Chapter 598: 76. Hela’s Painting
Hearing Cidi’s seemingly surprised words, the gazes of the others turned to Eil, who was sitting at the entrance of the Knowledge Gate. Even with Eil’s tan skin, she couldn’t hide the faint pink spread across her face from feeling the substantial stares of the others.
Next to Eil, Jasmine, who had just finished eating, pursed her lips and shyly averted her gaze a bit, even letting go of her previously possessive feelings of jealousy because, to be fair, that earlier punishment opportunity was gifted to her by Eil.
But there was no need to feel guilty; she was exercising this opportunity for herself. Even if Raphael were to choose her or that unknown Demon God, she would definitely choose herself, right?
Jasmine thought this with a bit of shyness, not knowing whether this shyness was directed at Raphael or someone else.
Meanwhile, Eil’s peripheral vision caught Fischer’s surprised expression due to Cidi’s remark. Her fist unconsciously tightened, and she gritted her teeth as she said to that annoying guy, Cidi, “Cidi, if you can’t speak, just don’t say anything. Right now, I really want to twist your head off and kick it like a ball.”
Cidi smiled and covered his mouth, saying apologetically, “Sorry, sorry, did I say something wrong? I truly apologize; I thought it was obvious that anyone could see that~”
“Do you think everyone is like you, filled with lustful thoughts?”
“What’s wrong with lust? Aren’t you filled with it as well?”
“…”
Cidi seemed completely unfazed by Eil’s words. He even proudly licked his lips and winked at her with a look of pure innocence, but this attitude only made Eil tighten her fist even more, clearly agitated by Cidi’s comments.
Fortunately, at that moment, Fischer suddenly interjected into the conversation between these two long-lost close friends, easing the tension, “Cidi is acquainted with one of my seniors and has brought me some important information. He promised he wouldn’t help Barbatos, and, of course, he won’t help us either. How about the portal on Ag’s side?”
Eil glanced at Fischer, feeling a bit fortunate and slightly disappointed that he pretended not to hear what Cidi said. But this mixture of disappointment and relief gradually faded into a state of lazy disinterest.
She nodded, stifling a yawn, and stood up, saying, “It’s done; she won’t be able to teleport here, and she won’t notice anything strange for the time being.”
“Good, then let’s hurry up.”
“Where to?”
Fischer glanced at Jasmine and then said, “Jasmine said earlier that she sensed the exact location of the base, which is near Baemon’s palace. We need to head there now.”
“Alright, I’ll listen to you. By the way, let me see if I can smash her house.”
“…”
The lazy Eil showed a bit of interest in this matter, causing Fischer to chuckle.
Meanwhile, Cidi stayed silent, watching Eil and Fischer converse, looking at them with a vaguely benevolent gaze amidst the pink hue, which made Fischer feel a bit uneasy.
Strangely enough, although Fischer had just told Cidi about his connections with Hela, he was not surprised by Eil’s state or Jasmine’s slightly shy appearance.
Was it because, as the pillar of the Lust Gate, he could see through other people’s feelings, or was it due to his relationship with the Subhuman Girl Enthusiast, which meant that what happened with the Subhuman Enthusiast before had made him unsurprised by anything Fischer did?
The noise at the entrance of the Knowledge Gate gradually subsided, and they soon turned to move toward the increasingly deep cave ahead.
As soon as they stepped inside, Jasmine felt a sensation she had never experienced in the other layers of hell—a chill flowing from the ground up through her feet and spine, causing her to shiver slightly.
She quickly looked back at the people beside her and realized that they, more or less, were feeling the same way, especially the Death Lord, whose power in this place was the weakest. The impact on him was the deepest, as he already began to tremble even at his fingertips.
Fischer certainly noticed the coldness as well, and as he looked down at the ground, Cidi had already taken the initiative to explain to Eil and him ahead of them, “The ten gates of the Dynasty are all meant to seal the Death Authority sleeping beneath the Dynasty, and four of the gates are the most important: the Knowledge Gate led by Baemon, the Gluttony Gate led by Beelzebub, the Lust Gate led by Asmoday, and the Authority Gate led by Astaroth. Since they bear the majority of the seal of Death Authority, the atmosphere here will become more dangerous than usual, but it has never felt this explicit before; it shouldn’t be manifesting outward.”
Eil snorted coldly and replied, “That’s because that guy Baemon’s entity hasn’t been sealed, and she hasn’t returned here in many years.”
“You all seem not the slightest bit surprised that she wasn’t sealed by the Mother God.”
