"Juju."
Katsu descended the marble stairs of Velthra House, footsteps quiet but certain. He met Juju von Soryuun's gaze where she sat waiting—her emerald eyes closed until, with a flick, she pinned him with their feline intensity.
"You know how to show up," Juju said, her smile a dare. "I'm surprised your stealth guards aren't circling me already."
He arched a brow.
"Of course. I have no alliance with Soryuun—least of all with you."
Juju's eyes narrowed, a flicker of mischief in her smile.
"Yet you aligned yourself with Rira—my own House's enforcer. When the rumors said you were a Wizard, I laughed. Then I saw you freeze a lake with my own eyes." Juju leaned in, her gaze glittering. "Curious, isn't it? Someone marked by Water and Darkness, wielding an element that should never answer to you."
Katsu kept his expression neutral.
"The Leviathan doesn't choose my element palette. I can use Fire, Water, and Wind. Only one of those is hers—I haven't even touched Darkness."
Juju's lips curled. "Oh? She doesn't trust you with it, then?"
Katsu's jaw tightened, but his voice was steady. "There's more to it than trust. I have what I need for now."
"But do you trust her?" Juju pressed.
He didn't hesitate. "Absolutely. I unsealed her."
"Then why haven't you merged your mana pools yet?" She said it almost lazily, but the words had teeth.
He blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"Don't play dumb, Velthra. Full trust means full connection. If you trust her—and she trusts you—your mana should be one stream, not two. So why hasn't it happened? Is it because of the relationships you're building around her? Or is her Envy just that suffocating?"
Katsu just shook his head, not rising to the bait. "Our bond works the way it needs to."
Juju's smile turned razor-thin. "Maybe. But you're playing a high-stakes game, Velthra."
She glanced down, and her tone softened to something almost reflective.
"You really are different now. Not just your magic. The way you carry it."
Katsu let out a slow breath, almost amused. "I'm just trying to figure out why you've been sitting here for an hour, acting like you want to talk. Didn't you almost kill me yesterday?"
Juju snorted, unbothered. "Please. You nearly killed yourself—waking up Belphegor like that. That wasn't my doing. You used his element carelessly, and the cost was yours to pay."
He held her gaze, fatigue hidden behind his eyes but no bitterness. "So this is my lecture?"
She shrugged, lips twitching. "Consider it a favor. Don't meddle with demons you can't handle. Especially when you already have one."
Katsu's mouth twisted into a dry half-smile. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind. Sorry for ruining your morning with my near-death experience."
Juju's eyes glinted, amused. "You're forgiven, Velthra. But next time, try not to make it so entertaining."
"Oh, fuck off…" Katsu laughed, rolling his eyes. "Are you leaving now?"
Instead of answering, Juju blurred. She vanished from the foot of the stairs, tearing a hole in space—reappearing just a breath away from him, cloak snapping around her like a shadow. It wasn't Flashstep. The air rippled where she'd stood, the effect eerily silent.
Katsu reacted on instinct, letting mana coil through his veins—blue light flickered at his heels as he vanished, reappearing a few feet further down the hall, back against the wall. That wasn't textbook teleportation either; it was old magic, the kind passed down in blood and memory.
Juju's mouth quirked, pleased and challenging. "Oh? So you can use the Founder's Art as well?"
Katsu's eyes narrowed, head tilted as he studied her. "Why can't Rei Dravantiir do it?"
She smiled, almost conspiratorial. "It's not always a lesson you're taught. Sometimes, it's something you master on your own. Founder's Art answers to blood—and to will. Most Dravantiir only blink with glyphs. But you—" She trailed off, looking him over, emerald eyes sharp as knives. "You broke through on your own, didn't you?"
He shrugged, but a flicker of pride showed. "I don't know. I just did what felt natural."
"Natural," Juju echoed, her tone unreadable. "Velthra always was the House of wild talents. No two heirs shape their gifts the same."
Katsu relaxed, lowering his guard by a hair. "And Soryuun?"
She smirked. "Soryuun is discipline. Precision. We don't rely on instincts alone. But every few generations, someone bends the rules. Like you. Like me."
