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Chapter 60 (1 of 2) The Judge of Tartarus and an Authorizer regretting his life choices.
🕑 Added 2024-01-22 12:40:01 +0000 UTC-A few minutes earlier-
The carriage climbed up the cobbled road, paved with polished marble and lined with luxurious flora. Fences made of light blue metal lead the way up the small mountain, where the towering Aethereal Palace sat on top, overlooking the City of the Cerulean Duchy.
Lucille was riding in the carriage sent by the Archduke to head to the Aethereal Palace. Sitting on a mountain with the city sprawled out beneath, the palace looked peaceful and serene with its colours and the protective shields glinting as they covered it. Another Aether ward was extending from the palace, covering the entire city. If Lucy hadn’t known his true identity, then the sight before her would be enjoyable.
As it was, she couldn’t stop comparing it to the Daemonium Palace Stronghold and the demon she knew was ruling over them both. The cities were so starkly different that she was trying to reconcile them with their ruler. She supposed the City of the Cerulean Duchy was just evidence that the person the realms knew as the Primordial Demon was a capable ruler… when he wanted to be.
Unlike a normal Duchy palace, there was very little traffic going into or out of the estate. She had spotted only three other carriages on her trip up the mountain, most belonging to the servants and workers. Lucille knew that the military barracks were kept on the other side of the city, which could reduce some traffic, but it was still strangely quiet along the cobbled road. However, the Aethereal Duchy was known to be the most closed-off and isolated Duchy.
The ornate coach she was in rolled up to the gates, and the towering silver barrier slowly rose to let the carriage in. They moved past the front gardens, magical plants present that were even more powerful than the ones at the Commission’s Headquarters. It took another twenty minutes before the carriage pulled to a stop at the front door.
The first of many stressful meetings was about to begin.
…
A servant was waiting for her near the front door, so she followed his lead through the main entrance. As she didn’t dare to expand her perception field, she devoted her mental energy to observing her surroundings. Decorated more lavishly than the Aethereal Estate in the Capital, it was still unusually simplistic for a noble building. It bore many similarities to the Daemonium Palace, which only had enough to showcase the Demon Emperor’s power without being excessive.
In fact… the Aethereal Palace was way too similar. A strange sensation of déjà vu assaulted her as she followed the servant, realising that the placement of corridors and rooms was nearly the same as the Demon Emperor’s palace.
Is he actually picky about his home or too apathetic to bother to change anything? Well, if nobody ever normally survives meeting the Demon Emperor… then the Archduke wouldn’t need to worry about anyone noticing the similarities.
The servant bowed and opened a door to a room that contained several lounges and a low table. She nodded and sat down, prepared to wait, but wondering just how long she’d have to wait before the Archduke visited. Luckily, it turned out that the reason why she was directed to a waiting room was for an entirely different purpose.
“…Count Goldcroft?”
The room of the door opened again to reveal the very bemused and surprised face of Count Daymar Bentsen. He was wearing a simpler suit compared to the luxurious one he wore during the banquet, obviously because he was working as the Archduke’s aide.
Lucille stood up and bowed, a fist placed against her chest. “Good morning, Count Bentsen. It is a pleasure to see you again.”
“I…” He put a fist up to his mouth and coughed, stepping into the room. “Ah, yes, the same to you as well.” He shut the door behind him, approaching her with a look of confusion. “I must say, I am incredibly surprised to see you here. Most nobility can’t enter through the gates without the Archduke’s explicit permission. Is there some urgent situation or emergency you’ve come to speak to us about?”
She blinked. Has he forgotten?
Lucy shook her head with a smile. “Not at all. I was picked up by one of the Duchy’s carriages, which was why I was able to pass the gates. I’ve just come for the first regular meeting that was arranged with His Grace.”
The Count stared at her. “…His Grace? A regular meeting? With him?”
She tilted her head, feeling mildly confused herself. He’s the Archduke’s aide, surely he- no, maybe...
“…did His Grace not inform you that a meeting between him and me on the fifteenth of every second month had been arranged?”
Count Bentsen continued staring at her and then turned his head to stare at what was presumably the direction of the Archduke. “It appears… he hasn’t.” An unusual expression flickered across his face before he turned back to her and dipped his head. “Please excuse me for a moment, Count Goldcroft.”
