"Hello, kids," a voice escaped the figure before them, smooth and chilling like a whisper from the grave. It was an intriguing sight—a man, or at least something that had taken the shape of one, cloaked in shadows that clung to his form like a second skin. He stood at least nine feet tall, towering over them with an unnatural presence. His skin, from his clawed feet all the way up to his neck, was a dull ash-gray, smooth yet cracked like weathered stone. He was stark naked, but his privates were obscured by some dark illusion, hidden from view. His bat-like wings were spread wide, as if he had just landed from a silent flight, their leathery membranes veined with faint pulses of red. His fingers were long, dark, and sharp, gleaming like forged metal blades ready to slice through flesh. But from the neck up, it was nothing short of a marvelous contrast—he was utterly handsome, with flowing blonde hair that caught the dim torchlight and a face of normal, porcelain-pale skin that could have belonged to a forgotten prince.
For this stark duality, the trio stared at him, their faces etched with a mix of fascination and raw fear. The demon's golden eyes fixed on them, glowing like molten coins in the gloom. He licked his hands slowly, clearing away the sticky stain of the Pope's blood with a deliberate swipe of his tongue.
"Hmmm... are you looking at me? Isn't sin beautiful?" Azazel said, his lips curling into a malicious smile that revealed sharp, pearl-white teeth.
The trio unanimously took a few steps back, their feet scraping against the cold stone floor of the catacombs.
"Quite an interesting sight for a demon," said Lu, his lips quivering as he tried to steady his voice.
"Why, thank you," Azazel growled, flapping his wings mildly and sending a faint gust of stale air toward them.
"They always say the fish is the most handsome of all of us, but nobody is more beautiful than sin," he added, his tone dripping with arrogant pride.
"Why did you kill the Pope?" Amara asked bravely, her fists clenched at her sides, but the demon's golden eyes were no longer focused on her. They had shifted to Sophia, locking onto her with intense scrutiny.
"That power... young lady, why, if I may ask, do you possess demon powers?" he said to Sophia, completely disregarding Amara's question.
"Why do you ask? Wanna kill me too?" Sophia shot back sharply, in her usual cocky manner, though her stance betrayed a flicker of unease.
"Be careful, young lady... don't play coy with me. So, I take it that you defeated the beast?"
"I did."
"Suits you... No ordinary person can do that. Besides, we both know the truth," Azazel said, and Sophia's face tensed up, her jaw tightening. Amara and Lunare exchanged quick, worried glances, the air growing thicker with unspoken questions.
"That's enough," Amara said, stepping in front of Sophia to shield her from the demon's prying gaze, her body acting as a barrier in the narrow tunnel.
"Ah, the classic hero, defensive in the charge of others, without caring for the truth," Azazel said, his words slithering like venom, attempting to plant a seed of doubt in their bond—a typical move for a devil. But Amara wasn't having any of it; she could see through his schemes as clear as day, recognizing his desire for distortion and division.
"She will tell us in her own time," she said firmly, her eyes locked on his without flinching.
But Azazel laughed—a cackle that echoed off the sandy, crumbling walls of the catacombs, bouncing back like mocking whispers. Then he stopped abruptly and returned his attention to her, his eyes glowing with malicious intent. A heavy pressure filled the air, thick and oppressive like an invisible fog of dread. While Lu shrieked in fear, covering his ears, Amara and Sophia decided to stand their ground, their feet planted firmly on the uneven stone.
"Do you want to challenge me, young lady?" the demon asked, gazing at them with a predatory tilt of his head.
Immediately, Amara's magic began to flare, her yellow mana swirling around her like a protective aura of golden light, crackling with energy. She was ready for a fight—a fight she wasn't sure she could win, but one she wouldn't back down from. But the demon's eyes narrowed, the shine of his golden gaze dimming slightly as if reconsidering.
"That power..." he murmured, then walked past her toward Lu, his wings folding slightly with a leathery rustle.
"What? Are you chickening out now? Afraid I might actually get the better of you?" she yelled after him, her voice echoing defiantly, but he ignored her completely and strode straight to Lu.
"Lu, get away!" Sophia yelled, her hand sparking with faint demonic energy, but Lu was shaking in his boots, fear restraining him from making any move at all. Was this the demon's insidious power at work, or was he just gripped by a severe case of PTSD? He had fought a demon before—what seemed to be the problem now?
Azazel caressed Lu's face with one long, clawed finger, then raised it up by his chin, forcing their eyes to meet.
"Lu, is it?" But Lu didn't answer, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
"They think you are the weakest link here, but we both know you are more powerful than that... even more powerful than the both of them if you want to be. You keep restraining yourself. Join me, and I will make you higher than them all," he added, his voice a tempting whisper laced with dark promise.
"Lu, resist!"
"Do not agree to that!" his friends yelled, their voices cutting through the haze like a lifeline.
Instantly, Lu snapped to life, taking a few stumbling steps back as his resolve was reinforced, his eyes clearing with determination.
"Oh well, your loss," Azazel said with a shrug, turning back to Amara.
"Young lady, I could kill you in an instant, but that would just invoke her wrath, so I digress," he said to her as he flapped his wings powerfully, rising above them into the air with a rush of wind that stirred the dust on the ground.
"See you gremlins soon. I have something to take care of, and pray to your creator that you are stronger when next we meet... I would hate to kill you three off without a proper fight." With this, he vanished in a swirl of dark mist, leaving three distressed witches behind in the echoing silence of the catacombs.
Who was "Her" and what was the demon on about?