Japan, Ermengardis Headquarter, February 28, 2004, 0:15 AM (Feb. 27, 3:15 PM, GMT +9:00)

“Good evening!”

Milo entered the living-room, yawning carelessly. His hairs were slightly disheveled, as the evidence he had fought a certain time with his pillow before giving up the idea of falling asleep.

“Milo… You too couldn’t manage to find sleep?” asked Aiolia.

“Yes, jet lag, I suppose!” answered Milo, yawning a second time.

“My foot… Just say that you just can’t wait to see again Death Mask, Shura and especially Camus!” retorted Aphrodite, smiling.

Milo froze, an expression of irritation showing up on his face.

“Aphrodite, you shouldn’t stay awake too late… You know, it gives wrinkles!” he answered coldly.

“Why not? After all, wrinkles engraved on the face of a man, aren’t they the evidence of his existence and his experience... Girls have always appreciated it!”

“What?”

Milo and Aiolia stood there open-mouthed. Marine believed she was to drop her phone with surprise, but managed to keep it in her hands.

Aphrodite smiled, obviously satisfied by the effects of his declamation.

A melody broke the surprise of Aphrodite's companions. Marine picked up her cell phone immediately.

“Ambre! Where are you? 100 km from here? But where? ... Ambre, I can’t hear you very well! Ambre! Am...!”

Marine dropped suddenly her telephone, and covered her hears with her hands. She shivered, and then collapsed on the ground.

Aiolia rose precipitately and retained her.

“Marine...? What’s wrong?”

Japan, Village of Onimura, February 28, 2004, 0:18 AM (Feb. 27, 3:18 PM, GMT +9:00)

“Hello! ... Hello! ... Hello!? ”

No answer, but a “bip”. Ambre kept calling, but nobody made any more echoes.

“A problem?” asked the old woman.

“Ye... yes, there is no more tonality.”

“Certainly due to the storm... ” said the old woman, taking the wrist of Ambre and forcing her to hang up the phone. “You can call your friends tomorrow... ”

Ambre felt a shiver of fear traversing her back:

“Do you mind if I send an e-mail... now?”

“It's late, you can do it also tomorrow... ”

Second shiver of anguish... Ambre had found herself many times in weird situations, including demons, vampires, werewolves and other worrying creatures. But she had to confess the current situation was sending her shivers in the spine than ever before.  

“Please, follow me, I would like to show you your rooms...” said the old woman.

She beckoned Ambre to follow her, while the girls were pushing gently Shura, Camus and Angelo in the direction of their room.

“At least, we'll have a bed... A real bed... Not an armchair! But a bed...!” exclaimed Shura, thinking already to the delights of slipping into the arms of Morpheus. He yawn his head off.

“Huh, we're not all together in the same room...?” Angelo slipped, obviously anxious.

“We are very sorry for this, but there were no room big enough for four people...” apologized one of the young girls, bowing timidly.

Angelo got almost ashamed of his question.

“Don't worry! That's ok!” he stammered, making his best smile. He received a great nudge in the back, and turned the head, furious.

Shura was smiling, proud of his small revenge.

“Hey! What's wrong with you!” grumbled Angelo.

“Nothing! But you can still dream of me if you are so sad we're not in the same room! Good night, my angel !” Shura whistled away, mocker.

Angelo made the pout: “Moron!”

He quickly forgot the bad mood created by the trick of Shura, and followed the girl who was smiling at him.

Camus and Ambre looked at one another, a little anxious.

“Ok, so see you tomorrow!” said Ambre, waving at the young man.

“Yes, have a good sleep!” answered Camus.

And they followed their guide in the darkness of this vast mansion.

Japan, Ermengardis Headquarter, February 28, 2004, 0:25 AM (Feb. 27, 3:25 PM, GMT +9:00)

“What's going on?” exclaimed James. ‘

On the phone, Marine was speaking by bits: Demons... Ambre... Danger... A legend...

“Marine... Say it again... I don't understand anything! ”

Marine finally calmed down, and explained more intelligibly the facts she had just been the witness.

