A Seat in the Front Row, I Couldn't Wait to Commit Evil with Everyone

Ichaint raced like lightning toward the distant black speck. That blot of "ink" swelled at an explosive speed.

But he still wanted to go faster.

More than anything, he wanted to crash into Beelzebub looking travel-worn, so she could see how sincerely and urgently he wished to serve in the Apocalypse War.

And intercept her, keeping her farther from their landing site.

Too many suspicious traces had been left in the Fang Desert. He did not want to look suspicious. Especially when he was at his most suspicious.

"Teacher..."

"It's Duke, Villed," Ichaint corrected.

"Your Grace. What should I do?"

"Observe." Ichaint looked ahead, where a thirteen-holed vertical bridge made of rotten flesh connected heaven and earth. "Don't you have a coin? And a few little tricks."

"That's enough?" Nese asked in confusion. His demonic form retained his curled golden hair and slender frame, while blue flames burned in his eyes, making him look rather scholarly.

"Oh. And stay alive. You aren't immortal yet," Ichaint said. He was not a true demon yet. Demons were all immortal, unless their souls were shattered.

It would be best to keep a low profile for this meeting.

Launching a direct attack on the King of All Demons without any preparation would be rather laughable. The urgent priority was to buy time and gather information.

The young warlock could be trained again, but it would be best if he did not die.

Besides, while Beelzebub's rank gave her nearly unlimited suppression over other demons, Ichaint was not entirely without means.

He merely needed to prepare thoroughly...

Three pitch-black figures suddenly appeared in the archway directly before him.

"Duke Ichaint," a voice sharper than an awl called out.

Ten million flies pelted down on him like raindrops.

"Chaos above." Ichaint stopped and spoke loudly, as if afraid they would not hear him.

With ten million flies buzzing around his ears, he swept his gaze over them. Beelzebub had not come.

Her flies had arrived, but she had not.

"Chaos above, we gather here today—" the voice sharper than an awl declared loudly.

The speaking demon had a crow-like head, a wolfskin skirt around his waist, and an unsheathed sharp sword tucked into it.

He stood at the front, with two lower-ranking demons behind him.

Ichaint had little contact with the crow-headed demon. He only knew that his name was Andras, a captain responsible for managing and reviewing information on all high-ranking demons.

"...to commit evil together." The two lower-ranking demons and Ichaint lowered their heads at the same time, devoutly or seemingly devoutly echoing the words.

Andras gripped his sword hilt, his expression solemn. "My lord's forces shall cast a thousand worlds into seas of fire..."

"Enough, enough. I can't wait. I haven't slept a wink. Duke Andras." Ichaint pretended to start coughing. "What is it? I've been searching the whole world for the great King of All Demons, Beelzebub. Where is she?"

The lion-bodied demon to Andras's right froze for a moment. Ichaint recognized him as Bile, a minor baron. "But she's clearly looking for you. She told us..."

"Yes. Exactly right. That's right. I'm looking for her too. A few accidents happened in between. No one wanted those accidents to happen. I suppose we missed each other. I can no longer endure my longing to return to our great army."

Ichaint said hypocritically, "I hope there's still a seat for me in the front row."

Bile and the other demon were clearly somewhat moved by him. But Andras seemed a little smarter.

"A seat in the front row. And our respect. You still have both." Andras stared at him ominously. Ichaint detected a hint of sour malice in his tone. "If you keep acting however you please, you soon won't."

Acting however he pleased.

Ichaint noticed the phrase and could not help admiring Andras's ability to use such advanced vocabulary. If only the demons he had once taught possessed that level of knowledge.

The higher a demon's rank and the more noble its status, the better education it received. That was simply how things were.

"By the way, is she at the palace? Mount Kishino? Flame Cliff? Burning Fire Valley? The Flesh-Forging Pool?"

He nodded at Andras, trying to look very familiar with Beelzebub. It would help him get through more quickly. "The Flesh-Forging Pool, right? She likes the smell there best."

"The Enemy of God, King of All Demons, King of Flies, Queen of Hell, Thousand-Eyed Demon, the great Lady Beelzebub, is at the Flesh-Forging Pool preparing a mobilization speech for the Forty-Fifth through Sixty-Sixth Legions." Andras raised his chin, cold vapor streaming from his oval nostrils.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Ichaint put on a pained expression—this required him to imagine a stack of precious first-edition books being burned.

"You may go see her now," Andras said coldly.

"Excellent. Keep up, Villed." He waved at the three demons before him and cheerfully prepared to fly away.

Nese discreetly tugged at his sleeve.

"I meant together with us." Andras's claw pressed against his sword hilt. He leaned forward slightly, his face as stiff as ice.

With a wave of his hand, Bile and the other lower-ranking demon spread out to either side and circled behind him.

The three demons formed a triangular encirclement around him.

Ichaint understood what they meant.

"Is this necessary?"

He leaned back and bared his teeth in a smile, his hand naturally hanging beside the dark iron scimitar—he truly did not want to use it.

"Duke Ichaint. We fear that you may encounter another accident."

"Oh, there's no need for that. I can protect myself. Look, I'm a mature demon now."

"No, no, no. No. No."

Andras beat his wings and flew before him, staring at him with malicious intent. "There are simply too many accidents in this world. For example, disappearing before the Apocalypse War's muster, or accidentally attending a class with some angel."

Andras let out a shrill laugh. "Though we all understand that a demon who seeks knowledge must love attending class."

Ichaint felt a blade-sharp chill slash across his heart.

They had investigated him.

He hoped they had not breached the protections in the courtyard designed against high-ranking demons.

There were far too many things he could not allow them to see.

"Do you really think those were accidents?"

After a moment of silence, Ichaint suddenly spoke coldly.

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"Sorry. I can't tell you." Ichaint spread his hands and returned his stare with one just as sharp. "I don't trust you. I only trust the King of All Demons."

Nese secretly glanced at the True Coin hidden in his cuff—his demon teacher was bluffing.

"The King of All Demons saved me a seat in the front row. Not you, Duke Andras." Ichaint stressed his words. "I want to see her. Alone. Afterward, I won't mind if you sit beside me."

Andras's gloomy gray eyes fixed themselves on Ichaint.

"This..." Bile unconsciously muttered.

"You see, the King of All Demons trusts me. But you don't trust me."

Ichaint watched the feathers atop Andras's head slowly rise. "I don't think I need to repeat such a disrespectful fact again."