Azazel walked between the towering shelves, and the group silently followed.
Amy walked near the back, keeping one hand on her satchel as she fought to keep her eyes open; now that the relentless whirlwind of battle had ended, the adrenaline had completely drained from her system, leaving her on the absolute verge of collapse. A quick glance at the others confird that their situations weren't any different.
Better finish this fast.
They walked for about half a minute until the shelves finally opened into a smaller, circular chamber. In the exact center of the room, a white book rested upon a matching white marble pedestal.
“Mmm…” Azazel humd. She raised her hand, and the white book began to shake. Before Amy could even register what was happening, the book split into seven distinct, colorless volus.
The books hovered in the air for a few seconds before drifting toward the seven companions, coming to a standstill right in front of them.
One floated directly up to Amy, and she accepted it silently with a hesitant expression; in the original manga tiline, they had never received gifts, making this an entirely new developnt… one she wasn’t sure she fully liked. She doubted Azazel could break the terms of their deal—which stipulated the gifts had to be beneficial—but it still made her anxious to accept anything from a demon with such dubious motives.
Amy’s fingers tightened around the cover. The instant her skin brushed the surface, a wave of color bled into the white material; it turned a deep red, and then, slowly, a yellow triangle appeared in the center.
Amy frowned deeply. She imdiately looked over at the others, whose books had also transford, each taking on distinct colors. Zayd, in particular, held a red book just like hers. Unlike her volu, however, his lacked the yellow triangle, causing her frown to deepen further.
She looked back down at her own book. It was an exact replica of Libris—from the color and the triangle to its precise size and thickness.
Why…?
She cast her eyes back to Azazel, a question nearly escaping her lips before she caught herself. Right. No questions yet. At least, not directly. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and locked her gaze onto the demon in a silent demand for an explanation.
Azazel t her stare for a mont before offering a knowing smile. The demon was the first to turn away as she shifted her gaze toward Crow. “I suppose explanations are in order,” she said lightly. Without waiting for a reply, she stepped past them and walked toward another corridor lined with towering shelves. “Co. I will explain each of your gifts while we head toward the exit.”
After a pause, one by one, they all followed.
“Accompanying us toward the exit…” Iris noted as they walked. “Very generous, especially for a scamr.”
Azazel glanced at her from the corner of her eye with amusent. “That,” she said in an overly bright tone, “is because I possess a very big heart.”
Long silence followed her words.
“And because I simply dislike people wandering around inside my library,” Azazel finally added when the silence stretched on for too long.
“…There it is,” Ash muttered.
Azazel grinned at him and kept walking. “Honestly, sitting around waiting for you to make your way to my desk was far too much for my fragile heart. After so many years without visitors, I had completely forgotten the feeling.”
Iris snorted. “Hearing that almost makes want to wander around and touch random books just out of revenge for scamming us.”
Azazel stopped dead in her tracks. The change in montum was so abrupt that Crow and Lyra nearly collided with her.
Slowly, the demon turned her head toward Iris. Her smile had vanished entirely. Her cold, white eyes locked onto Iris with a surge of killing intent so raw and suffocating that Amy’s body reacted before her mind could process it; her muscles tensed automatically, and cold sweat broke out along her spine.
“Little girl,” Azazel said softly, “even if the contract expels from this realm, I will make absolutely sure to drag you to Hell with for a lifeti of torture before you touch a single one of my books.”
Nobody spoke for several seconds as they were utterly paralyzed by the crushing pressure raining down on them, an aura sohow multiple tis heavier than Abaddon's.
Iris raised both hands in surrender once she managed to regain her composure. “Okay, chill. It was a joke.”
For one long second, Azazel simply stared at her. Then, the demon spun back around with a bright, cheerful smile, acting as if nothing had happened at all.
“Anyway,” she said rrily, resuming her pace. “Your gifts. The books you hold are called Archives. Archives are fragnts of my library given physical form and bound directly to your souls.”
If anyone had still been feeling drowsy, the previous killing intent woke them right up. It took a mont and a fair bit of courage for the group to keep following her as if everything were normal.
“Crow,” Azazel said without breaking her stride, gesturing toward his book. “That is the To of Despair. It will allow you to experience imnse despair by reliving your worst mories and witnessing catastrophic possible futures for one hour every day. I don’t think I need to explain how perfectly that synergizes with your peculiar ability, do I?”
Crow remained silent, his lips thinning into a hard line. Amy couldn’t bla him. What sort of gift was that? Useful? Yes, but incredibly cruel.
Lyra looked ready to speak up on his behalf, but Crow stopped her with a quiet shake of his head.