Lucy nodded and sat back down as he left the room. Around ten minutes later, he returned, looking slightly frustrated. When the Count saw her looking he hid his expression with a smile. “I apologise, I just needed to check something. You are very welcome to come to the Aethereal Palace. I will take you to the Archduke.”
Lucille stood up and followed Count Bentsen as he walked through the hallways, leading her to a circular room at the end of a corridor. They walked in and he pressed a button on the wall, revealing the room to be an elevator as a mana-circle manifested beneath their feet, rising higher.
Lucille glanced at the Count. “Will you be joining us for the meeting?”
“Unfortunately, I will be preoccupied with my other tasks, so I won’t,” he replied with a shake of his head. “But I’ll send a servant to provide you with refreshments and your noon meal.”
“Oh? Not in a dining hall?” she asked curiously.
The Count’s expression became slightly awkward. “He… ah, His Grace prefers to eat in his study. He doesn’t like to leave that part of the palace often.”
The conversation was halted as the lift slowed, and Count Bentsen stepped out. They continued walking until they reached a pair of white double doors at the end of a hallway. The Count gestured to the doors. “Here is His Grace’s study.”
The brown-haired man rapped his hand against a door. “Your Grace, I have brought Count Goldcroft of the Aurelian Commission.”
“You may enter,” a low voice replied, sounding indifferent.
Count Bentsen opened the doors and walked in, Lucille following close behind. What awaited them was a room with blue wallpaper, and darker blue silk curtains framing the two tall windows, one opposite the doors and one to Lucy’s left. Behind her in the left corner of the room was a fireplace of white brick, pale blue magical flames flickering within with seemingly no fuel. A white and blue rug covered the floor and directly in front of Lucy and the Count was a pair of two couches parallel to the wall behind them, no table between them.
On the other side of the couches was a desk made of dark lacquered wood, fine carvings decorating it on all sides. A black inkwell sat on the table next to some stacks of paper and a stationery box containing assorted colours of luxurious rollerball pens.
And behind the desk sat a tall, white-haired individual wearing a blue outfit, a slight frown on his face as he read the formal documents of his Duchy. He didn’t look up when he heard them enter. “You may return to your tasks, Bentsen,” the Archduke ordered. One of the two large windows of the room formed a backdrop behind him.
Count Bentsen bowed and after sending one last look at Lucille, withdrew from the room and shut the doors.
Lucy was left standing in the tense silence as two people who did not want to have anything to do with each other were alone in a room together. Turning off her expression regulator, she stayed quiet and still, with her hands behind her back, waiting for the Archduke to begin the conversation.
When the Archduke had finally finished reading through all the documents, he placed them back on the table. He looked up… revealing his eyes to be that same ruby-red she had seen on him when they last met.
He already wants to kill me, I see. What a brilliant start.
“Are you going to keep employing the pathetic practices of this Empire’s mortal ‘nobility’ in observing me at every turn as if I was some foreign creature,” the Archduke began coldly, “Or are you going to depart from that stupidity and sit down so we may get this foul ordeal over and done with?”
Lucy bowed her head and sat down on the couch facing him. “My apologies, Your Grace. I didn’t wish to interrupt you.”
“And I didn’t bring you here to listen to your excuses,” he said icily. The Archduke waved a hand and the white circle of a dimensional skill appeared, allowing him to withdraw several pages from within. He read through them with a slight frown. “There is very little I desire to address, but I’m mandated to listen to your queries, so speak now or you won’t have another opportunity until the month after next.”
Something about that statement sounded strange to Lucy.
The month after next? April? But we have to meet in March too.
She slowly nodded, beginning to discuss the issue she faced with Scytale. “I recently attempted to gain a Realm Quest by exploring an Ancient Dungeon with my bond, and…” Her words trailed off and she stared as the Archduke seemed to look at something in the air in front of him, slightly to the left of her. He returned his ruby gaze to her when she went quiet. “What is it, Goldcroft? Continue.”
She pushed aside her thoughts on his actions, describing her problem. “I discovered that without the help of my bond in sharing the Quest, I can’t gain Quests. Is this something that can be resolved?”
