??Sniff!

Sniff!

“I guess Demon or not, an onion is still an onion.” Sylvester watched Zenith cut the onions with a little knife and cry rivers from her eyes. “Don’t you have these in your world?”

“I never entered the kitchen in my life, Sylvester,” she blurted, voice annoyed as the tears made her feel uneasy. “I know the names, but I never worked on these items in my world.”

“Quite a privileged life you’ve lived,” Dalgan commented from the side, forgetting this was his Empress. “I wish I had that image-capturing box.”

Sylvester scoffed and glared at Dalgan, “What are you gloating over? Pick up a knife and start chopping other vegetables.”

“Me too?”

“Why? Your hands are too delicate for this work? Didn’t you vow to die serving me?” Sylvester reminded the old demon general, “Get to work now.”

“Understood!”

It’s nice to have helping hands. Sylvester proudly nodded and started working with other ingredients. All sorts of meat and spices were going to be used for the big meal. On top of that, being so powerful, he didn’t need to use small fire crystals. His magic was enough to heat all the pans and pots evenly.

“Do you often cook food?” Zenith asked, getting used to the onions.

“Not often, but I do enjoy the few rare occasions when I do. All the dishes you ate from the Bard’s were made by me.” Sylvester boasted, “Didn’t they taste very similar to your world’s food courts?”

Zenith’s eyes widened, remembering Diana shared a life with this man. “It makes sense now!”

Knock! Knock!

As Sylvester finally started cooking the dishes, the guests began to appear. The first one to arrive was none other than Emperor Raz, the holy Emperor Lich.

“Ho ho! I knew it was you when I felt that magical shiver in my pelvic bone!” Raz bellowed, his bony jaws clacking together. There was a fake blonde wig on his head now, and below were overly decorated red robes.

Sylvester’s brows creased together. Every time he saw Emperor Raz, the creature supported a different style. Clearly, there was no other being in the Holy Land who was living a more interesting and colorful life than Raz.

“You felt what and where?” Sylvester asked him.

“Welcome back, Your Holiness.” Raz ignored the question and stepped inside. “Where are Saint Viceman’s daughters?”

‘He came to see them?’

“Living room.” Sylvester waved his hand and focused on the cooking.

Knock! Knock!

But then Julius arrived and, after giving a simple greeting, sat alone at the empty dining table. Following him, Healer Hendrix and his elven-wife Elaine came, along with his daughter Daline, who had grown a lot by now.

‘Ugh, he’s still overprotective of them.’ Sylvester sighed, seeing Hendrix covering his wife and daughter with his body.

“I’m delighted to see you’re alive and well, Your Holiness,” Hendrix greeted with a serious, narrow gaze.

Sylvester gave a slight nod, “Goodness, you’re still alive? Sorry, Daline, maybe in a few more years.”

“Hehe…” The girl giggled, seeing her father turn red and drag her away to the living room. “Don’t make it too spicy, Your Holiness.”

Sylvester simply winked and laughed. ‘Great to see you doing well, old man.’

Laughs and pulling at each other’s legs were all that could keep them entertained, after all. They were nothing less than freaks of nature with centuries-long lifespans.

Next arrived Saint Keymaster, Darius, the man with a perfect memory. He was a very young man with a noble upbringing. So he saluted like a soldier and silently walked in. But after him arrived Sylvester’s favorite necromancer, his Saint Seer, Lazark.

“How is the eye working?”

“We are in its third phase, Your Holiness.” Straight to the point, Lazark answered. “The fourth phase shall begin in three months. Once that happens, the minor riots we see rising will be easily suppressed.”

Hearing that gave Sylvester more assurances that his decision was right. ‘There’s no need for me to be the Pope after all this.’

Eventually, Lord Inquisitor and Aurora arrived. The last one to come was Elyon. The Saint Externum, a sort of foreign relations manager for the Holy Land. Sadly, the absence of Felix was heavily felt.

Eventually, Bloodrain, Soulbreaker, Geralt, and Dagorith came. With that, all the Guardians and Council members were present.

‘More talents need to be inducted into the Guardian order.’ Sylvester noted and focused on the cooking—this time without any disturbance. Though Miraj’s occasional loud meows came, it was nothing new.

Soon, the sun completely set, and Sylvester called the others to help him while he joined the table. As the head of the faith, the world, and the family, he sat down at the short end and silently glanced at the faces.

‘I wouldn’t mind having these moments weekly,’ he pondered and looked forward to winning, if he could.

