"So, how was last night?" Satoru's voice echoed through the long-winded wooden corridors of Jujutsu High, a teasing smile playing on his lips. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced sideways at August.
"It was beyond your wildest imagination," August responded with a smug laugh, meeting Satoru's deadpan gaze with triumph in his eyes.
"How did you figure it out?" He asked curiously.
"I didn't," Satoru explained casually, as if they were discussing the weather, "I ran into Shoko on my way here and that poor girl was worried how Mei Mei came limping to her office this morning for treatment and even refused to explain how she got injured."
Their conversation shifted, the topic changing as fluidly as the wind until they stopped in front of an ordinary wooden door. The door stood tall and unassuming, with its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the corridor lights.
Turning his head towards August, Satoru asked, "Ready?"
Taking a deep breath, August nodded, "Yes."
With a soft creak, the wooden door swung open, revealing the interior of a moderately spacious room. Plushie toys of all kinds were scattered around, their vibrant colours contrasting against the room's muted tones.
August's eyes scanned the room before finally focusing on the tall, muscular tan-skinned man sitting on the floor at the center of the room; his hands moved steadily, sewing away at a plushie giraffe with a concentration that was almost too intense.
With a shaved head topped with short, spiky black hair that accentuated his thick eyebrows and the moustache and goatee combo on his face, Masamichi Yaga resembled more of an American brawler than a Japanese sorcerer.
"I brought him," Satoru announced, catching Yaga's attention.
Masamichi had already agreed to hire August as a teacher at Jujutsu High after Satoru talked him into it. However, he wanted to meet August in person first before making the final decision.
"Principal Yaga," August greeted him respectfully with a nod.
"Sorcerer Blackwood," Yaga acknowledged, sizing up the young man before saying, "I heard about your actions yesterday. Impressive."
"Thank you."
"Let's get straight to the point. Why do you want to teach at Jujutsu High?"
"There's no particular reason," August replied casually.
The straightforward answer and the lack of a specific reason took aback the muscular man. The room fell into an awkward silence as Yaga stared at August in surprise. Meanwhile, Satoru stood nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, already used to August's unpredictable behaviour by now.
Sighing, August elaborated, "I am not disinterested either. Satoru here, has helped me a lot, and I would like to repay him in any way I can."
"Honoring your debts is a respectable thing to do," Yaga nodded, "But that doesn't mean you are guaranteed a spot here."
"Really? Then who is?"
"People who genuinely care for the future of the students they are about to teach. People who understand the harsh reality that awaits them and are prepared to guide them through it," Yaga's words hung in the air with a grave undertone to them as he punctuated with one last point, "People who are not as casual as you."
'That makes sense,' he thought, his lips curling into a small smile. 'But…'
"You are misunderstanding something, Principal," His vibrant amethyst flared intensely. "Just because I appear laid back does not mean I am casual. As a former 'normal' human, I have a better perception of the dangers in this world than you guys do."
Both occupants of the room were taken aback by his statement, their attention centred on him as they listened to his words carefully.
"These barely 16-17-year-old children are learning how to fight when they should be enjoying their days with their friends. This side of the world has dangers even I as a Special Grade cannot handle the way I am right now," August's words did little to ease the bitterness on their faces.
"And the gap between a Special Grade and a Grade One is so immense that it's laughable they are ranked only one grade apart. And most of these students won't even qualify as a Grade One, let alone anything higher. That means just one mission with incorrect intel about the enemy's strength could end their lives."
His words were akin to a punch to the guts, dismantling their society's intentionally overlooked problem with painful accuracy "And even in this grim situation, the council won't stop toying with the future of these kids."
Yaga looked confused at this, his brow furrowing as he asked, "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean," August replied coolly, meeting their gaze head-on. "Similar to how the council was trying to obstruct my promotion yesterday, they do the same to any sorcerer they don't like. A lot of promising young talents have been surpassed to the depths of hell by those politics-loving old farts, and yet you all sit idly by and do nothing. So don't act like you are morally superior when you are not."