With a heavy sigh, he finally spoke. “Thanks.”
“You’re welco,” Azazel replied with a smirk, turning her gaze to Lyra. “As for you, girl, that book holds a technique crafted by the Goddess herself.”
Both Amy and Lyra frowned deeply, though for entirely different reasons. Amy’s expression carried pure distrust, automatically wary of anything associated with the Goddess. Lyra, anwhile, looked deeply offended.
“The Goddess would never leave her teachings behind for anyone but her true followers,” Lyra said sharply. “Try getting better at lying, devil.”
Azazel glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “My, my. Such hostility.” The demon pressed a hand against her chest dramatically. “You wound , little believer.”
Lyra’s eyes narrowed further. “You expect to believe the Goddess personally entrusted you with her teachings?”
“No,” Azazel replied lightly. “I don’t care whether you believe my words or not. Moreover, she didn’t entrust anything to . This Library simply records every spell ever cast in the mortal realm, past and future alike.”
“The Goddess cannot be tracked or copied.”
Azazel rolled her eyes. “Either way,” she said, pointing at the faint green book enveloping Lyra’s hands. “Contrary to what your man-made texts claim, neither 'Hell' nor the so-called 'Heaven' are places where mortal souls go when they die. In fact, even the Goddess cannot bring back the dead. That grimoire rely records one of the spells she used after the death of one of the many lovers she had throughout her eternal life.”
Lyra shook her head again and muttered a quiet denial, but Azazel completely ignored her.
“She bathed an entire dying land in green, transforming it into what we now know as the Great Forest, despite knowing full well there was no one left to heal. Flowers blood over corpses for weeks.”
“Fake,” Lyra retorted almost imdiately.
Azazel rely shrugged. “Is that so?” She tilted her head. “Then just think of it as a very cool spell that heals wounds over a large area. Who knows? Maybe your boyfriend might even get his arm back if you master it.”
Lyra made a sharp, choked sound at the comnt, but Amy was too focused on the deeper implications of Azazel’s words to pay attention to it.
Not even gods can bring back the dead…
The concept lingered unpleasantly in her mind. Had the Goddess not brought back Libris from the dead?
Was the librarian wrong? It wouldn’t surprise Amy since the Goddess just felt like soone who was above everything and anything.
Actually, she did ntion that they hadn't technically been dead yet…
The demon’s gaze shifted away from Lyra and settled on Zayd. Azazel was now walking backward, which, given her previous display of killing intent, made her look in Amy’s eyes, incredibly creepy.
“And yours,” she continued casually, “is considerably simpler: a collection of divination techniques and hidden knowledge stolen from the Gaspards.”
Zayd tilted his head, and his face twisted into an expression of confusion. “Why would I need this? Even if I'm currently barred from the greatest secrets my family holds, I'll naturally gain access to them as I grow older.”
“Do you really think you’ll last that long over there?” Azazel asked with a knowing, sharp smile. The remark instantly silenced Zayd, a troubled frown etching itself onto his face.
“Moving on. Ash and Iris, yours are even simpler,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth between the two. “They contain personalized hand-to-hand combat techniques developed by wandering travelers and forgotten over ti.”
Ash blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Azazel confird. “You hit things. Iris hits things. I simply made sure you two can hit things better.”
“Nice,” Iris muttered.
Azazel smiled at her before turning her attention to Lain.
Lain visibly reacted before the demon even spoke. It was a subtle shift, but Amy caught the slight tightening of the white-haired girl’s fingers around her book and the absolute focus in her eyes. Ever since the battle had ended, Lain had looked a bit more hollow than the rest of them—except Crow— but now, her attention was entirely locked in.
Azazel’s smile widened. “Yours required a little more effort than the others,” she noted.
Lain offered a silent frown.
“That Archive contains a few specific things. First, comprehensive records regarding human behavior, mannerisms, emotional cues, deception, social expectations, customs, and psychological contradictions.”
Lain’s eyes widened a fraction. anwhile, Amy frowned.
“Second, explanations regarding social actions most people consider 'obvious' despite never explicitly verbalizing them. Trust , I get your pain. Humans are incredibly fond of creating arbitrary rules and then pretending those rules are natural instincts.”
Amy watched as Lain’s grip on the volu tightened further. And she herself did too.
“Third,” Azazel continued, “it contains detailed observations regarding behaviors commonly deed strange, unsettling, inappropriate, or outside the boundaries of common sense, alongside breakdowns of exactly why people react negatively to them.”
Lain froze completely, and Amy scowled.
