The black-haired woman in white robes had the same exquisite, perfectly proportioned features Angel remembered. Her bearing was as holy as Viève's had been moments earlier, but her crystalline blue eyes were cold, without a trace of life. Her expression was less vacant than deathly, like the corpses in the neighboring tombs.
She—no, She was Krismona, the Demoness of Catastrophe who had fallen in the Trier of that time during the Four Emperors War!
The angel's residual soul had appeared without a sound. Neither Angel's hearing nor her spirituality had detected anything. Of course, that was partly because the other woman bore no malice; otherwise, her spirituality would have given her at least some warning.
"Lady Krismona?"
Angel stood where she was, an arm's length from the black-haired woman, and spoke tentatively, practically face-to-face with her.
To ensure this relic of the Fourth Epoch could understand, she deliberately used Ancient Hermes.
The black-haired woman's sapphire eyes stared fixedly at Angel, gradually lighting up from within, much as Angel's did when she used her eyes as mirrors for divination.
After a moment, she slowly nodded and answered in an ethereal voice that nevertheless held boundless allure:
"It is I."
It really is that Demoness of Catastrophe's ghost. This form only makes her holiness more pronounced. Even an ordinary saint would probably be lost in this charm. Fortunately, I'm a Demoness myself... Angel's thoughts raced as she looked at Krismona, whose outline was slightly blurred and whose body faintly let the illusory candlelight shine through. She felt as though she were performing some special spirit-channeling ritual.
Thus, she quickly selected a relatively simple question that could establish whether the other woman was being honest:
"Are you the Primordial Demoness's divine child?"
Krismona retained her wooden expression and gave a slight nod.
"I