“Ok, Marine... I will have a look at the database... I'll call you back as soon as I find something.”

James hung up, opened his laptop and logged in the system of Ermengardis.

“Key Words? Let's see... Japan, Minakami, Onimura... Demons... unsolved disappearances...”

And he launched the request.

Japan, Village of Onimura, February 28, 2004, 1:00 AM (Feb. 27, 4:00 PM, GMT +9:00)

Western pavilion

Shura was sleeping the sleep of the just when he felt a fresh breath on his face.

He opened the eyes and to his surprise, found himself face to face with one of the young women of the mansion. His surprise increased when he understood that the beauty was installed astride him, her hand cherishing his hairs gently.

“What are you doing here?” asked Shura, trying to keep his calm. The situation was quite incredible, but he couldn't say if he found it pleasant or uncomfortable.

The young woman smiled, then approached her exquisite face to Shura, and kissed him. Her lips, caressing his mouth, had a sweet taste that Shura couldn't identify. He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to push back his burning attacker. He would have liked that the "things" go less quickly, although this was not unpleasant, after all. The touch of her skin was so soft, almost silky.

Abandoning himself to this kiss, Shura let slip his hands along the slender body, appreciating the curves of her waist and her hips, and finally, her buttocks. Driving out his reserve, Shura tightened the fine waist, embracing with passion his charming visitor.

Southern pavilion

Angelo had gone to bed without removing his trousers. He didn't have much confidence in the place, and had preferred to keep his clothes, just in case if it would have been necessary to leave in a made rush. Questions about this strange place giving him hard time to find sleep, he had tossed and turned many times in what he refused to call a bed. For him, a bed was at least sixty centimeters above the ground, if not more.

He turned over, one more time, and opened the eyes. One of the young women of the mansion had sat on the side of the futon, and was looking at him with amused eye.

Angelo sat up straight on his layer, embarrassed and troubled. What was she doing there...? He had not heard her come in, although he was almost awakened.   

“What are you doing here...? What…”

Delicious lips caressed his mouth, stopping him in the middle of his question.

Northern pavilion

“Scarlet needle!”

Milo struck them again with the scarlet needle. This one hit Camus in the shoulder, Saga in the chest, and Shura in the right thigh. The violence of the blow made them fall down behind, in a crash of broken bones and stones.

“It was the eleventh blow... More that three before I see you die!” announced Milo, without mercy.

Camus tried to shout to him to stop, and that he was mistaken, but no sound left his throat. His legs, his chest, and his left shoulder had been hit by the eleven blows of the scarlet needle, and he was already feeling a throbbing pain invading his body and paralyzing his brain. On his side, Shura and Saga were suffering the same agony.

Milo didn't let them time to stand up, and struck them again. The twelfth blow of Scarlet Needle hit Camus on the right　scapula. He cried with pain, and felt behind, his head running up against the ground abruptly. He heard Saga and Shura falling on his side, while the voice of Milo rose, more and more cruel.

“Time for repentance, monsters! You're unworthy to have carried one day the title of defenders of Athena... You are only traitors!”

“We are not traitors! We defend Athena... Milo, my brother! Why don't you see it”! tried to say Camus, but his mouth remained hopelessly dumb.

“The thirteenth blow!” howled Milo.

A red flash crossed the darkness and hit Camus at the base of the neck. He cried of pain and his head ran up against the ground again.

Camus howled, and awoke in start, his heart biting enough to break his chest. He sat up on his futon and feverishly carried his hand to his throat, which he found free of any wound.

Camus closed his eyes, trying to breathe calmly. A dream, it was only a dream.

He started, hearing a silk rustle behind him. He turned around slowly, and discovered with surprise one of the women of the pavilion, who was observing him tenderly. 

“What are you doing here? Let me alone!” shouted Camus.

Not impressed, the young woman leaned on him, her strange glance riveted on his eyes. The young man was now holding his breathe, surprised by the reaction of the visitor, who finally kissed him. A kiss which didn't remain ignored too long.