Masamichi's eyes burned with anger as he lashed out, "What do you know about us?! Do you know what it took for me to get here? How hard we fought to give these children a chance at a better life? We gave them hope—"
"False hope," August cut in with a cold voice. "You gave them nothing but false hope." He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
"Listen, I'm not here to argue morality with you, Principal. These kids mean more to me than you can imagine, and I want to help them for reasons beyond just owing Satoru a favour. They need to understand that there's more to the world than just battling Cursed Spirits - much of it far more perilous. Do you know what sets top institutions apart from Jujutsu High?"
"They have special grade teachers while you do not," he replied matter-of-factly. Before Yaga could object, August interjected, "Satoru doesn't count as one as he is too busy solving the world's problems most of the time."
The room fell into an uneasy silence as Yaga and August locked eyes. The tension between them was thick, the quietness almost suffocating.
"You can reject me if you want. But remember, it will be YOUR loss, not mine. I can easily continue living as a special-grade sorcerer. Your pay is a joke to me and teaching students takes up time and patience that I would be foolish to waste on something not beneficial to me. Just remember, the next time a student dies, their blood will be on your hands," August warned, his voice echoing ominously.
With that, August turned on his heel and began walking away with long strides, exuding a presence too commanding and authoritative to ignore.
"Wait," Yaga's deep voice rumbled from behind, halting August in his tracks. He slowly turned around to face the principal.
"Fine! I admit I was testing you, but some of your ideas truly caught me off guard. It's rare for someone your age to recognize the dark underworking of our society so quickly. In any case, we are fortunate to have you," Yaga admitted with a newfound respect for the young man.
This revelation did not surprise August; he had suspected all along that he was being tested. But that did not mean he enjoyed it, so he played along with an innocent little "prank."
"Thank you," he replied, extending his hand towards the principal. Their hands met in a firm handshake, the significance of which they wouldn't understand for years to come.
''One step closer,' he thought to himself with a small smile.
"I have been meaning to ask; could you point me towards the Library of Stars?" he inquired.
The name suggested it would be closer to the tomb of Stars, the home of Tengen, but he wasn't sure.
Yaga's hand tensed for a moment before relaxing. "I almost forgot you're a special grade. Ordinary sorcerers aren't supposed to know about its existence."
'Makes sense' he thought. After all, that library held secrets and techniques that the council wouldn't want the normal populace to know, reserved for only a handful of the country's best.
"Satoru will guide you there."
_________
Ironically, the Library of Stars had nothing to do with actual stars, despite its name. The elevator chimed as it reached its destination, and August and Satoru emerged into a dimly lit hallway. The only light came from the ethereal glow of magical lamps that lined the walls.
Satoru broke the silence first, his voice echoing softly in the quiet corridor, "You know, back in the day, the Japanese Supernatural Society was nothing like it is today. We were the underdogs, unlike the more advanced societies."
August's interest was piqued; as a lover of history and mythology, he couldn't help but be intrigued by the true origins of their world. "How far back does this go?" he asked eagerly.
Satoru paused for a moment before answering, "Hmm…roughly two thousand five hundred years ago. We don't know much before that, except that three super-civilizations led by three powerful pantheons ruled the world; The Abrahamic Pantheon, The Heavenly Court of the Jade Emperor, and The Hindu Pantheon."
He continued, "The Father of Angels is known as the most powerful god, but Shiva, The Destroyer and Jade Lord, The Heavenly Emperor were close behind with only a negligible difference."
"So what set these pantheons apart was their human civilization," Satoru explained. "While the Abrahamic pantheon was reeling from the aftermath of Morningstar's fall, the other two prospered at an unprecedented rate. At one point, both boasted 150 special grades each."
August's eyes widened at those numbers. The Grade ranking was reserved for Humans, while supernatural species such as Angels, Devils, Vampires, etc. were graded by class. That meant there were at least 300 Ultimate Class Humans under these two pantheons, excluding the Gods. Which was a crazy number, since the current world only has a mere 47 Special Grades.
"Wait, that doesn't add up!" August exclaimed. "Two years ago marked the highest number of special grades recognized in one era - 45 - surpassing a previous record set during the Early Middle Ages. It's also the highest recorded number in history."
"That's right," Satoru confirmed, "The reason why these ancient records are not taken into consideration by the Congress is because they don't believe it. Or rather they don't want to believe it."
