyx, he expanded the vision with a subtle gesture, the energy of the room humming in response as the projection overtook the entire space.

  “Tell me, Nyx…” His voice was a low murmur, the question nearly casual. “What are you—a person or a weapon?”

  Nyx hesitated before taking another step. “Both.”

  Ajuka nodded slightly, as if the response were expected. “That makes sense,” he said quietly, his tone devoid of judgment. "I suppose that’s my failure, then. I sent you out into the world, hoping you'd find people to care for. But a weapon... it doesn’t need companionship. Only ammunition.”

  "I can do better!" The words came out sharper than Nyx intended, and he quickly recomposed himself, not without a moment of shame.

  "I know you can, and I'm giving you the chance." He glanced at Nyx, gesturing for him to approach. "I've been thinking about what you said last night. Frankly, I never cared much about humanity. Introducing the Evil Pieces was about consolidating power, placing it in the hands of the remaining Devils. Changes needed to be made, and my people had to be eager for them. It was a matter of survival, after all.”

  Nyx raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "And now you're telling me you had a change of heart? Overnight?"

  Ajuka let out a short, humorless huff, but then his expression grew serious as he met Nyx's eyes. "At my age, you learn to accept that most people are rotten. You start to believe there’s little you can do to change that. But maybe…" He trailed off. "Maybe I’ve been doing too little. It sounds like you have a plan to improve the situation for humans within Devil society. I want to hear about it."

  Nyx took a moment, choosing his words carefully. "That… could be a bit complicated.”

  Ajuka frowned, confused. "In what sense?”

  Nyx shifted uneasily. "Because my first step is killing Diodora Astaroth."

  For a moment, neither said a word. Ajuka's eyes darkened, his face unreadable. Nyx continued, almost apologetic. "I didn't want it to come to this, but it’s the only way. If the trafficking network is a chessboard, Diodora is the King. And I can't afford to be playing around."

  Ajuka sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. "Nyx, when I say that killing the next head of the Astaroth family is a terrible idea, I’m not doing it out of some hidden affection for him. You don’t have the strength to face his peerage, let alone my entire family. Infiltrating their estate is far more dangerous than slipping yourself into an auction house." His tone hardened. "And even if you completely succeeded—which you won’t. The investigation would be relentless. You’d have a target painted on your back for at least some decades. Devils do not forget, nor forgive."

  "I know. Unless..." Nyx paused, gauging Ajuka’s reaction before pressing on. "Unless I knew the exact night when Diodora would leave his home. No guards. No witnesses. Just him, taking a walk in the human realm, alone, where no one would see me make a move."

  Ajuka raised an eyebrow. "Yes... that would be quite the invaluable piece of information for you to have right now.” He sighed once more, his features softening with resignation. "I'm not going to ask how you know that. Let’s just go along with it."

  With a flick of his wrist, Ajuka returned his attention to the digital sphere, adjusting the calculations as the equations shifted and pulsed with the new input.

  “It won’t be that easy, though,” Nyx continued. “I might have to deal with some Fallen Angels in the process, so I could use a little help.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “Propaganda, mostly. I need rumors circulating about the Fallen Angels planning to steal some Sacred Gears, just enough to create some fear. That way, if I ask for help, it won’t sound like I’m about to start another war. It’ll seem like the right thing to do, a risk worth taking.”

  Ajuka nodded thoughtfully, the gears in his mind clearly turning. “There’s a chance they’ll pull back once the rumors start spreading.”

  Nyx shook his head slightly. “As long as it’s subtle, it won’t matter. I don’t need it to reach the entire Underworld. Just enough whispers to hit the big ears around Kuoh Academy, especially keeping it out of Azazel’s range. The last thing we need is him catching wind of this—and he may or may not be lurking around in the human world.”

  Ajuka's fingers flexed over the sphere. “Targeted misinformation...” The spell shimmered as the data streams adjusted to the changes. “That should be easy enough. What’s next?”