Eastern Pavilion

Ambre reopened the eyes, seized by a bad premonition, and the feeling that there was somebody in the room. She tightened the pommel of the sword she had brought in her bed, and hid under the blanket.

By chance, this knick knack was in the corridor... she thought, looking at the drowned blade, then to the mask of Tengu(7), hung on the wall, just near her bed.

“They don't have good taste, the girls of this residence... What a curious idea to hang this like a painting! It's good for the izakaya, not a house (8)!” she murmured ironically.

She heard a cracking behind her. Then a second one. Somebody was walking on the tatamis... Ambre took a better position on her bed, ready to leap at any time. She finally felt the presence very close to her.

Now! she thought.

She saw a flash striking down on her and pulled the sword from its hiding-place.

Japan, Ermengardis HQ, February 28, 2004, 1:05 AM (Feb. 27, 4:05 PM, GMT +9:00)

Saga discreetly stick the head out of the door, then came in the lounge.

Seeing him, Aiolia almost threw up the hands with inconvenience. That was the last straw!

“So... They haven't arrived yet, have they?” asked Saga, anxious. The faces around him were serious, raising a bad premonition on him. He added, heart biting:  “What's going on? Is there something wrong?”

“They've felt in the hands of demons!” Milo answered, teeth clenched.

Saga felt like a pain rising on his chest. Could it be that his companions were in danger of death? Once again...

Japan, Village of Onimura, February 28, 2004, 1:10 AM (Feb. 27, 4:10 PM, GMT +9:00)

Southern Pavilion

Angelo tried to protest, but he felt soft warmth invades him by irresistible waves.

He closed the eyes, and felt the hands of the young woman caressing his body. Starting on his back, on his shoulders, running along his spinal column, being mislaid on his sheers, leaving to discover his abdomen, then going up on his chest and dying on his scapulas, driven out by soft lips, avid of his neck and his lips.

How could he protest? When was the last time he had felt this trouble shiver called desire running on his skin, as the breeze cherishes the water of a lake? An eternity....

Angelo let his body fall down behind, head in the pillow. He felt the body of the young woman following the same movement and rocking on him. He instinctively seized her waist, so thin, so female. Led more and more by troubling warmth burning his body, he kissed her lips with greed, getting intoxicated with their softness and their freshness.

The young woman released herself from this passionate kiss and chuckled with satisfaction, looking at the young man beneath her, who was totally languid. She raised the head and her smile transformed into grimace.

A young man was knelt beside them, glaring at her. His face was as white as snow, and... Strikingly looking like the face of her "lover". The woman looked again at the man who was in her arms, then raised her eyes on the sited man, with complete astonishment.

“I haven't sacrificed my life and my body to Angelo so that he gets killed so stupidly!” howled the young man with anger.

He punched the woman in the face, throwing her against the wall in a cry of pain.

“Get up, moron! Your trip is not going to end here!” he shouted in the ear of Angelo.

Angelo started, awaked like from a dream. He immediately sat up on his futon, breathing heavily.

“Lorenzo!” he murmured.

Then, all became clear in his mind: the young woman! Lorenzo had saved him from this woman! Who was she? She had almost bewitched him! But more important...Where had she gone?

Angelo looked at the darkness of the room, trying to make out his attacker. He suddenly felt a breath on his shoulder, and turned around, short of breath.

The young woman was striking back, showing this time her real face.

Northern Pavilion

Their kiss was going deeper and deeper, more and more passionate...

Those red hairs, those green eyes... Camus released his pressure on this so desired body just to check it was "her".  

Ambre smiled to him, and then kissed him again with the same passion she had shown since her arrival in his room. Without realizing so much what he was doing, Camus removed as calmly as possible the clothes of the young woman: first, the silk blouse, and then, the dress...

Then he felt her breast against his chest, while her lips were attacking his throat with an incredible eager. The storm calmed down, while her hands caressed his shoulders, then went down on his back. A new shiver of desire traversed the spinal column of Camus, and he couldn't repress a moan. He seized the waist of Ambre, and rocked on her.