For a moment, the rivalry thinned, replaced by a quiet understanding—two heirs, both carrying their House's burdens, both breaking the rules that shaped them.
Juju stepped closer, her voice low. "The Founder's Art marks you as something more than a prodigy, Katsu. It means you can move in ways the Academy isn't ready for. Be careful with that."
He met her gaze, steady. "Maybe the Academy needs a shake."
She let out a laugh, dark and bright. "Careful, or you'll find yourself rewriting more than just the rules."
There was a pause. Then, softer: "I'll be watching you, Nori-Velthra. Don't disappoint me."
She vanished again, gone before he could reply, leaving Katsu in the aftertaste of her power—the air shimmering, his own nerves bristling with the sense that this wasn't the last time she'd rewrite the rules.
Before he could catch his breath, space warped behind him—a cool rush, a scent of frost and rain. Juju reappeared, impossibly close, chin settling on his shoulder like they'd known each other forever.
He tensed, just barely. She leaned in, her whisper a knife's edge against his ear. "And since we're breaking rules, let's formalize an alliance between Velthra and Soryuun. Like you did with Dravantiir. That cool with you, heir?"
He shot her a side-eye, pulse quickening. "So this is how Soryuun plays politics now? Sneaking up on people and calling it diplomacy?"
Her smile was lazy, wolfish. "I could write a letter if you prefer, but this seemed faster." She traced a finger along the line of his collar, unbothered by the distance. "Besides, your party could use an upgrade. Rei's strong, but rough around the edges. Maybe I'll teach him a thing or two."
Katsu shook his head, torn between exasperation and something close to amusement. "You could try. Just don't expect him to take notes."
"Oh, I'm persistent." Her voice dropped to a teasing murmur. "And I'm hard to get rid of, Velthra."
He stepped out of her reach, putting an arm's length of space between them. "You want in? Then say it straight. No games."
For a split second, as she opened her mouth to reply, the air warped—cold, sharp, a pressure crackling in the hall. A coil of Belphegor's shadowy heat spilled from Juju's side, oil-black and laced with red sparks. Instantly, a flood of pale, icy mist swept in from behind Katsu: the Leviathan, her envy cutting through with a blue-white radiance, the temperature in the corridor plummeting.
A standoff—demon against demon, their auras colliding in midair, sparks and frost twisting together in a blur of rage and pride. Shadows writhed, frost steamed, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the entire Academy held its breath.
Juju's eyes flashed, a warning flicker—she snapped her fingers once. The shadow-fire collapsed back around her, sullen and resentful.
At the same moment, Katsu let his breath out slow, reaching with his will. The mist stilled, Leviathan's envy curling inward, coiling protectively around him but pulling back, just enough.
Juju and Katsu exchanged a look—part challenge, part understanding. "Looks like our plus-ones are eager to meet," Juju murmured, her tone half-amused, half-serious.
"Not today," Katsu replied, his voice cool but steady. "Business first."
Juju's eyes glimmered—challenge accepted. "Alright. I want in. I want a formal place in your team. And when the next mission comes, I'm not sitting on the sidelines."
Katsu considered her for a moment, weighing the risks—the politics, the reputation, the danger of letting someone this unpredictable inside his circle. But something in her gaze—honest, wild, determined—felt real.
"Fine," he said. "You want in? Earn it. Prove you can fight with us, not just against us."
Her smile widened, sharp and bright. "Deal. Try to keep up, Velthra."
She vanished a final time, leaving only the promise of chaos—and maybe, for once, an ally who thrived on the same high stakes he did.
Katsu exhaled, rolling his shoulders, half-dreading and half-excited for what came next. The last chill of Leviathan's presence faded from the air, lingering just beneath his skin.
He hesitated, glancing down the empty hall. Levii?
Her presence stirred, cool and wry in the back of his mind.
"Why have you never done that with Rei's demon?" he asked quietly. "You never clash with his like you do with Belphegor."
For a long moment, only silence answered. Then Leviathan's voice slid in—softly.
"Because Satan never tried to kill you."