Amy instinctively opened her mouth, ready to complain that this sounded entirely insulting and that Azazel had promised their gifts would be strictly beneficial without any tricks—but she stopped herself. Because Lain looked… completely captivated.
“And lastly,” the demon continued, “it contains guidance.”
Lain blinked slowly. “Regarding what?” Iris asked on her behalf.
“On what to do with your life, as well as how to navigate the lives of others,” Azazel answered with her eyes locked firmly on the white-haired girl. “Not definitive answers, mind you. rely possibilities.”
Silence descended upon the group. Then, Azazel added in a much lighter tone: “There is also a handy section about helping emotionally unstable friends survive their own self-destructive tendencies.”
At that, Lain’s eyes instantly darted toward Amy. Amy instinctively frowned and looked away, shifting her gaze back to the demon; whatever Lain's gaze was, she didn’t like it.
Azazel’s smile stretched even wider as her eyes t Amy’s. “And yours,” she said.
Amy’s frown deepened.
“Your gift is rather personal,” the demon said softly. “I highly recomnd opening it only when you are completely alone in your room.”
Amy’s irritation flared instantly. “Ugh,” she groaned loudly. “Damn you, leaving for last and then telling to wait even longer…”
“Haha, yes. I did that.”
“That’s incredibly annoying.”
“I know.”
Amy narrowed her eyes, but Azazel rely offered an innocent, mocking smile. Taking a deep breath, Amy forced herself to calm down. She decided it was best to listen to the devil's advice, just in case. Once she was safely back in her quarters and rested, she would use her ability to make sure there were no hidden traps—even if, logically speaking, there shouldn’t be.
As they walked, she did her best to ignore her growing impatience to open the book, which looked so unsettlingly like Libris, and forced her attention elsewhere.
It was then that she caught a faint sound. It was soft at first, but steadily growing clearer.
It sounded like rain.
She frowned, glancing around at the endless rows of shelves. Where could that possibly be coming from?
The sound grew louder with every step they took.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Suddenly, Azazel halted. The exhausted Crow and Lyra nearly collided with her back yet again.
Without a word of warning, the demon reached forward into empty air and gripped reality itself.
Amy’s eyes widened. Space literally folded beneath Azazel’s fingers. Two invisible seams materialized in midair, and her hands pulled them apart like massive double doors. Beyond the tear in reality lay a familiar frozen landscape.
White snow. A heavy gray sky. The endless, icy wasteland. And above everything, the colossal, towering angel looking down from above.
Except now, a strange black rain was pouring down. Actually, calling it rain felt wrong, because it wasn't water falling from the sky; it was a dark fluid streaming directly from the colossus's eyes. They were tears.
“I cannot accompany you any farther than this,” the librarian said, turning back to face them. “Now that the colossus has begun to weep, the obsidian archway you used to enter this nightmare has reopened. You can go back to your world from there.”
She smiled as the black rain poured heavily behind her. Reaching into the distortion beside the doorway, space rippled once more. Seven black umbrellas erged one after another from the rift.
“Take them,” she instructed lightly as the seven umbrellas floated towards the group. “Unless, of course, you wish to turn into snow.”
Amy caught hers awkwardly while looking confused. “…The hell...” she muttered.
Azazel’s white eyes drifted toward the frozen wasteland beyond the threshold. Only then did Amy notice the aning properly.
Far in the distance, dark shapes were shifting. Creatures composed of writhing darkness and malford limbs staggered blindly through the black downpour.
They were chaos creatures. Yet, wherever the colossus's tears struck them, their bodies instantly crystallized into pale white stone before shattering and dissolving into snow.
“Previously living beings,” Azazel explained conversationally, “and now chaos creatures as well. Quite fascinating, honestly. No matter how many tis I witness it, it’s still entirely mind-boggling to think that an eternal entity could be erased by just a few drops of that fluid.” She paused, then added, “Worry not, it only dissolves what it falls upon directly. Stepping on the damp ground won't cause you any trouble. Just make sure not to stand out there for too long; even umbrellas crafted from the wood of the World Tree won't hold out forever.”
No one spoke. The rhythmic noise of the rain filled the tense silence.
Slowly, Azazel turned her attention back to Amy and Lain.
“I owe the two of you one question each, so please, ask recklessly,” she continued. “And do refrain from trying to combine two questions into one. It is incredibly rude, and only I am permitted to trick people.” She paused, baring her teeth in a sharp smile that highlighted her prominent canines. “Anyone who tries to cheat gets eaten. It doesn't matter if I'm banished back to Hell because of it.”
Iris visibly took a step backward.
Azazel completely ignored her as she sifted her eyes on Amy. “And before you ask about how to defeat a certain being…” Her smile sharpened almost imperceptibly. “Give up.”