He was now above her, master of this body he desired so much.... No! Which he desired above all. But, anyway, he didn't want to be too quick... Camus started to kiss her neck, gently, then passionately, while his hands were running without reserve along her hips.

“Not too bad... said a voice, which seemed familiar to him.

Camus stopped his passionate kiss and exploration, and raised the head.

In front of him, Gabriel was knitted, a bitter smile on the lips. Camus had now doubt on the identity of this young man, dressed in a grey suite, and who was looking so much like him... Gabriel de Riveau had just appeared in front of him, like he was a few minutes before the "soul swap".

“But...”

“Yes, not bad... Camus... I see that you are far from being this puppet, stuck in ice, which you have always tried to look like for too many years... ”

Camus looked at him, dumbfounded. The face of Gabriel was calm, although slightly mocking. While his own face was certainly showing anything else than fear and incomprehension, Camus knew it. 

“Yes, that's nice to see you succumbing finally to the weaknesses of the sense, and to your phantasms, Camus. But you should never stop watching out for dangers!” continued Gabriel.

He eyes were glittering, like two sapphires.

“What?” murmured Camus.

“Dear Camus, it's not Ambre you're holding in your arms, but a demon of nightmares, succubae! Who just waits only one thing... to devour you!” explained Gabriel, before fading away as by magic.

Camus lowered the eyes on the woman who was kissing him now more than ardently. And instead of a shiver of desire, he felt shiver of terror.

Western pavilion

Shura had reversed the situation, and was now above his young attacker, holding her wrists above her head, and covering her face with burning kisses. Sweet attacks to which the girl was answering only by laughter or moaning of pleasure. Shura was to explore her neck when he felt a hand caressing his back, under his sweater, starting from his shoulders, descending to his kidneys.

The feeling was not unpleasant, but left no doubt about the presence of other people in the room. Shura threw a glance over his shoulder, and saw two other young women.

He released the hands of his young captive, and sat up.

“Ok girls, what game are you playing exactly?”

As any answer, the two women pushed a cry, like the howl of cat. Shura felt his hairs standing on end looking at their metamorphosis: the young faces had become putrid masks where yellow eyes of panthers were glittering.

Demons! Instinctively, Shura leaped behind, to move away from the body on which he was lying on.

Eastern pavilion

The two swords clattered, and Ambre jumped behind to avoid the short sword that was striking on her. She took immediately a defensive posture, ready to stop all new attack.

In front of her, the old woman who had welcomed her a few hours earlier had finally showed her true face: chapped, tainted of a disgusting earthy gray, in the middle of which two yellow eyes were staring at her.

“So, what are you exactly? Demon? Walking-dead? Half-human, half-woman mongrel?” asked Ambre, vindictive.

“I am what the Christian religion calls succubae and what people here name Demon of the Night...” croaked the creature.

A bad feeling crossed Ambre as a flash. If the other inhabitants of the residence were also succubus, that meant that Camus, Angelo and Shura were in a great danger, at this very moment. She had to clean up the situation here, and quickly!

“A succubae? Huh? ... I hope you prepared an incubate for me! ”

“We can sort it out, if you want... And don't worry for your friends; they are in good hands... Their death will be... a real pleasure!” laughed the creature.

Ambre bit her lips. Really, she had to be quick!

Her glance slipped on the two swords which the demon was holding; a pair of samurai swords. Any wrong foot, and she was likely to have her head sliced...

Ambre held up her sword, and, howling, struck the long blade of the creature. This one raised her short blade, and was to strike Ambre on the side when the woman seized her wrist, and twisted it with all her strength. She didn't leave time to the demon to recover from her surprise, and kicked her vigorously in the stomach. A second kick sent the creature against one of the sliding doors.

The demon broke on her knees, but stood up almost a second later, but soon pushed a cry of pain. Ambre had just sliced her chest, from the right scapula to the left sides, of a sharp blow.

The creature instantaneously took her human face, standing on her knees. Her eyes rolled in all directions, while a black blood escaped from her mouth.