"What do you mean?" August asked.
Satoru sighed, "You understand what kind of force these two civilizations possessed, right?" August nodded as Satoru continued gravely, "But these two civilizations vanished one day."
"…Vanished?" August asked incredulously.
"Yes, vanished, without any warning, reason or even trace. All that's left of these civilizations are some ancient records and relics."
"And we still don't know what happened?"
Satoru shook his head, and replied helplessly, "The world has been trying to solve this mystery for over 3 millennia with no success. The Hindu pantheon still exists, but they refuse to divulge anything. And the Heavenly Court is no more."
Shivers tingled down August's spine as he continued the rest of the way in silence, with an ominous feeling knocking at the back of his mind.
After a few more minutes, they stopped in front of a large, unassuming metal door. "This is the entrance to the Library of Stars," Satoru informed him.
August nodded in appreciation and placed his hand on the cool surface of the door. Just as he was about to push it open, Satoru's voice warned from behind. "Remember, you may find answers to your questions in there, but don't always take them at face value. Oh, and you can't take anything out with you."
With that said, he turned heel and walked away.
"Well, that's….foreboding," August thought as he pushed the door and stepped into the pitch-black darkness.
The familiar disorienting feeling washed over him briefly, as his senses informed him he was transported to a different dimension.
The darkness lit up as thousands of dots appeared in the backdrop like stars strewn upon the black canvas of a galaxy; they gradually brightened up, revealing thousands of large shelves, which housed countless books.
'Finally'
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Author-san here!!!
Arc Two ends here!
The next chapter is going to be an interesting one. I hope you all will like it.
But, if you guys want to read the next chapter, and two weeks' worth right now, go visit my Patreon account.
[Link: Patreon.com/Midwintersnow] ['P' lowercase ofc]
Oh, and don't forget to VOTE!
C'Ya tomorrow :)
The purple sun cast long, distorted shadows across the study room of the Balam mansion, its light filtering through the stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of hues onto the pristine leather of the antique desk centred in the middle of the room.
The familiar scent of old books and pipe tobacco lingered in the air, a comforting aroma that had accompanied Landon Balam through centuries of navigating the treacherous waters of underworld politics.
Landon, the current head of the Balam House, bore the physical marks of his long life on his face. Deep lines etched into his skin spoke volumes of worry and apprehension.
A sudden sharp knock on the door startled him, causing him to tighten his grip on his ornate silver cane instinctively. He scanned the room for any signs of intrusion before finally answering the door.
"Enter" he rasped with a voice dryer than the desert winds.
The door creaked open, revealing a figure bathed in the purple light.
Landon felt his heart skip a beat as soon as his eyes fell upon the tall well-built figure entering the room. Lennox, his nephew who had been declared dead just months ago, stood before him, vibrant and alive.
"Lennox?" Landon choked out, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Lennox flashed a smile, but unease flickered behind his eyes. "Uncle Landon...it's good to see you again."
The boy in front of him appeared paler than usual, and there was a new intensity in his gaze that hadn't been there before.
A small twinge of unease crept into Landon's mind as he took in the unfamiliar sharpness around the edges of Lennox's demeanour. He knew his nephew well - his love for a good fight and alcohol, and his musclehead nature. But this Lennox...he seemed different, colder and more guarded.
"How… how is this possible?" Landon stammered, his mind struggling to grasp the impossible reality before him. "The registry…the reports…they all confirmed your death."
Lennox let out a sigh, the smile fading from his face, "It's a long story, Uncle. I was ambushed by a fool claiming to be the Tarot killer. He wanted me to betray the current government and join their cause. I refused, naturally. We fought, and…' His voice dropped to a whisper. "He massacred my peerage. He thought he had killed me, but somehow I managed to escape with my life."
Lennox hung his head down, seeming almost ashamed of having survived such an encounter with nothing but cowardice. But Landon walked up to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Don't blame yourself, boy. You did well. But..."
His mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all. He knew Lennox's strength and mastery of Demonic Technique - for someone to have cornered him so brutally, The Tarot Killer must have been a force to be reckoned with, a shadow lurking in the corners of the underworld unknown to all. Or is it....?
"Who…?" he began, his voice cracking with the weight of suspicion. "Did you discover his identity?"