Instead of answering, the Archduke continued to read what Lucille highly suspected was a notification from… someone. The Archduke’s cold expression slowly darkened when he saw what it said and his voice was bitter and abrasive when he spoke again, “Quests are the System’s method of manipulating the races into following through specific actions. Only fully understood, known variables would work with this method of control. As such, you,” he continued in a low voice, turning his malevolent eyes to her, “Are disabled from receiving Quests as an unknown, uncontrollable variable. The only way for you to receive them is when the System can use another soul port or the Obelisk to bestow them on you.”
Lucille absorbed the information, accelerating her mind to fully understand what he meant. A thought occurred to her. “Do you mean to say any person, place or thing that is capable of connecting to the System itself?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “If you understand that, then you shouldn’t bother to ask again.”
“Would that mean the System intended for you to give me Quests?”
The Archduke glanced at the notification to his right and his expression cooled. “Is there anything else you need to discuss, Goldcroft?”
And he just outright brushed me off…
She paused for a second. A contract with vague terms, the System trying to use incentives to control me and a demon who doesn’t want anything to do with me… is the contract just… unfinished…?
Lucy thought up something to discuss before the Archduke became impatient. “I also wanted to discuss my… ah, original reason for arranging a meeting with you last year,” she informed him.
He tilted his head slightly as he stared at her with his cold gaze. “Yes, when I received that delightful letter before the annual banquet.”
She prevented herself from sighing at his response and continued, “I revealed this to Count Bentsen, but I had wanted to organise closer ties with the Aethereal Duchy.”
“With… the... Aethereal Duchy,” he repeated, a faint look of disdain forming on his face.
Yes, yes, you want nothing to do with me. Don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.
“Not personally,” she explained, beginning to become exhausted by being so careful when selecting her words. “Between the Aurelian Commission and the Duchy. Both forces are part of the neutral faction, but due to the Aethereal Duchy’s younger age, the ties are few and unstable.” She gestured to the window on her left. “The Aethereal Duchy is known to be one of the centres for inter-realm trade. It would be beneficial for the Commission and the Duchy to grow closer.”
The Archduke glanced at the documents in his hands, scanning them. He placed one of them on the desk and gave her a dismissive wave. “You may arrange that with my aide.”
Lucille nodded, feeling calmer now that the two main issues had been resolved. But now that some more questions about the contract had been raised, she was wondering how many questions she could ask… and how she could sort out the potential issues. She had something else she wanted to ask first, however.
“You Grace…”
He looked up with a cold gaze as she tried to ask her question. “I would like to discuss our arranged meet-”
“The meetings are unnegotiable,” he stated shortly, frowning at her.
Lucy winced. “But, Your Grace-”
“I said they are unnegotiable,” he growled. He directed a glare at whatever new notification he had received and scowled. “If they were negotiable, then I can assure you that we never would have seen each other again.”
She suppressed a sigh and rubbed her temples, fearing this. So he has no choice either. What to do…
“Then…” Lucille considered moving on but felt that she had to return to the topic. “Can I ask if everything that was written on the contract is accurate? That there are no other conditions?”
He didn’t say anything and just stared at her, nearly unblinkingly. Lucy began to realise that behaviour was very characteristic of his main body too, which was a higher race, a superior form of being. The only known higher races, the Paragon Anomalies, didn’t need to blink, eat, sleep, drink or breathe. Part of her mind wondered whether the ‘Archduke’ was actually fully human or not.
When he hadn’t said anything, she tried again, “If the contract isn’t complete-”
“Silence.”
She went quiet when faced with the Archduke’s scowl. Blue Aether swam about him and formed crystallised fractals, manifestations of his power. Lucy knew that hidden beneath would be the red-black chaos of demonic power.
“We will not speak of the contract again. If you do…” His aura began to grow stronger until suddenly, a knocking on the door sounded.
“Your Grace, may we come in?”
The Archduke’s aura and ruby-coloured eyes faded as quickly as they appeared, leaving neon-blue irises in their place. He frowned at the door. “Bentsen, why have you come back?”