Ambre stepped back with disgust.

“Don't believe you've won... I am not alone! You won't escape from this place alive!” laughed the old woman, before breaking down, face against ground.

Ambre collected the two swords of the creature, and opened the sliding door, unveiling a black and cold corridor.

She was to walk in when she heard an object whistling at her hears. She slipped from the frame of the door, avoiding a knife, which dug straight on the wall of the entrance. Still hidden behind the sliding door, she made out three silhouettes walking on the corridor, emitting a worrying whistle, like snakes slipping on the ground.

“And now, let's start the wild things... ”she sighed.

Gripping better the swords in hands, she jumped from her hiding place, and charged without hesitation.

Greece, Terrestrial Sanctuary, February 27, 2004, 6:20 PM (Feb. 27, 4:20 PM, GMT +9:00)

Just like the day before, Glaucus ventured again in the exploration of the temple of Persephone, at the fall of the night. He walked straight to the private apartments where he had caught the goddess in her love games with her vampire lover. A vampire whom identity Glaucus was decided to uncover this very evening.

He was going to push the door and to slip in, when a laugh made him start. A mocking and sufficient laugh... A laugh that he knew very well... Glaucus turned around, and had no difficulty to recognize the vampire who was staring at him with his cold grey eyes.

Bàlint...

June 1491. Camp of the army of Marius.

Geldis, Deianeira, Ishara, Glaucus, Adorjàn, Lôrinc and Luitgard, of course, were there. Some of their lieutenants had also been "invited" to this meeting, such as Bàlint, who was standing close to Luitgard, his master, or Wolrad, lieutenant of Adorjàn, or Sibold, who was at the service of Lôrinc. The top of Marius army was joining their chief under his large tent, at his request, in order to decide the strategy for the attack, planed for the following day, which should be decisive and fatale to the black militia of Ermengardis.

Luitgard extended a map on the central table, disposing stones at the four corners to prevent it folding up. All the vampires came closer to the table, looking at the map with curiosity. Marius was sited on the other side of the table, alone, and was also studying the battle field carefuly.

He pointed a temple, represented by a symbol painted in blue.

“There... It's the temple of Telemny. It's the lair of the Black Militia. The temple dominates a gorge. It's out of question to attack frontally, because they will see us coming from far away...”

“Why don't try a diversion? Send a squadron in the gorge, and while the soldiers of the militia attack them, bore their defenses on the sides...” suggested Luitgard

Adorjàn smiled mockingly:

“No need to precise that this squadron will be sacrificed.”

“You have a better solution?” said Luitgard.

“No.”

“That's fine with me... We'll follow this plan, unless we find a better one. And as it is your idea, I suggest that we send your men on the gorge, Luitgard...” broke off Marius, before he guffawed. Mocking laughs rose in the assistance. Only Luitgard, and his lieutenant, Bàlint, remained stony-faced.

Glaucus through a scorning glance to them. He hated Luitgard and Bàlint for their self-importance. But more than these two men, who were standing there, he hated Gàbor, the young brother of Bàlint, and was regretting that this little squirt was not here to hear his death sentence.

“I suggest that Bàlint takes the head of the squadron! And to send also his brother, Gàbor, to support him!” proposed Glaucus .He threw a mocking glance to Bàlint, who looked straight at him in the eyes without flinching.

“I agree!” declared Adorjàn.

“I agree!” added Geldis.

“I agree!”

It was Lôrinc who had just spoken.

“I agree!” said Deianeira, between two laughs.

Bàlint closed his eyes, as if he was trying to escape from this thunder of voices that were appointing him as the leader of a suicide mission.

“I agree. But the final decision must return to Ishara. After all, she is it the mistress of Gàbor...”

Marius smiled, staring at Ishara, obviously badly at ease seeing the effects of his ambiguous words on the Babylonian princess.

“Ishara, do you accept that your beautiful servant takes part of this glorious mission, under the command of his brother?”

“I agree...” she said, looking away when she met the eyes of Bàlint.