  “We’ll also need to keep the rumors about Kira alive. Not enough to implicate her directly in Diodora’s death, but enough to make people wonder if she had something to do with it once he disappears.”

  “Report sightings of a mutated Devil near any big fires… That’s not a bad angle. With Diodora gone, human trafficking will definitely take a hit, but…” The Satan paused, turning to face Nyx fully now, his expression calculating. “Devil society may be relatively small, but we’re still talking about hundreds of millions. A single incident, even with the death of a major heir, won’t be enough. By the end of the year, the pressure will be gone.”

  Nyx sighed, nodding in agreement. “You’re right.” His voice grew measured as he prepared for the next part of his plan. “That’s why I’m planning on asking Michael for help. If he demands better human rights in the Underworld as a condition for maintaining the truce between Angels and Devils—with human trafficking being at an all-time low because of the rumors around Diodora’s death—there won’t be much protest, not in time at least. We could frame it as reluctantly accepting these reforms. That way, you won’t lose support from the more traditional Devil factions, but it’ll also give you the freedom to make a heavy change.”

  Ajuka remained silent, a rare moment of pause. He took a deep breath, walked to the far end of the dimly lit room, and poured himself a full glass, the faint clink of the bottle breaking the tension.

  “Are you… mad?” Nyx asked, his lips twitching into a small grin.

  Ajuka turned, glass in hand. "Well… I'd be lying if I said I wasn’t at least a little offended that you managed to include my reputation into your plans to secretly reform the Underworld." He took a long sip, exhaling sharply. "Mostly because now I have to admit Sirzechs was right."

  "Sirzechs?"

  The Satan waved it off. "Let's not think about that… or how you're planning to get an audience with Michael of all Angels." He downed the rest of his drink and returned to the glowing sphere, making the final adjustments to the cognitive spell. "If you pull this off, creating a future where humans have rights within Devil society… it’s more than possible. Just tell me, when did you have time to plan all this?"

  Nyx chuckled softly, almost to himself. "It's been a long night. My original plan was… well, let’s just say it involved a few terror attacks instead of asking for help. I was angry, really angry."

  Ajuka raised an eyebrow, but let the comment slide. "One more thing," he said. "You realize all of this would be easier if Kira were on your side."

  Nyx’s grin faded. "I know."

  "And you still want me to erase her memories?"

  "I do. I’ll take care of her, but she shouldn’t have to live with this. She deserves better."

  Ajuka studied the boy for a long moment, then agreed. "Then there's just one thing left before you go."

  "And what’s that?"

  The Satan smiled, heading for the door. "Let’s see what you can do with that Excalibur you brought home."

  ?

  At first, I had planned to delay the summoning ceremony for at least a couple of weeks, mostly because of the night before. There were still too many things I needed to consider—not to even mention the gravity of pulling someone from death and binding them to me forever. It wasn’t something you could take lightly. But with Ajuka by my side, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. His help was always invaluable.

  Though my knowledge of this particular ritual far exceeded his, Ajuka was simply better at magic than me. His precision in manipulating spells was unmatched, which was particularly impressive coming from a Devil. Together, we made a number of adjustments, both small and monumental, ensuring that the Dimensional Gap wouldn’t collapse the moment we attempted to seize a soul of such power and drag it into this world.

  Everything had to be perfect. From the timing to the offerings, no detail could be left to chance. In this case, we were using a blank homunculus as the vessel for her rebirth, a decision that still bothered me. It felt insufficient—an unworthy host for a being of her stature. But crafting a more fitting body would have required resources I couldn’t afford. The blood of my Queen, or someone related to her, would’ve been the ideal catalyst, but that would have probably started a war. And I wasn’t ready for that... not yet.

  And as for her… there was so much to say. She was a shadow from the past, a phantom in an endless hall of mirrors, none of which showed her true self. At my reach were a million versions of her, each reflecting a different path she could have taken, each one with its own proper end.

