Chapter 399: Sit Down
A sharp knock echoed through the room. Aura bolted upright from the bed, scrambling to the door in three long strides.
Solifra stood on the other side. "Dinner time." She glanced briefly at Aura's figure, noting the fit. "Those are my old clothes. They look like a perfect fit."
Aura swallowed the urge to mention how snug they were across the chest; she simply offered a strained smile and followed Solifra into the hall.
They walked along the corridor, passing doors etched with complex, glowing magical sigils at regular intervals.
"Most of these rooms are used for storage," Solifra explained in a hushed, intimate tone. "But lately, Serie-sama has been using them to house her collection of artifacts and grimoires."
Over the last thousand years, Serie's acquisition of magical texts had become a deluge beyond counting. It was a library that dwarfed the National Archives of the Kingdom of Ersten. While Serie kept a select few in her own private quarters at the tower's peak, the rest were packed into these vaults. Of course, every book was transcribed into the Association's central library on the lower levels for the benefit of the general membership.
"I see."
Aura couldn't fathom why anyone would obsess over moldy scrolls of theory, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The ceiling above them was an arched dome, embedded with glowing mana-crystals that bathed the hall in a light that was bright yet gentle on the eyes.
Walking brazenly through the highest sanctum of the Association—a place that mortal mages would give their lives for a single glimpse of—Aura felt a strange, vertigo-inducing flutter in her stomach.
"Um," she broke the silence. "How long have you lived here?"
Solifra paused, calculating the span of time. "A very long time."
"How long is 'very long'?"
"Roughly five hundred years, I suppose."
Aura froze. Centuries? This demon, who looked no older than herself, was a Great Demon who had survived for hundreds of years? And she had done it inside the headquarters of the human Magic Association?
"H-how…" Aura stammered, picking her words with agonizing care. "How did you get them to accept you?"
The question slipped out before she could check herself. She braced for a rebuke, but Solifra only slowed her pace, her expression softening.
"At first, I was exactly like you. I was discovered and brought here by others, and Rhodes-sama ordered me to stay. Naturally, Serie-sama was just as opposed to it then as she is now. But later…"
She trailed off. Aura waited for the rest, but Solifra simply kept walking. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Aura couldn't stand the suspense. "Later? What happened later?"
Solifra looked back over her shoulder. "Later, I proved myself. I proved that I was not like the other demons."
Proven she wasn't like other demons? How? And what did other demons even look like to the people here? The only thing Aura had ever seen that claimed to be a demon was a man who insisted he was human and called himself… something or other. The name had slipped her mind, but the warning he'd left her was etched into her brain forever.
She opened her mouth to press for more, but Solifra had already turned the corner. Aura swallowed the question and hurried to catch up.
No matter, she thought. There is time. Since she was staying, she would learn the truth eventually. Perhaps, one day, she too could prove she was harmless.
Solifra stopped before a door and pushed it open. Beyond lay a small, cozy dining room, furnished with only a few tables. Aura blinked; she had expected a grand hall for the Association's elite, not a space that felt like a commoner's hearth.
"This is where Rhodes-sama and Serie-sama dine," Solifra explained, reading her confusion. "I eat here as well."
Aura nodded, then realized the implication. "Then… what of the other mages?"
"They eat in the mess hall downstairs," Solifra said, her tone indifferent. "It is vast—capable of seating hundreds at once. But you are not permitted there."
Aura didn't respond. She understood perfectly well why she was kept here in the inner sanctum. She looked at her hands—pale, slender, and indistinguishable from a human's. But a moment's focus revealed the churning, demonic mana deep within her blood. And then there were the horns. Even with one broken, the stump was a beacon of her heritage that no amount of hair could hide.
She remembered Rhodes mentioning a concealment spell to mask her identity, though he hadn't yet cast it.
"Sit," Solifra pointed to a table by the window.
Aura slid into the chair. It was softer than anything she'd ever known, the plush cushion cradling her like a cloud. Solifra began to set a meal before her, and Aura stopped breathing.
What is this?
She stared in disbelief at the spread: roasted meat, steaming soup, strange, vibrant vegetables, white bread wafting a scent of yeast and butter, and a pastry shimmering with the faint, sweet glow of magical syrup.
She had never seen such abundance. In the wild, she ate whatever she could find—foraged berries, gnawed roots, the occasional field mouse. When she'd slipped into human villages under the veil of night, a stolen loaf of dry bread had been a feast. She had been so weak, so starving, that she couldn't even master the Obedience Magic properly. Her life had been a long, cold struggle for existence.
Her throat constricted as she stared at the feast.
"I didn't have much time, so I threw this together. I hope it's to your liking." Solifra sat opposite her, serving herself the same meal. She had cooked for Rhodes and Serie for centuries, and occasionally for Ella, so she was confident enough in the quality—but she had no idea if demon physiology shared the same culinary palate.
"It's perfect!" Aura gasped. She didn't wait for manners; she grabbed a fork and began to devour the food as if her life depended on it.
Delicious. It's… it's so delicious.
Solifra ate in quiet companionship, stealing glances at the demoness and suppressing a small smile. Aura's frantic, unrefined pace was a stark contrast to Solifra's own composed demeanor, but she didn't mind.
Just as Aura pierced a massive slice of roast meat and raised it to her lips, the sound of footsteps rang out from the hallway.
Aura froze.
The steps were steady, calm, utterly mundane—and yet, every nerve in her body ignited with primal, shivering dread. The kind of dread that crawls up the spine when a predator enters the den.
The predator was Rhodes.
The moment she saw him, Aura felt as though she had been jolted by a lightning strike. She bolted from her chair, head bowed low, terrified to even meet his eyes. The food that had been paradise a second ago now tasted like ash.
It's over. I'm finished. Why is he here? Is he here to finish me off? Does he think I'm gluttonous and ungrateful for eating so happily?
A hurricane of panicked thoughts tore through her mind.
"Sit down first."
Aura blinked, snapping her head up to find Rhodes looking at her with a gentle, downward motion of his hand.
She didn't dare move.
Rhodes didn't seem to notice. He walked to the table and took the seat opposite her—the empty chair right next to Solifra.
Aura felt as though her lungs had collapsed. The legendary God-slayer, the terror of all demonic kind, was sitting less than two meters away.
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