Lennox's eyes hardened. "Just before he tried to kill me, he said - Those who defy the will of the original rulers meet the same end."
"I'm sure he belongs to The Old Satan Faction! Even their motives match up!"
The news struck Landon like a bolt of lightning. 'The Tarot Killer, the infamous assassin who had been making headlines in the underworld for months, is related to the Old Satan Faction? But why would a group that had been keeping a low profile for centuries be involved in this?'
"Are you sure?....and how did you survive?" The Balam Clan Head's voice quivered with a mix of disbelief and a growing sense of unease.
Lennox's lips twitched into a faint smile. "I discovered something interesting, Uncle."
He held out his hand, revealing a bracelet adorned with intricate carvings. It pulsed with a faint, ethereal glow, its reddish-white energy seemingly flowing through Lennox's body.
"This," Lennox continued, gently rubbing his fingers on the intricate carving on the metallic surface of the bracelet, "saved me. This mysterious artefact....protected me from their attacks and helped me escape."
Landon stared at the bracelet, his mind reeling. Although he was not well versed in ancient artefacts, he could feel the power radiating from it, a power both ancient and terrifying. He understood now why the Registry of Noble Devils had declared Lennox dead. The artefact had masked his presence, shielding him from the prying eyes of the underworld's bureaucracy.
"Uncle, I need your help," Lennox pleaded urgently, desperation evident in his eyes. "I need you to write to the Four Great Satans."
Landon felt a chill crawl down his spine. This was a dangerous request, one that could easily be misinterpreted.
Since they belonged to the noble houses of the 72 Pillars, they were expected to stay loyal to the current devil society, and indirectly to the current incumbent satans. But quite a few Houses of the 72 Pillars had backdoor dealings with the old satan faction, and except for the staunch allies of the current government, it was unwise to opt for all-out hostility with the old Satans.
But he couldn't turn his back on his nephew.
"Tell them about the Old Satan faction," Lennox continued, "their involvement in the attack, their plan. But don't mention my survival. It's too dangerous. They'll come after me if they find out I'm alive and won't hesitate to harm our family. Warn the Satans and request them for protection.'
Landon nodded solemnly and reached for a quill.
He knew the ramifications of such a letter. It could be the spark that ignited the powder keg that was the underworld and result in a war that could very easily destroy the fragile peace between the three factions. But he had to do it. He had to protect his nephew, protect his family.
With a steady hand, as he penned a letter, the words flowed effortlessly signifying the urgency of the situation fueling his pen. He described the attack, the Old Satan faction's involvement, and the threat they posed to the current government. He also stressed the danger he was putting himself in by passing along such sensitive information and emphasized their dire need for official protection.
A loud sigh escaped his mouth as he finished the letter and sealed it with his family crest, before activating a special magic post.
The letter went soaring into the purple sky, before vanishing into a blue portal; carrying hope in the face of impending darkness.
Landon felt a pang of pride in his heart as he watched the pale and drawn-out face of his nephew bravely witnessing the letter disappear into the swirling blue vortex.
"You made the right decision. Help will be on its way soon."
"Thank you, Uncle," Lennox said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for understanding."
With that, he turned to leave but then paused as his eyes met Landon's. A flicker of something dark crossed his face accompanied by a cruel glint that sent a shiver down Landon's spine.
"You see, Uncle," Lennox addressed in a voice cold and devoid of emotion, "you didn't understand. None of you do."
In an instant, even before Landon could flare his magic, Lennox lunged forward with one hand clamping around Landon's throat while the other one pressed the silver bracelet on his uncle's forehead.
Landon Balam was an Ultimate-Class Devil. Not an exceptionally strong one, but still an Ultimate-class. So he got the shock of his life when he saw his nephew moving at speeds even he couldn't react to, and more so at how the silver bracelet stopped him from mobilising even an ounce of his demonic energy. It was as if their connection had been severed.
Struggling to break free from Lennox's grip, Landon's vision blurred as darkness overtook him.
The last thing he felt was a sharp, searing and agonizing tightness, as Lennox's grip squeezed the life out of him.
"You should be grateful," Lennox hissed in a voice laced with chilling amusement. "Grateful to be a part of master's plan."
