Ignoring the imposing security guard at the entrance of the nightclub, Morgana and Bilqis walked into the Marid's Cave without hindrance, obviously due to Zafir's orders.
The brightly lit atmosphere didn't bother the two women at all. The club, decorated in an elegant oriental theme, hadn't changed a bit since two days ago.
A light blue haze hung in the air, filled with the scent of lust and debauchery. The electronic music with oriental tones reverberated throughout the club.
Morgana didn't take Bilqis to the bar or to a table; instead, she dragged her friend to the dance floor, where men and women danced wildly to the electronic beats with oriental notes. People danced as if there were no tomorrow, kissing and swapping partners as easily as changing clothes.
But whether male or female, no one approached the space where the two powerful women danced. It seemed as though everyone unconsciously avoided them.
Morgana raised her arms and danced, rubbing her body against Bilqis's. The Queen of Sheba imitated her the next second, and the two women danced wildly, releasing any previously repressed emotions.
"It's been a while since we danced like this!" Morgana shouted in Bilqis's ear, her voice barely audible over the deafening music.
"Yes! The last time was in Egypt, celebrating Anubis's death," Bilqis replied loudly, her smile excited and euphoric. She sensually moved her body to the music, completely carefree.
"That stupid dog died well; we should have destroyed his pyramid!" Morgana responded, pressing her slender body against Bilqis's. Her voice echoed clearly in the Queen of Sheba's mind.
"The Egyptian pantheon would have gone to war with us," Bilqis whispered in Morgana's ear, her voice cheerful and amused, seemingly very happy in the moment.
"It doesn't matter; we'd kill gods like we did in the old days!" Morgana laughed loudly and danced around Bilqis's body, the ancient witch who once terrorized the island of Great Britain now appearing like any young twenty-year-old.
Bilqis laughed at her words and danced even more wildly, pushing all distracting thoughts away and expressing herself through music and dance.
Half an hour later, Morgana grabbed a glass of champagne from a waitress. She handed one glass to Bilqis and downed the other in one gulp, drinking the liquid in an instant. Perhaps tired of dancing, Morgana took Bilqis's hand, and both women collapsed onto a circular sofa with loud laughter.
"That was fun," Morgana said with a smile on her lips, her green eyes looking mischievously at her friend. She leaned closer to Bilqis's ear and whispered provocatively, "I noticed that while you were dancing, your eyes kept drifting towards a certain someone."
The blush already present on the Queen of Sheba's cheeks deepened instantly, and she cursed her own desires for not being able to stop looking at Daemom while dancing.
At the mention of him, Bilqis's eyes fell upon the young man behind the bar. She noticed how handsome he looked in the uniform she had prepared herself, with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, revealing his strong, toned arms. His golden hair, like strands of gold, fell casually over his beautiful face. Those lips smiled gently at a human woman who was clearly flirting with him.
Bilqis didn't want to admit it, but she wanted to reduce that human woman to ashes for flirting with Daemom.
"Hehehe~" Seeing the increasingly dangerous look in her friend's eyes, Morgana's lips curled into an amused smile. How long had it been since she'd seen Bilqis feel jealous? She didn't know, but she found the situation incredibly entertaining.
With a curious glance, Morgana's eyes fell on Daemom, but in the next moment, her smile vanished, and her expression showed horror and disbelief.
How in Satan's name could she sense that her contract was under the jurisdiction of the young man!?
Was that young man Lucifer in disguise?
Morgana dismissed this possibility the second it crossed her mind. Like any witch who had come of age at 16, she had signed her name in the Book of the Beast, making a contract with the very King of Hell—something all witches did at sixteen.
The terms of the contract were simple: Lucifer would grant power and make the witches immortal, preventing them from dying of old age. The witches had only one responsibility: to serve Lucifer Morningstar for eternity.
No witch had ever minded serving Lucifer for all eternity because, in the entire history of witchcraft, Lucifer had never commanded anything of the Witch Court. It could be said that the witches gained power and longevity at an almost negligible price.
But at this moment, Morgana felt that her powers and longevity were under the control of the young man!
There was only one possibility: the Book of the Beast was in the young man's possession, but to use it, the book's owner had to be a descendant of Lucifer…
Taking a deep breath, Morgana Le Fay—one of the Twelve Great Witches of the Witch Court—considered an insane possibility, something she had never thought she would see in her lifetime, not even in her worst nightmares.
What stood before her wasn't Lucifer; it was someone technically more special than the entire Infernal Realm, a being prophesied by the Omniscient and Omnipotent God Himself.
Lucifer's son—the Antichrist!
A shiver ran through Morgana, sending chills all over her body. At that exact moment, she regretted coming to Portland; things were definitely not as simple as she and the entire supernatural community had imagined.
Furthermore, she discovered the identity of the person the demons were hunting. It wasn't an exorcist priest, as everyone had imagined, but none other than the Prince of Hell himself.
Just imagining what would happen if such a shocking revelation spread, Morgana clutched her hair and showed a dignified expression. Things had become immensely complicated!
With her intelligence and experience in attempting to usurp a throne, Morgana already knew that the Infernal Duke had discovered the young man's identity and was hunting him to eliminate his greatest threat to the Abyssal Throne of Hell.
Moreover, she couldn't ignore the situation before her, not when all her powers and longevity were in the hands of the Antichrist, who would definitely not be kind given the prophecy spoken by God.
As countless thoughts raced through Morgana's mind, she noticed two incredibly blue eyes staring directly at her. Another shiver ran through her body under that gaze. A feeling of reverence filled her heart, and she wanted to kneel right at that moment.
If Morgana had been any other ordinary witch, she would already be on her knees, respectfully greeting the young man. However, she wasn't an ordinary witch; her magical energy forced that feeling to the back of her mind, greatly relieving the pressure on her soul.
She knew this was a consequence of the contract she and all the witches in the world had signed to become immortal—eternal servitude to their lord.
Yet, this was also an opportunity. An opportunity for her to go further, to gain power that no other witch had ever obtained in the history of the human world. A bold idea appeared in Morgana's mind and refused to disappear, taking root in her subconscious.
What if she helped the Prince of Hell ascend to the Abyssal Throne of Hell? Would she gain more power?
If there was a witch with the greatest lust for power in the history of the human world, it was Morgana Le Fay herself. She could burn an entire country with millions of people without hesitation or even a blink, all for the sake of gaining more power.
There was nothing she wouldn't do if it served her interests, and if it meant gaining more power, she couldn't refuse.
Morgana's eyes locked onto the young man, filled with an insatiable greed for power, a greed so strong that it seemed like a swirling vortex of darkness in her green eyes.
Morgana knew that her desires, long hidden for thousands of years, had exploded all at once. But this made her bold, purple-stained lips curve into a malicious smile.
Her body screamed like a demonic choir of sin and desire.
She wanted more power.