“To bring your guest lunch, Your Grace.” The door opened and Count Bentsen smiled as he gestured to the trolley that was being pushed by a servant. “It’s already past lunch, in fact.”
The Archduke narrowed his eyes at the man. “I did not ask for someone to serve Goldcroft a meal.”
Count Bentsen’s smile widened. “As your aide, it is my responsibility to make arrangements for things that Your Grace might have… forgotten.” He glanced between Lucy and the Archduke, a curious look appearing on his face before he bowed and left the study.
The white-haired individual behind the desk scowled in the direction of the door. “Meddlesome… ha.” He shook his head and then glared at Lucy. “Eat silently or you’ll never eat again.”
Staying silent, she slowly nodded and ate her meal as quickly as she could without disturbing the Archduke, who had gone back to reading the pages from his dimensional skill and ignored her. The fact he was ignoring her was far better for Lucy’s mental well-being, in her opinion.
While somewhat curious about what the Archduke was reading, suspecting it to be his updated plans for the cycle and the Tower as he had only brought it out when she entered, she didn’t think he’d respond favourably if she tried to look at it. Instead, once she had finished eating and had drunk the tea provided, she stood up and bowed to him.
“Your Grace, is there anything else you wish to discuss today?”
He looked up from his papers and tapped his hands against the desk, clearly thinking. Then the Archduke shook his head. “No. As I stated at the beginning, there is little I desire to discuss with you. The only thing I require is for you to avoid influencing these members of Olden when you work with the Wordless Observers to eradicate the Malediction Society.”
He held out a page and she stood up, taking it from him. She wasn’t surprised he knew about her plans for the Malediction Society, but…
“Your Grace, is there nothing else you want me to do?” she asked, checking to make sure she didn’t go against the contract until they next met. “The contract stated that I’d have to prioritise your orders when it came to the preservation of the timeline.”
The Archduke looked up from the desk to stare silently at her, making her wonder if she said anything strange. He finally replied, “Goldcroft, I do not care what pathetic nobles you’ve decided to slaughter or what egotistical warrior you accidentally upset. It’s none of my business, nor do I want to involve myself with you any more than necessary. It is extremely unpleasant.” He glanced down at the documents on his desk and then back up at her. “Neither should you involve yourself any more with me, for the same reasons.”
The incognito Demon Emperor crossed his arms and pointed to the page she was holding. “Now, as arranged, we won’t see each other until April, and I won’t respond to any attempts to contact me. Take that, do as I said, and leave my house.” He picked up a rollerball pen, dipped it in an inkwell, and returned to writing on the Duchy’s forms, seemingly intent on ignoring any further conversation.
Lucille stared at him, feeling a sense of frustration, nervousness, and resignation. It seemed that she, once again, would have to be the bearer of bad news to the Demon Emperor.
He’s totally forgotten about the demonic contract, hasn’t he?”
“Your Grace.”
He didn’t respond.
“My apologies, but Your Grace.”
The Archduke looked up with a scowl. “What is it now, Goldcroft? I told you to leave.”
She sighed. “We won’t be only meeting each other in two months, Your Grace. We need to meet again in March.” Lucy pulled off a glove and showed him the black mark on her left palm. “We still have the demonic contract, remember? We need to meet every six months.”
He stared at her with eyes that had turned back to ruby red, staying completely still and silent. He didn’t even blink.
Lucille rubbed her neck, feeling his gaze boring into her. She was almost wondering if she needed to say something more, but…
Suddenly the Archduke moved and ran a hand down his face. “Blight.”
Lucy nearly rolled her eyes at the response. He just loves the sight of me, doesn’t he?
He jabbed a finger at her and then pointed at the doors with a scowl. “Get out. I don’t want to see you for a second longer than I have to.”
Lucy didn’t waste a moment and turned around, walking towards the door. She shut it behind her, turned her expression regulator back on, and would’ve grinned at finally being out of his presence if she didn’t suspect he could still see her. She walked quickly along the hallway, following the path she memorised to the elevator and front door. On the bottom level, she turned a corner and crossed paths with Count Bentsen.
The Count paused and smiled at her. “Are you leaving already, Count Goldcroft?”