  I could have summoned the proud knight—the one who stood tall, blade raised high, leading her warriors into battle to forge that great kingdom. Or perhaps the Lion King—the one who clutched the spear at the edge of the world and outlived that betrayal drawn in red. But no. For this ritual to succeed, I needed the broken version of her. The one who stood at the edge of death, worn down and defeated, humbled by a shameful defeat.

  Only then would she listen.

  Her conviction had to be shattered, her past life left behind, or she would never accept the chains of this new life. If I had tried to resurrect her as the proud wielder of the holy spear, she would have fought against me—fought against everything to make her way back to that impossible dream she called home. No, I needed the version of her that had known defeat. Only then would she be willing to let go, to be reborn, to move forward.

  “Are you ready?” Ajuka asked, bringing me back to the real world.

  “Not at all,” I laughed. “You should probably go, just in case something goes wrong. One of us should survive.”

  “I’ll give you some space,” he replied before abandoning the laboratory.

  As the summoner, my role was clear: anchor her spirit to this world and give her the strength to maintain physical form. I placed the blade in the center of the magic circle, its presence still radiating with quiet power. Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself for the final step. The last offering was simple, but it would serve to narrow the search. I withdrew something I had prepared a long time before—a worn, old gun—a 1967 Thompson Contender. Of all her infinite lives, only one was tied to this relic, a connection that would call to her in a primal way, probably out of raw anger and hate. I prayed it would be enough.

  I took one last glance at the summoning circle. Despite its deceptively small size, it was optimized to perfection. Intricate layers of runes and symbols twisted around each other, forming a complex web designed to warp reality and probability in ways that defied the very laws of magic. It shouldn’t have worked—but that was the point.

  At last, I began to chant.

  “Heed my words”

  The reaction was immediate. The air around me crackled with violent energy, a palpable shift as if the world itself braced for what was to come. My focus narrowed, and I drew upon my Crimson Oath, feeling the warmth of blood coursing down my arms in thick, deliberate streams. It splashed onto the cold stone floor, pooling within the grooves of the circle, feeding the spell like fuel to a fire.

  “My will creates your body, and your sword creates my destiny. If you heed this call and obey my will and reason… then answer me!”

  A shudder rippled through the room, as if the fabric of reality trembled beneath the weight of the summoning. For a moment, I stood outside of it all, beyond the constraints of space and time. The Dimensional Gap twisted and distorted before me, a vast, yawning chasm that threatened to swallow everything. From deep within, I heard the roar—a sound ancient and immeasurable, like the voice of something older than time itself.

  “I hereby swear! That I shall be all the good in the world. That I shall defeat all the evil in the world!”

  Her presence was overwhelming. It wasn’t just one soul—it was as if I had reached into the sky to steal a star, only to find myself surrounded by countless others, all shining brightly, pulling at me, demanding to be chosen. But none of them were her. Not the one I needed. Only one could answer my call. I pushed forward, deeper, through the endless whirl of passing souls, each one brushing against me like the whispers of forgotten dreams.

  “Thou Seventh Heaven, clad in the three great words of power, come forth from the circle of binding, Guardian of the Scales!”

  A blinding light exploded from the circle, its brilliance cutting through the air with the force of a giant thunder. I staggered, barely able to stay on my feet as a torrent of raw magic washed into the world. The windows rattled, cracking under the pressure, and the cool, silvery moonlight spilled inside, dripping across the blood-stained floor.

  And there, in the center of it all, she stood.

  A figure in ornate, elegant dress and armor, battered and bloodied, her once-regal form marked by burns and bruises. Her golden mane flowed freely behind her like a spark in the midst of the cloudy sky. She moved with lethal grace, her entire body flowing forward in a blur of motion. Before I could react, the cold edge of her sword pressed against my neck.

  I froze. Face to face with her, I could see the agony etched into her eyes—those deep, emerald eyes that held a thousand unspoken regrets. Tears slid down her face, silent and full of pain even as she clenched her teeth.

  “I ask you...” Artoria groaned, exhausted. “Are you my master?”