The Cheshire Cat ran into the bar, meowing in utter grievance. Earlier, Bayonetta had thrown it at an angel during a fight, hoping the exercise might help it shed a few pounds. Now, it was desperately trying to flee, its panic growing as it saw its owner placing a strange outfit in front of it.
No cat likes to wear clothes, and this magical cat was no exception.
"Protests are useless, you chubby kitty."
Solomon scooped up the gray, chubby short-haired cat, who squirmed and protested in his arms. Just then, he heard the distinct clicking of high heels on marble as Bayonetta and Jeanne strolled into the bar, looking relaxed as they chatted and laughed. Their opponent this time hadn't been particularly strong; neither Bayonetta nor Jeanne had even needed their battle attire, arriving instead in casual outfits. Jeanne was holding the transforming twin blades "Luoyang," one of the custom weapons Solomon had ordered from Rodin. Eager to test the weapon, she was more than happy to serve as its first user. To enhance the blade's power, Solomon had used the souls of two vampires—Barnabas and Victoria.
These two primordial vampires were merely petrified, their undead nature still intact. While Solomon couldn't yet dispel the spell to discover how to kill them completely, he had managed to capture their souls and use them as components. He then handed these potent materials to Rodin, who, working deep within the Styx, combined the vampires' souls with indestructible demonic metal to forge the weapon Solomon had envisioned. The twin blades, one long and one short, could summon blood-red energy blades in combat and even drain blood from wounds. Although not as powerful as the Sword of Victory, it consumed far less mana and offered longevity, along with a life-restoring effect through its "Vampiric Touch" ability—a nearly perfect weapon.
Jeanne was clearly pleased with the weapon. She had used it to kill a formidable angel, its hard shell cut through like paper by the blades. The weapon's fearsome power even drove the invading angels to wail in agony, as if their souls were being tainted by blood—a weapon that could make angels suffer was, in a witch's simple view, a very good weapon.
Jeanne pulled Bayonetta to the bar, letting out a satisfied hum as she tossed the weapon back to Solomon. "Martini, extra olives," she ordered, glancing at him. "Make it three."
"We don't serve alcohol to minors here," Rodin added, giving Solomon a dry look. "How about a cola?"
"Oh, a minor in the bar!" Jeanne shot a mocking glance at Solomon. "Alright, just two martinis then. Children shouldn't step into adult territory, right, Solomon?"
"Hmm~" Bayonetta arched an eyebrow, a hint of anticipation in her gaze as she looked at the Mystic beside her. She was used to the playful bickering between Jeanne and Solomon—it was a daily ritual. They would argue one moment, then reconcile by dinnertime, and the cycle would repeat, depending on how well-fed they were. The witch pointed at her lips and gave Solomon a little wink, her meaning unmistakable.
"The legal drinking age is twenty-one," Solomon replied slowly as he stored the twin blades. "Based on that, I'll just have to wait another six years before I can drink legally. Jeanne, even though you're not bound by such laws, I sincerely recommend following medical advice and abstaining from alcohol. You're already past the optimal drinking age…"
Bayonetta cut him off with a playful shot—she and Jeanne were forever twenty-year-old beauties!
What happened last night?
This question lingered in Solomon's mind as he woke, feeling a strange throbbing at his temple, as if he'd been hit hard by something. He was lying in his single dormitory bed at Eton College, where everything was perfectly neat, the result of work by a team of local sprites he had enlisted. Before leaving for class each morning, he would place a bottle of milk in a designated spot for the adorable little creatures to "steal."
But right now, he urgently wanted to recall last night's events and understand his current state. First, he began with the basics, confirming he wasn't dead… Good, on to the next check.
He gingerly touched his forehead.
"Ouch!" He winced, summoning a small mirror to inspect his reflection. A dark bruise marred his temple. Something near his ear was making a faint, crisp sound. Braving the chill, he reached out from under the blankets to retrieve a note resting on his pillow. Squinting to read, Solomon found it was Bayonetta's "verdict": no sofa privileges this Saturday, and her sweet kiss had been postponed until the following week.
What did I do? He was utterly baffled. Finally, he let it go—not only was it hard to guess a woman's thoughts, but it was nearly time for class. And he had a busy day ahead.
---
"Is this the creature that killed Drake?" After finishing his classes for the day, Solomon returned to Kamar-Taj to inspect the lower-plane entity responsible for slaying one of Kamar-Taj's Mystics. This inspection was personally led by Mordo, as the entity's dangerous history meant it was tightly bound by magical restraints. "It looks… slimy," Solomon remarked, eyeing the restrained creature in its cell. "What level of demon is this?"
"Actually, it's a corrupted elemental," Mordo clarified, spreading his hands in resignation. "In truth, I can't easily classify it. It doesn't come from Hell, but rather the Plane of Water, yet it carries infernal power. For years, Kamar-Taj has struggled to categorize these beings. The elemental planes are foundational to our world rather than outer dimensions (inner planes), and if entities enter from the four elemental planes, our planetary defense system has a hard time detecting them."
Mordo then gave a detailed account of how he had captured the creature and listed its abilities—including, but not limited to, transforming into water and merging with other water sources.
"Troublesome." Solomon scrutinized the lower-plane entity with a hint of disdain. Even at a distance, he could smell its stench of stagnant water. "I think this might be an elemental creature from a region near the lower planes." He turned to Mordo with a probing look. "Did it enter our world on its own, or was it summoned?"
"It was summoned," Mordo replied, frowning as he sensed Solomon might know more than he was letting on. Perhaps this was something the Supreme Sorcerer had tasked Solomon with researching. "The summoner is a powerful figure," Mordo continued. "I've already found some clues… Remember that flaming skull from the news? I found a description of it in the library."
"My next target is that creature."
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