The answer of Ishara was almost inaudible to the assistance. However, it resounded in the tympanums of Bàlint. Like his death sentence, and the condemnation of his brother to the same fatal end.

He suddenly realized that Glaucus was glaring at him. The giant walked to him and gave him a wrongfully friendly poke.

“I hope that you will enjoy this evening, your brother and you... Because, it might be the last...” he whispered to Bàlint.

“Don’t worry, we'll see again, after this battle...” answered Bàlint, menacing.

Bàlint glared at Glaucus, a smile on the lips. He had rested his back against a column, and had folded his hands on his splendid blue velvet chasuble.

“Always spying on people... You'll never change, my poor Glaucus.”

The same threatening voice as when they were speaking in the tent of Marius, the day before the battle of Telemny, more than five centuries ago. The day before the disappearance of Bàlint, who had been considered as lost, like all the soldiers of his squadron.

Japan, Village of Onimura, February 28, 2004, 1:30 AM (Feb. 27, 4:30 PM, GMT +9:00)

Southern Pavilion

Angelo moved back against the wall, almost holding his breathe, and looking at the darkness of the room in search of his attacker. But there was no track of her.

Angelo pushed the sliding door to benefit from the lights of the corridor. It's when he saw her. Squatted a few meters from him, and holding a sword on her left hand. Put on the lights, the creature leaped straight on him.

The first reflex of Angelo was to dodge on his right and to catch the arm holding the sword. He twisted it, obliging the female monster to pull down the sword. The creature howled in pain and started to struggle to release her captive member.

Feeling that he wouldn't content her strength any longer, Angelo released her arm, and seized her neck and her disgusting head. The spinal column broke in a dry crack.

The creature broke down at his feet without a cry.

Angelo moved back and felt about to be sick when he looked at the dead body. So sorry that, while he had sworn to himself he would never take the life of any living creature, this commitment was already broken...

Foot steps in the corridor brought him back to reality: he was still in danger... He caught his jumper and his shoes in haste, collected the sword of the creature and leaped in the corridor. He ran in the opposite direction of the foot steps, climbing the first staircase he could find on his way.

Northern House

The creature howled right in front of his face. Frightened, Camus rolled on the side and tried to get on his feet, but the creature pined him on the ground, putting all her strength and weight on the chest of her prey.

Camus looked with fright at the two yellow iridescent eyes, and the putrid and chapped face of the lover he had held in his arms a few minutes ago. In an ultimate effort, he managed to release his right arm and seized the neck of the creature. He squeezed it with all his strength.

From second to second, the pressure one his chest went weaker. Camus could release his second arm and tightened the pressure on the greenish neck. He didn't release it, until he saw the eyes of his attacker rolling on their orbits. Then the body stiffened, and finally froze. The head leaned ahead, tong out.

Camus rolled the body one his side, and shivered of horror, thinking to what had happened. He took several minutes to him before he could move, staying on the ground, taking his breath and trying to recover his calm.

Rattling noises coming from outside the room brought him back to reality quite abruptly. He stood up, his heart beating wildly. Were other creatures approaching?

Camus put quickly his clothes back on, and was going to leap in the corridor when his eyes were caught by the two swords set in their takonoma, close to the entrance: a daito(9) and a shoto(8). He drew one of the swords half from its sleeve and admired the sharp and brilliant blade. He sheathed it, and seized the second sword.

“That might be useful... ”

He opened the sliding door, trying to make less noise as possible and walked in the black and cold corridor, checking no other creatures was waiting in ambush.

Western Pavilion

Shura leaped on his feet and ran up against the sliding door behind him. He didn't have time to react that one of the creatures jumped on him. The sliding door vibrated, then yielded under the weight of their bodies. Shura and his attacker felt down on the flooring of the corridor, in a crash of torn paper and broken wood.

As by reflex, he caught one of the pieces of broken wood beside him, and hit the face of the creature laying on him. The pieces of wood drove softly on the right eyes of the female demon.

The creature felt down on him, inert.

