The battle below continued to rage, blades ringing through the catacombs, when a soft voice echoed near Azazel.
"Giovanni."
Azazel didn't look, but the man beside him—Giovanni—turned slightly and nodded toward the newcomer.
A woman. Not young, not old. Her eyes were sharp, the color of ash, her cloak heavy with dust. She sat beside them, arms crossed.
"Who's this one?" she asked, her chin gesturing toward Azazel.
Giovanni shrugged. "New face. Just watching. Haven't seen him around before."
He glanced at Azazel. "What's your name, kid?"
Azazel didn't take his eyes off the fight. "Azazel."
Melissa arched an eyebrow. Giovanni blinked, but said nothing.
Azazel finally asked, "When was the last time the initiation was held in Rome?"
A long silence stretched between them.
Giovanni frowned, his brow furrowing. He didn't speak.
Melissa sighed, as if the weight of memory pressed her shoulders.
"Thirty years ago. Maybe less," she said. "Back then, Rome gave us just one spot. As a trade. In exchange for help locating a demon who stole something… sacred."
Giovanni nodded slowly. "That spot went to Johann Weyer."
Azazel's chest tightened.
"The strongest hunter of his generation," Melissa added, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "That man…"
Giovanni's tone was softer now. "His death was a loss. A quiet one. Even his funeral was… private. Only a few old friends were allowed."
Melissa's jaw tightened. "I wasn't even allowed to see his face."
Azazel let out a short breath, finally turning toward her.
"Maybe it's because he knew if you saw him, you'd start giving away secrets to the next stranger who looked lost like me."
Melissa blinked.
Giovanni laughed, rough and honest.
Melissa raised an eyebrow at Azazel. "For some reason you've got a mouth like his. Cute."
Azazel smiled faintly but turned back to the fight. Below, Hypathia pushed Ino to the edge, her eyes blazing.
Johann Weyer.
So even here, even among these … his old man's name still echoed.
Azazel felt somehow proud and warm inside.