The demon servants soon returned, carrying drinks alongside round, glossy treats nestled on an ornate silver tray.
"Oh, are these some of those otherworldly snacks you demons produce?" Tega asked, reaching for one of the delicate pastries set before him.
Zack chuckled. "Otherworldly? I suppose that's not entirely wrong." He plucked one off the tray. "They were quite popular in Tigris—called creampuffs. A small luxury."
Tega and his butler eyed the foreign snack with mild curiosity, but their attention was soon drawn elsewhere.
One of the female servants stepped forward, presenting Zack with a clear orb the size of a clenched fist.
"What is that, Demon King?" Tega asked, immediately intrigued.
Zack's playful expression faded into something more serious. "This," he said, "is what I wanted to show you."
He released the orb, and it hovered midair with unnatural stillness.
A moment later, beams of light burst outward in concentric patterns, forming a hovering image nearly two feet wide. The orb itself was consumed by the layered projections—holographic, yet strangely mystifying.
"What in the worlds…?" Tega leaned back, both amazed and cautious. "I cannot sense magic from it at all… Such technology... it defies reason."
Zack nodded solemnly. "It's actually the second item on our agenda—a merging of ancient demon enchantment and forbidden technology. However, its future might already be in danger... because of this."
He turned his attention to the display, and Tega followed suit, both now fully focused on the scene unfolding in the air.
*
Within the projected memory...
The viewpoint was clearly from someone's eyes—a first-person recording.
The scene displayed a vast, cracked expanse of flatlands stretching toward the horizon. Distant hills and scarce trees stood like silent guardians, barely visible through the heat distortion.
Three figures showed in the field. They wore sleek, tight-fitting black suits that glinted subtly with embedded glyphs and circuits—a remarkable blend of magic and machine.
"Have you gotten a visage reading yet?" asked a burly, crimson-skinned woman with two horns curving sharply from her forehead. Her voice was laced with urgency.
"Almost. Be patient," replied a younger looking demon, also red-skinned, with a single horn sweeping from his temple toward the back of his head.
He held the glowing, book-like device in his hands, eyes locked on its shifting display. Then, as if sensing a presence, he turned and met the gaze of the viewer—the one whose memory was being recorded.
"Hera! What are you doing?!" he snapped. "Come on, help Lylon!"
"Ah! S-Sorry!" came a small, flustered voice.
"Her name is Kiara, you jerk! And don't you yell at my wife!" shouted another red-skinned figure nearby—a lanky hornless man holding a strange metallic rod, its base connected to a rock-like module that pulsed faintly with light.
He held it aloft, as if trying to snare something invisible from the air.
"Kiara's new to this," he continued. "And this place isn't exactly safe for a maiden, so cut her some slack!"
"Ohhh? So I don't count as a maiden now?" the burly woman from before chimed in, raising an arched brow.
"Well…" Lylon hesitated, scratching his neck. "I-I don't know. I mean… I just don't know."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" she huffed, striking a pose that exaggerated her already prominent figure.
Her chest lifted defiantly as she grinned.
"I'm perfectly fine as a woman. Plenty of men would be lucky to marry me. Right, Drac?"
She turned to the first guy—the one with the glowing rectangle.
"Yes. Perverts definitely would," Drac replied flatly, not even glancing up.
His attention remained glued to the device in his hands, his fingers gliding over its surface.
They continued their bickering for a few more seconds under the blinding noon sun.
Then—
"Ah! I've got something!" Drac's eyes widened, voice sharp with discovery.
"Argh, finally." Lylon sighed, planting the rod into the ground with theatrical exhaustion. "So… what did you find?"
All eyes turned to Drac.
At first, he looked curious—then troubled. His face twisted slowly into disbelief… then fear. His mouth fell open, and his eyes widened as if he were staring into the abyss.
The others suddenly stiffened, and the hilarity drained.
Lylon's expression turned grim. "Kiara! Get behind me!" he barked, already stepping in front of her. Sweat gathered at his brow.
"…Do you feel that, Sarai?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
Sarai—the burly woman—nodded, her playful tone gone. "How could I not? It's like the whole air's... screeching."
For whatsoever reason, they were all whispering now.
The person behind the point of view had begun to visibly tremble, clinging to the back of Lylon's skintight outfit.
"Don't worry," Lylon said gently, glancing over his shoulder with a reassuring smile. "They're still miles away. Once we gather enough intel, we'll leave immediately."
She nodded silently, trying to steady her breath.
"I can't believe this… This is impossible. We need to alert the King!" Drac muttered, eyes locked onto the glowing surface of the flat device. Panic had begun to seep into his voice.
"Calm down, Drac," Sarai said, grabbing his shoulders firmly. "Let us see the screen too."
They gathered around, and Drac angled the device for everyone to view.
In the glass display—projected clearly from the rectangular surface—over two hundred dark, wolf-like beasts prowled across an empty expanse.
Near them stood something far more ominous: a wagon-sized, nine-tailed fox, its fur black as void, with each of its tails flickering with shifting, unnatural colors.
But even among such monstrous entities, the one that stood at the center of them all—appearing to be human—held the eye.
If he was human, that was.
Each figure emitted the presence of a Principality, strong enough to shake the balance of the world… but the dread washing over the watching demons came solely from the man in the middle.
His magical pressure was unfathomable—like staring into a bottomless well of darkness ricocheting divinations.
His form was cloaked in writhing darkness, and behind him, as if leaking from another plane of existence, floated countless eye-like details.
Two women flanked him.
One looked young, though the overwhelming aura radiating from their leader made her features impossible to fully register.
The other woman, while still blurred by the display's limitations, had hair like bleached snow—and glowing, yellow eyes that pulsed faintly like suns in a distant sky.
The recording appeared to be taken from an aerial perspective, hovering just twenty meters above the enemy. Close enough for danger to be more than hypothetical.
None of the observing demons paid any mind to the high-ranked devil or the mounted Principality ahead the group.
Their attention was utterly captured by the army of shades now apparently trespassing on Pison.
The demons gathered around the screen glanced at one another, unease rising in their chests.
"What… is this?" Sarai whispered, covering her mouth. "Is this… the beginning of a war? An invasion?"