As Landon took his final breath, Lennox released his grip and cleaned his bloodied hand with a flick of magic. He looked down at the lifeless body with satisfaction.
'Well, time to move on...'
As he turned heel, his gaze swept over the room one last time before finally settling on the shattered remains of the mahogany desk.
He let out a low chuckle, "What a grand mess," he said with a voice marred by unsettling sadism.
With another flick of his wrist, an enormous surge of dark energy engulfed the mansion instantly. The archaic Balam mansion standing as a grand testament to the family's power and wealth, vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving behind only a gaping crater in the ground.
---------
[The Castle of the Great Satan, Lilith, Underworld]
The dishevelled man with green hair walked through the door, plopping down in the only open seat among the four thrones surrounding a circular table.
Satan Beelzebub, one of the three super-devils in existence, loathed being disturbed during his research. His insatiable thirst for knowledge often kept him locked away in his laboratories for days on end, experimenting and theorizing. "Why did you call me?" he grumbled irritably.
Sirzechs Lucifer, his childhood friend and the most powerful devil alive, spoke up. "The Balam family has been wiped out."
It took the smartest and one of the most intelligent beings alive just a microsecond to process the information before his demeanour shifted 180 degrees. "How?" he asked sharply.
Sirzechs handed him a piece of paper. "This just arrived a few hours ago."
Ajuka nodded and read the paper. The information was concise but Ajuka's expression turned more grave the further he read
"I sent Greyfia to investigate," Sirzechs added, "but by the time she got there, nothing was left. The whole estate was vaporized, and in its place stood a massive crater."
Serafall Leviathan, the Satan responsible for external affairs, nodded as she attested to it. "I detected chaotic magical energy at the scene," she said in a delicate, almost childlike whisper, belying the seriousness behind the tone.
"The resurgence of the Old Satans and their followers will have major consequences," Ajuka mused as his mind sped far off, trying to calculate all possibilities.
"Why do these genocidal old manics need to pop up right now?! Urghhh!" Serafall whined like a petulant child, shaking her head so violently that her twin tails whipped around like a storm.
"It certainly complicates things," Sirzechs agreed.
"Right?! Let's declare Black Alert State 5!" Serafall's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint.
"No! Don't be hasty Sera." Ajuka chided her.
Serafall humphed and turned away with her shoulder slumped.
"What do you think Falbium?" she asked in a voice tinged with annoyance.
"..."
But when they didn't get a reply, they all turned towards the Fourth Satan and were met with an all too familiar scene. The Satan in charge of defence and security was sound asleep at the table, expertly dodging his responsibilities with procrastination and napping.
"He's not going to be any help," Sirzechs groaned.
"Obviously," Ajuka commented, rolling his eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's dreaming of fluffy clouds right now."
"Well, what do we do then?" Serafall asked, her voice tinged with frustration.
"We need to find out who is responsible for this," Ajuka replied. "Let's start by investigating the destruction of the Balam Estate."
"Do we even have any leads?" Serafall asked impatiently.
Sirzechs nodded, pulling out a small rectangular metal card from his robe's inside pocket.
"Is that…?" Serafall whispered, her eyes widening in recognition.
"Yes," Sirzechs confirmed.
Between his index finger and thumb was a shiny tarot card with the pictorial representation of The Devil on it.
"How can we be sure it's not a copycat but the real one?" Serafall asked curiously. Since the Tarot Killer first emerged, there have been numerous criminals attempting to imitate him by leaving devil tarot cards at crime scenes.
But they all missed one crucial detail.
"Don't you remember? On the back of the original Tarot Killer's cards, there were two words that we kept secret from the public?" Sirzechs revealed as he flipped over the card.
Serafall's eyes widened in recognition as she read the red letters inscribed on the metallic card - Rose Redemption.
*******************************
Author-san here!!!
This chapter is more of an interlude (Still very canonically important). Arc 3 starts from the next chapter. And we will be returning to schedule starting next week.
But, if you guys want to read the next chapter, and two weeks' worth right now, go visit my Patreon account.
[Link: Patreon.com/Midwintersnow] ['P' lowercase ofc]
Oh, and don't forget to VOTE!
C'Ya :)
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