In a feeling of dislike and fear, Shura pushed back the body and got on his feet. Breathing heavily, he looked with anxiety inside the room, expecting to see the two other demons leaping on him.

But curiously, the two creatures had already left.

Shura noticed suddenly a short sword at the belt of the dead creature. He drove it from her sleeve, checked that he had it well in hand, and then sheathed it, reassured to have a weapon to defend himself.

And definitively convinced that he couldn't stay here any longer, he sprang across the corridor.

Greece, Terrestrial Sanctuary, February 27, 2004, 6:30 PM (Feb. 27, 4:30 PM, GMT +9:00)

“What are you doing here?” retorted Glaucus .

“I advise you to speak to me with more respect, Glaucus!” answered Bàlint, still aggressive.

“Really... And what a low-cast vampire like you could do against me?” mocked Glaucus.

He walked on Bàlint, tightening his fist, ready to fight against his old enemy.

The face of Bàlint remained calm. He just raised a hand and drew strange drawings with his fingers.

Glaucus felt pushed back behind, like blocked by an invisible wall. He tried to resist, but was finally projected against a pillar behind him. Far from weakening, the force maintained him against the pillar, a few meters above the ground. He saw Bàlint walking to him, a smile of satisfaction on the lips.

He stopped one meter away from the pillar, and shook the head as a sign of reprobation.

“No, Glaucus, no! You shouldn't speak to your saver like that...  Because it is me who had drawn you from your sleep, you and Ishara... It is my blood that had revived you! You could show some gratitude, damn it! ”

Bàlint burst in a frank laugh.

Glaucus tried to speak, but the force was also paralyzing his face.

“No Glaucus, you cannot speak... I have read in your mind that you've been asking yourself lot's questions about me for few minutes... How could I escape from the battle of Telemny...? Why and how I brought back you to this world...? And above all, you would like to know how I acquired so much powers, would you, Glaucus!? ”

Bàlint had pronounced these words like a monologue. He was pacing up and down in front of the pillar, arms folded on his chest.

His glance felt again on Glaucus, who felt the pressure on his body increasing painfully.

“Let's start with the easiest question... My power... Let say that while you were sleeping like a happy good in your coffin, me, I was fighting... Demons, vampires, werewolves, creatures from parallel universes... I took up challenges on challenges, fights on fights... Drawing the power of the enemies I killed. ”

Bàlint stopped, suddenly disturbed by something. He raised the eyes towards the vault of the hall, and closed the eyes.

A few seconds passed.

Curiously, the force on the body of Glaucus weakened, and he slipped slowly along the pillar. He broke down on his knees, as if all his strength has left him.

Bàlint reopened the eyes and threw a furious glance to Glaucus.

“Ishara has escaped from her apartments... Stop her before she store up problems! Our survival in the Terrestrial Sanctuary is deeply linked to our discretion!” ordered Bàlint.

Glaucus posed a hand on the ground, outlining a vague reverence. He hated this current position, his weakness. And he hated Bàlint, but knew that he couldn't win against him. His power had become frightening, comparable to the power of Marius.

“Yes, Master!” answered Glaucus, inclining the head.

“Perfect. At least, you understand quickly, centurion. Now, I have to leave. I guess you know the reason...”

Bàlint chukkled and moved towards the private apartments of Persephone. He turned around, arrived on the threshold of the door.

“Glaucus, bring back Ishara, and don't oblige me to intervene... I am sure that you wouldn't like to see me getting angry against her...”

7. Tengu: The word Tengu comes from Chinese (You IEN kou) and means "celestial Dog". In the majority of its representations (especially the masks), Tengu is described as a creature with a human aspect, and an extremely prominent nose. The tengu is supposed to be the reincarnation of a noble or a samurai who was arrogant and pretentious during his human life.

8. izakaya: Japanese brewery, where it's possible to order any kind of dishes. The favorite place of Japanese for the dinners between colleagues. Besides, one of the chains of izakaya is called  "Tengu".

9. katana: Japanese sword, also called daito. Length: about 60cm-long.

Shoto: short sword, approximately between 30 and 60 cm-long.

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