She nodded and politely dipped her head as she saluted. “Indeed. I don’t want to take up the Archduke’s precious time any longer. It’s enough that we will meet every second month.”
“…yes, it’s curious how you managed to get him to agree to that.” Count Bentsen eyed her with a strange look, holding his chin.
She glanced behind her back and returned to him with a slight smile. “I can assure you it was a surprise that he extended the offer too.” Lucille bowed once more. “I need to be off, Count Bentsen. If you’ll excuse me, I will return to the carriage.”
He nodded. “Take care, Count Goldcroft.”
With that response, she continued walking and minutes later, descended the steps of the Aethereal Palace’s front entrance. When the carriage had finally left the gates, she allowed herself to expand her perception field and she sat sideways along a bench, her face expressionless. Lucille went into deep thought.
He really is completely restricted in his actions. As the one direct method of interacting with the realms that the System has, the Authorizer will obey every order. It makes me curious about why he accepted such an arrangement, but… he can’t kill me.
And the System planned on using Quests to grant me rewards.
She glanced out the window and smiled.
I was right. The System still doesn’t know what happened in the last timeline and wants to stay on my good side. The only reason I’m facing issues is because of its Authorizer, who… seems to be angry at me because of what I told him when we formed the demonic contract.
Lucille closed her eyes and smirked, placing her hands behind her head.
Well then, Demon Emperor Vitis Imperatoris-Daemonium. Let’s see how long it will take before you decide I’m worth putting in a bit more effort to interact with. We’re both stuck with this contract together, unwanted from both sides, so unless that anger of yours manages to override your apathy… then you’re going to find yourself frustrated and irritated for a verylong time.
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In a finely decorated room, where Lucille had been standing only moments before, a white-haired individual with neon-blue eyes was sitting behind a desk. His elbows were on the table, his fingers were steepled, and he was resting his nose bridge against his hands. A conversation that was going to go nowhere was about to begin.
“Dion.”
[Don’t ‘Dion’ me! I warned you that you wouldn’t be getting out of meeting her in person, so you have nothing you can say to me!]
The incognito Demon Emperor glared at the notification but it only flickered and changed to show something else.
[Whose fault do you think this all is? No, I’ll answer that. It’s yours because you were too lazy to set up the System contract properly! You only left the broadest and vaguest restrictions so there would be no loopholes and shunted it onto Goldcroft, planning on never using the Communication Modifier ever!]
The Archduke narrowed his eyes at the notification but a loud voice objected to whatever his thoughts were.
[No, I explained that I don’t know anything else about the past timeline, and no, we aren’t just going to force Goldcroft to tell it all! All this power of yours has gone to your head, I swear. You think you can just kill, torture, or force your way through problems-]
The white-haired individual leaned back in his chair and pinched his nose bridge as the voice continued to berate him.
[-but let me use this as proof that just because you’re angry doesn’t mean you can ignore everything! Or sleep through everything! And don’t even think of blaming me for the demonic contract thing. I offered for you to either meet her six months in a row and then nothing more, or every second month. You took the deal yourself.]
Realising the fruitlessness of his efforts, the Archduke grabbed a rollerball pen and tried to return to his work. The voice was having none of it.
[So now you’re going to try to ignore me too, huh? Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work out for you. Just like how you pretty much showed how lazy you are with the contract to Goldcroft. She’s a smart one, so you’re definitely screwed. I’ll be here, waiting, and laughing at your suffering. Go on, ignore me while I enjoy your future difficulties.]
The Archduke rubbed his temples as his connection with the System faded, only a mild headache remaining. After a moment, he sighed and snapped his fingers, sending a message to his aide. Daymar Bentsen entered his study only a few minutes later.
“You called, Your Grace?”
The Archduke stood up and faced the window, his hands held behind his back. He frowned as he watched the small blue carriage in the distance descend the mountainside, entering the city.
“Cancel the Malediction Entrapment Plan and alert our allies to the changes.”
Count Bentsen’s eyes widened, stunned. “Can… Can I ask why, Your Grace?”
The Archduke’s indifferent gaze passed over his subordinate as he looked over his shoulder.
“Because another force will be making a move, and if we don’t remove our pieces… they’ll be decimated in the House’s collateral damage.”
