The meeting hall was chronically cold and dark, as it was past business hours on that fateful day when the right-hand man of the chief of the cavalry finally set foot in hell.

Her subordinates believed her absence meant she had been demoted—or worse, eliminated—after a fatal error in judgment or action. In any way, they believed something had happened due to an ironic twist of fate, even if they still followed her training routine and gossiped about the reasons behind her disappearance. However, when her burgundy red hair fluttered in a flash of crimson that landed on the steps of Hell Majesty’s castle, everyone fell silent.

Belial, dressed in her traditional chivalric robes with silver-plated forearms and covered in shiny ornaments that gleamed as she walked, bowed before the demon that awaited her on the last step of the staircase. She rested her forehead on the ground as the entity took a step forward.

“Rise, Belial,” the demon said, their voice husky and stern.

Belial, then, rose to her feet. She stood straight and still, with her eyes locked on the demon.

The one in front of her was no one else than Mephistopheles himself. The Chivalry Chief wore his traditional robes as well, and the only thing that differed from the uniform was the feathery earring in his right earlobe. His eyes, always impassive and stern, didn’t change since the Masquerade Ball, but, somehow, there was a glint of joy somewhere inside that mysterious amber ocean.

“Very well, I see you healed,” Mephistopheles said, and Belial nodded. The demon hummed something before speaking and sighed, “Go to my office, there’s new directions for you from Our Majesty.”

Belial hesitated and clenched her fists. “From Mr. Lucifer?”

Mephistopheles nodded negatively and Belial unclenched her fists, “It’s from the Consort… again.”

Belial exhaled, relieved, and dusted off her building anxiety, “That’s a true relief…”

“I’d say the same,” Mephistopheles chortled and waved his hand. “Follow me.”

Mephistopheles' office looked more like a torture chamber. Weapons of various cutting and piercing calibers scattered on the walls darkly adorned the suffocating room. Belial was already accustomed to this sight and simply covered the weapons with the curtains that her boss always forgot to do so.

The large window behind the desk looked directly at the castle entrance since the cavalry building was a structure that was strategically located in front of the castle. Mephistopheles also closed the window curtains and sat in his armchair, leaving the heavier layers of his clothing hanging on the coat rack next to his desk.

He motioned for Belial to sit down and picked up a mug, pouring boiling coffee into it. The smell of coffee beans diluted in water aroused Belial's sense of smell, which contented him with just the smell of the drink.

Mephistopheles cleared his throat after taking a sip of hot coffee and looked at Belial. The demon's body gave a slight shiver at the piercing and enigmatic gaze of her volatile boss, but his sigh soon after made her nerves relax again.

“The Consort agreed to dismiss both Azazel and you for secular vacations after the successful mission at the Wishing Well and Agarath’s arrest,” Mephistopheles explained, placing the cup of coffee aside. Belial looked at him with a blank expression and all she did besides stare was mumble intelligible gibberish, so Mephistopheles waved his hand and continued. “It’s a shock, I reckon. He also dismissed me to go on vacations, so we are all dismissed,” he finished, running his fingers over his slicked-back hair.

Belial tried to speak, new colors dusting her eyes. “So can I go back to the human world?” she asked expectantly.

Mephistopheles paused and crossed his arms. “You know we cannot go to the human world if we don’t have business there. I mean, I can go because I’m a special case, but I’m afraid you cannot.”

Belial’s hands were slightly clenched, and she looked down. Her shining armor reminded her of where she belonged. But deep down she missed the warm, ivory fur of a certain someone in her arms instead of that cold, heavy outfit.

She chewed on her lip, trying to think of any thread, any excuse, any door that might get her back to Blanche. Meanwhile, Mephistopheles studied the demon’s behavior. Belial’s eyes were mellow and melancholic behind her stern and serious posture, and her imponent stance seemed to have some cracks all around.

Mephistopheles sighed and when he was about to speak, Belial interrupted.

“I do have business in the human world,” Belial spoke, raising her gaze to meet her boss’s.

Mephistopheles let out a “hm” and reached for his cup of coffee. “And what would it be?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.

The question wandered into the demon’s brain, which collected every piece of the biggest scheme she had ever made up. She remembered Blanche once told her the university still needed new teachers for the Magic Defense subject because the previous teacher had to move abroad. Yes! That could be a perfect plan!

When the puzzle was finished, she snapped her fingers and slammed her boss’s desk.

“I’ll help to teach humans!” Belial grinned, shamelessly and carefree.

“PFFFFFF” Mephistopheles sputtered his coffee.