Up until now, Fischer seemed to have discovered this blind spot; it meant either Hela had concocted some reason to pull the wool over their eyes or they all knew that Baemon was not a demon, but an angel.
“We all know she was an angel; before the Mythical War, she had already turned against the Holy Realm and sided with us. Then, she shared her situation with the other kings. We basically don’t meddle in affairs; as long as the kings agree, life goes on as it has.”
“Indeed, the subordinates of the Heavenly Lock aren’t that easy to deal with, even if that group of angels are his children.”
Fischer knew this all too well. Even ten thousand years ago, the Archangels Pandora and Remiel chose to rebel against the Holy Realm; this already hinted at the untrustworthiness of the Heavenly Lock. Hela’s eventual choice to leave the Holy Realm was also not surprising.
“We’re here.”
This deep passage wasn’t very long, and as they progressed, it grew wider until they reached the end of the cave, where a scene suddenly revealed itself.
Before them lay a place entirely different from the scenery of other dynasties. Fischer thought that nothing could describe what lay before them better than the term “abyss,” as what appeared in front of them were walls that cascaded downwards in layers, with molten lava burning below and many beautifully chaotic buildings.
Emhart, perched on Fischer’s shoulder, suddenly trembled uncontrollably. His mind was blank, yet he instinctively felt shaken by the sight before him, as if these lifeless scenes had dragged up the deep-seated fear buried in his mind.
“I…” he stammered, taking several seconds to finally say, “I’ve been here.”
“The palace you saw earlier belonged to Hela, right?”
“Yes, but I didn’t come here from this place. I seem to remember I came from another place… from a teleportation gate I fixed? But Fischer, look! That, that is Baemon’s palace!”
Jasmine, the Death Lord, and Fischer all peered down at Emhart’s astonished voice, quickly spotting a magnificent structure standing atop a reef in the middle of the lava.
Unlike the other chaotic buildings, this one exuded beauty, divided into upper and lower layers, composed of rotating inner and outer forms, resembling a conceptual eye, or a mesmerizing whirlpool in the ocean.
That building remained lifeless atop the molten lava. Like the other demons, sealed tightly and locked away, it too appeared to have been silent for a long time, to the extent that the originally beautiful outer layer had accumulated a thick layer of dust, serving as a nest for lava stone beetles.
Even so, the building still stood as if it were the center of the Demon Dynasty, showcasing its unique existence to everyone before it.
“We’ve arrived at Baemon’s den.”
Eil leaped down first, followed closely by Cidi. Jasmine glanced at Fischer, seemingly wanting to jump down with him, but Fischer needed to hold onto the Death Lord, who couldn’t jump down—though that guy would revive even if he fell to his death, and Fischer was quite curious how he would revive in the lava.
But they needed to hurry up, so he wouldn’t dwell on such meaningless experiments.
They each fell from a great height, and the more they descended, the larger Baemon’s palace appeared from above.
In front of that immense structure stood a huge door, mirroring the appearance of a mirror, blocking the way inside and reflecting the figures of Eil, Cidi, and Fischer.
When Fischer gazed at the mirror, a line of text that everyone could understand in various languages began to appear on its surface, reading,
“I am my own self, I am my own thought.”
“I am the unsung song, I am the invisible eye.”
“May I ask, what am I?”
A riddle?
Fischer furrowed his brows and turned to look back, only to see that Cidi was completely ignoring them, instead observing the scenery elsewhere, while Eil stared at him with a vacant expression, seemingly inquiring about the answer. Jasmine and the Death Lord were still pondering, while Emhart had been utterly frightened, hiding in Fischer’s arms yet trying to squeeze one eye open to see inside.
“How about we just break this door? Anyway, I see she’s been annoying for a long time.”
“But this is Baemon’s dwelling, oh?”
“So what? I’m smashing her dog house.”
Eil looked at Cidi with annoyance, uncertain of what he was muttering, but Cidi just snapped his fingers and smiled, saying, “Baemon’s dwelling might not necessarily have any restrictions or traps, and your current body hasn’t emerged from the seal yet, so who knows if you can withstand it.”
“Tch, so this answer…”
“Soul.”
Eil was about to say something when Fischer suddenly spoke up, glancing at the riddle on the wall.
Consciousness is an attribute of the soul, the essence of self, and nothing could be more fitting as the answer to this question than “soul.”
“Click-click-click!”
Just as Fischer guessed, when he softly uttered this answer, a thin seam quickly formed down the middle of the mirror-like door, slowly parting to reveal a dark space filled with a faint fragrance.
“Opened?”