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With a sigh, Lucille stepped through the doors of her living room, shrugging off her jacket. Inside the room were two people, Vincent and Scytale. They looked up when she entered.
“Oh, she’s alive. We can stop caring about her now,” Scytale said, reclining back on the couch.
Vincent nodded to her as she sat down. “I see you have returned. Were there any complications?”
“No, however, I did discover that the ride to the Aethereal Palace is quite pleasant,” she responded, leaning forward to reach for the brass jug on the table. She looked at her aide. “The Archduke gave me permission to discuss the relationship between the Duchy and the Commission with Count Bentsen, so I might put you in contact with him.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Then is there any more reason for you to meet with the Archduke?”
She sighed and shook her head. “I will still have to visit him. But it’s possible it won’t end up being that bad.” She glanced at the two of them. “What brings both of you to this room? Normally you’d be in my study, Vincent.”
Scytale smirked and spread his arms. “I have been regaling him with our wondrous adventures in the dangerous, exotic Dungeon of Synadis. He must understand our power and immense might!”
“Your bond has been informing me of the Dungeon’s characteristics,” Vincent replied. “I wanted to hear his first-hand report on the location before I allow Ravimoux to do anything.” Then he narrowed his eyes at Lucy. “Although, Ravimoux has revealed to me that the Ice Crow Guild has been demanding reparations for the unfair conviction of their Guild Leader, which I’ve heard had something to do with you.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “I revealed that the Guild Leader was a fake. I assume there were Guild politics ongoing that meant several knew that the Guild Leader was fake, and now they’re trying to recoup from the loss before the other Guilds take advantage of the chaos.” She waved a hand. “Ignore them. They’re only a Guild of a Minor plane.”
He nodded as Scytale sat up. “So, what are your plans for the next two weeks?” The snake turned to Vincent and grinned. “Maybe a birthday party for your aide?”
Vincent gave him a confused look. “A birthday party? But I’m not-”
Lucy shook her head. “Scytale’s making a joke because he knows the way my world celebrates birthdays is different. He’s aware it’s not the year of your third decade, so there wouldn’t be any birthday celebration for you.”
Her aide raised an eyebrow curiously. “Then how does your world celebrate birthdays?”
She shrugged. “We just do it every year.”
Vincent blinked. “Every single year? Surely that’s too often.”
“It would be if people in my world didn’t have a limited lifespan.” Lucille picked up a cup of tea she had poured and sipped from it. “With our current medical technology, they can live up to around one hundred and thirty years, but rarely further.”
His eyes widened. “That’s… extremely short.”
Lucy sipped her tea again. “That will change with the introduction to the System, though. Lifespan has never been an issue for me, nor something I’ve ever considered deeply.”
She pulled out her pocket watch to check the time. “Nearly five… I might leave you both for now. There was something I wanted to ask Sedric to make.”
Vincent chuckled. “He’s been stuck in his workshop even more since you gave him those tasks. At least he’s enjoying himself.”
Lucy stood up and grabbed her suit jacket from the couch armrest, pulling it back on. She nodded to them both and left, walking down the hallways of the Commission. The entire time, she kept her eyes on her pocket watch, watching it tick closer to five. When it did so, her body shuddered as the sensation of a cold wind swept through the entire building.
Aware that her visitor had finally arrived, she sped up her pace, heading towards their location. As she moved, she could see that the staff members she passed were frozen still, mid-way through their tasks, with their limbs wrapped in many thick black chains. Lucille ignored them and opened the door of the sitting room used for meeting with guests on the fortieth floor.
Standing in the centre of the room was a figure around her height. They had their back turned, inspecting a painting on one of the walls. From their shoulders down they were covered in a black silk robe, the sleeves and train long and dragging against the ground. When she approached the figure turned around to reveal a young black-haired boy in his mid-teens with childish looks. He would’ve been comparatively normal in appearance if it weren’t for his irises and corneas being pitch black. He smiled when he saw her.
Lucille bowed with a hand on her chest. “It is my honour to meet you, Vessel of the Ninety-Nine. I am Lucille Goldcroft of the Aurelian Commission.”
