White Contract

The blurry image before him changed again.

The pale blue glimmer of dreamlight vanished completely. Against an endless black-red backdrop, a white figure stood nearby.

Yifomiet felt something soft and sticky pressed against his temple withdraw.

Yan Feng's scorched, dusty scent flooded into his nostrils.

He squeezed the scarlet spear in his hand.

Sorena's bones. The Extermination Destruction Cone.

It was a dream.

Of course.

All of this had long since passed.

"I correct my mistake." The white figure across from him spoke in a gentle, magnetic voice. "The one clever enough to grasp the method of transformation on her own wasn't you. It was Sorena."

What...

He thought hazily.

What had I just been doing...

What did that voice just say?

It seemed to be saying Sorena was clever.

That was only natural. Sorena was obviously the best.

But how did this being before him know that...

Yifomiet realized his right foreclaw was raised in a blocking stance, holding back the other fellow's left hand.

This guy read my memories...

After quite some time, Yifomiet finally remembered his name.

The being opposite him was called Ichaint. It seemed they had been fighting just now.

Before he could think any further, that glowing white hand swiftly pulled away.

"But it seems... you need proper guidance more." That fellow's sunlike voice rang out again.

No, he thought.

What he needed was...

"Based on your dream, I suppose revenge is important to you?" Ichaint interrupted his thoughts unhurriedly. "So, have you accomplished it?"

Yifomiet could see only a vague outline, yet he could sense the intense energy of order emanating from Ichaint.

This guy was strong.

That sobered him up a little. He had to take his current situation seriously.

"No," he said coldly.

He had yet to take revenge... He had been forced to remain on the Prime Material Plane, waiting for Xiqisi to come of age.

Yet not for a single moment had he forgotten those events.

Almost at the exact moment Xiqisi came of age, the summons for the Apocalypse War arrived. The conditions finally seemed ripe.

Only then had he returned without hesitation.

Not long after being recalled to Chaos Hell, before he had even managed to do anything, Beelzebub immediately sensed his level of power and came looking for him.

Beelzebub greatly praised his unbelievable increase in strength and granted him the rank of Grand Duke, second only to one and above ten thousand.

He had once desperately wanted a higher rank. That way, his whole family could remain in Chaos Hell, and no one would dare gossip about them again.

But after Sorena died, he had gradually forgotten about it.

Until now, when he realized the position of Grand Duke was still somewhat useful.

It would make it easier for him to search for the demon that might have killed Sorena. The harpies had said that a demon without ears had delivered her bones.

He just had to wait until the Apocalypse War ended.

He did not care much about the Apocalypse War. But every demon had to place the command of the King of Demons above all else. It had nothing to do with willingness; it was a compulsive force carved into their blood.

He could wait.

"How about this? I can help you take revenge, but you have to promise me three things." Ichaint interrupted his thoughts.

"This is my own business."

"Then what if I said it might be possible to revive Sorena?"

Yifomiet unconsciously tightened his grip on the spear.

Revive...

This guy might, of course, just be talking nonsense. All demons loved talking nonsense. Ichaint had once been a demon; he knew that.

Sorena had taught him that basic knowledge, such as: fairies had no souls. How could something without a soul be revived? There was no precedent for it.

"Impossible. No one's ever succeeded," Yifomiet said.

"I said it is."

The fellow did not argue or explain anything. He had to be talking nonsense...

But he...

Yifomiet stared at the white figure. Even with his vision severely impaired, he could still sense that blinding holy radiance.

Ichaint. He was no ordinary high-ranking demon.

He had effortlessly destroyed Andras.

He knew strange things that no other demon knew. He could create dreams, dissolve memories, and read them.

Even when his chaotic energy had been completely locked down and he was under Beelzebub's mental corruption, he had still fought him to a standstill using those countless tricks.

Under extreme interference, he had accomplished an almost impossible transformation. And he had transformed into a demon's greatest enemy—an angel.

He could actually escape the control of the King of Demons...

Ichaint. Memories connected to that name surfaced in his mind.

The Knowledge-Seeking Demon.

For sixteen hundred years, this fellow had taught knowledge to the lowest and most ignorant demons of Chaos Hell. Though at the time, Yifomiet had been busy secretly meeting Sorena and had not attended.

The most learned being in all of Chaos Hell...

He said there was a way.

He said it might be possible to revive Sorena...

"Tell me your terms," Yifomiet said after a moment of silence.

The demon legions on the ground and in the sky erupted into unrest.

"Grand Duke Asmodeus! What are you doing?" One of his commanders approached, his voice carrying shock and anger.

Irritably, he waved his right foreclaw. The commander shattered into a vast spray of finely minced flesh.

The low-ranking demons fell silent.

A few demons sensed trouble and covertly tried to slip away, only for their bodies and brains to explode almost simultaneously beneath strikes from the Extermination Destruction Cone.

Yifomiet returned to stand before Ichaint.

It was so quiet that one could seemingly hear the River of Sulfur flowing backward in the sky.

No demon soldier dared move.

"Please continue," Yifomiet said.

"First, your army must withdraw from here. Restore whatever can be restored to its original state." Ichaint pointed to the floating island below, which looked as though a tornado had swept through it. "Second, you may no longer voluntarily assist Beelzebub in battle. And you may no longer harm the people—uh, fellows—around me."

"Those are acceptable. What's the last condition?"

Ichaint smiled faintly.

"Most importantly, you may no longer waste your abilities. You must accept the training method I arrange for you. Also, I have a great deal of research to do. Once I finish what I'm currently working on, you can choose one project to assist me with."

Yifomiet stroked the scarlet spear in his hand.

"By the way, what has the holy angel been saying all this time? Why can't I understand any of it?"

Among the Fallen Angel Cult, the short, dark-skinned demon finally could not hold back any longer and grabbed the bishop beside him.

"The holy angel's intentions are unfathomable." Sankarabi's face was full of reverence.

"Oh—great!"

The short demon began clapping. The entire cult, dazed and confused, began clapping as well, praising him with all manner of words.

"I agree," Yifomiet said.

A faint murmur rose from the demon legion, then quickly subsided.

Ichaint drew a sigil on his other palm.

"Sign here." He held that hand out before Yifomiet's face.

The sigil shone with dazzling white light in his palm. Unlike strict and brutal blood pacts, this sort of contract spell using the energy of laws was relatively common, generally used to bind ordinary conduct.

Once the terms were confirmed, it only needed a signature to take effect.

The minotaur lowered his head and wrote "Yifomiet" on that palm, then crossed it out and changed it to "Asmodeus."

Yifomiet and Sankarabi joined the team. The main cast operated as a party, so there would be more focus on the companions.