Malphas sat at the head of the obsidian table, his elbows planted firmly on the polished surface, his fingers interlaced to form a bridge for his chin. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling in a slow, measured breath that seemed to pull the very temperature of the room down with it. When he finally opened them, the concentric circles of his Mystic Eyes weren't just spinning, they were glowing with a lethal, incandescent crimson that illuminated the hollows of his face.

  "Before we begin," Malphas said, his voice a low, resonant vibration that made the tea in the cups ripple, "I’d like for the rat scurrying in the rafters above us to stop hiding and take a seat. Come down, Demon Lord Balam."

  The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by Kaelen’s sharp intake of breath. The Lord of Gold looked up toward the shadowy balcony, his predatory eyes narrowing. "Well, now, to think I didn't notice you until now. You’re getting far too good at playing the vermin, Balam."

  Cordelia, on the other hand, simply leaned back in her high-quality chair, her red cape draping elegantly over the dragon-hide upholstery. She didn't even look up, her arms crossed beneath her chest as she let out a bored, melodious hum. "Still as shy as a maiden in her first ballroom, I see. How tragic."

  Out of the pitch-black darkness of the upper square hole, a swirling mass of oily, black smoke detached itself from the rafters. It descended with the weightless grace of a falling leaf, hitting the floor without a sound before solidifying into a physical form.

  Demon Lord Balam stood before them, looking every bit the reclusive sorcerer. He was swathed in heavy, midnight-blue robes embroidered with silver constellations that seemed to shift and twinkle in the dim light. His face was pale, almost translucent, framed by lank, raven hair that hung over eyes that flickered like dying embers. Around his neck hung various charms made of bone and ancient glass, clinking softly as he adjusted his stance.

  "Seems like I got noticed," Balam rasped, his voice sounding like dry parchment rubbing together. "Stupid of me to think that I could hide among fellow Demon Lords when Malphas is playing host with those eyes of his."

  "And why would you even sneak in and hide if you can sit here and get served like spoiled brats?" Cordelia asked, her eyes finally opening to track him with a look of playful disdain. "We have the best tea in the world, and you’re up there breathing in dust and spiderwebs. Honestly, Balam, your social skills are deteriorating."

  Balam ignored her jab, his gaze sweeping over the table as he claimed a seat far from the others. "My social skills are the least of my concerns. My castle was attacked by monsters a few days ago. I sent my territory’s finest hunters and most seasoned knights to find out who was behind it. None of them returned."

  He leaned forward, the bone charms on his chest rattling. "I received word that you, Malphas, were in the same location as some of my trackers. Those men never came back either. I can bet this meeting is about those attacks, since if my knowledge is correct, multiple territories were hit. Summoning all of us to one area after such a coordinated strike... well, if there’s a traitor among us, this is where the reveal happens. I was simply being careful."

  "Well, if any Demon Lord is suspicious now, it’s you, Balam," Kaelen interrupted, a sharp smirk cutting across his face. "Skulking in the ceiling while we’re trying to have a civilized drink? That’s practically a confession in my book."

  Balam turned to him, his ember-like eyes flashing with sudden irritation. "Just shut up, you damn fool."

  Kaelen’s left eye started flickering, a sign of his rising temper. He slammed a hand onto the obsidian table, the gold rings on his fingers clattering loudly. "Shut up, eh? And why should I? You’re the one who lost an entire squad of hunters to a single ghost in the woods."

  Balam raised an eyebrow, his expression turning cold. "The summoning of those beasts began in your territory, Kaelen, and yet you did nothing. You sat in your golden palace and watched while the rot spread. If anyone here should shut up and listen to the adults, it is you."

  Cordelia, while sitting back and pretending to fall asleep, opened a single eye to watch Kaelen’s face turn a magnificent shade of insulted crimson. She felt a twinge of amusement at the bickering, but her gaze quickly drifted back to Malphas. She had no interest in Kaelen's bravado or Balam's paranoia.

  "So, why did you summon us, Malphas?" she asked, her voice cutting through the growing argument like a silk ribbon. "Before these two start measuring the size of their egos and knock over my tea, tell us what you found."

  Malphas didn't answer immediately. Instead, he allowed his aura to flare. It wasn't a violent burst, but a steady, crushing increase in pressure that filled every corner of the room. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of ozone and ancient stone. Balam and Kaelen both stiffened, their bickering dying in their throats as they felt the sheer weight of Malphas’s intent. He was reminding them that while they were guests, he was the master of this domain.

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  "I understand your caution, Balam," Malphas said, the pressure receding just enough for them to breathe comfortably again. "But next time, use the door. If there were a traitor or a snitch in this room, my eyes would have seen through their soul before they even crossed the threshold."

  He leaned forward, the golden embroidery on his high-collared coat catching the flickering light. "As you all know, multiple castles were attacked. But notice the pattern, it wasn't a raid on the territories. The villages were left untouched. The trade routes remained open. This was a direct strike at the leadership. In the journey I took with my Head Butler and the maid who served you earlier, we found crucial information."

  Kaelen scoffed, though he looked more attentive now. "A maid? You’re basing a war council on the observations of a girl who pours tea?"