“Maxy, did you make some for me?” Miraj soon came flying, all his fur puffed up, unkempt. He landed in Sylvester’s lap and received plenty of caresses that fixed his fluff. “I deserve some bananas after the torture.”

“I made banana pies and shakes.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Miraj melted on his lap, loving the messages from his favorite human… no, son.

Almost everyone had faint smiles in the room. Dying to ask Sylvester questions.

“What is the Demon World like?” Aurora finally asked. “Seeing the Empress’ face, it can’t be that ugl—visually different.”

“She’s a rarity among her species. But the Demon World is highly advanced and civilized. More than us, I’m afraid. There is peace. There is prosperity and unity among species. Plenty of food, wealth, and mingling of various cultures.” Sylvester fondly told them about his adventures. Even more so since this was Diana’s legacy, something worth admiring. “We can learn plenty from them.”

“What of the chaos they spread here?” Asked Bloodrain.

“Unintended consequences of their actions. There is an uneven time difference between here and the Demon World, which becomes more chaotic during the spatial, dimensional travel. The previous Empress of the Demon World has been trying to contact us and tell us about the threat of the Primordial Gods for centuries, but every time the demons sent would lose their minds in the journey and turn vile, corrupted,” Sylvester explained, attempting to reduce the animosity to a degree.

Lord Inquisitor placed his hand on the table, causing a thud. “For how long have we been led astray by these ‘gods’ we do not pray? So devastating, painful, and heavy price they made us pay. Our history has lied to us every step of the way.”

“Such is the power of ‘gods.’ that are born that way,” Sylvester added.

At that, Julius faced Sylvester and asked. “Can you block me from using my abilities now?”

“That and more,” Sylvester responded. “Don’t try to understand the true extent. Don’t try to chase it. There is far more to lose on this path than gain.”

‘Like your humanity.’

Tap!

“Food’s here!” Xavia planted the big pot on the table, silencing their serious talk. “Let’s not crave depression on the table.”

“Aye, aye!” Miraj chirped, only his head protruding above the table while on Sylvester’s lap. He loved that everyone could hear him and see him now.

With that, the big dinner started. They talk among themselves, laughing, giggling, and jesting with each other. The women shared their daily experiences, mainly Isabella’s account of raising triplets. The men shared their work challenges or simply pulled each other’s legs. Even Dalgan and Zenith got to join the crowd.

Only Sylvester ate silently the whole time, his eyes and ears open to them all. This was the peace he craved for, the calm he wished to bring upon permanently now. Though he missed his best friend, an empty seat remained empty in his wait.

‘You better have a good enough reason to jump into that portal, Felix.’

“Maxy, more.”

Sylvester grabbed Miraj’s bowl from under the table and filled it to the brim again.

‘The mystery of his belly has been unraveled. But I still have no clue what he is.’ Sylvester pondered on Miraj’s existence. ‘How does a cat go on about getting those abilities? Was it really an experiment?’

“Your Holiness,” noting his silence, Lord Inquisitor spoke to him, being the closest to him just around the corner. “Believe in your destiny. It has led you this far, and it will lead you to your harmony.”

“I’m afraid destiny won’t take you further than here, Lord Inquisitor,” Sylvester said, sipping some delightful sunshine nectar. “But I’m grateful for your trust in me.”

“Grateful?” Lord Inquisitor looked around the table, “I’m certain the realm feels that way. Without you, there wouldn’t be today.”

Sylvester smirked, “Thank destiny then, not me. Wasn’t this bound to happen no matter what?”

“Not without you. You are the guide that led us through.”

Sylvester nodded his head and breathed out tiredly. He grabbed some more food to eat, not that he needed it anymore. But he still liked the taste. It made him feel human. “Have you thought about retiring after we win?”

“And do what?” Lord Inquisitor asked.

“You’re good at rhymes. Why not join the order of bards?” Sylvester suggested.

The old man under the visor smiled gently, maintaining a calm breath. “They will be too scared of me to hear my lyrics. I’m afraid, more than the faithful, I shall earn critics.”

“In that case, I’ll travel with you,” Sylvester said. “I’ll be semi-

retired after winning the battle.”

Lord Inquisitor nodded and said nothing more. He could feel the air of uncertainty looming in Sylvester’s words.

Nothing shameful, however, since he understood that even gods sometimes felt fright. Questioning themselves if their actions are wrong or right.

And clearly, it wasn’t just Sylvester in those shoes. There were two more with their own woes.

_________________

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