"You look like a bloody mess, Serafall. What happened?" Sirzechs asked as he stared at her disheveled, exhausted form.
Her usually immaculate appearance was completely ruined, her hair tangled, her clothes torn and bloodied from the wound in her stomach that was still slowly healing, her face smudged with ash and sweat.
She looked more like a homeless vagrant who had been sleeping in the streets than a proper high-class devil and one of the Four Great Satans.
Serafall shot him a venomous glare, her violet eyes still blazing with residual fury.
"Why are you only asking me? Your beloved Grayfia looks just as messy!"
Sirzechs glanced away, a hint of guilt crossing his face.
Ajuka cleared his throat.
"Ahem. Everyone, let's return to the matter at hand. What exactly happened to the two of you?"
Serafall stomped her foot in frustration.
"She will pay for this! That Asmodeus is cunning and completely irritating! She's the one responsible for burning the Capital!"
Ajuka's expression darkened considerably.
He turned to Grayfia, silently asking for confirmation with a single raised eyebrow.
Grayfia gave a short, grim nod, her silver eyes carrying the weight of everything she had witnessed.
"This is bad…" Ajuka muttered. "We seriously miscalculated Asmodeus. What do you think, Sirzechs?"
Sirzechs clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles went white, the air around him crackling with barely suppressed crimson demonic energy.
"We will not rest until she is brought to justice. Put a bounty on her head: alive or dead. Anyone who captures or kills her will be rewarded with one of the vacant noble houses and all of its vast lands. Pure-blooded or not, it doesn't matter."
The others exchanged glances around the room, the weight of Sirzechs's declaration settling over them.
It was an unprecedented offer, elevating someone to noble status purely on merit rather than bloodline went against centuries of devil tradition.
But these were unprecedented times.
And Makima Asmodeus had proven herself to be an unprecedented threat.
"Then we begin the hunt immediately, Sirzechs."
The four of them stood united in the ruins of what had once been the proud Capital of Lilith.
The hunt for Makima Asmodeus, the Devil of Control, the last of the Old Satans, the monster who had burned her own people alive had officially begun.
...
"Oh, what do we have here? Your Majesty Asmodeus, Demon King of Lust and one of the most powerful Satans who ever lived. It's a pleasure to meet you… in this vile and humble place, no less."
The girl smirked with practiced confidence as she offered a courteous, almost theatrical bow, the kind that was designed to draw attention to her figure rather than demonstrate genuine respect.
She had long blonde hair, striking violet eyes, and a very questionable sense of fashion.
What she wore was extremely skimpy, the kind of outfit that made half the men in the tavern openly leer at her.
Their gazes weren't subtle at all, and she seemed to enjoy the attention, smiling with quiet pride.
She wore a dark purple gothic ensemble that was more lingerie than actual clothing: a revealing corset-style top that exposed a generous amount of her pale, flawless skin and pushed up her considerable assets, paired with short black shorts that hugged her hips and thigh-high stockings that emphasized the length of her legs, and tall thigh-high boots that clicked against the wooden floor with every step she took.
Looking at her standing there, practically radiating sexual confidence, I wasn't entirely sure who the real Demon King of Lust was supposed to be in this situation.
Perhaps I should nominate her for the title.
I reached out with casual authority, gently lifted her chin with two fingers, and tilted her face up so that her violet eyes met my golden ones directly.
My expression was playful, almost teasing, but there was an edge of warning beneath the surface.
"It's rather rude of you, Lieselotte Sherlock, for a witch to offer nothing to her Demon King."
Lieselotte took absolutely no offense at the gesture or the implied criticism.
Instead, her confident smirk only widened, revealing a hint of perfectly white teeth. "I sincerely apologize for the oversight, Lady Asmodeus. I simply don't think you would appreciate any gift I could scrounge up in this wretched, miserable place."
"Look at these drunkards and the filthy drinks they have. Everything here is dirty, cheap, and utterly beneath your dignity. I wouldn't insult you by offering something from this hovel."
We were currently seated in a small, unremarkable town in the French countryside, inside a noisy, smoke-filled tavern that smelled of cheap ale and unwashed bodies.
The kind of place where people went to forget their troubles or find new ones. The kind of place where no one asked questions.
The perfect location for a discreet meeting between a fugitive Satan and a treacherous witch.
"However," she continued, her expression shifting to something more confident and businesslike, "I do have some genuinely useful information that might interest you greatly. If you're looking for a witch and the best, most talented witch currently available in this part of the world, you can find one right here, standing in front of you."
I leaned in closer, closing the distance between us until my lips were nearly brushing against the delicate shell of her ear.
My voice dropped to an intimate, dangerous whisper that only she could hear. "I don't think I want to hire you… You betrayed us once. What makes you think I would want you now?"
I paused, letting the accusation sink in. "Moreover, I'm not even looking for a witch right now. I'm searching for a fallen saint, a holy woman who was betrayed by her own country and cast out by the very people she devoted her life to serving. Not you."
Lieselotte pouted slightly, her full lower lip jutting out in an expression of exaggerated disappointment. "Blunt and direct as always, my lady. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."
Her expression sobered, the playful demeanor fading somewhat. "For the record, I don't work for Rizevim anymore. He's a complete creep, the most disgusting excuse for a devil I've ever had the misfortune of knowing."
"I've seen with my own eyes, more than once, what he does to his own mother when he thinks no one is watching… Urgh." She shuddered visibly, genuine revulsion flickering across her beautiful features.
"You probably don't want to hear the sordid details, and I certainly don't want to describe them, so let's skip that particular horror and move on. But…"
She took a deliberate step back, putting just enough distance between us to make the conversation feel like a negotiation rather than an interrogation, and looked at me with a playful, calculating expression.
"I can swear my loyalty to you, Lady Asmodeus. You want power more than anyone else in this world, I can see that hunger in your eyes and I recognize it because I feel the same fire in my own heart."
Her smile sharpened into something almost predatory. "I think we're a perfect match, you and I. You want power… and so do I. Together, we could achieve things that neither of us could accomplish alone."
I chuckled darkly at her bold, audacious assessment. "I hate anything I can't properly leverage, Lieselotte Sherlock. I don't feel your fear. I don't feel your submission. And I also don't feel any real love from you toward your own sister or homeland. If you ever betrayed me and escaped, I wouldn't be able to inflict the kind of pain that would make it worth keeping you."
Lieselotte blinked once, twice, then let out a surprised, genuinely amused laugh.
"You're much, much darker than I ever gave you credit for, Asmodeus. That's pure evil… What kind of logic is that? Wanting to hurt your own subordinate's family or homeland just because they hurt or betrayed you?"
I shrugged with complete indifference. "I once burned men, women, the elderly, children, and their entire homes to the ground. And now you're telling me this is evil?"
"I don't disagree…" She licked her lips with a devilish smile. "In fact, I rather love it. I originally joined the Seven Trinity for power and for the ancient tomes buried deep beneath the Capital, Lady Asmodeus. I might have stayed if Rizevim weren't so thoroughly disgusting."
Her eyes filled with genuine disgust and anger the moment she mentioned his name.
And that, more than anything else she had said tonight, was what made her genuinely interesting.
A witch with a grudge. A potential ally with a score to settle.
Perhaps she was more leverageable than I had initially assumed after all.
"You've convinced me, Lieselotte Sherlock. Now… tell me what you know about Jeanne d'Arc."
Lieselotte's smirk widened at the command.
With those words, the contract between us was established.
The devil had finally found her witch, and the witch had finally found the Demon King she would serve.
It was going to be a beautiful, terrible, glorious partnership indeed.