  "That girl," Malphas said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register, "has seen things your best scouts could never imagine. She is the reason we have a name. The one behind the summoning is a figure called the Black Rider. His actual name is Kaelos. I captured him briefly in the mountains of the south."

  Malphas reached into his coat and pulled out a small, glowing memory crystal, placing it on the table. A projection flickered into the air, showing a battered man.

  The voice of Kaelos rasped through the room: "My goal... was to anger the Demon Lords. I underestimated your judgment. I wanted you to fight each other. That failed, so I set this trap... but it failed."

  The projection shifted, showing a tall, jagged tower and the ambush that had nearly claimed them. Then, the atmosphere in the room changed completely as a new figure appeared in the memory. A man in a tattered, bloodied white mask, moving with a speed that defied logic. He grabbed Kaelos by the collar and, before the Malphas in the memory could react, both vanished into black smoke.

  "That figure in the mask," Malphas continued, his face a mask of grim resolve. "Is known as Jack the Ripper. He is an anomaly, a void in the mana. He attacked my castle while I was away, nearly killing my generals before escaping. And the man he rescued, Kaelos? He wasn't working alone. He was serving an old master."

  Malphas paused, letting the silence stretch until Cordelia reached out to touch the rim of her cup, her playful demeanor finally fading.

  "The old Demon Lord’s name," Malphas said, each word hitting like a hammer, "is Vorgath the Despiser."

  The reaction was instantaneous. Balam’s pale face went a shade whiter, and Kaelen actually recoiled, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

  "Vorgath?" Kaelen stammered, his confident smirk vanishing. "That’s impossible. He ruled this territory almost a thousand years ago. He was erased. The Great War ended him!"

  "He was an evil, power-hungry monster," Cordelia whispered, her voice losing its teasing lilt. "I remember the histories. He only allowed freedom to those born in his own shadow. He slaughtered the Lords of the neighboring lands just to claim a few miles of dirt. He was a tyrant who experimented with chimeras... forbidden magic that stitched souls together."

  And this 'Jack the Ripper' figure? According to the information I’ve gathered, he was a human from another world who died over two hundred years ago. Either he was reincarnated here with his memories intact, or Vorgath used a spell so powerful it reached through time and space to summon a legendary killer to serve him."

  "A dead human and a dead god," Balam muttered, his fingers twitching over his charms. "If Vorgath is truly returning, he won't stop at your borders, Malphas. He’ll want everything. He’ll want the Kingdom of Hearts, the Golden Domain... he’ll want the world back under his heel."

  "Exactly," Malphas said. "Which is why I am proposing a unified front. We cannot hunt a ghost if we are fighting each other."

  Kaelen stood up abruptly, his crimson silks billowing. "Work together? Malphas, you know the laws as well as I do. It is forbidden for Demon Lords to form official alliances for war. The seals on our power are designed to prevent exactly that. If we move as one, the world’s mana will destabilize."

  He shook his head, his golden hair shimmering with nervous energy. "I’m going back. I have a territory to protect, walls to reinforce. I will not use my name or my men to start a war with a legend like Vorgath the Despiser. If he comes to my gate, I’ll deal with him, but I’m not chasing him into the fog with you."

  Balam stood as well, his form beginning to flicker into shadow once more. "I agree with the fool for once. There is nothing I can do here. Thank you for the information, Malphas. The tea was... acceptable. But I have my own graves to guard."

  Without another word, Balam dissolved into a cloud of smoke and dust, vanishing back into the shadows from which he came. Kaelen followed shortly after, marching out the doors without looking back, his boots echoing with the sound of a man running from a nightmare.

  Soon, only Malphas and Cordelia were left in the vast, silent hall.

  Cordelia sighed, picking up her cup and finishing the last drop of tea. She looked at Malphas, her eyes softening into that old, familiar gaze she used to reserve for him back when they were younger.

  "They're cowards, Malphas," she said softly, her voice returning to its playful, slightly sultry tone. "But then again, they were always better at talking than fighting. It looks like it’s just us beauties left to save the world, doesn't it?"

  Malphas looked at her, the glow in his eyes fading into a weary, human exhaustion. "It seems so, Cordelia. It seems so."

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  Back in our shared quarters, Lyra and I were sitting on the edges of our beds. I was still shaking from the pressure of the room, my hands buried in the folds of my apron.

  "Did you see them, Lyra?" I whispered. "The way they looked at each other? It wasn't like a meeting. It was like a standoff."

  Lyra was busy untying her hair, her expression uncharacteristically grim. "That’s how it always is with them, Akari. They’re like gods who forgot how to be people. But if Master is worried enough to call them all here... then the stories about that Jack person are only the beginning."

  I looked out the window at the swirling purple sky, the black clouds looking more like a shroud than ever before. Somewhere out there, a man in a white mask was waiting. And somewhere deeper in the shadows, a King from a thousand years ago was waking up. I gripped the 15% mana strap on my arm, the steady hum of it the only thing keeping me grounded in a world that was rapidly falling apart.

  "I just hope the tea was good enough," I murmured.

  Lyra let out a small, tired laugh. "Trust me, kid. In this castle, tea is the only thing that actually works."