Inside the space was pitch black, entirely covered in dust that hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. As the door opened, the space illuminated itself like Eil’s castle, revealing the scene within.
All over the ground were scattered canvases and paints; some paints had been used up, while others were only half-full, and many had dried into solid remnants. However, aside from these items, the most attention-grabbing was a painting hanging in the center of the wall, directly facing the door.
In the painting, a remarkably skilled artist skillfully recreated a scene from their mind with nimble and delicate strokes. The image depicted a dim moonlit night, where a handsome man lay sleeping in the moonlight.
The man was bare from the waist up, his features handsome, displaying a certain warmth that perhaps he himself was not even aware of, as tranquil as if he were immersed in a lullaby.
The most striking detail was that in the hands of that bare, black-haired man, he tightly grasped what seemed to be a fair hand, as if he couldn’t bear to let go of its owner, wanting to intertwine their fingers and hold onto the presence of the artist.
Upon seeing that painting, Fischer froze entirely because it depicted him!
Eil and Jasmine, who entered right after Fischer, also froze, completely unprepared for the scene that felt like an invisible punch to their faces.
“Wow, I didn’t expect Baemon to have such an interest in recording her lover.”
Cidi chuckled, covering his mouth and commenting. Hearing his words, the expressions of Eil and Jasmine darkened further, making Fischer’s presence in front of them feel increasingly frail, as if he could be blown away by the wind.
A peaceful sleeping man, tightly holding the hand of the artist, as if afraid she would leave.
How could such dependence appear in Baemon?
“Fischer!”
“Teacher Fischer!”
From behind, Eil’s lazy, seemingly nonchalant voice and Jasmine’s ominous tone sounded simultaneously, causing Fischer’s body to tremble slightly.
He took a deep breath, preparing to turn around and face the storm, intending to calm them down and find the base before anything else.
But just as he turned, his peripheral vision caught sight of the tall, slender Death Lord crouching on the ground, holding some drawings that were leaning against the wall. However, these drawings were smaller than the large “Fischer Sleeping Portrait” displayed in the center of the hall.
He murmured softly, unconsciously speaking to the people behind him, “It seems like… there are more here.”
All of Fischer’s words were stuck in his throat, and Eil and Jasmine turned to look. Eil’s lazy expression faded slightly, yet she still stood still with her arms crossed. Jasmine, unable to contain herself, walked toward that direction, taking the drawings handed over by the Death Lord and looking at them one by one.
“What are these, Teacher Fischer? When you changed clothes? And why are you holding your chest? Why do you look at… at Baemon with such gentle eyes?!”
As she flipped through the drawings, Jasmine clearly began to feel anger rising, and beside her, the Death Lord, looking innocent, took advantage of Jasmine examining the drawings to peek at the back where it appeared there were titles and comments.
“Hey, those drawings have notes on the back…”
Jasmine paused slightly and turned the drawings over to read what Baemon had written as titles and comments,
“‘The Clothes of Him and the Holy Realm’: The first time the clothes were damaged by Michael’s toys, I didn’t expect he was secretly watching me while I changed, how cute.”
“‘Hit by Cupid’s Arrow’: Oh, being shot by my arrow like this without a word, obviously very angry but afraid to lash out because of my injury, even asking me how I looked, totally unaware of being teased.”
“‘The Worry Hidden Behind’: It seems that after falling in love with me, he began to wonder why he hadn’t heard my name in the future. He must be worried I would die and he wouldn’t be able to see me in the future. Quite impressionable.”
“Teacher Fischer, you…”
After looking at several drawings, the sweetness of their past, the sparkling highlights that even Fischer himself had not realized from a female perspective, were preserved in the form of artwork, resting here.
Whether viewed by lovers or an unrelated third party, it could stir emotions; even Cidi behind them couldn’t help but reveal an aunt-like smile.
But what if those seeing these things were other women involved with the male lead?
Jasmine looked at Fischer in disbelief, while Eil directly bypassed Fischer, walking silently up to the giant “Fischer Sleeping Portrait” on the hall wall, abruptly taking it down and reading the title and notes on the back with Fischer’s shocked expression shrinking slightly.
She noticed that beneath the title were two lines of comments, but the original line had been ruthlessly erased, leaving only the trace of paper that had been cut away.
After that, the comments they could now see read:
“Fischer”
“In a night of mutual possession, he held the one he loves most and who loves him.”
“Crack!”
Eil’s expression was emotionless as she suddenly squeezed the painting tightly, wrinkling the white paper into multiple creases.
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(End of chapter)