Amy froze. The others looked confused at her words, but Amy knew exactly who the librarian was referring to.
Frowning, she shook her head and took a sharp breath. As if she would ever give up that easily...
Amy cast a slow look toward Lain. For a brief mont, the white-haired girl hesitated, then she gave her a nod.
“How do we stop the angel from destroying the world?” Lain asked, stepping forward after their silent exchange.
For only the second ti since they had t her, Azazel’s smile faltered slightly. “To stop them,” the demon answered, “you must enter the lost city of Avalon once it reappears within this realm.”
“Avalon…” Crow murmured under his breath.
“It will return in approximately five years,” Azazel continued. “And the most powerful factions in this world all seek entry. This includes the Blood Emperor, the Tribe of Onyx, the King, the Gaspard lineage, and Abaddon… though I am uncertain if the last one cares much anymore.”
Crow visibly shuddered at the ntion of the na.
“Inside the city lies their heart,” Azazel continued. “Find it, and neutralize it in whatever way you see fit to stop this from happening.” She said while pointing outside.
Amy’s brow furrowed. A heart? What does she an by that? Is that massive thing actually alive?
“What are they?” Amy suddenly asked, drawing the librarian’s focus to her.
Azazel stared at her for several agonizingly silent seconds before her lips curled into a strange smile. “It is better to ask who they are.” Her smile vanished entirely, leaving her expression completely unreadable. “They are the absolute antithesis of the Goddess. Closely related to her… Even she fears them, and consequently, so do I.”
Silence covered the group as they absorbed the weight of her words. anwhile, Amy’s mind went into absolute overdrive. The demon claid that defeating the Goddess was an impossibility, but wasn't the angel in the sky a lead, or at least related to doing exactly that? Sure, it might be a reach from Amy’s part, but still… Hadn't Abaddon’s entire plan revolved around extracting the angel’s power to counter the Goddess?
“Apart from that…” Azazel added softly, “Even I do not know who she truly is.”
That single admission pulled Amy abruptly from her thoughts, disturbing her far more than everything else combined. How could a demon who possessed intimate knowledge of the Goddess’s personal history and the colossus’s ties to her be entirely ignorant of the entity's true identity?
“How are we supposed to enter Avalon?” Crow asked suddenly, drawing everyone's attention.
Azazel’s bright, cheerful deanor instantly snapped back into place, her previous heavy expression vanishing without a trace. “Oh?” she purred. “That is a question I have absolutely no obligation to answer.”
Crow’s face darkened in frustration.
“But,” Azazel continued rrily, “I will answer it anyway, because doing so happens to benefit .”
Amy narrowed her eyes. A faint sense of déjà vu washed over her. Once she realized what this was about, she opened her eyes, and a small smile appeared on her face.
This was the entire reason they had ventured into this nightmare in the first place, and it was the exact item Azazel had provided in the manga without much explanation, rely stating that if they wanted to save the world, they had to cooperate.
Azazel reached a hand toward her chest, and a small object erged directly from where her heart should be. It was a hexagonal seal carved from pristine white marble. The mont it appeared, a profound wave of relief flooded through Amy.
Finally, they had succeeded…
“This,” Azazel stated lightly, “is the key.”
“Oh Goddess, not another key…” Ash groaned under his breath.
Azazel paid him no mind. She took the seal in both hands and—
Crack.
The seal shattered perfectly in her grip. It didn't break into two pieces, but seven. Each individual fragnt began to float outward, coming to a halt directly in front of a mber of the group.
“I have no practical use for it,” Azazel said, “since I am bound here; I cannot leave this Library.”
Amy slowly reached out and grabbed the fragnt hovering before her. The mont her skin made contact, a faint, comforting warmth radiated through her fingers.
“With those,” Azazel concluded, “all of you will possess the ans to enter Avalon.”
No one spoke. Outside the rift, the roaring sound of the black rain intensified. Azazel looked over the seven of them, wearing the exact sa pleasant, polite smile she had greeted them with at the very beginning. Then, she gave a casual wave.
“Well then,” she said. “Goodbye.”
The dismissal was so abrupt it felt entirely surreal. One mont she was standing right in front of them, and the next, she had vanished into thin air.
The seven of them exchanged bewildered looks. Then, as if sharing a single collective mind, their gazes unanimously settled on the obsidian umbrellas.
One by one, they hoisted the shields and hesitantly stepped out into the frozen wasteland beyond the threshold, heading back toward the distant obsidian archway through which they had first arrived.
It was finally ti to go back.
User Comments
0 comments from readers