Inside the Wardens' pavilion, the air was thick with the weight of what had transpired. Only a handful of Wardens were present—those assigned to night duty—but even they looked shaken as Isabella finished recounting the events at the abbey.
The mention of Kimaris made their faces pale. A demon of that rank, here, on Church soil—it was almost unthinkable.
"How could they know?" one Warden muttered.
"All missions were vetted and hidden with utmost secrecy," another protested. "Demons should not have been aware of a single detail."
No one had an answer.
Isabella exhaled, her strength clearly waning, but she straightened her back and fixed her eyes on the young hunters still standing at her side.
"You've done more than anyone could have asked. Your task is complete, successfully," she said, her voice still commanding despite the cracks in it. "Go. Rest. Unless… you have any questions?"
Azazel stepped forward, silent for a moment. Then, instead of a question, he extended the plaque with four flames etched upon it.
The pavilion went quiet.
Isabella blinked in disbelief. "You're… choosing another mission? After this?"
The Wardens exchanged glances, some chuckling, others shaking their heads in amazement.
"That kind of fire," one remarked, "if only our teams had half their hunger."
"Reckless," another countered, though a smile tugged at his lips.
Azazel's gaze never wavered. "We leave tomorrow morning. I'll inform the Grandmaster myself about what happened."
The group turned to depart, the tension easing only slightly as exhaustion weighed on their shoulders. At the door, however, Azazel paused, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Oh, I almost forgot," he said with deliberate calm. His eyes found Isabella. "Do get some good rest."
The irony in his tone was unmistakable.
Veins bulged at her temple and neck as fury flared across Isabella's face. She opened her mouth to retort, but the Wardens around her burst out laughing.
"This time he got you," one teased. "The boy's got a sharp tongue."
Isabella clenched her fists, crumpling up the four-flame task and seething, while Azazel disappeared into the night with his companions.
"By the way, Isabella, how do you think what kind of face is behind that mask?"